Thirty Years and Counting

I'm repeating this post I wrote two years ago - right after I began blogging. I am making a few revisions and adding some pictures - I didn't do pictures at that time.


Today is the 30th anniversary of our move into this house of ours. It's nothing special; in fact, it's getting pretty used up! But it's ours - all ours. No bank involved any more.

I had driven over here almost every day to watch the progress and record it for posterity - and I think I hoped they'd do a better job if I checked up on them every day. I don't think that worked!

On that hot summer day, we were the first ones to invade this cul de sac. The next morning the first thing we noticed was the total lack of bird songs, having moved from an old neighborhood. The second thing we noticed was the very loud sound of an airplane buzzing overhead, very close to the roof of our house. Turns out that we were very close to a farm which was being sprayed by a crop duster. Believe me, there are no farms left anywhere near us now - just hundreds of houses and thousands of people! Kinda sad.

Eventually, all 13 houses were built and inhabited - the kids that moved in a couple at a time had a great time playing on the piles of dirt - and I remember watching every minute to be sure they didn't have too much fun and fall into a newly dug basement!

As the neighborhood grew up, we at one time had 32 children on the street - what a great time the kids had in the evenings, playing with the various daddies. There was one time period for a couple of years or more that every time one baby was born, another pregnancy was announced. It was great fun. We had block parties and everyone watched out for each other. I remember taking a hot loaf of home made bread every time someone moved in.

Alas, the fun didn't last and people began to seek out larger or fancier houses. Some of the houses turned into rentals and the yards didn't look so great any more. We are one of two original owners on the street.

Interestingly, two of the houses now have 3rd generation children of the originals. Kristen lives 3 doors down with our grandchildren. Two doors the other way, a couple has moved back in with the parents and have a child (the man of the house died suddenly at 50 of a heart attack since I originally wrote this - she still lives there with her son and his family). Who would have ever thought?

One of the good things about this longevity is that my very mobile family has always had a place to use as a "permanent address." One of my nieces who has lived in many overseas spots says that it is good to have a place that feels like "home" no matter where she has lived.

I have told DC many times I didn't want to ever move, because I wanted my grandkids to climb those trees that I worked so hard planting. And here that time has arrived. Legacy or Rut? What do you call it?

The next spring, when we first began to put in our yard, I became the landscape "expert," planting the trees and bushes. DC dug a six foot diameter hole. which was filled with water the next morning, as we had one of our frequent rain storms during that night, I had to get this tree in that day or it was going to die. There I was out there early in the morning, while the kids still slept, wearing fishing waders, trying to get this tree to stand up straight (at least 10 feet tall) while I tried to shovel the mud back into the hole. Keep in mind that we had just added a huge supply of "natural fertilizer", if you get my drift, the day before! I found out later that a neighbor was watching this whole fiasco from her window and getting a real bang out of it. Much of the time I was close to falling into that muck, because the waders got stuck and I couldn't move very easily. Oh, what a picture!

And now - as it looks today -- at least as much as I could catch - it is huge.

We had contracted with a nursery in town to create a plan for our yard, and we in turn would buy a percentage of the trees and bushes from them. We ended up buying almost everything from them, if I remember correctly. DC was very busy that spring with his job, so it fell upon me (a totally indoors kind of person), to plant the trees and bushes. I had two small children, but I would faithfully get out there every morning, dig 5-6 holes, and run to the nursery to pick up that many bare root bushes. It was an extremely wet spring that year and every time we'd prepare for a big project, the rain would come and make muck out of our dirt, also filling up any holes we had dug or trenches that had been prepared for the sprinkling system. I remember the day that we finally put in grass seed, trying to beat the coming rainstorm, thinking it would be great to have God give the pre-lawn its first good watering. Well, He sent a gully-washer, and every newly purchased seed ended up against the patio or around the newly-planted trees. We had a great crop of grass in totally inappropriate places! We tried again.

