German Immigrants

My German great-grandmother

I found photos of my great grandparents (Mildred’s parents) who came to American from Germany. My mother Elle marvels that back then no one smiled in photographs. People did not smile when posing for paintings because it required too much effort over long periods to do anything but pose at repose. People didn’t smile in old photos because it took a long time for the shutter to stay open and if they smiled their facial expressions would change. The photographer recommended that they not smile but have an at repose expression to keep the mouth area from blurring.

My German great-grandfather

This was a time in American when those who immigrated here were largely looking for a way to a better life and though people retained being German, Irish, Italian, etc they happily and proudly became Americans. They were expected to learn English and adapt to their new place of residence. How different this is from today when many immigrants want to live as if they are still in the country they left behind. If I move to another country it is expected I will learn their language and adapt to their ways, not the other way around.

Jealousy

When Elle married Skeets they had to run away to another town which was one of the few locations at that time where a minor did not need parental consent to get married. Since she was a minor Elle’s marriage annulment was not a difficult process. There were times in the years to come when Elle wished she’d stayed married to Skeets. He loved her, was a responsible man who would have been a good husband and father. Who among us doesn’t occasionally ponder how our lives might be in the present had our past decisions been different.

Based on my observation and experience with life I believe who we marry is the second most important decision of our lives. How we relate to our creator is definitely in a class by itself as number one but the marriage decision affects everything in our entire lives for the rest of our lives. The magnitude of this choice cannot be underestimated and should not be taken lightly. Then again many remain single due to fear of a bad or wrong decision. There is always risk in every decision we make, even to get out of bed in the morning.

After the annulment Elle focused on working and her education. She attended classes and studied when she wasn’t working her car hop job. What made her study accounting when she hated math and thought she wasn’t good at it? Whatever it was I think she passed the trait onto me. Often I’ve endeavored things I had no natural interest or aptitude for or was afraid to try in order to overcome fear, stretch and grow as a person.

When one of Elle’s regular customers, Sam asked her out repeatedly one day she finally consented. They had a fun first date at a football the attended game with other young people. Sam continued asking her out and it soon became a regular thing. Sam was crazy about her and Elle fell in love with him. Less than a year later they got married and Elle says Sam was the best lover she ever had in her life. Elle put her college courses on hold and took a full time job as a bookkeeper for a man who owned two furniture stores.

One day when Elle got to work at the main store where the offices were located, her boss was standing outside on the street curb looking at the smoldering building. Somehow the night before the building caught on fire and most of the furniture store contents were lost. When the fire was completely out Elle helped her boss look rummage for any business documents and records that were salvageable from the ruins. She then accepted the task of helping re-establish all the business books and record keeping systems. This was before computers or backup systems.

I remember hearing about how the great American inventor Thomas Edison got his children out of bed late one night to come see the fire that was burning down his plant where his experiments and manufacturing were done. When Edison lost records for his experiments the backup system was what he could locate in his cranial files. I sometimes think of Edison when I experience a setback or need to start something over because he didn’t lie down and die but failed forward.

“Although I am over 67 years old I’ll start over again tomorrow. I am pretty well burned out tonight, but tomorrow there will be a mobilization here and he debris will be cleared away, if it is cooled sufficiently, and I will go right to work to reconstruct the plant, said Mr. Edison as he watched the flames destroy building after building.” New York Times, Dec 10, 1914

Elle had to spend a good deal of time with the furniture store owner since together they were trying to get the business re-established. Sometimes they discussed business issues and plans while having lunch together- it was a very busy time. One day Sam started questioning Elle about the time she was spending during lunch with her boss. This shocked Elle who dismissed his concern as completely unnecessary. Sam however did see it as a light matter and a side of him began surfacing that would eventually prove fatal to the survival of their love- jealousy. Once the jealousy surfaced Sam’s obsession with it only grew worse.

“Jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive.” Havelock Ellis (British psychologist and author 1859-1939)

Thomas Edison 1878

Incandescent light bulbs are going to become extinct in a few years because our federal government has caved to the environmental lobbyists and soon these bulbs available since Edison’s time will be illegal to manufacture or sell. That means only ugly fluorescent light for our children and grandchildren..I hate fluorescent light!

$$Shiver or Swelter$$?

Okay I can't help myself. Time magazine has an article linking the recent snow storms to global warming. White Christmas is now an ominous treat to the continuance of civilization. I never mean to offend anyone but this is hilarious. Throughout history (oh no does this mean studying the actual facts?) our climate has phases of hotter and colder. More scientists clearly recognize this than the few climate alarmists who use fear to line their pockets. Let's be objective in our study of history and climate.

