Dear Me…..

Well, today was my first day back at Curves after years of backsliding.  It was a relief when I walked in, there was only me and the lady who talked to me, signed me up and took all the measurements they take when you start.

 In my mind, I barely had hopes of going around one circuit, much less the three you are supposed to.  Each station is 30 seconds, and every other station is a machine.  But I make it around two times and did every machine.  There were two I had my doubts about as I doubt my flexibility …but I did them all and was so proud.  Each recovery station is one in which you just move, some have specific instructions, but eventually everyone does what they want to between machines.  Two other ladies came in meanwhile and later another two.  By the time I got to the stretching and cool down part – it was very emotional for me.  Janice,  who helped me thru it all is a cancer masectomy survivor, and was so encouraging.  At the finish we both cried and she encouraged me to come at least 3 times a week.  She said no matter how I felt tomorrow, I should return.   I won’t quit but I can see this won’t be easy at the start.  I will continue swimming as long as I can, but now it will be nice to have an exercise program when the pool closes.  I am doing this for myself but actually because of my daughters.  They are so encouraging and one made a deal with me, and she is paying the membership, a little added incentive for me not to give up.  She is sneaky! 

Day two was uneventful; I went at 9:45 so I could be back before my hubby left for work.  I got reacquainted with Janet a friend that I knew.  She was also there on Day 3 when I arrived.  So I think that this time period is good for me.  Although it should take only 30 minutes, I took a little extra time on machines when I wasn’t rushed.  Funny because on two machines it takes me so much time to get in and situated that it is already time to move on…. so I try to count how many times I work a certain machine, so I will be consistent.  The last thing you do before you leave is the stretch/cool-down station.  If you are fast it takes five minutes, but I take my time, as I do not want to injure any muscle while learning how to use them. It feels so good to be in the program again, and it reminds me that I can do certain things at home…I have been sore.  So I take my meds and just work through it.  I am still on my blood pressure medication and probably rightly so.  Maybe after some good results I can get off of them some day. 

Day four I struggled with sore toes.  It seems like there is always something there ready to discourage me.  But I took a pill for pain and went anyway.  Plowing through a day at a time is the only solution. 

Day six is Thursday, August 19, 2010.  I went in at 9:30 and it was just Janice who works there and Janet and I.  It is really nice, because we get to visit and exercise.  It isn’t easy for a lot of people.  For Janet energy is a constant struggle.  As for me I finally got my pulse rate up to where it should be exercising, then I got curious and weighed.  I was down 3 pounds.  It is encouraging but I still have 97 pounds to go.

Today I also got a reminder that today is what is important.  I did a search on the Internet for a childhood friend and to my surprise instead I found her obituary.  Jewel Harris was my best friend in 5^th, 6^th and 7^th grade.  We had lots of nice kid memories and now I find she died in April.  It doesn’t say why she died but it did say she was active and involved all her life, so that made me feel happy for her.   

I have rededicated myself to staying healthy and happy and as helpful to others as I can be.

Bloom where you are…

          I think sometimes how sweet it would be to have an hour with my mother again.   She passed on in 1991.   She was always ready with a word of encouragement or advice that really just made me look deep inside my heart. 

          We all need someone special that provides “a word fitly spoken”.  Many times we have a friend throughout our lives that we can depend on to always be there for us.  But sometimes life comes along and changes people.  So as women we need to be resourceful.  

          It is wonderful to find that when our daughters blossom into  women, that we can talk to as equals, and it is such a pleasant surprise when we find they are sometimes smarter than we were at that age.  I am extremely lucky to have two daughters that I find so easy to love, and that we can now have a mutual respect for the other’s experiences. 

          I have always laid store in the fact that I had a friend, who I was close to for over 40 years.  I always pictured the two of us sitting in our rocking chairs on our porch talking about ourselves and our memories.   Many things can happen to change the reality of that dream.  Things we have no control over.  It can be death or sickness or distance that changes things.  Sometimes it can be such a gradual growing apart, that you don’t even realize it’s happening.  Still agonizing to feel the loss of that special something.