A few years later, DC's parents went back to Wisconsin to the old home place, in the woods up north. Unbelievably, they brought us home two trees for our growing yard. How those trees made the long trip without dying is a miracle in itself. One was a Blue Spruce, about 2 feet tall. It now stands at least 30 feet. What a great memory for my husband of his childhood at his grandma's place. The other one they brought was a maple of some variety.

Amazingly, the next spring, wild flowers and wild raspberries began to sprout around that maple tree - they had come out here from Wisconsin in the ball of dirt that surrounded the roots. They made it through that 1200 mile trip, through replanting, through winter, and came back to life in the spring. God puts amazing spunk into his plants! DC transplanted some, and especially the raspberries thrived. Some of them are in this large raspberry patch.

The little tree in front of the patch is an apple tree - Anakin planted a seed from his apple one day when he was about 4. It began to grow immediately, and two years later, DC transplanted it out of the flower garden. It is at least 8 feet tall now.

Just a few more shots taken today -- 30 years later. I just realized I've lived half my life in this house! Amazing, considered I lived in 23 apartments/houses during my first 30 years. This Austrian Pine was shorter than the fence when we planted it.

The Sequel

Friday was a good day. The time at work was enjoyable - the party with my family was wonderful. The flowers are more beautiful than when I got them. I got phone calls from Diane and from Judith. What nice surprises! Thank you all for your kind comments!


Recently somebody did a Show and Tell on her Willow Tree collection. I commented that I had purchased the nativity set this past Christmas and would love to have more of them. My wish came true when one of my gifts was the angel called "Celebration." I just love it.

I received so many lovely cards, and a nice Visa gift card from my colleagues at work. Dwight planned a nice party - everyone brought something. Sema's contribution was the cake - turns out she works with someone who used to work for the best bakery in our town, but now she free lances. She did such a great job! And it tasted as good as it looked - half was chocolate with raspberry filling and half was vanilla with lemon filling. Notice that she even made it look like pages on the edges.

In case you're having trouble reading the light blue script, it says, "Congratulations on your retirement! Enjoy your next chapters!" There is a ribbon "bookmark" dividing the pages that says "Book on Dawn's Retirement." Note the pages are numbered 1 and 2. The second page lists what I should do now. Chapter 1 - Relax, Time for Self. The little symbols before are an umbrella, sunglasses, and weights (Sema must have told her friend that I plan to get back to the gym more often). Chapter 2 - Travel ... A Lot. Below it says Europe, Canada, and has a little cruise ship. Chapter 3 - Enjoy Life - a happy face and a sunshine. So beautiful.

It's funny. I know that I don't have to set my alarm foe 5:00 (or any other time really!) tomorrow morning. Intellectually I know it. It hasn't sunk in yet, obviously. I was watching a really good movie - The Bucket List - have you seen it? My first thought was to ask my friend at work tomorrow if she's seen it!

Yesterday DC, Kev, Sema, and Kristen went rafting on the Poudre River. The river is really roiling this year - lots of run-off from the mountains. You won't catch me within 10 miles of such an adventure - but they love it. I spent the afternoon with the 4 little girls.

The last run was the most intense. One minute Kristen was in the raft, the next second she wasn't. She and the guy on the left both landed in the river. Thank the Lord she had rented a wet suit. Otherwise, her whole body would look like her banged up knuckles do. She has a deeply bruised leg, but she's going to be okay.

My women's/mother's intuition kicked in about 6:00. They'd been gone longer than I thought they should have been. I tried to call them on their cell phones, but no answers. Of course, they couldn't have phones in the raft, so that meant they still weren't on their way home yet. I was trying to keep my tension from the girls. Kristen and DC had ridden his motorcycle up to Kev and Sema's place, so that was another scenario I was concerned about.