Personally I believe this is mostly alarmist and money making efforts for some research scientists who need government money to keep their jobs and a basis for very creative potential tax increases. My air space needs to be taxed because I am using it to spread nasty CO2. Humans are the big bad culprits leaving nasty footprints. C'mon. We create a tiny amount of CO2 but try keeping a rainforest or any plants without CO2. If anyone honestly studies the history of weather and climate change it is not hard to see that it always cycles. We are sooo gullible to the media! Besides I can't get afraid of global warming because I haven't yet gotten past the enormous fears generated not many decades ago that we were rapidly transitioning into an ice age. I don't like being cold so I'm still afraid of that!

As 2010 draws to a close, do you remember hearing any good news from the mainstream media about climate? Like maybe a headline proclaiming "Record Low 2009 and 2010 Cyclonic Activity Reported: Global Warming Theorists Perplexed"? Or "NASA Studies Report Oceans Entering New Cooling Phase: Alarmists Fear Climate Science Budgets in Peril"? Or even anything bad that isn't blamed on anthropogenic (man-made) global warming...Hot Sensations Vs. Cold Facts, December 27, 2010

Forbes.com  The media owe us better coverage on the climate than alarmism

American Media

Writing non-fiction means truth telling. Whether one is a journalist, historian or technical writer the documenting is menat to be honest and factual. The journalist especially bears an ethical and professional obligation to stick to reporting the facts without personal bias or evaluation.  The historian's main job also is providing facts though it is inevitable that opinions and evaluations are included. This is acceptable as long as the audience can detect the difference. It is so easy for a reporter to confuse the facts as they happened with their interpretation of those facts. What is completely unacceptable is historical revisionism which is nothing more than altering the facts to suit one's presuppositions.


While various existing codes have some differences, most share common elements including the principles of — truthfulness, accuracy, objectivity, impartiality, fairness and public accountability — as these apply to the acquisition of newsworthy information and its subsequent dissemination to the public. Wikipedia


Modern American journalism has so veered from high standards of objective reporting that I wish we could have term limits for journalists. It is difficult to find a trustworthy media professional who cares more about reporting facts than pushing an agenda. The twisting, churning and selective presenting is out of hand and we desperately need a revival of high ethics among media professionals. Thankfully now with blogging and social media anyone can speak their mind without the censorship that has had a strangle hold on American print, radio and television broadcasting.


It grieves me to imagine people in other countries acquiring an opinion about what American citizens are like based on what is fed them by newspapers and the often worthless television programs produced by Hollywood. I can't yell it loudly enough to the rest of the world- please don't believe that the United States is what you see on television. Most of us live ordinary lives and seek to be good, honest, hard working citizens and caring family people. I've heard story after story about people discovering what Americans are really like (the good stories) when visitors travel around and meet the real people. 


Not to brag but Americans are largely still prone to generosity and compassion. I know that is a sweeping generalization but I also know it is true. One recent example is the way so many people (even may I personally know) took time off work and their busy lives to go to Haiti to help the earthquake victims last year. I was amazed by the en masse focus on raising money and supplies to ship to Haiti as well as those who traveled there just to help in some way with construction, clean up, clean water, food, medical care, etc. There can be no evil intent when helping people who have no way to repay.

Concerning documenting history I intend to tell the truth about my mother, grandmother and other relatives who set the stage at least for my life. There were men but more women who set the backdrop for my childhood. I am committed to making a clear distinction between when I am writing the historical facts and sharing my opinions about them. This is a scary, daunting undertaking because I want to do it well.


I also need to state that I am a loyal and patriotic lover of my country. I cry when I hear our national anthem. I know we are far from perfect but like loving one's imperfect family I love my imperfect yet beautiful country. I love a lot of other countries too; especially places I've visited or long to visit but... there's no place like home. There was even one time I came back to the US and actually did think about kissing the ground when I left the airplane.


Yet I have a perpetual wanderlust for visiting and even living in other countries. Wanderlust is a strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world. There exists a long list of places where I long to visit and even live for a time. There's not enough life to fit it all in. I love meeting people and experiencing life from new perspectives. I just want to be clear about who I am and what I am about. I am an American woman writing about life growing up and living here. Because I am an American woman I take my liberty to be authentic about the good and bad.


Whether concerning my country or family of origin I intend to speak the truth but do not want to downgrade or tear down. Any fool can look for what is wrong and focus on it with a big yellow highlighter! What little imagination is required to look for the negative and squawk and complain about it? The human condition is such that the finger pointing so often points back toward the complainer. We are joint strugglers on life's stage where none are excluded from problems, trials, tears or regrets.  So bottom line….while we are here we can be more accepting, less judging and we might as well dance!

