I don't know why I can't make that picture so you can really see it & why it has to have such a big box, but...oh well. The couple on the left is Anna May and Al.

If you read my first post, you know that I promised they would not be in any chronological order & this one will be a really good example of that...

The other evening while driving down by the Fairgrounds I was talking to a long-time customer and friend, who lives in Edgewood, on my cell phone --yes, I was using my Hands-free. I had just said "works for me" when I saw a flash of lightning, heard her phone crackle & then go dead. She called me later & said that the lightning had been really close; knocked out their phone, caused a circuit breaker to "break" or whatever they do and there was smoke coming from somewhere. Fortunately no one was hurt & there was no real damage, but that made me think of a freak accident that killed Al, Anna May's second husband. (John, her first husband was a soldier in WW2 and they were divorced after she found out what kind of a scoundrel he was.)

Al was Elsie's dad and she must have been 9 or 10 when they were married, making me 8 or 9. The first time I met her they were at our place for dinner; while everything was being prepared, we were going to go outside to play. I got her coat out of the bedroom, she took it from me, said thank you and slapped my face. I never did find out what that was all about and never again had anyone slap me upon meeting me.

After they were married, they bought a house on the west side of the 1st road west of Five Mile Lake. One day in January, 1951  Al was under the house working; my dad was supposed to be there helping him, but my mother had called Anna May to tell her they were running late--in case any of you had wondered, I came by it honestly--so Anna May went back to doing the dishes. She had just turned from the sink, Al grabbed hold of the pipes under the house to pull himself out when a lightning bolt struck a transformer on the east side of Five Mile Lake. He was instantly electrocuted, as would Anna May have been if she had not turned from the sink. At that time there was a little box inside the house that the phone wires ran through and theirs was a melted mess stuck to the wall. His funeral was Friday, January 13 and there was a terrible blizzard in the area. Grandma & Pop French, the couple shown in the picture with them--Jerry & Cozetta--and our family were the only people except Anna May and Elsie who made it to the funeral. It stayed so cold that winter that his casket (with him in it , of course) had to be kept in cold storage for several weeks before the ground at Cathlamet thawed enough to bury him. I can remember wondering why they had to pay for cold storage when it was so cold outside.

Thinking back about Al makes me think that every child deserves someone like him in their lives; he always made me feel good about myself and I'm sure he did the same with the other kids as well. I remember one time in the care after he had picked me up to spend the weekend at their place, he told me that I would grow up to be a beautiful woman--now I never gave Elizabeth Taylor a run for her money, but I never broke any clocks either.

He was the one who made sure we went to the Puyallup Fair and bought scones for us. At Christmas we could always depend on getting a book of Lifesavers from him.

Now I know that it's hard to believe life before ballpoint pens--I know my grandkids can't believe life before computers! I learned to write with a pencil and then used a stick pen & an inkwell until the 5th or 6th grade when I could use a fountain pen--it actually had a little "bladder" that I filled with ink, so I didn't have to keep dipping my pen & didn't have nearly as many blotches on the paper. Well, when I first saw the ballpoint pens, I really wanted one, but my parents told my we couldn't afford one. Al gave me a TRI-COLOR pen for my birthday. It would write in blue, red & green! What an exciting gift! I probably was more excited about that than many kids are today over an iPod or cell phone.

This is a picture of my mother and me on Graduation Day.

I mentioned clocks and they have also changed a lot since I was growing up. I got my first watch, a 21-jewel Bulova when for 8th grade graduation. It had a black silk band and a gold case. For high school graduation I got a suit and set of luggage--no it wasn't a hint for me to move away, we did, in fact, move to Chicago as soon as school was over that year.

Don't know what made me think of a couple of stories about Grandma French's brothers, Stuart (left) and Victor, but I did.

Stuart was the quietest man I ever knew. I don't believe I heard him utter 100 words in my entire life time. His wife Eva, on the other hand, talked more than anyone else I ever knew. Kirwin (Fern's husband) told me one time that they took her to the airport, she was telling them a story while walking down the ramp away from them and when they picked her up a couple of weeks later, she continued with same story right where she had left off!