I decided it was finally time to get the kids something to eat, so thought I'd take them out. Care Bear started crying, missing her mommy. I tried to convince her that crying wouldn't make things any better. I finally got her mind off the situation by asking her where they'd like to eat. She got back to her own cheerful self. Feisty turned to her and said, "Care Bear, how did you stop crying so fast?" She said, "Well, you just stop making noise, wipe the tears off your face, and you're okay!" Oh, the wisdom of a 5-year-old!

When we were eating at Wendy's, she saw a wasp outside the window. We began a discussion about wasps and how they were even worse than bees when they sting. She said, "Why in the world did God create bees and wasps? They're just BAD! . . . Oh, maybe it was that other guy who made them - Satan!" She just cracks me up - this led to a great discussion about Adam and Eve and how bad things entered the world because of them.

We were very relieved to finally get the phone call that they were on their way home, just a bit worse for the wear, but alive. Kristen saw her life flash before her - I am so thankful for God's care for them.

Have a great week!

Friday Show and Tell - Memories Are Made of This III

So - one more morning with Peter. We've covered a lot of ground. I think he'll be okay. I know I will. The walls are empty of anything except nails, the shelves are barren - and Peter doesn't know what he'll ever put on them. My little 10' by 10' home away from home is no longer mine. It took me 3 days to get everything home, and now it is all sitting in the middle of my living room floor. I have no clue where I am going to put all of this stuff. It is all so sentimental to me.

Between the missionaries who have come to our church and the faculty going overseas for their projects and my son traveling to Africa, I had three shelves full of lovely souvenirs. I wish I had labeled them all. The plate is from Guatemala. The little blue egg hanging up is from Russia, the little white pot is from Cancun. The little card has a zebra from Africa. The wooden hand with God is love, the star, and the nativity scene is from Israel. The dust is from not having time to get it off the shelves, and being too lazy to remove all the "stuff."

The blue and white cows are salt and pepper shakers from Poland. The wooden paddles are from Sweden. I can't read the words on the other side of the beautiful cup - I can't believe I didn't mark the bottom. I know it's from one of the emerging democracies in Eastern Europe.

The beautiful green jewelry box is from Korea. The little pottery saucer is from Romania. The heart-shaped box is a wedding favor from Peru. The little tray and the Eiffel Tower are, of course, from France. The miniature spoon is from Switzerland.

The wooden bowl and camel are from Morocco. The little colorful plate is from Germany. The wooden box is from Madagascar. The sand picture in the bottle is from Hawaii. The beautiful hummingbird blown glass was a gift from the person whose job I worked in my first of two long-term temp jobs before I got this position.

The bowl wall hanging and the small picture on the right are both from Mozambique, and are made from banana leaves, believe it or not. The pencil holder is from Swaziland. The egg holder is from Poland. The little nesting dolls are from Russia. The straw bag is from Hawaii, the cup is from Bulgaria, and the little red bag and the woven matt are from Saudi Arabia.

The people have made it worth getting up and going to work every day. The 870 students (give or take 50), have made it a constant challenge and have given me great enjoyment.

"Gentle Ben" hired me - green as could be. I didn't know what an MSW was, but I was pretty sure I could figure out and coordinate the program. I must have gotten that from my dad! Ben was so great to work for - he appreciated everything I did and made sure I knew it. He and his wife, Georgia, were a great team - they still come in often because they run an animal-assisted therapy program through the School of Social Work. She used to make the food for our retreats, and helped us decorate and serve the students for graduation. She was the ultimate hostess at our annual Christmas party (before we had to quit calling it Christmas, and had to become politically correct - after he retired). They have the most beautiful home and we felt so welcome there. DC never enjoyed his work social events, but he loved going to mine - the faculty and staff were so much fun.

Ben and Georgia took me out to lunch last week as a retirement celebration - we had such a good time.