So here is a clip of my favorite danceing style: West Coast Swing. Warning: it's Addictive!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MmbApsDQ3o&feature=related

War Effort & Sexual Harassment

Elle- United States Coast Guard

History is challenging and can be confusing to document, especially the sequences of events as they occurred. Sometime in the early 1940’s between the time Elle had her marriage to Skeets annulled and started college while working as a burger, milkshake and soda car hop, she joined the United States Coast Guard. She didn’t see herself this way but she obviously was adventurous.

The servicemen were not home yet even though the war in Europe was officially over. They were still fighting in Japan after Germany had surrendered.  This was before the bombs were dropped in Japan to force an end to the fighting. Right after Skeets went overseas as part of the forces in the occupied areas in Germany, Elle decided to join the United States Coast Guard. Elle said there was a lot of cleaning up to do in the war torn places after the German surrender.

Although she had already filed for an annulment Elle was concerned about Skeets. She was still a young girl but also wanted to do something to help the war cause- to make a positive difference. She wanted to do something that might help since so many of our men were soldiers and not on our own shores to do the things that were usually under male jurisdiction.

Elle and her commanding officer didn’t get along mainly because she wouldn’t consent to his continual hitting on her to spend the weekend with him. Elle was working in a supply place and because she wouldn’t go out with the commanding officer he started giving her a hard time in various ways one of which was having her hair cut short. Since they didn’t get along she wanted out and he was willing to turn in papers for her early release. Elle’s desires to make a difference for her country and freedom were interfered with by sexual harassment before it had a name.This is something Elle had to deal with throughout her life because men would hit on her -she was beautiful.

Elle in United States Coast Guard uniform

Snowflake Designer

This is one of my best years for Christmas ever. Family, counting blessings and getting snowed in are what made it. With few cars on the road I put on my boots and walked to a place that was open for breakfast. My pants legs got covered with snow. It was cold and windy but fantastic being outside and feeling a bit like I lived in a different era when things were not so fast paced and people actually walked places and took their time interacting with others. I love the way snow unobtrusively portrays peace and quiet.  One has to respect snow when it calmly blankets the earth.

We moderns are way too cut off from nature for our own good. As I watched the snow falling outside the large window in the breakfast place I remembered that every single snowflake that has ever fallen is one of a kind just like people are one of a kind. Unfathomable! This is the sort of intellectual reality that challenges any vestiges of agnosticism or atheism. Whenever I feel doubt about whether God exists, who He is or what He is really like I start asking myself intellectual questions. It never takes long to be reminded of what is true if we face facts. How could every snowflake that has ever fallen throughout history be one of a kind, having its own signature? And why would it matter when the naked eye can’t tell the difference anyway? Only one explanation-there has to be a snowflake designer who can see and enjoy each one without needing a microscope or magnifying glass.

So there I was finishing breakfast when the place announced they were closing early due to weather conditions and were therefore giving away the breads, croissants, bagels and pastries that were baked the night before. Everything had to be used or thrown away (here we are again in our throw-away culture). I and others that were there filled bags with goodies to carry home. Then a few of us went behind the counter and announced to those coming in the door in the nick of time that they could select whatever they wanted for free. What fun pretending I worked there and giving out freebies. Then some of us loaded the remains into large boxes that one person drove to a church and homeless shelter. I like this place but respect them all the more for literally going the extra mile in inclement weather to give the food to people who can use it rather than doing the easy thing by throwing it in the trash. This was Panera Bread (they deserve some media kudos for the way they operate) and here are a few photos of the cozy place of beautiful smells.

Panera Bread

Panera Bread in the 2010 Christmas snow

The White Christmas dream come true.

Snow -Christmas 2010

Anullment & American burgers

As a girl Elle was very athletic and her sports participation included archery, shooting rifles/marksmanship, swimming and gymnastics. Elle was beautiful but felt she was too short at about 5’ 2” so for photos she tried her best to stand tall on her tiptoes.


After Elle’s marriage to Skeets was annulled he was heartbroken. When she ran away to marry him he took her to stay with his parents since he was in the military and had to leave her soon after the wedding. Elle was a teenager and had married him after a fight with her mother that made her want to run away from home. There was no place for her to run so consenting to marry Skeets was a viable option. She told him the problem with the plan was that she did not love him- at least not as more than a friend. Skeets was a bit older and assured Elle that he loved her enough for the two of them and that she would grow to love him.


Elle was fond of Skeets who was a good man, adored her and would have been a good husband. The main problem was his departure so soon after their marriage. She was such a young girl and needed him to be with her. Of course he could not be since the military required him to go where and when they sent him. He went on ships so it was impossible for his new young bride to join him.  Years later Elle received a telephone call from Skeets because he was considering remarriage to someone else and could not find legal documentation about their annulment. He needed her help but it turned out that she needed his help even more.


