Thursday, February 26, 2009

Friday Open, One Day Early For Ferdy!

Happy Birthday, gal!
I hope your day is filled with warmth, love, and happiness.
Watch the comments that begin to accrue here, Ferd.
Feel the love?

So, where we goin' to eat?

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Received Today, From Barb-

Hello Dear Family and Friends,

The day before Bob's dad died, one of our ministers, Tony Gonzales, came in and said all the rights things and then prayed with us. Bob and I were at peace and very calm when the end was near. Dave was driving a car and in ok shape until a bout of pneumonia in early December. Another pneumonia in the second week of February, was devastating, and eventually fatal to Dave. He was 84 years old.

Two days before Gordon Davidson died, Feb. 16th, I worked out at the gym, and planned to go by Univ. Heights Conval. Ctr. and check on him real quick and then shower at home. But, he was more lucid than I had seem him in a week. He wanted to sit up! We sat up a while and he wanted his walker....he wanted to go home....he wanted to know the room number he was in...I thought he had rallied again! I took him on his first wheel chair ride around the convalescent home. I went very slow, and if he turned his head to look at anything or anyone, I stopped, and when he looked forward we kept going. He was interested in everything, fish tank, beauty shop, the logistics of the place. A dushound, brown, little floppy ears and ever moving short legs and tail, visited rooms, as he and his owner came toward us in the hall. We stopped to watch this happy little dog make his was toward us....a smile was on Dave's face that I had not seen in a while.

A guy coming at us, also in a wheel chair, had a shirt on that said, "ARMY". I stopped as Dave turned his head and made eye contact. I thought they would talk, but both straightened up their backs and tilted their heads at each other. Dave looked straight ahead, the other guy did too, we were off again. I was with him about 2 hours...so nice. I left at 1:30 PM and Bob got there at 3:30 PM. In that short period of time Bob's dad lost his ability to be understood, he only mumbled. He eventually got much worse and died at 2:30 AM Feb. 18th.

Planning a funeral in one day is much like planning a wedding in one day, the mortuary, flowers, music, minister, call all the people, pick out clothes for the deceased, pick out clothes for yourself, get hair cut, shine shoes, food for showing and food for meal after funeral, military burial, honor guard, my daughter-in-laws father to play taps on his trumpet, and newspaper announcements. All of the same components. I talked on the phone continuously for a whole day and Bob did too. This, of course would be so much more complicated if you lived out of state.

Everything went real well. We should have contacted more people, so little time.......The day of the funeral, Feb 21, 2009, was a near blizzard condition. A wet heavy snow and fierce wind was so cold. As we followed the Hurst to the burial sight, the snow stopped and wind died down. Our ministers message, the words spoken by the grey haired military honor guards, the guns firing, the playing of taps....so perfect to honor this man who was a proud Marine.....in the first wave of Marines at Guadalcanal....terribly wounded in the left side of his head by his ear at the battle of Palielu in the Palau Islands....lived only because his fellow Marine. Art Simpson, (later friend for life and neighbor), evacuated him under fire....thought to be dead until the medics tried to take off his Marine ring, he fought them, the ring did not come off....... His purple heart, stored in a battered black box in the drawer of the table by his bed, was in the casket.

So many people, friends, relatives, Bob's classmates from Center Grove High School, our neighbors, friends from church came to the funeral home. What a comfort the many hugs and kind words were to us. We are now getting e-mails, calls and cards from friends with their condolences. All of this "love" sits in our hearts and gives us peace.

About six months ago, I warned Dave that I wanted to talk about his military service. He said, "Why talk about that, that is the past". He acted like he was tasting a bitter pill as I talked to him twice about his Marine days. I told him I wanted his grandchildren to know what he did for our country. He would never talk about it. The story begins with his coming out of a movie theatre in Indpls and hearing Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. Dave was 17 1/2 years old. He was a Marine by January 1, 1942. His mom had to sign for him to join. Just after his 20th birthday, he was wounded at Pelieu. Two typewritten pages, newspaper clippings and a letter from a Sergeant from the hospital during his treatment for his wounds September 15, 1944, contain all the facts for Gordon Davidson Jr's heroic service to our country.

We are at peace, tired.... like we ran a race. This is, as my dad said, "The flow of life". Bob is sleeping a lot today, taking it easy. Only church this morning and taking some flowers to my mom and saying goodbye to my brother as he returns to Rockford, Illinois today. Bob retires from Allison in 3 days...the timing of all of this, God's timing is as always.....perfect. We are going to be all right, keep us in your prayers as you are in ours.