Tip and I started the same day. When she left after ten years, it wasn't as much fun any more. She and I shared alot of "kid" issues, and she was my prayer partner the entire time. She still is, for that matter. She was technologically so far beyond me - I would always ask her how she knew how to do what she was doing - she said "you just have to play around and figure it out." I kept telling her it wasn't play for me, it was hard work. She was always amazed at my memory for details in my life. I had written my Christmas letter the first year we worked together, and I had her read it over for me. She said she wished she had time to write a Christmas letter. So I wrote one for her - she couldn't believe I could remember everything that had happened to her that year that she had shared with me. It was so funny. I don't think she ever got it sent out. We still keep in touch, and I hope I get to see her this summer.

"Karla with a K" was another character in our cast. She was our work study student for 4 years, and we hired her for an additional year after she graduated. She was in her early 30s when she came to school. She had the kind of wit about her that allowed her to say the most insulting things to people and they would not take it as an insult. They would laugh. If I had said the things she did, I would have been fired! She eventually went for her MSW at a different school - she said she couldn't stay here for her master's degree because she had bossed our faculty around for 5 years and she didn't think it would be a good idea to be in their classes. She told me that I was responsible for her getting into grad school elsewhere, because she listened to everything I griped about that applicants did, and did the opposite.

We have had two Bobs, Brad, Bruce, and Ben all at the same time. Big Bob rode his bike to work every day (as does Brad) with his pants legs rolled up to avoid getting caught in the chain. He'd forget to put it back down before going to class. Karla would remind him. He was a jazz musician. He told the greatest stories in his booming voice - we really missed him when he moved to another program.

The other Bob has been my closest colleague in the admission process. He is brilliant - has several master's degrees and his doctorate. He has the most amazing vocabulary. But he can't remember students' names to save his soul. I will miss Bob.

Victor - the gourmet cook. The consummate absent-minded professor. So gentle. His most oft uttered phrase is "Oh, well." He takes everything so calmly. I wish I were more like him. I will miss him.

Maria was one of the children sent over from Cuba in the 60s when Castro was threatening to remove the children of professionals from their homes to indoctrinate them in government schools. She and her brother were airlifted out of Cuba when she was four, with many other children, and landed in a convent school in Ohio. They eventually were reunited with their doctor father and attorney mother in Florida. I will miss Maria.

Joyce is the office manager and works with the undergraduate program. She is an extremely organized person. She has never thrown anything away. She has a very generous heart. She still has a bit of her Chicago accent after 30 years in Colorado. I will miss Joyce.

There are many others, but I don't have time to write about them all, and you don't have time to read that much. The work study students have helped us so much - and I have been fond of many of them.

Tom Sutherland - remember that name? He was the professor who was teaching in Beirut, Lebanon when he was kidnapped and held hostage for 2,354 days. He was a professor here for 26 years before he went to Beirut. He had a hero's welcome home when he was finally released. What a goose-bump-raising memory that is when he returned in 1991. A sculpture garden on campus was dedicated to him.

Last, but not least, my sweet husband had these sent to me today, to take to work tomorrow to celebrate this momentous occasion. He's also throwing a party at home tonight!

For more Friday Show and Tell stories, stop by Kelli's blog, There Is No Place Like Home.

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Memories Are Made of This II

At the end of the work day Friday, I will have driven approximately 85,100 miles to work and back. I have watched the space between my town and the university town grow incredibly. I used to see this young lady riding her bike to a vet clinic every morning - now I can barely find the little building among all of the houses, business, and apartment buildings. Thankfully there is still some empty space between the two towns, which has been mandated by the voters of our county - so we can still see the mountains on that drive.

There is a tremendous crew of young people who buzz around the campus in spring and summer, planting and caring for flowers and bushes. The peak time will be a bit later in the summer, when many visitors will be on campus for conferences and conventions. In my last stroll around, I thought I'd share some of the beauty.

This lovely rose garden is on the patio of the student center - I loved to read where this young man is sitting on this beautiful summer day.

One of the most special spots on campus is The Oval. There are dozens of hundred-year-old trees around this beautiful spot where many weddings are held, and many races are run. Every year there is a canned food drive on campus, and the cans are stacked around the entire oval, several layers deep.