After Elle’s annulment she returned to living with her mother and attended college during the day and got a job working nights as a car hop at a burger and milkshake place. The all American hamburger started gaining popularity before World War II. Of course it wasn't until the milk shake machine salesman Ray Kroc met the two McDonald brothers that burger history would be forever changed and the burger would be placed next to mom's apple pie as an American icon. McDonalds eliminated carhops to make everything self serve.


Elle became one of the restaurants best car hops. She was not on roller skates as car hops later were but she ran constantly all night. She was paid a small percentage of her sales plus the tips that really added up. Since she was good she did well in tips, enabling her to afford to attend college and join with several other girls for an apartment within walking distance from the burger place. The carhops were assigned to numbered stations and Elle acquired favorite customers who would sit in their cars and wait until her station was available. One regular customer was a group of guys who came there several times per week to eat dinner after they got off of work. They liked Elle and one of them named Sam was especially fond of her and started asking her out.


Elle herself was surprised by the focus of her college studies- accounting. Math had never been her strong suit and she actually hated it. She wanted nothing to do with any career involving math yet there she was studying bookkeeping and accounting. Life is sometimes filled with mystery and surprise.

Menu at car hop burger place

First McDonalds in San Bernadino, CA

Estrangement and Joy

It’s Christmas Day! I’m so thankful we celebrate Christmas the way we do in America. I love it. Maybe it is my imagination but it seems like this year there is less emphasis on materialism and more focus on basics- the things that are most important. I love it. It’s been a mixed bag though as it is perhaps for many people.

I love my children with everything in me and would give my life in a heartbeat for each of them. But there is a word I dislike- estranged. Not all my children share Christmas with me because they choose not to do so. As history unfolds during the coming year I will be sharing the saga that brought us all to where we are this day. It is a long story and I won't try and make it short. It sometimes seems way too complicated to even consider documenting but I intend to do my best.

Nonetheless this Christmas like so many is a mixture of sharing love, joy and laughter along with sadness, regrets, guilt feelings and longings for much more. The reality of not having all my children near me at Christmas time cuts my heart deeply. I try focusing on what I do have and who does want to be with me.

The children who dismiss me believe I have been an inadequate mother. Of course I have been that. Is any mother adequate to the daunting calling? Many do better than I but I have tried, with many failings to be sure but I have tried, never given up and always, always loved my kids beyond description. I don’t know about other mothers but nothing can change my love for my children even if they divorce me as their mom.

Yesterday- Christmas eve those who chose at this time to love me and be with me made it hands down one of the best days of my year. They did that by giving me the gift of their time. There is no greater gift we can give to another human being. We enjoyed a marvelous sit down brunch at the dining room table - all of us together. Then we managed to get everyone out the door and went ice skating at an outdoor downtown city ice rink.

Everyone else at the skate rink seemed happier than people usually are. It was so much fun. There were lots of Santa hats and smiles and people saying Merry Christmas to strangers. Wow!  We skated in our coats, hats, scarves and gloves to Christmas music. Hats are fantastic for keeping warm. I guess that is why hats are put on babies’ heads at birth to prevent loss of body heat. I remember that too with all my babies. Once a mother always a motherJ Watching them skate, smile, laugh and have fun was such a gift. The expedition was a big hit- hooray!

After skating we came home and prepared a to die for dinner with as much natural and organic ingredients as possible. We had spiced cider, wine, turkey, uncured ham, mashed organic potatoes, organic yams, salad, and peas, chopped, steamed organic Swiss chard, gravy and lots of cranberry sauce. I prefer the whole berry kind- how about you? Cranberry sauce is probably my favorite part of the feast. Incidentally everything was zero calories! The best part is we all sat together at the table eating and conversing- to me sharing a meal with good conversation is one of the most beautiful evidences of being civilized creatures.

I've heard that in some cultures eating together is a way of sealing contracts and agreements. Eating is such a basic human function yet also an intimate experience we can share with others. I first observed people who valued food with meaningful conversation during my college years. I was so impressed and forever changed by this practice of eating good food artfully prepared and served with flowers on the table and plenty of talking and listening. I decided this was really living!

While preparing for and enjoying all the merriment I was pondering how God so often commanded his people in the Old Testament to have feasts. He had them do it right – usually at least seven days. That seems more humane as one day just isn’t enough to spend time doing fun, relaxing things. I love the way Europeans have more humane holidays/vacations than we in the United States. Europeans know how to take long holidays that provide adequate time for exploring, relaxing, regrouping and whatever one needs to do to regain what is needed for working the rest of the year. Americans are all about work at break neck speed, sometimes working till we drop. We could use more balance with time off from work enabling us to work better or at least be more fully human.