But this was about Stuart--one time he and Victor were over here visiting Grandma French & Pop and Anna May and my folks took them to a wrestling match. Of course all of the crowd was screaming and hollering and Stuart cupped his hands together and said "boo."

The summer before I turned 16, Victor & Peggy had come over to see Herb and Chris, who were both in the service then--probably about to ship out. I think Chris was stationed at Fort Lewis and Herb was stationed at Fort Lawton, a used-to-be fort in Seattle. 

At that time there was a big amusement park in the north end of Seattle, called Playland. We all went to the park and Herb & Chris somehow convinced their dad, Victor, to go on the roller coaster with me. They had fooled him into thinking they were going to go on as well, but were waiting for us when we got off. 

Being a smart-aleck teenager, I made sure we sat in the front & kept my arms up in the air for almost the entire ride.I believe that's the only time I ever heard Victor cuss. He would chuckle his trademark chuckle each time we went up a hill, but going down the other side, he would mutter "blank-blank s-o-b."I can still remember laughing until my sides hurt! And Herb & Chris, of course, had a good laugh because they had again put one over on their dad.

My trip to Portland last Friday was wonderful--the perfect day to drive; the sky was blue, the sun was shining and the trees were spectacular in their beautiful spring garb. Many of the cherries, plums, etc. were in their colorful pinks, whites and yellows while most of the cottonwoods, maples, etc. were in their not-completely-leafed-out stage--they had green leaves, but their skeletons were still shining through. Just glorious!

I spent much of yesterday baking pies for the youth auction. This time I did 2 each of lemon meringue & cherry. I think next year I'll go back to the apple instead of the cherry. They're more work, but bring in more money. One of the cherry pies went for $15 and the other for $25, but the lemon went much better. The one in the silent auction sold for $95. The man who bought the one in the live auction told me that he had gone to bid on the silent auction pie, but he knew no matter what he bid, it would be topped because a very interested party was standing there watching. He decided he would get the one in the live auction instead--he did, but he paid $300! for it! 

, Trust me, the kitchen didn't look like this when I finished the pies yesterday! I don't remember how that happened w/that cake, but it was sure a mess!

Well, I seem to have figured out how to get the pix where I want them, but don't know how to wrap text, but that is okay.

I had lunch with a couple of my friends last week and we shared some stories about things that had happened when our children were growing up, so will put a couple of them here.

Maybe it was because Vic was the oldest, but he never wanted to take "no" for an answer. He was about 4 or 5 when the kids and I were in the car and he wanted to do something that I said no to. Several times he asked, "why?" and I gave him the stock answers, "no," "because I said no," "because I'm the mom," but he continued to ask why. Finally Timm said, "'cuz she's an 'icked, old 'itch, that's eye!" Not only did Vic not get what he wanted, but that became my stock answer for a lot of things in the years after.

It hasn't always been against the law or particularly dangerous in small communities to leave the kids in the car while running in to get a few things at the grocery store. One day, when Mark was about 18 months old, I did just that thing. When I got back to the car, he had a bunch of bananas that his older brothers had convinced him to go in & get. We never did figure out how he got out of the store without any of us seeing him, but I went in and asked Barbara, the owner, to come out to the car & scold him. I knew she could really get angry, but she surprised me that time. When we got back to the car, Mark had peeled a banana about 1/2 way down, stuck it in his mouth and took his hands away. He looked so cute that there was really not much either of us could do, except laugh. Mark got away with shoplifting that time, but I don't think he ever  tried it again.

In one of my earlier posts, I mentioned Uncle Bill & Aunt Alta whom I met met when they were in their 80's. I have a bowl and pitcher (not a set) that she gave me when I met her. The Thanksgiving that we lived by Maplewood School Grandma French was there for dinner with us. Bruce was 3 at the time and, as with many kids about that age, was extremely helpful. He wanted to help put things on the table so I gave him Aunt Alta's bowl, full of potatoes. But I cautioned him to be very careful because that was a very special bowl to me and I would cry if he broke it. Well, just as he was almost to the table, he slipped on a "drip" of water, his feet went out from under him, the bowl went up tin the air, turned upside down and landed on top of the spilled potatoes. The bowl got a small chip in it, but did not break. Thinking he had broken it, poor Bruce was absolutely hysterical. It took both Grandma and me several minutes to calm him down, and I learned right then that possessions are not nearly as important as someone's (especially a child's) feelings.