There are some very old and architecturally interesting buildings - such as the Statistics Building, which was refurbished to its original stateliness in recent years - they uncovered beautiful stained-glass windows in the upper levels, which had been painted over sometime in history.

The very first building on campus, which had served as the administration building at some time, called Old Main, was burned down during the turbulent 60's. This is the current Administration Building.

There was a whole little colony of squirrels having a wonderful time playing in the grass, running up and down the trees, chattering, making an incredible ruckus - really fun.

This project, built by some engineering students, is a favorite spot of the girls - they love walking around campus. This is a favorite spot for pranksters - just a bit of soap and the bubbly mess is amazing. And quite a chore for the facilities folks to clean up.

My first two mornings with Peter have gone pretty well. He is incredibly young, but very bright and a pleasant, polite young man. He will be younger than most of the students he works with. I have 3 more half days with him - it won't be nearly enough. But we'll do the best we can. I did get the memo today that there will be a bit of a get-together Friday morning for anyone who can make it to say good-bye. But many are gone for the summer.

MORE TO COME - THE PEOPLE.

Memories are Made of This

You know of my angst over the writing of my procedures manual, if you read me more than once in awhile. It was the worst project I've had to do in all of my years of working. I have never had to do it before. It was so hard, because the job I have been doing for 15 years has grown into part of me - everything I did was so instinctive and natural. To put that down on paper (rather computer screen) was very painful. I came up with this crazy analogy - it reminded me so much of "that horrible process" I went through a couple of weeks ago. The process was so much worse than the procedure. The "cleaning out" of my brain and putting it down was so miserable. But finishing it last Friday felt amazingly wonderful. I left it for a wonderful work study student to put together into a notebook for tomorrow morning, when I begin the process of "training" for a week. I could not believe the result - about 15 pages of written processes, with 104 documents attached to those processes. No wonder I'm so tired!

So Friday after I finished, I decided to take a tour around campus to take some pictures of my favorite memories. For 11 years I worked full-time and spent my lunch hours mostly at the student center. I was always up for delivering something somewhere on campus - I loved walking around there (but only in good weather - the other times, I preferred to send a work study student!) But most of the time it was nice enough to walk - and read as I walked. When I went to part-time four years ago, I have really missed this time of getting out of the office and onto the campus.

Something really unusual and unexpected happened as I did my final walk-around. Remember a few weeks ago when I did a post in which I stated that there were only two things I was going to miss? Those two things - the students and my colleagues. Turns out that really wasn't true, evidently. As I walked around and took pictures, so many pleasant memories came to my mind that tears formed more than once. I never thought I would be so emotional about the end of this part of my life. The first 10 years were so great (the last 5 not so much). The fact that there doesn't seem to be any formal send-off planned has been hurtful, but I will walk out the door Friday with no regrets.

So - come with me around campus as I remember the "good old days" from my time in this position. Most of those 15 years have been spent in this building - nothing pretty about it. You can tell the era of the buildings by the style - what architect in the 60's thought those concrete circles were decorative is beyond me!

I love to watch the students relaxing in this area outside of our building - often they use their backpacks as pillows and take a little snooze. Often they actually have their classes out under these trees.

This sculpture was placed in the middle of the street outside our building in their quest to make this a walking campus - no more driving through. It was frustrating for awhile to restructure our way to work and place to park. But it does make it much more peaceful.

The north side of the building is much more pleasing to the eye than the south!

Walking north from our building, we head toward the library and the Student Center.

This is a lovely angle of the library - but do you see those strange-shaped coverings? They were designed, I believe, for asthetic affect - but truthfully, they are a real pain in the neck when the snow is melting or it's raining - the water drips all over everyone's heads as you walk underneath them.

The Ram mascot done in bronze stands guard over the south entrance to the library.

I love this view that looks out to the west. If you have need of a quiet place to study (remember when all places in the library were quiet? They have a coffee cart on the main floor!), you can go to the third floor and situate yourself with a view of the mountains - and try to study or read! The library was devastated during the $100 million dollar flood damage 11 years ago next month. You would never know it was so badly hit.