Last December I listened to the audio version of Mike Huckaby’s book which is his biography centered around the Christmas’s in his life- a good way to recall the years of our lives. I’ve let Christmas veer me off the main track of documenting history and I’ve prattled about other things. Call it procrastination too as I wrestle with how to approach this day by day endeavor I’ve committed to for at least the coming year. It's scary.

Last night at dinner we discussed Bing Crosby and how he was as a father and family man. My kids heard he was abusive and that his oldest son wrote about it in a book. My mother (Elle) insists Crosby was not abusive but rather a strict disciplinarian whose kids were not allowed to run wild like some Hollywood brats. Could this be a generational perspective about what acceptable or good discipline looks like? My mom mentioned that the daughter of Betty Davis wrote a biography that included unfavorable things about her mother. Betty asked her daughter why she hadn’t waited until after her death to write lies about her.

Sometimes people lie and twist the truth. Sometimes people perceive reality in very different ways. This is a tough thing to understand or swallow. How can two people see one thing so differently? I believe I have failed in some ways as a mother but I also believe that my estranged children have distorted reality to fit what they have been told or want to believe is true partly to justify some of their own less than admirable choices. I feel they do not know the real me because for so long they have caricatured me as someone I am not, tried to force me to fit into their story of me and at times even ganged up on me in their verbal abuse and rejection. 

Have you ever been around others who treat you a certain way so often that you start behaving that way even if it isn’t really who you are?  Am I making any sense ? Sometimes children become the way we treat them- like the kid placed in the slow reading group who lives up to the expectation. Adults can do it too. I can start behaving like a bitch if I am consistently surrounded by those treating me like one. Who wants to be around people like that anyway? This is both hilarious and sad but I prefer to laugh today because laughter is great medicine.

Well I’ve tried to cajole and win their love far too long because they are my children and I wanted their love and mistakenly tried all I could to get it.  I tried, pursued, cajoled, gifted, hoped, accepted any treatment that came my way, allowing myself to be mistreated, demeaned, ignored and regarded as a dumpster. This only contributed fuel to the fire of their disrespect and disdain. Oh I forgot – mothers are responsible for all the problems not only of their children but also the entire universe! LOL

Merry merry Christmas. I hope you write- is anybody there!

Christmas 2010

Christmas feast preparation

Christmas fire and candles

Merry Merry Christmas!

Emmanuel- God is with us!

It's a Wonderful Life with Traditions & Light Therapy

Today I am pondering traditions. They are part of what makes a family, a home, a life and a legacy. I remember my Gran’s myriad of Christmas traditions not the least of which was the holiday menu. How and when relatives were visited was done the same way year after year- as long as they were alive. Every Christmas Eve I knew I’d find the big Santa face wrapping paper hiding my most important gift.

I try to uphold traditions but it isn’t always easy. Family time on Christmas Eve is one of the strongest that remains. Decorating the house and a live Christmas tree that smells good continues happening though every year I feel the task of making it all happen can feel daunting. It’s worth it- worth the effort required to set the stage with decorations and traditions because people are important.

I do my best to attend a production of Handel’s Messiah every December. I first heard it when I was nineteen and thought I’d stepped halfway into heaven. That first year I heard it live but only after listening to a recording while reading along with the written lyrics as the music played…over and over and over until I memorized all the lyrics. I remember cleaning the house with Handel’s heavenly music blasting. I was spellbound by the Scriptures brilliantly made more alive by such an incredibly gifted man. When I finally attended the production I don’t think my feet stayed on the ground. I was thrilled to the core.

My fascination with Handel has never ceased. Apparently Handel suffered as I do from SAD-Seasonal Affective Disorder which basically means that without enough sunlight in the wintertime one slows down in varying degrees and can even become depressed. I found help and was able to diagnose and treat myself with light therapy from NIH researcher Norman Rosenthal who wrote Seasons of the Mind and later Winter Blues.  The sun’s magnificent rays enter through the eyes and into the brain where the control panels exist for energy levels, creativity, appetite and mood. Without the natural rays anyone can go downhill, some people more than others.

Dr. Normal Rosenthal’s research about SAD started at NIH

Apparently Handel struggled to compose during the winter months. Some of the great artists traveled south in the winter not just to have something to paint but to be able to paint at all. I marveled that Handel wrote the Messiah in its entirety in approximately twenty-three days during the summertime. His creative genius was unleashed in the warmth and sunshine and he was obsessed until the marvelous work was completed.

George Frideric Handel

Another tradition I enjoy at Christmastime is movies, especially A Wonderful Life and Bing Crosby movies like Holiday Inn. Do you have any favorites?

George Bailey

 

No one can sing White Christmas like Bing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aShUFAG_WgM

Bing Crosby with Danny Kaye in White Christmas

What are your traditions?