          Then is when we need to be resourceful.  For some reason I have been dreaming of my mother recently.  She is always there being quietly supportive, perhaps she is really just a part of me.  We take the best parts of those we have love and lost and make them a part of us as we mature. 

          I would encourage you, as you tackle your day.  To talk to the one you love and miss, even imagine them telling you something (let your heart hear their voice)…they may be absent, but all the people you love are still a part of your subconscious.  I can hear a song that brings tears to my eyes, or makes me laugh, and I allow myself to feel the feelings…miss the person but keep them in my heart.

          As we grow older, life becomes so dear and the smallest kindness is treasured.  We should never isolate ourselves from new relationships and new friendships.  People need interaction with other people to keep them real…to keep them balanced and even if they are not that friend of 40 years.  God will continue to bless his children – us.  And it seems we each have a life assignment and if negative forces determined to separate us from the feelings of self worth and individuality…we need to remember that nothing can separate us from the love of God, and that we all have a path that is right for us.  No one can tell you what your truth is!   There are always those who will try, but hang on to your authenticness, your individuality and bloom where you are, letting God bless you and who you are and who you are meant to be.

          The ones you love are always near you, even when you may feel alone and lonely.  Embrace yourself and Embrace each day!  Love, Pray and Live! …and even embrace change, as it always happens.

College Days …

 

     I graduated from Santa Cruz High School in June of 1962.  That September I enrolled at Cabrillo Jr. College in Aptos.  We were still living out in the boonies on Mountain View Rd.  I was majoring in Elementary Education because at the time I though I wanted to be a teacher.  Ironic, I ending up being a teacher of four (my kids). 

     I took some pretty basic classes.  Political Science, Biology, French, Art History, Speech and English Literature.  At first my Dad drove me, but then he let me use the car occasionally.  I drove out the back way, past Rodeo Gulch to the Old San Jose Rd and then into Soguel and on to Aptos.

     I really enjoyed my classes the first year, but was unprepared for the lack of pressure to get things done…I took copious notes, but didn’t join a reading group, so I got behind in all the reading…and when final exams came around, I was panicked.  I enjoyed French Class, as the teacher would ignore you, if you spoke to him in English, so I took 3 semesters of French.  I liked Speech class and Art History was great.  Biology and Poly Sci I only passed by the skin of my teeth,

     In 1963, I was in with my Art History buddies when JFK was shot.  So a bunch of us left together and went to one of their homes to listen to the TV.

     After that, I met a guy, strange but now I have even forgotten his name.  He got to talking to me between classes, he was very handsome and flirted a lot with me.  We got to where we met every day, months passed and he was starting to talk about us maybe going on a date.  Then one weekend, I heard in the class that we shared, that he had been killed in a terrible freak accident.  He and a friend had been drinking and were parked somewhere on West Cliff drive, when he must have stepped on the gas, thinking he was in reverse, and his car just plunged off the cliff and landed top down on the rocks and ocean below, killing him instantly.

     I cut class a few days later to attend the memorial services in Watsonville, but they had been changed and so to get closure for myself I drove down to New Brighton Beach and sat on a long listening to the waves.  Something about the ocean had always been a spiritual thing for me…the power of the undertow, the regularity of the waves…the force and power of water.  Anyway I cried my tears for a boy I knew enough to like but would never know enough to love.  After that something happened to me inside.   I realized what I really wanted to do was get a job and quit college for a while until I knew what direction I really wanted to go in.  I had two different boyfriends during this time.  I was almost 20 and had marriage on my mind.  That was a time before women realized there was no rush. 

     My parents were supportive, so I interviewed at the County Bank of Santa Cruz and got a job in the bookkeeping/control  department.  I think I got the job because someone there knew me from church.  Taking this job would change my life and introduce me to the man that I would spend the next 45 years with.