A similar thing happened to Kelli when she was 6. The rest of her birthday cake was in a beautiful Princess House domed cake saver and was right in the middle of the dining room table. No one was around so she decided to help herself and dropped the dome in the process. It broke right in half--no shards--and even though she wasn't supposed to be helping herself, I was just grateful that she hadn't hurt herself.

Actually, it's a wonder she didn't hurt herself more often than she did when she was little because she was such a climber. I used to keep lunch goodies in the cupboard above the hot water heater. She would get a chair, climb up on the counter, then to the top of the refrigerator and reach around the end of cabinet and get the goodies out.

Blair was the one who was the most accident prone--and still may be. I think I already mentioned that he broke his leg before he was 2 and wore out several casts before the doctor would finally agree to putting a walking cast on it. One time he had been running down the street when a neighbor boy came in & told me Blair had a car in his foot!. I looked out the window and there he was lying on the street with a car stopped beside him. I think it took me about 3 steps to get down to the corner! When I got there, I found that an axle from a plastic car, with one wheel missing, had stuck through his tennis shoe and into his foot when he stepped on it while running; I pulled it out, took him to the doctor for stitches and antibiotics & then I got sick to my stomach.

It's almost 10:30 & I still have some things that I promised myself I would get done before going to bed, so guess I better scoot away.

I don't know when this picture of the Stobie family was taken, but it's obvious that they're all adults. That's Victor & Ruth on the love seat; behind them (l to r) Chris, Victo, Peg & Herb.

Mother was 8 when Victo was born and she remembered being out at the Ranch several times as Victo & Herb were small--old enough to be outside w/o adults, but not old enough to go off by themselves.

One time as Mother, Anna May, Victo &  Herb were playing in the haymow, Herb got closer than planned to the edge of the hole where the hay is thrown down for the stock, as he slipped through, Victo said, "there he goes." Fortunately there was enough hay below to give him a soft landing.

Another time when Herb was a toddler &  they were all playing in the barn, he told everyone to be quiet because "he thought he heard a 'hougar'."

Those are about the only 2 stories I remember hearing about them as kids, because the French family moved to Washington when Mother was 12 .

I had almost forgotten, but Victor was a very small baby, evidently a preemie; as he only weighed about 3 pounds. Grandma Stobie lined a cigar box with cotton and kept him very close to the wood stove, sometimes he would sleep on the oven door.

A sad part of their lives was that Ruth was schizophrenic and had to spend much of her life in a mental hospital. The kids were all grown before there was medicine available so she could live a normal life. One of the things I always admired about Victor was that he kept the family together and that even though many friends (and even some family members) encouraged him to divorce her,  he still loved her and stayed married to her.

Ruth and Fern were sisters. Now I know this is taking a little detour, but their last name was Aemissiger (I think that's spelled correctly) and their parents both died leaving several children behind. I remember, Ruth & Fern, of course, and they had a brother John, a brother Nick and a sister Martha. There may have been more (Robin, if you read this, please let me know). I don't know how they ranged in age, but Fern was about 12 at the time. Grandma & Pop, by this time, had their three children, but agreed to take Fern as a foster child until someone wanted to adopt her. They never legally adopted her, but she was part of the family from then until she died several years ago.

Once when Grandma was here, I was having a rather hectic time with the kids. Grandma told me to enjoy them, they'll be gone too soon. I never vocalized it, but my thought was that how could she know what I was going through, she only had 3 children, plus an older girl to help with them! Little did I know that she was right--they did grow up too fast, as are my grandchildren doing now. The other thing is that taking on a mourning, orphaned girl just as she's about to go into puberty must not have always been fun.;<) They surely loved each other as much as any mother & daughter can. She was also well loved by Pop, Anna May & Mother. I'm sure the same was true of her and Jim, but of course I barely remember him. I do remember reading somewhere, though that she came and stayed with Pop & Grandma for awhile after learning of Jim's death.