According to the U.S. Postal Service

According to the U.S. Postal Service, millions do actually write to Santa, and based on a review of those received thus far, many of them this year are asking for “essentials” instead of just games and toys.

As reported in last Wednesday’s USA Today:

At New York City's main post office, Head Elf Pete Fontana and 22 staff elves will sort 2 million letters in Operation Santa, which connects needy children with "Secret Santas" who answer their wishes.

Fontana, a customer relations coordinator for the Postal Service, has been head elf for 15 years.

"The need is greater this year than I've ever seen it," he says. "One little girl didn't want anything for herself. She wanted a winter coat for her mother."

That really pulls at your heart, doesn’t it?

Loath to leave my house

"What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well- pleasing to God, not on account of the position or work, but on account of the Word and faith from which the obedience and work flow." Martin Luther

I really like this Martin Luther quote. As an American woman I’m forever perplexed about my role and calling as a woman. Knowing what it means…what is intrinsically a part of me according to God’s design of women versus what may be learned and simply based on the culture of which I am a part is a mystery. The older I grow the fewer things there are of which I am certain but there definitely are still some. I am certain I am created by God and in His image and I’m certain He designed men and women to be very different, not just physically. How that plays out is where the mystery begins.

I love reading anything that promotes the value of women, especially in the roles of wife, mother, and homemaker. I believe that home is an important place whether one is married or single and regardless of age or gender. Home is meant to be the sanctuary for privacy and safety from everything else in the world, the place to be oneself with no need for pretenses. This is the ideal and the goal. What is done in and for the home is important. The size or extent of the home matters little. It is the place to come to, to relax in, to just be with no requirements. Home is the museum for memories. Vacations are too. Children remember vacations the most because they are out of the ordinary routine…but the routine matters. Being there really matters even if it is never acknowledged. There is always someone who sees what we attempt for good, however small. I’ve felt for years that whether I am ruling a country (and believe I could if I had some very good advisors) or cleaning a toilet it is all valuable, important in God’s economy. There are really no little places or people. All honest work has inherent dignity.

Anyone we help create a “home” for matters- even if it is just for ourselves because we matter too. One of my favorite poems is about a homeless woman who dreams of having a place to live and be.

An Old Woman of the Roads

 O to have a little house!

To own the hearth and stool and all!

The heaped-up sods upon the fire,

The pile of turf against the wall!

To have a clock with weights and chains

And pendulum swinging up and down!

A dresser filled with shining delph,

Speckled and white and blue and brown!

I could be busy all the day

Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,

And fixing on their shelf again

My white and blue and speckled store!

I could be quiet there at night

Beside the fire and by myself,

Sure of a bed, and loath to leave

The ticking clock and the shining delft!

Och! But I’m weary of mist and dark,

And roads where there’s never a house or bush

And tired I am of bog and road

Amid the crying wind and the lonesome hush!

And I am praying to God on high,

And I am praying Him night and day,

For a little house – a house of my own—

Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.

Padraic Colum

Oxford Book of English Verse

Oxford University Press 1939

For clarification, in this poem the “heaped up sods” are pieces of turf that are cut from peat and used for fuel. Delftware is blue and white and sometime speckled. Here are examples:

Delft pitcher www.bluedelft.com

Delft plate www.replacements.com

Can’t you imagine this lady reveling in her place of safety from the elements? She is warm while she listens to the quiet of the fire and pendulum clock. My favorite line in this poem is “sure of a bed and loath to leave.” Just knowing she has a warm, comfortable place to sleep out of the wind and rain makes her rich indeed! In a time when more people than we imagine are either homeless or facing impending homelessness, it is worthy to ponder the simple blessings we easily take for granted. How often I’ve felt loath to leave my home and I feel it today when it is cold and windy outside.

The people of Haiti still face life without homes after the earthquake disaster that left no building standing in their capital city. In the United States people who have never known being without much materially are facing new levels of loss. Several months ago I heard a story on the news that made me wish I could have talked some sense into the woman they were describing. The sheriff showed up at her door to evict her, put her literally out on the street because her home had foreclosed and she had to vacate. When the sheriff arrived he found the desperate woman dead. She had just hung herself to avoid losing her home. If only she could have seen that losing her home was not the end of everything, that the present humiliation and lack of hope she felt for the future would subside. Surely she could have found some new hope for living. This poor lady sadly illustrates the importance of “home”. So if you are alone, lonely, suffering loss or experiencing a less than happy holiday family picture this week, take heart that if you have a place to live, even if alone- you matter to God and have intrinsic eternal worth and dignity just because you exist. Whether this is felt it is real and true nonetheless. If you are homeless or might be soon, hang in there- you are alive so you have a chance to make something beautiful with your life. God says he specialized in giving us beauty for the ashes we find ourselves in or even create for ourselves by our mistakes or errors in judgment.