Some Angels Are Human…

          It was 1960 and my social life revolved around my church group. My dad said no dating until I turned 16, so I was looking forward to the beach party our recreation leader had planned at New Brighton Beach. We lived way out in the boondocks of the Santa Cruz Mountains, so I always had to find a generous driver to ride with. The youth director told my Dad he’d get me home.

           It was a fun beach party. We had a lot of fun in the water, then a bonfire and hot dog BBQ. We played beach volleyball, ate, sang songs, an inspirational talk by someone in the group and then we toasted marshmallows to make so’mores. It was my turn to give a talk, so I talked about littering and I made the analogy to how we throw around words, littering with trash talk, swearing and putting people down. Everybody said it was a good talk. I made it short and relevant.

After the party was over, all the stuff was toted to the cars, there was a lot of activity with about thirty kids coming and going. Eventually I started looking around for my ride and discovered to my dismay it was gone. Of course the pay phone wasn’t working, so I figured I may have to walk to a phone or hitch a ride. I was trying not to panic, and so I began to walk to the park entrance to see if there was still an employee on duty. As I was walking, a hot looking blue Chevy pulled alongside me. I recognized the driver as R.L., a really cute guy I had always had a secret crush on. He had another boy in the car with him.

          “You need a ride?”

          “Yeah, I guess my ride didn’t take a head count. I’m not sure what to do. I live way out Branciforte near St. Clare’s Retreat.”

          “ I don’t mind, I am driving to Scotts Valley anyway, I can take Glen Canyon the back way to town.”

            I was quickly reminding myself of every caution I was ever given about riding with boys that I didn’t know well.   I knew I need to make a quick decision, so I  asked God for his protection and guidance.

          R.L.  smiled and opened his door for me and told me to scoot in between him and the mystery guy, who quickly put out the cigarette he was smoking. I climbed in. I don’t remember what we talked about but I was courteously and safely escorted home. Not wanting my Dad to know who in fact brought me home, I asked him to let me out at the bottom of our driveway. Good thing the moon was out, because it was a dark long walk up to the house. Only my mom was awake when I walked in. I think I probably told her what happened, but Dad never did find out. I figured he’d never forgive the youth director. After that I always thought of this guy as my protector. I learned later, got married to a really nice girl and they had a kid right away. She was expecting their third in 1969, about the same time I was expecting my second when a huge log from a semi truck in the lumber yard rolled off and killed him instantly.

          I always remembered what a sweet boy rescued me that night, but glad I wasn’t the one he later widowed so early in life.

Guardian Angels…

     I have never doubted the presence of guardian angels.  There have been innumerable moments in my life that I have know for sure that my life has been in other hands.  Accidents, near accidents, and unusual happenstances confirm it day by day.

          Recently I went out my front door to check on a noise.  I never notice noises when I am with someone, but when I am alone, I always have to know.  My friend asked me, “What possible good could come from it?”  A proper response I am sure, but if it is a bear, I have to know, if it is a person, I want to know.  It is in retrospect a lack of fear, but probably foolish just the same.   Anyway, this particular night I heard a door slam, so I went out my front door and climbed the two steps to my driveway.  I saw and heard nothing, so instead of taking the stairs back down to my doorway, I missed one and fell headlong onto the concrete porch.  I paused for a moment, moaning from the pain, then I pulled myself to a sitting position, took inventory and found nothing broken.  I pulled myself up by the door jam and limped shamefully into the house.

        In retrospect, I realized my head had narrowly missed a shovel, I had been somehow protected, not even hardly sore the next day.  Although two days later, I see that I didn’t help any of my already arthritic joints, but I felt protected from so much worse.

        It reminded me of an incident that took place when I was pregnant with my first child.   I worked for County Bank in Santa Cruz in the control department where I posted the General Ledger, before the computers came on the scene.   The staff lunchroom was across the hallway from our large office.  While eating our sandwiches, we were listening to a radio, which was sitting on a window sill on the outer window that looked out on the lower story of the bank roof.