 In the first picture Fern would have been about 14 & Mother about 2, sitting on the porch with Granddad. The 2nd picture of her would have been taken some time in the 1990's after her husband, Kirwin had passed away and she was living in Washington State to be closer to her daughter, Sue and her husband, Paul.

Okay, by know you know that the pictures didn't load in exactly as I'd planned, but it's after 10:30; I got up at 4:45 this morning and am driving to Portland and back by myself tomorrow, so I'm not going to spend time trying to rearrange them--nor am I going to tell you any more stories tonight--I'm going to be "hitting the hay" very soon! A fun thing, though, is that I will be having lunch with my friend Brenda Corrie, who is on our Relay for Life team. Her daughter, Teresa, goes to our church and is also on the team. Brenda is a survivor and has actually been on the team longer than I have and we've gotten to be friends so I'm looking forward to seeing her tomorrow!

My technical capabilities are getting downright scary! The PowerPoint is ready to go--okay, okay, Stan burned the disc, I didn't, and he got the pictures like I wanted them--I still don't know how, but I did compose the messages and tonight I even learned how to kinda, sorta use PhotoShop! What's next??!! Told you it was scary! 

The picture on top is, of course, Mother, Daddy, Joe, Audrey & me taken at the back entrance of Pop & Grandma's apartment building. Anna May also had an apartment in the same building. That sure wasn't a good picture of Daddy and I don't remember Mother ever being that thin.

I wish I could find the picture showing the front of the car shown in the second picture; Mother's face was imprinted in the front fender, driver's side. I had spent the night at Grandma & Pop's and they were on the way to get me; Joe and Audrey were both sleeping in the back seat. Most of you know where the curved bridge between N. Puyallup & Fife is; the curve used to be much sharper, but the curve itself wasn't the cause of the wreck. Just before they got to the bridge, something went wrong with the car and Daddy pulled off to the side of the road. I don't have any idea what was wrong with the car, but Daddy dropped something on the ground while trying to get it running again. He had Mother stand in front of the car and hold her coat out to the sides so the light would be reflected to the ground. A drunk driver followed their taillights off the road and Mother was dragged 90' across the pavement. All the muscles in her back were torn and the doctors at that time didn't know how to repair them so her entire torso was mostly wrapped and taped. She spent the rest of her life in constant pain.

Kind of a funny side note, now, but wasn't then. That was back in the days when almost no one had medical insurance and doctor & hospital bills weren't nearly as high then as they are now. After getting out of the hospital, Mother wrote a check and somehow made a mistake on the amount. She subsequently received a letter stating that she nor none of her family would be welcomed at that hospital until that dollar had been paid.

A few days ago I wrote about Pop & Grandma living in Montana, Tacoma, Montana, Tacoma,

Sumner, but I don't think I mentioned they lived in Ellensburg from approximately 1930 until 1940; don't know the exact dates or why they moved there, but Pop was a policeman in Ellensburg; that's the only time he was in law enforcement; don't know how or why he was on the force.

Grandma had cancer while they lived there. The doctor told her she would live 6 months if she didn't have surgery and 3 years if she had it. Well, she had the surgery and had to go back & forth to Yakima for radiation treatments. This was sometime in the early '30's and she lived until January 1973.

One day when Timm was about 10 she told him she wasn't worth shooting. He told her that if she tried, she could live until she was 80. Sure enough she died 2 weeks after her 80th birthday; she always said that attitude was the most important part of your personality.

The last 3 days have been absolutely gorgeous! We're supposed to have another 70ish degree day tomorrow & then Wednesday it will be back in the 50's and raining--what a strange spring we've had--but the trees are all blossoming and leafing out!! What a wonderful sight!!

that's it for tonight...

The Dennis cartoon in this morning's paper reminded me of a similar situation when Vic was about 4. I have no idea how it happened that he was able to make the mess he did while I was still sleeping. He had decided to fix breakfast in bed for me & I'm just glad he couldn't reach the knobs to turn the stove on. He was making pancakes; mixed flour & milk in a big bowl; had the griddle on the stove, completely covered with his "pancake mix." He had also managed to have quite a bit of flour scattered around the kitchen. You can't get mad when you've got someone fixing your breakfast while you're sleeping in; just clean up the mess & go on with the day. Vic was probably about 3 when this picture was taken.