Not much history today- honestly I am struggling with how to proceed as so many details from the past travel through my mind day and night with breakneck speed. How can I ever remember, condense, do justice to, make interesting enough to be read, etc? And sometimes I wonder what the point is of doing this history/biography endeavor in the first place. If you’ve ever felt loath to leave your home I’d love hearing about it. If you are alone, lonely or grieving or without a home this Christmas season please know you are not fully alone. There exists others who do actually care if you give them a chance.

Christmas Cheer

Only a few days until Christmas so I feel like sharing something that is Christmas beautiful.  It is cold and I don’t feel like exercising which I should do anyway. Here is some Christmas cheer:

Poinsettia

And if you read an earlier post I mentioned I am forcing flower bulbs for the first time in my life. Most of the varieties are growing painfully slow but not this one which started blooming a few days ago:

My forced flower bulbs

Be Recession Proof: Invest in Lipstick

Mildred

Gran bore witness of what industries suffered no loss during the Great Depression. Gran loved makeup and adored costume jewelry. These were the products that did not suffer during the depression because they made women feel good regardless of how broke they were. A little lipstick and a shiny necklace did wonders. Gran devoted considerable time to makeup and jewelry selection and application. She had numerous boxes and drawers containing the wide array of earrings, necklaces and bracelets. I watched as Gran applied her makeup, tweezed unwanted hair and made selected the jewelry to accompany her outfit.

This was the time when a woman would not set foot in a church without a hat on her head so Gran had some lovely hats, some with veils that draped over the top of her face. Whenever Gran did take me to church (always son Easter Sunday) she made sure I was wearing my brand new Easter outfit that included matching shoes, purse and hat. Like the ladies I even wore white gloves to church.  For my Gran a new Easter outfit every year for me was like a birthright. It was fun.

Gran decked herself to the hilt with jewelry and flower corsages. Her favorite was orchid corsages and she wore them on her jacket on Easter and Mother’s Day. She was beautifully overdressed with bold costume jewelry and bright colors. Her favorite color was purple- the color of her favorite flower, the orchid and she enjoyed and flaunted her adornment.

Conservative in my use of jewelry and cosmetic compared to Gran, still I acquired her fascination and preoccupation. I think it is a more unusual woman who does not find pleasure in cosmetics, skin care and jewelry. One only needs to observe the first displays in all department stores. Most sales are made at the first counters where, incidentally, the makeup, jewelry and fragrance are sold. When I am selected as a participant on the survivor show that allows one to bring only one item they regard as necessary for survival. At first I thought perhaps this would be natural food supplements/vitamins but the second thought is reality. I’d take lip gloss!

Note to my readers

I'd be grateful to know your own thoughts and feelings about what I write and whether it provides any inspiration for you. I do hope to hear your perspective, input, about your life and family history, strengths & weaknesses, hopes & dreams, whatever you want to share. I sincerely welcome your feedback about my writing. I really hope to hear from some of you readers in the United States and especially those of you who are reading from places like Croatia, France, Germany and Africa. Thanks in advance for your response. I actually need you to help me stay on target with my goal of writing a family history/biography- see my first entry. Thanks & Merry Christmas!

Squid and Male Passivity

Elle as a Young Girl

Mildred married Dutch when Elle was about eight years old and Elle was excited about the prospect of having a father. Now Elle says her step father whom she always introduced as her father was the man who was just there. He was the sort of fellow who turned over his paycheck to Mildred and she paid the bills and made the decisions about pretty much everything. I recall listening when they had to make like “Where do you want to go?” or “What do you want to do?” They’d go back and forth asking each other. It would go the same way each time –a verbal game of tennis until Gran finally made a decision and Pop would follow her leading.

I think Gran would have liked Pop to make more of the decisions or at least offer some assistance but besides working at the steel mill and fishing he left most of life to his wife. He was a passive, quiet, decidedly dependent man. If my grandmother would have been happier with her husband taking more leadership and participating more actively in the day to day decisions and affairs, she did not know how to express such things. Life was more accepted as it came and people usually did what they needed to do with the cards they were dealt.

Pop sometimes went on day fishing trips that meant going on a large boat with other men and returning home with fish he would then clean and cook. Often Pop would fish from piers and he’d take me with him. He quietly taught me how to find things in his tackle box and bait the hook with bloody squid.  I didn’t mind and enjoyed catching a fish that Pop would later clean and fry for us to eat. There is nothing like eating the fish you caught earlier the same day.