Heading north from the library, to the right is this huge new four-story building in process. It's amazing to me that I did not know about this big project - in the days when I was out on campus every day, I would have been watching it happen from the ground up. Last I knew, they were just beginning work over there, but I had no idea this large building would go up so quickly - I don't even know what department it is going to house. What is sad to me, though, is that there used to be a lovely green, grassy area there where students sat under trees and studied and visited. During Holocaust Awareness week, there were always flags planted in the grass to indicate home countries and numbers of those who were slaughtered by Hitler's regime. At the same time, Jewish students took turns reading off the names of the victims at a podium inside the Student Center - hour after hour after hour. It was eye-opening and heart-breaking.

On to the Student Center - the hub of the campus. It is a little town of its own - with banks, a beauty shop, about 8 restaurants in a food court, the book store, a convenience store, a florist shop, a very popular coffee shop.

I just loved eating lunch over here - I took my book, found a spot by myself, and enjoyed an hour. I'm not one who loves to "do lunch" during my work day. Lunch time was my escape. I especially loved it when I saw students doing a Bible study together - what a joy in contrast to all of the talk of others about what they did last night or over the week-end - and it wasn't studying! I could never figure out how they get through school when their week nights were spent in party mode - and wondered if their parents had a clue how their money was being wasted.

Or you can eat in the atrium and enjoy the beauty to the west.

On warm spring and summer days, I always found myself here with my lunch and my book.

See those trees up there on the patio? They are surrounded with an iron grate - the trees are actually growing in the middle of the patio. Like this:

I was walking to one of the picnic tables one beautiful spring day four years ago when my foot went into this very hole - the tree was very uncentered in the hole - I was suddenly in the most horendous pain - I dragged myself over to the table and sat there trying to catch my breath, and figure out how I was going to get back to my office - probably two blocks across the grass. I ended up calling my office and one of our work study students went to the health center, got some crutches, and helped me get back to my office. If I had thought about it being Worker's Comp, I would have definitely called an ambulance. I was in a boot for several weeks, and in physical therapy for six weeks. It still causes me trouble on occasion.

This is a view looking down into the basement area of the student center. See that little green circle with a line through it? That is the water line during that 1997 flood that I talked about earlier.

Here's another angle - it was total devastation in so many buildings. The deeply disguised blessing is that many buildings had upgrades that were not scheduled for many years, and they happened because of insurance.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

Friday Show and Tell - and Twin Update

This is #4 in my series called "I Used To . . . " It has been fun going down memory lane and realize how very creative I used to be. I hope you're enjoying it too.


When I was in 6th grade, the Hong Kong flu hit the country, and our town and school did not escape. I was fortunate and didn't get it for some reason. But there were many kids missing from school every day. Our teacher didn't want all the kids to get so behind in math and other subjects, so she slowed way down on academics for a couple of weeks and decided to teach us to knit. She somehow supplied us each with cotton yarn, with which we learned to make dish cloths. They were to be Christmas gifts for our moms. Then she had everyone bring in their yarn scraps (of which I had none, and no money to buy any - and I didn't want to spoil the surprise by asking for money from Mom!). Someone supplied me with some odds and ends and we learned to make little pin cushions - very much like this picture (isn't it amazing what you can find on Google?):



In the 8th grade, I had a great home ec. teacher who was an expert knitter - she made lovely Norwegian sweaters with intense, amazing patterns. I don't really remember what we knitted, but I learned to purl that year.

As the years went by, I didn't knit too often until college when I decided to make a sweater for my boyfriend. This guy was incredibly tall and skinny, and I'll never forget how the sweater turned out - the arms were so long they looked like they belonged to an orangutan. I learned that I knitted too loosely.

I didn't knit again until I was in my thirties. I made myself a cute sleeveless sweater. But I found this wonderful pattern for an outfit for Kristen. I have to say I am really proud of this outfit, and her girls have been able to wear it, too - but no pictures, surprisingly. This picture was taken on Kev's 2nd birthday.