        I accidentally brushed against the radio and it fell out of the window onto the roof.  There were no screens on the window and in my lack of fear I just straddled the window to reach down and pick it up.  I was young and agile even if I was 4 months pregnant.  Well I soon found it was a bit further to reach than I thought, so I threw my other leg over the window and stepped with both feet together on what I thought was the roof.

        As it turned out, it was a skylight painted over… a brittle glass pane that cracked and let me fall straight through.  I however hung up on the sills on either side of the window pane and as I looked down and saw people on the floor below, some 20 feet down, I almost passed out.  It could have ended so differently, but me and my first baby were meant to live and I was pulled to safety.  Later contemplation on this and many other close calls for myself and my family cause me to continue in my faith in God and knowledge that He does put us in the charge of angels, most times in spite of our innocence, foolishness and fearlessness.  Most times I only have the fear later, but find that angels have indeed interceded on my behalf or on one of my family’s behalf.    I pray daily for my family, and am constantly asking God to watch over them.

      One quick example, has to do with my son-in-law Kenny, who but for the grace of God left the Pentagon before 9-11-01.   He was not in the room he would have been in that fateful day because of a decision he and my daughter made.  Because of that decision, their three children have a father today.

     All my kids have had some close calls, each I am keenly aware of ways in which a worse outcome was thwarted.  Each will find their way into one of my future stories, no doubt. 

        I don’t understand why bad things happen to some people, and why they don’t to others.  That is something we will have to wait to find out some day.  All I know is that God has been gracious to me, has listened and answered my prayers for protection and traveling mercies.  My faith grows with each day, but I realize that I am not indestructible, my day will come to die but although I fear the actual process, I trust that the timing will be perfect in God’s plan for my family.  We are taught to come to God like little children, trusting and with wonder.

      If I have a wish it is that my family, each in their own way find that personal peace that passes human understanding to see them through their days.

My Acting Debut…

          In August of 1964, Joe and his brother Jim and I got involved in College Theater.  Joe’s mom was drawn to show biz people.  So when she found out a choreographer friend of hers (CoraLee) was working on Cabrillo College’s musical “South Pacific”, the three of us were easily roped in, especially since Jim had been in the previous years summer production of “Music Man”.

          I had never participated in anything like that in high school.  I was much too shy, plus we lived so far up in the mountains, I knew it would be a hardship for my father to drive me to town for rehearsals.  I had been out in the workplace for about 6 months, so I was getting braver, so I tried out for the part of a native dancing girl on Bali Hai.  Joe and Jim both got parts in the group of army guys who sang and danced on the beach.

          I practiced the dancing parts and was approved of but then found I was going to be wearing a very skimpy costume.  I knew my father would be attending at least opening night, so I was extremely nervous.  Not unjustifiably so, as he was distressed I was willing to be seen in public like that; it was the first of many trials to come between my father and my future in-laws.

          I remember my shock when backstage I discovered people were very uninhibited.  One girl sat in her bra while people wandered in and out during make-up prep.  It was my introduction to the world of acting and working with people of very different temperaments and sense of modesty. 

          The girl who played the part of Bloody Mary was the local girl who had lost her leg to a shark while surfing on the beach.  She played the part so very well, as did the people with singing parts.  The group I danced with became skilled in dancing with sticks.  I felt like a celebrity and enjoyed the experience and have always wanted to try it again…but haven’t.

          I still love all those songs like “101 Pounds of Fun – that’s my little honey bun”; I’m as corny as Kansas in August, high as a kite on the fourth of July.  If you’ll excuse an expression I use, I’m in love with a wonderful guy.” ”I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair” and “There is nothing like a Dame.” 

          So South Pacific is a part of who I am; was my debut and swan song as an actress.  After one night’s performance, Joe proposed and I said, “Yes”.