Most of you know that Jackie's mother, Shelby, died when Nicole was a baby; she was a wonderful person & friend, but she made berry pies without sugar and that's the way Jackie likes them! Saturday as I was making pies to take to Blair & Jackies's for dinner, I thought Jackie is going to think I emptied my sugar canister into the berry pie filling. Not the case--it was extremely sour! After Gene, Jackie's dad, told about Blair eating his first piece of pie at their house, and he couldn't spit it out because he & Jackie weren't married yet so he had to be on good behavior, Blair surprised me by eating a piece of the pie I had made. Gene took just a bite of it and thanked me for giving him a "Shelby memory."

We also laughed about the time I had been asked to feed Blair & Jackie's dog when they were at the hospital with Michael who was a very sick baby at the time. You think I'm computer illiterate now--I was totally illiterate then! I knew how to use the keypad to get into the garage, but as far as I knew, "enter" meant to go in, which I did. Well, when it was time to go out, I couldn't find a word for "leave" or "go out" or anything similar. I spent several minutes trying to step over the electric eye. Finally I called Stan & asked him what to do. I had no more than hung up the phone when I said, "damn," "enter" means to put in data. Well, it was too late--Stan had told me he didn't know, but would call Blair. Blair, Jackie, Gene & Kathi were all at the hospital, so you know they had a good laugh! I was just grateful that none of their neighbor's had a camcorder pointed in my direction!

Timm didn't start talking until he was about 2 1/2 and Uncle Steve used to tease him about it every time we were together. He said things like, "Timm, you talk too much," and of course Timm didn't talk at all. One day, however he'd decided it was time, so when Uncle Steve made his usual remark, Timm looked up at him and said: "Unco teeb, you puwwing my weg." That's as close as I can translate.

Once he started talking, Timm's always been pretty quick with a quip. One day when he was about 3, he was very angry about something while I was buttoning his shirt--yes, little boys really did wear button shirts, not t-shirts all the time. After I finished with his shirt, he stepped back 2 or 3 steps, enough to make sure he was out of arm's reach and said: "God's going to go potty on you!"  He also took off as fast as his little legs would take him! The pic of Timm was taken about that time.

BTW Nicole is a good teacher--she had my PowerPoint ready for me to finish in about 2 1/2 minutes.

I can't think of any "historical" facts to share this time so will close for now.

    

This blog has caused me to think about things that I had not thought about in years--I would have thought they were forgotten, but as I start to write about one thing, half a dozen others come to mind. One of the memories is of the old popcorn and fresh-roasted peanut vendors who lined Puyallup Avenue in Tacoma when I was growing up. The taste of those peanuts has been "haunting" me for the last several days. I've never had them any place else. I mentioned that to Stan today and he has a horrible memory of those vendors. A large airplane had crashed into several houses north of Boeing field and he remembers the vendors there while the gruesome mess was being cleaned up. Awful memory, but I still wish I knew where to find peanuts like those.

I'm getting so "21st century," it's almost scary. Within the past couple of weeks I've joined Facebook, started this blog and am working on a PowerPoint presentation. Fortunately Nicole will be stopping by tomorrow morning to help me with that. I have to have it ready for a breakfast meeting next Wednesday, so hope she's a good teacher--

I think I'm not the fastest learner.

My dad had 2 older sisters, Vivian & Aurel and 2 brothers, one older, Beryl, and one younger, Halford, than him. They grew up in Dixie, WA, a little "spot on the road" east of Walla Walla. His dad was a wheat farmer--I wonder if they leased the land up Dry Creek or if the Kellys owned it. 

Many of his aunts, uncles and cousins also lived in Dixie. My "somehow removed" cousin Pat has done a very extensive genealogy of the Kelly family. His dad, Glenn Kelly, was my dad's first cousin.