Peace and Love, Barb

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Thoughts On Gordon Davidson

I had come to realize it was a mistake.
I HAD to be back at Ft. Knox in the evening, yet Dad and I had decided to rebuild the carburetor on my car. Simple process... take the thing apart, removing the parts to be replaced, and put it together with the new parts.
Done.
But it didn't work out that way. One of the parts for the accelerator pump refused to cooperate. We tried the easy way.
We tried the hard way.
We tried replacing it while standing on one leg, holding our tongue over the left rear molar.
We worked on that stupid thing while I watched the clock, realizing until the carburetor was whole I had no wheels to get back to my post and not be A.W.O.L.
We worked for hours on that one stupid part, to no avail.
Dad said, "Let's go see Dave."

"Dave" was Hawkeye's Dad, Gordon Davidson. (His Mother was "Mike"!)
Dave was a quiet guy, truly a man of few words. When he was insanely happy you might see the corners of his mouth curl. But he was a perfectionist. Everything Dave did was an example of excellence. If anyone could put this carburetor together and keep me out of trouble, it was Dave.
And of course, in no time at all, I had a complete carburetor. Dave looked at the part a second, made a couple zip-zip moves, and it was done.
How do you put a price on that?

There were three houses separating me and Hawkeye. I spent the night at his house a lot. He reciprocated. We shared houses, garages, and parents. I'll miss his Dad.

Bye Dave.
On more occasions than I can recount here, you made my life better.
I'm glad I got the chance to tell you that.

His obituary is here.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Elegant Senior Living


That's what they call it...
"Elegant Senior Living".
Grand piano in the huge foyer with sitting chairs and two fireplaces on opposite ends. Library, billiard room, an indoor heated pool, and a full-time in-house activity director planning events so those that want can go out to eat or to shows in Pensacola. In the photo above, that smiling face you see at the far left, second row... that's my Mom. If you want, go
here for a photo tour of the place. (Mom is also in the pool photo.)

Dad died in 2003, so she has now been there... goin' on five years, right Mom? We moved her into "The Veranda" when it was new, just in time for her to be entertained by Hurricane Ivan's fury! The building survived just fine, but she was without electricity, walking the halls at night with a flashlight and no air conditioning for a couple weeks.
Obviously, it's a very nice place to live with lots to do.

A couple nights ago, Mom was awakened in the wee hours by an odd sound. She's been feeding a stray cat outside her patio and initially thought it was that stray trying to threaten her cat Sam. But the more she listened, the more she realized it wasn't a cat. When she got up to investigate she found it was a woman who had just moved in down the hall from her, sitting on the floor outside her apartment, wailing.
When Mom approached her she said, "She's in there!"
Mom opened the door to the woman's apartment and found it empty, but there was broken glass all over the floor. The poor old gal was being threatened by visions. At that hour Mom had to call several emergency numbers to get a real, live human being to come help, but finally a male nurse showed up and with Mom's help, got things cleaned up and under control.

Lots of folks would have simply turned over in bed and said "I don't want to get involved in this."
Positive vibes, Mom... ya done good!
I'm proud of you.

Now, it's Friday Forum time.
Are you coming to "The Log Inn" to meet the rest of us? I hope so.


Got news to share?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Gordon Davidson, 1924-2009

Cinders called earlier with sad news...
Hawkeye's Dad died today.
A decorated Marine WWII Veteran, he was part of our Valley "family", and my memories of "Dave" while I was growing up are a comfort to me.

Bob and Barb, we love you, and I will be in touch tomorrow.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Hoosier Hospitality

I knew it.
You knew it.
But it's nice to have Ann Althouse verify our suspicions.

I Swear...It Only Happened ONCE!

It was the summer of 1981. I hadn't seen most of my old classmates since graduation in 1971. Hopefully, most of my old classmates were coming. My husband and I were going with one of my high-school buddies and her husband. I had put on 30 pounds from my 98-pound low in high school, and of course I heard the expected, "My God...you've changed" more than once. But I wasn't the only one that had changed.

They first served us dinner, but I was so excited to see everyone that I couldn't eat much. After dinner, I ordered a gin Tom Collins. It tasted horrible--like pure alcohol. But I needed something in my hand to carry around in order to appear nonchalant. So I kept sipping. Halfway through, I could no longer taste. Right about then, someone told me the drinks were being made "triple-strength", but by then I no longer cared.