Spring…

When I was young, spring was always a fun season to look forward to. Winters were cold and icy in New Mexico and Texas and spring meant getting to play outside. In Oregon, spring meant wildflowers, walks up the mountain, a new batch of chicks or kittens. During the years we lived in California on the coast, I wasn’t as aware of the four distinct seasons, but living in Arnold has caused me to cherish spring.

I remember many spring rituals. In New Mexico, I remember my mother beating of the carpets out on the clothesline, followed by other spring housecleaning and airing out the house. Easter preparation specially marked by my mother spending time at the sewing machine, making me a new sundress. She boiled up lots of eggs for coloring and hiding. Later there were lots of egg salad sandwiched and deviled eggs. I looked forward to the special music and remembrances of Christ at Easter Sunday services at church. I was amused by the wearing of hats, by women and other little girls. As a child I was never subjected to that particular torture but I always wanted the new dress to wear.

During my teenage years, spring began the tanning time, even if it was cool and sunny sometimes. It was worth being the girl with the tan to show off with the new sundress.

When Joe and I started our own family. Spring was always a time to spray for spiders, clean the windows inside and out, sweeping off the deck and raking in the yard. Getting Easter baskets and clothes for the kiddies. When we first moved to Arnold, the kids were nine, six, two and a babe in arms. The kids all went to Chapel in the Pines, and there were Easter programs and church stuff, and Easter Egg hunts.

 2009-2010 has been a long winter for me. We had storm damage, Snow for months and I just couldn’t seem to get warm. I would spend most of my time under my electric blanket reading. The one day we had no electricity, I camped next to the fireplace watching the snow build up outside. Joe has had to practically pry me out of the house. The last few days have been so full of hope. I walk outside and feel the sunshine on my face and hands… I am feeling so blessed and thankful for this particular change of season. There is something about sunshine that makes me happy inside. I love watching the squirrels play in the trees and I love hearing the sounds of birds coming back.

 Thank God for a season that can thaw out the heart. Thank goodness for spring.

The stormy vacation…

           We were looking forward to our cruise from Long Beach to Catalina Island and then on to Encinada, Mexico, a repeat of our first ever cruise. This one we booked a good six months ahead of time and arranged for our son and his family to take their first cruise with us. Little did we know…

           Mid-January we had heard the weather report and knew by leaving we were going to miss a big Sierra Nevada storm, which we were happy to miss. Sunday the 17th we drove to LA on a cloudy overcast day and got a good nights rest and a pleasant dinner at Home Town Buffet with the kids. I call them kids, but they are adults and have two kids, 13 and 10. Next morning we slept in and had a leisurely breakfast before making our trek to the Carnival Lines. Now by this time it was windy (about 40 knots) and the 100 foot gangplank was a challenge in the wind and showers. By the time our other friends, Glenda and Cat came aboard, they got soaked in the pouring rain. We all got together at dinner and shared stories. It was a pleasant evening and the waiters sang and danced for us and then went to a song and dance show -Extreme Country. Then we all turned in exhausted but happy to be settled in.

          The first one to get sick was Rebecca. Then the next day Holly, followed by Joey. At lunch the next day, no one was allowed near the food and the waiters served us in the buffet line. So we knew some kind of bug was going around Joe, Maddie and I never did get sick on the boat. Miraculously on Thursday we were all well on the day we took tenders from the ship to Cabo San Lucas. Oh, I forgot to mention because of the storms coming into the Pacific they had to totally change our destination…no Catalina, no Encinda, instead a long two days at sea down to Cabo, which turned out to be a beautiful and pleasant destination. We got off at about 10 am and were told to be back on the ship by no later than 5:30 as the ship was sailing at 6 pm. We walked around the waterfront, went shopping, got serenaded by mariachis and did a lot of bonding. The Six of us had a wonderful Mexican Dinner on a patio in the plaza.