Pat has been all over the U.S. researching in libraries, cemeteries, colleges and any place else he could think of that he might dig up a little information on the Kelly family. Thanks to Pat we have all of that information on disc. Now if I just knew someone who had researched Pop's family and Grandma (Warren) Kelly's family, I could put it all together. Kyle & I were going to start learning how to do genealogy, but then they moved to Sandpoint & I've never done much more than "I wish..."

Grandpa Kelly had a mustache most of his life. One time when Daddy was a young teenager, they went to town together and were to meet at a certain place at a certain time. Daddy was there on time, but couldn't figure out why his dad wasn't. Finally the man sitting next to him at the counter spoke to him and Daddy recognized his father's voice--Grandpa had been to the barber & had his mustache shaved off!

Daddy & his brother were playing hide and seek one time when they were kids & Daddy went into another room to hide. He decided to peek through the keyhole to see if Halford was coming after him, just at the same time that Halford stuck a rod through the same keyhole, poking my dad in the eye & causing him to lose almost all of his sight in that eye. They all remained friends, though, until separated by death. 

I only remember seeing Grandpa once when I was about 5 and he died of a heart attack shortly after that. Grandma Kelly died of breast cancer in June of 1959. I was unable to go to her funeral, however, as I was busy having a baby, Timm.

Stan & I were recently over that way to watch Jessica and her fellow basketball team members win the Oregon State AA basketball championship and while driving from Walla Walla to Pendleton, we remembered how much Daddy liked to go for drives up there. Even though we didn't go through Dixie, it still reminded us very much of him.

As you can see, I still am not totally in the 21st tech century! I still can't figure out how to get my pix where I want them w/wraparound text.I had them at the side of the blog, instead of at the top, but couldn't get things straightened out so I'll try to let you know who's who. Was going to load in some more pix, but that would cause this post to be at least 3 1/2' long! so they'll wait for another time

The wedding picture is Grandpa & Grandma Kelly; both pictures w/kids were taken before Halford was born, so in one Grandma is holding Aurel, Vivian is standing between her & Grandpa Kelly, holding Daddy (Archie Wilber), with Beryl standing. The other picture of kids is the same group: Aurel, /Wilber, Beryl & Vivian. There's a picture of Grandma Kelly holding Vic in 1958 and Daddy & his siblings at his & Mother's 50th anniversary party--Halford, Aurel, Daddy & Beryl. Vivian died from cancer in 1948 so she's only shown in early pictures. 

 Grandpa Kelly's name was Arch, so Daddy was called Wilber by his family; Mother & her family and most of their friends called him Kelly, and he usually went by Archie at work--I don't believe he had a split personality, however.

  This picture was taken of Vic & Peggy in their kitchen last Thanksgiving. You probably know that she is undergoing treatment to clear up an infection so she can have a bone marrow transplant; it's scheduled for May 4 and our prayer is that her next test on the 23rd will show that she's on schedule to have the transplant. The wait-and-see game is not always easy and we hope it goes quickly. I know she's having a hard time just relaxing and reading, but that's what the doctor has told her to do. Keep her in your thoughts during this time.

Sometime after WWII Pop & Grandma moved back over to Montana and built a cabin on Thompson River not quite as

 far out as the Ranch. Joe, Audrey & I went over & spent some time each summer they were there. Elsie was also there part of the time. When we were over there a couple of years ago, we met the grandson, wife and daughter of the people who purchased the cabin from them when they returned to Washington. Wish I had a better time-line, but I don't remember exactly when it was. Had to have been in 1951 or 1952; they came back here for Pop to have better treatment for his diabetes. While over there he worked as a sawyer in a sawmill.

One morning when we were staying with them, Grandma woke us up to see a moose out by the outhouse--it was the first time we'd ever seen one. A few mornings later Audrey woke the household up to see another moose--this time, however, it was somebody's milk cow! That's a picture of Pop, Audrey & me sitting on a pile of logs close to the cabin. The other picture is of Pop & Joe taken at the Ranch. Obviously it was taken sometime later than the one of Pop, Audrey & me.

Somewhere I have a picture, but can't lay my mouse on it right now, of Joe, Audrey & me sitting on a log in the river. that's where we taught ourselves to swim and I never learned to do more than dog paddle. It's amazing how much freedom we had over there--we could go to the river and swim or fish by ourselves--needed to be sure there were at least 2 of us at a time. We also walked for hours--well, it seemed like hours--up in the hills.