Mr. and Mrs. Vandermeer were there, and neither one had changed a bit. I think he might have been retired by then. After that first drink and no food to absorb it, I was starting to act a little silly. I remember going up to Mr. V, patting him on top of his bald head and saying, "You're a dear, sweet man"!

Another drink or so later, we hit the dance floor. While dancing, I was trying to introduce my husband to a classmate's husband who was from Elnora. Not only was I having trouble remembering my friend's husband's name, I couldn't remember my husband's name! But I could remember what towns they were both from. What I meant to say to both the men was, "Jim, meet Leroy", but since I couldn't remember either name and I was having trouble speaking what came out of my mouth was, "Elnora, eat Loogootee"!!!

After 3-1/2 drinks, I was finished. I told Leroy I needed some fresh air. He knew what was coming, but I didn't. He helped me out of the building and we sat on the porch. I can remember classmates coming up to talk to me and being amazed that I was drunk. After a few minutes, I told Leroy I needed to walk.

As we were walking in the parking lot, I proceeded to lose those 3-1/2 drinks and the couple pieces of shrimp I had for supper. We walked on to the car, but by then I had forgotten that I had just "ralphed" all over the parking lot. Leroy leaned me up against the car, and then I asked, "Leroy, did I just throw up?" He confirmed that I did. Then I said, "I thought so...my ankles are wet!"

I was sick for three days. I have not been drunk since then--I like to learn my lessons earlier than most. We had a 20th class reunion, but it was depressing--full of old people. We might have also had a 25th, but I wasn't able to go. I haven't heard of any since then.

I just did the math...is it really possible I've been out of school for over 37 years?

The Log Inn, Haubstadt, Indiana


The Log Inn-
Officially recognized as the oldest restaurant in Indiana. the Log Inn was built in 1825 and has been in continuous business since. In 1999, The Log Inn was recognized by the Indiana Association of Cities and Towns as being at the top of the list of Indiana's Favorite Hometown Restaurants. Once a stop on the stage coach route between Evansville and Vincennes, the Log Inn was visited by Abraham Lincoln in 1844 on his way home from a campaign tour in Evansville. Oil paintings, antiques, and original relics of this early period are displayed throughout the restaurant. Located one mile east of US Hwy 41 on Old State Road in Warrenton, today the Log Inn is widely known for its rustic charm and family-style dinners.
More info here, and here.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Ain't Skeered. (Much.)


Superstitious?
Will you change your behavior today? If so, in what way? I love scary movies and I'm amused by Halloween or the idea that bad things happen on Friday the 13th, but I can't think of a thing I'll do differently to try to avoid "Bad luck" today.
TwoDogs and Tools were born on the 13th, so any birthday that falls on a Friday... is that a bad day for them? Hardly.
The unlucky 13th falls one day prior to the lucky 14th of February. What are you doin' special for your significant other this year?

We've had considerable rain here over the last few days. Flash flood warnings have been issued for low-lying areas. My mechanic at work lives behind a levee separating his home from Old Man river. He's already begun the process of moving valuable objects to higher ground.
(He's rebuilding an old classic biplane and has moved it three times in four years.)
We've also had warmer-than-normal weather the last week. I don't think we've had the furnace on for four days...
Makes for great cuddling at night!

Your turn now.
Make us think, laugh, or cry...
But DO share!

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Old Indy TV-

It's a PDF file, and a little unwieldy to access and read, but there's interesting stuff here about the early days of Channel 6 and Channel 4 programming, particularly programming to attract kids during the 50's, 60's, and early 70's.
If you have an interest, check it out and see if it brings back memories.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Friday- Cathy And Joe


A fond memory-
Joe R. (Class of '62?) was dating Cathy W.
Farm boy Joe was tough as nails and strong as Hercules. Nobody messed with Joe.

The whole school congregated in the gymnasium for one of those pre-game "school spirit" meetings. When the speechifyin' was done, someone played a few records for those wanting to dance. Mostly gals danced with gals. The sound of Toni Fisher's "The Big Hurt" filled the gym. Joe took Cathy by the hand, led her to the dance floor, and they proceeded to cha-cha. He smiled. She smiled.
And from that point on I knew even REAL MEN men could get out on the dance floor.
Thanks Joe.

I almost missed Friday this week. Would you have missed it if I had missed it?