          My favorite spot on the deck was on the Lido deck, where there is open air, but you are sheltered from the winds. Friday We had to vacate our rooms by noon, so the staff could get ready for the next cruise and since we were late returning, we perched staked out a place for the family to sit and wait for hours to disembark. It was dark when we finally got off the boat. After all that it took Joey 8 hours to drive home which formerly only took 4 hours – there was snow on the Tehatchipi pass. So they got home at 3 am and Holly had to be to work at 7am.  On the other hand, Joe and I spend a night in Long Beach and I got sick at 4 in the morning. The next day (Saturday) it took Joe and I an hour to get out of Long Beach as we took a wrong road and had to make a big circle. After that it was smooth sailing and we decided to stop and spend the night at our daughters in La Grange.

          About 9 am we trekked on home, only to spend another couple of hours trying to get up the hill past PG&E, AT&T and Tree removal services. What a maze of fallen trees and downed lines. Our home looked like a war zone and Daniel and his family told us about their harrowing night of the wind and snow. One tree had snapped and took out part of our deck and then turned sideways and hit the chimney wire mesh cover and then fell into the bed of a pickup in the driveway.  It was like a miracle the roof was not damaged. We were so glad to be home until we found out the electricity had been off for 4 days… but as luck was with us it was repaired by 4 pm on Saturday and we had phones and electricity. I crawled in my electric blanket and covered my head and thanked God for all his protection and for all the little coincidences that made life bearable. I don’t look back on it as a bad vacation. It was challenging but as my husband put it best, it was a vacation we won’t soon forget.

My most unforgettable character…

          My mother-in-law, God Rest her Soul, was either Nana or Dee to anyone she knew, although her legal name was Genevieve Beatrice Williams-Hill.  I don’t even know where to start in describing this woman.  She was an enigma and learning to live pleasantly with her was the challenge of a lifetime.  She was as fierce as a mother bear with her sons.  No one would be good enough.  She said someday I’d know how she felt.  I do.  At the time she drove me to insanity, well almost.

            She was the daughter to Alpha Omega and a Texas oilman named Burt Williams.  She was raised like a princess who just assumed the orange juice would be by her bedside in the morning.  She wore a $20 gold piece around her neck and on a whim gave it to aa little girl she met.  She rebelled against her parents and married to get away early.  She had four sons.  The first two had other fathers.  My husband and his brother were full brothers, and she was married to their Papa Joe for over 40 years before she died.

           She was trained as a classical and jazz pianist.  During WWII she played for the USO dances given in Texas for the servicemen.  It was during this time she met Louis Armstrong and Pearl Bailey.  Pearl became a life long friend who treated Dee very gratiously when became reacquainted in later life.  Everyone thought she was just bragging about a celebrity that she really didn’t know, as she was known to tell little white lies when it suited her.  But when Pearlie Mae appeared in San Jose and the family got to go backstage and meet her…well, we all ate humble pie.  Whenever Pearl appeared in Las Vegas in the 60’s Dee was sitting right up front.  And when Dee got sick, Pearly Mae gave her a wildly expensive purple velvet stuffed fox that was about 4 feet tall.

          You never wanted to be on the bad side of this woman, it was a terrible position to be in, as I learned early on.  If she was angry at one person, she was mad at everyone, and we all had to hear her ranting and raving about the incident that happened and if it was in your power to get the person who erred to apologize to her, it was best for everyone.  I remember once I was the target of her anger, and I don’t even remember why, but I had to sit until she got it all out of her system, it took about an hour and I remember actually tuning her out at one point, as I sat looking at the ground.  Only later in life did I learn how to disagree with her, actually Joe and I had to do it as a couple, as a united front.  On New Years in 1978 we decided to rent a house up in Arnold with just the kids, we were on her bad list for months, she wouldn’t talk to us and when she did it was icy.  After that, it got easier to make some of our own decisions.  At the time I thought I had the mother-in-law from hell, but looking back, I see she was probably just menopausal in its worst form.  We didn’t really realize what was wrong and why it was so bad.  She had a weird air and feeling an entitlement to things…If she was treated badly in pubic or got bad service, you wanted to crawl under the table, while she verbally in a big voice told them off. She thought nothing of taking a salt shaker or whatever she thought she deserved in repayment for their treatment.