Grandma & her brother, Victor, were both great story tellers. Grandma's were usually about a bear 

named RaggyLugs--that's my RaggyLugs that I'm reading to in the picture. Grandma's stories usually had a moral to them; I think she must have been a fan of Aesop. She told me once about Raggy getting in trouble when he ran ahead of the adults at the park. I guess I didn't pay too much attention because I ran ahead of Anna May & her friend,Grace, one time and didn't hear (or at least didn't heed) when Anna May called to me. She was trying to keep me from going down the slide that the sun had been shining on for hours. I should have listened!! Instead I "scorched my buns" and had to lie on my stomach for several days--it took a long time for those blisters to heal!

I think some of the stories Victor told were just so he could hear himself chuckle, and the Stobie men all had a wonderful chuckle--wish I could laugh like that or even make the sound occasionally.

One time Audrey & I were going to walk through the "badlands." He warned us to be careful and not to walk into any skeletons hanging from trees--left from the long ago Indian wars. We were careful where we went & paid close attention to where we were. Well, the reason we had to be careful & watch our way was that that area is called the "badlands" because it all looks alike and it's very easy to get lost.

He also convinced his nieces, nephews, and probably his own children and grandchildren to watch for an animal called the side-hill gouger. It's easy to spot because the legs on one side of the body are shorter than on the other side--of course it can only go one way around the mountain!

that's it for this time

HAPPY EASTER

He is risen...indeed

I think it was in my last post that I mentioned my first time at Sunday School, but I forget to mention that I actually sang the words that Pop taught me while the rest of the people were singing the correct words!

Kyle told me he likes humorous stories in my blog, but I try to mix things up a bit--that way I can entertain, or bore, you in various ways.

 Granddad Stobie had been married once before he married the Grandma Stobie that was my Grandma's mother. I don't know what happened to his first wife, but Grandma French had a half-sister in Canada named Edith. They corresponded with each other until one of them died & I don't know which one was first. Mother also wrote to Edith's daughter, Mary Stewart--no, not the author--for many years.

I don't know much about Pop's side of the family as he left home when he was a teenager. I do know his parents were Samuel and Emma, both from Ohio, and Samuel's occupation was listed in the census in the mid 1800's as farmer. Pop grew up in Poneto,  a small town in Indiana and after leaving around 1900, never went back until 1957; by then both of his parents were dead, but he did have an uncle and aunt still alive, Uncle Bill & Aunt Alta.

The picture shows Pop in his early 70's, Uncle Bill was in his 80's, Mother was in her late 30's, I was 18 and Vic was a couple of months. This was when we lived in Illinois and Pop & Grandma had come back to visit us and we all went down to visit Pop's hometown. Don't know why I don't have a picture showing Grandma & Aunt Alta as well.

Pop was an extremely strong man. In fact, I believe that Pop, my Dad and Mark were (are) as strong as anyone else I've ever known. Now the reason for telling that is we had all heard over and over and over again about the rock that all of Pop's friends had tried to lift when he was a boy. Finally he was the only one he knew that could lift it, so he picked it up and carried about a block before setting it back down. When we got to Poneto, he was sure to show us his rock. As I recall it was kinda cube shaped, probably 14-16" sides and very dense black granite. He was so dejected when Grandma saw it, and asked a rather disparaging question about it being no bigger than it was. Now, you must remember that's been several years ago, so I could be way off on the size of it. About the time he was showing off his rock, he spotted 2 men he had gone to school with. The three of them stood there for quite awhile with tears streaming down their cheeks. The other two attested to the fact that Pop was the only one they knew who could lift the rock & it was still in the place he had left it.

Pop's brothers were named Verne & Earl. One of them became the superintendent of schools for either N. or S. Dakota. I don't know what happened to the other one--I was told he didn't amount to much, but what does that mean? haven't a clue.