Elle said that Pop was there really only in physical presence as she grew. She does not remember him being involved in her life or taking an interest in her world. She recalls one time she went out with a guy she was dating and a group of friends. Elle came home past her curfew time and Pop questions, criticized and ended up slapping her in the face. Elle stood up to him and told him never to touch her again…he didn’t.

It is difficult for me to imagine Pop slapping anyone and it had to be a moment completely out of character for him. He may have been a wimp but he was harmless and my memories of him are mostly him “being there” sitting in his recliner chair or driving…if my grandmother had her license she rarely drove. I recall only one time in my entire childhood that she got behind the wheel when I was on a summer road trip with the two of them. I yearned for the moment when she relinquished the wheel back to Pop and I could breathe easily again. Something about her driving was like her temperament- unpredictable and volatile.

Gran had her explosive moments but never towards me. Whenever Gran had to tell me something she spoke kindly because she adored me. She sometimes told me not to tell Pop about whatever toy or jewelry or game she had bought for me. Gran loved buying things for me and I think it became one her most pleasurable endeavors.

I think Pop was the primary recipient of her frustration venting. Apparently my mother also had received her share and their relationship was on-off in Elle’s early adulthood. In later years Elle adored her mother, would do anything for her and tried all she knew how to keep her alive and well. At Gran’s funeral when I was sixteen my mom threw herself at the casket and wailed uncontrollably-“Mom, Mom!!”

Tuberculosis

More historical digging requires some corrections. When Mildred’s parents died she was the oldest girl but the second born. The first born was Henry but Mildred had to provide and care for her two teenage brothers George and Frank, the youngest sister who was ten years old when Mildred’s daughter Elle was born. 

Tuberculosis (TB) is a disease caused by a bacterium called Mycobacterium tuberculosis. The bacteria usually attack the lungs, but TB bacteria can attack any part of the body such as the kidney, spine, and brain. If not treated properly, TB disease can be fatal. TB disease was once the leading cause of death in the United States.

It turned out that Henry was unable to help care for his siblings after the untimely death of his parents because he was in another part of the state where there are mountains in a sanatorium for those recovering from tuberculosis. Those afflicted with tuberculosis suffered in institutions because the disease is contagious. The White Plague or Romantic disease as it was called in previous centuries tuberculosis is caused by bacteria. Later Mildred’s sister also contracted TB and was sent to a sanatorium. These stays lasted months not days as the treatment and recovery was a very slow process. The patients where my family went in the mountains slept on porches so they would have maximum fresh air in their lungs.

“In 1890 Koch developed tuberculin, a purified protein derivative of the bacteria.^[62] It proved to be an ineffective means of immunization but in 1908, Charles Mantoux found it was an effective intradermic test for diagnosing tuberculosis.^[63]  If the importance of a disease for mankind is measured from the number of fatalities which are due to it, then tuberculosis must be considered much more important than those most feared infectious diseases, plague, cholera, and the like. Statistics have shown that 1/7 of all humans die of tuberculosis.”

—Die Ätiologie der Tuberculose, Robert Koch (1882) Wickipedia

“At the beginning of the 20th century, tuberculosis (TB) was one of the UK’s most urgent health problems. After the establishment in the 1880s that the disease was contagious, TB was made a notifiable disease in Britain; there were campaigns to stop spitting in public places, and the infected poor were pressured to enter sanatoria that resembled prisons; the sanatoria for the middle and upper classes offered excellent care and constant medical attention.^[74] Whatever the purported benefits of the fresh air and labor in the sanatoria, even under the best conditions, 50 %% of those who entered were dead within five years (1916). As the century progressed, some surgical interventions, including the pneumothorax or plombage technique—collapsing an infected lung to "rest" it and allow the lesions to heal—were used to treat tuberculosis.” Wickipedia

“Antibiotics were developed in the 1940’s that were effective in treating TB. Hopes that the disease could be completely eliminated were dashed in the 1980s with the rise of drug-resistant strains. Tuberculosis cases in Britain, numbering around 117,000 in 1913, had fallen to around 5,000 in 1987, but cases rose again, reaching 6,300 in 2000 and 7,600 cases in 2005. Due to the elimination of public health facilities in New York and the emergence of HIV, there was a resurgence of TB in the late 1980s. The number of patients failing to complete their course of drugs is high. New York had to cope with more than 20,000 TB patients with multidrug-resistant strains (resistant to, at least, both Rifampin and Isoniazid).

In response to the resurgence of tuberculosis, the World Health Organization issued a declaration of a global health emergency in 1993. Every year, nearly half a million new cases of multidrug-resistant tuberculosis (MDR-TB) are estimated to occur worldwide.” Wickipedia Who would have ever imagined?

La Miseria by Cristóbal Rojas (1886). The author, suffering from tuberculosis, depicts the social aspect of the disease, and its relation with living conditions at the close of the nineteenth century.