           On the other hand, she could be more fun and entertaining with a wonderful sense of humor and she knew how to dress and act like a woman of means.  She was a good mother, a big obsessive, but her boys were her life and if you messed with them, you were messing with trouble.  She adored her grandchildren and spoiled them to no end, and they learned early not to cross her, but she knew how to play with and entertain them.  She taught me a lot of life lessons, mainly patience, and how not to treat my children.  I was forever glad she lived in Las Vegas and not next door.   She was a second home to all her Las Vegas neighborhood kids and they all called her Nana and her husband Jake was Papa.  My two older kids loved to spend the summer with her.

           I have yet to meet anyone else like her.  She was a one of a kind and totally unforgettable. From time to time I see traits of hers in my kids…but thankfully they all picked one trait and use it for the good.  None of them will take any crap off anyone. Thanks Nana, for sharing your son.  She died in 1987 from complications of a Recluse Spider Bite.  She didn’t have to linger as an invalid, as that would have been totally out of character. She knew when to make an entrance and when to leave.  The night she dies there was the most terrible thunder and lightning storm which I always attributed to her giving St Peter whatfor!

My Father…

          My father, Una Uriah Casey was born in Fulton, Mississippi in 1891. Sometime around 1900, his family moved to Mangum, Oklahoma.  He was the 2^nd oldest of 10.  After settling in, his father bought him a shoeshine kit so he made a box and swung it over his shoulders and started shining shoes in the streets and in stores for a nickel.  Later he washed dishes at the Carbine Hotel in north Mangum for a Mrs. Estlebaum.  Then he worked at Moore Bros. Bakery greasing pans.  He got thirty-five cents for both these jobs, Eventually he went to work for a man, chopping cotton for $1 a day. His older brother got to work at the meat market, which their father finally bought in about 1907.  So when my father was strong enough his father had him grinding sausage and chopping meat.  In my father’s words “Once Dad bought a new meat chopper (a bowl-shaped thing with two knives that cut the meat fed by hand).  I must have overfed the “blasted thing” for it clipped off my middle finger.  I picked up the stub and ran down the alley to Dr. Stovall’s office.  He asked me why I bought the stub along.  I insisted he stick it back on, which he did.” 

          At the age of 18, he records that he become a born again Christian and was baptized.  About the same time but unrelated, he bought a 22 caliber rifle, his first gun.   He recorded the following memories about the town; after the rains, they had to lay down planks to walk on for sidewalks over the mud on the main streets.  There was an ample hitching post, and watering troughs for the horses.  There were professional horse traders and the wagon yard was always busy.  Farmers were furnished bunk beds and even a stove where they could cook a snack if they were short of cash. 

          He went overseas with the 105th aero squadron, leaving for France in November of 1917. At the age of 28 and mustered out (discharged) July 1919.  He wrote to my mother and several of her sisters while he was overseas, they were 3^rd cousins.  Then he said “Burton Summers and me secured a homestead in Lincoln County, New Mexico near Corona.  We were only together about a week when Burton was struck by lightning and killed instantly. I went ahead and proved upon my section in one year.  I had no desire to continue in the meat market business with dad and my brother in Mangum.  Like most of the boys that returned from overseas, I was a bit restless.  So I took off from Oklahoma in April of 1922 and ended up in Seattle after a week and stayed there until July 31st when I left for Los Angeles, CA.

          He singled out my mother Viola, as his special girl pen pal and after proposing by mail and asking her parents permission, he sent for her to take the train to Temple City, CA.  That September they were married in a parsonage and later honeymooned on Catalina Island.