During coffee fellowship after Church this morning as my pastor & I were eating strawberries, he told me that when he was a kid, his grandpa had a big strawberry patch. I told him about Pop making sure his strawberry customers always got the best berries and Gary said it's hard to find integrity like that any more. So then I told him the kind of integrity Pop had. He and a couple of partners owned a sawmill in Montana when Anna May, Mother & Jim were little. One of the big lumber giants came in and virtually "squeezed"  a lot of the little guys out. Pop's partners both declared bankruptcy, but he refused to. He believed that his creditors had given him credit in good faith & he would pay them back. I don't know how long it took him, but he paid back every dime. Gary remarked that your really don't see that kind of integrity any more. My response to him was that I'm mostly honest and I come by that honestly.

Another old family story is that Revolutionary War General Hugh Mercer was a relative of the French family (Pop's family). During the Revolutionary War, Gen. Mercer performed a very courageous act by pulling some of the American troops out of harm's way and doctoring them under a tree. To the best of my knowledge the Mercer tree is still standing and we saw it when Bruce was going to seminary in Princeton, New Jersey. Anyway, the Congressional Medal of Honor had not been established as there was no Congress so Gen. Mercer was awarded 1 sq. mile of Manhattan Island for $1. per year, in perpetuity. Now as the story goes, it is the square mile upon which stands Rockefeller Center. A couple of Rockefeller's lawyers allegedly went to Pop's grandma's house when the lease was due to be signed. All of the men were away and at that time most women, including his Grandma, were unable to read. The lawyers had her sign on the line giving up her interest instead of renewing the lease. As of 20 years ago this was supposedly still in the courts, but I've never seen any evidence of it.

An interesting side note, though, is that Anna May had a friend named Leroy Mercer, who was also descended from Gen. Mercer's family and he and Anna May commiserated occasionally on how their fortune had been stolen from them. That's a picture of me in front of the sign at Rockefeller Center when we went to Manhattan while visiting Bruce & Janet in Princeton. (That picture should have been the 2nd one, but I don't know how to edit them around once I've posted them.) 

That's it for today-unless, of course, I think of something else that I want to say.

The book from Ed Hume got here today, so hope I hear from Ciscoe soon. Just a couple of "garden" stories. There's a weed that has little yellow blossoms on top of a plant w/leaves much like that of carrots (probably should know the name of it, but can't remember right offhand). Anyway when Audrey was about 4, she was helping Mother pull weeds; she managed to pull up almost all of the carrot starts, but left all of those weeds that were in the carrot row.

When Grandma & Pop lived in the house where we grew up (they moved in when we moved to Illinois & stayed until Pop died), they always had a big strawberry patch. Pop was very particular about the looks of the berries he sold--Grandma got the "nubbins" for jam. Whenever Grandma picked the strawberries, she always carried a big nail and stabbed any snails she came across.

The couple of years that Pop was alive after Vic was old enough to eat car

rots, Pop made sure the first row in his garden was carrots so Vic could pull & eat his own. 

Here's a picture showing just part of the results of Anna May's "green thumb" in her later years and this is just a small sampling of the many wonderful gardens, both flower & vegetable, that she had through the years.

Last night I mentioned that we had been to Church, but we didn't go to Church until I was about 11 when one of the churches in town started sending a bus out to pick up kids around Sumner. Anyway the first time I remember ever going to Sunday School I was about 6 or 7 and had been invited by someone from the Free Methodist Church--was only invited once. The Free Methodist Church is a pretty fundamentalist denomination and Pop was aware of that--he helped me prepare by teaching me a song.

You've probably all heard, and maybe even sung, the chorus: Hallelujah, Thine the glory; Hallelujah, Amen; Hallelujah, Thine the glory; revive us again. Pop taught me his version: Hallelujah, I'm a bum; Hallelujah, amen; Hallelujah, give me a handout to revive me again.

Another thing that happened that morning was that when the teacher asked us to sing "Jesus Loves Me," I told her I didn't need to--I'd already sung it.

Like Mother, like son. When Mark was in kindergarten the teacher wanted the class to practice for the Christmas program and Mark told her he didn't want to--he'd already done it once.

The other picture is Pop & me at about the time of my Sunday School intro. I don't know if you can see that I was wearing glasses, but I've worn them since I had the measles when I was three.

I think that's it for tonight.