At some point I decided to teach myself to crochet. I can't remember which came first - but I think it was the shawl. I still have it and wore it to church the other day - they seem to be back in vogue. I made the little furry coat Kristen is wearing - but I bought the little crocheted hat at a craft show.

I'll never forget when I started this afghan - I had to tear out the first several rows and do them over again - I got a terrible crick in my neck. Kevin had just received an ant farm for his birthday - he heard me complaining about the crick in my neck and he said, "Mommy has crickets and I have ants!" Priceless memory. (Don't you love the Alfred E. Neumann grin?)

I'm wearing the sleeveless sweater I mentioned above.

I have not knitted or crocheted since. Maybe someday!

The twins are growing and changing every day. They are blowing bubbles, talking to each other, smiling and laughing. They're drooling gallons every day - could they be teething already??

For more Friday Show and Tell stories, stop by Kelli's blog, There Is No Place Like Home.

Yikes!! Today I must complete the procedures manual - one week with the new guy and I'm out the door!

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

My dad was the third son born to Albert and Olga, with a younger brother and sister. He was raised on a farm in Minnesota and grew up with a strong work ethic. He always says he spent years in the house being his mom's helper, since she didn't have a girl yet. He longed to be out in the fields with his brothers and his dad.

Dad and his two brothers walked to the front of the church for dedication to the Lord when his parents became Christians when he was 3. Their lives were never the same after that - the two older boys became missionaries to Africa and Dad became a pastor. Dad is the one on the left in the back row.

Dad had to stay out of school for his junior year to help his dad on the farm - a tornado had gone through this Minnesota town and destroyed their place. But God does work in mysterious ways - my mom, who is three years younger, was skipped from first to third grade, therefore being in high school at the same time and just one year behind Dad. They were married when they were only 17 and 20, after three years of courtship.

He had just joined the Navy. Their honeymoon was a short one, and they moved into a tiny, not-so-nice room in a boarding house in Memphis. Mom recently told me some stories that included rats!

Here he is on their honeymoon.

At the ripe old age of 21 (mom being 18), he became my dad. He had hitchhiked from Memphis to Minneapolis in order to be there for my arrival. Unfortunately, I decided to be late! He requested an extension, but didn't get the news that it was granted until he was already back to the base. His commanding officer had a heart and sent him back home when I did arrive. That time he didn't have to hoof it with his thumb! Shortly after I was born, they headed back to Memphis, then on to Corpus Christi, Texas.

Here are the proud parents on my first Easter Sunday.

After the Navy, Dad went to Bible College in St. Paul. By that time my brother and sister had arrived (yep, three kids in three years - by the time he was 24). I love the story about the time we were visiting Grandma and Grandpa when Grandpa, who I do not remember as a jovial, joking kind of guy, said to my dad, "Well, son, you have Dawn, you have V, you have B, and now it's been two years - what happened?" My dad said, "We figured out what was causing it!" He told me years later, when I was old enough to "get it" - that wasn't far from the truth!

After Bible College, he and Mom were assigned to work with Child Evangelism in Batesville, Arkansas. We lived on a campground. Except for the very grouchy director's wife (the director himself was a delightful man), we had a wonderful time there, meeting all the kids and participating in all of the activities as if we were old enough. During the school year, Mom and Dad went to all of the little country schools in that part of Arkansas and held Bible classes - can you believe it? These very poor kids were able to earn their way to camp by learning Bible verses. My brother, sister, and I went along and sang trios at age 4, 3, and 2.

We moved to Heber Springs when I was 5, where they were to begin Child Evangelism work. We began attending a tiny little church, which had an elderly woman pastor. She was not in good health and soon Dad began helping her when she was too ill to preach. Before long Dad was involved in course work which would lead to his ordination as a pastor. I often say that when we became part of that little church, we practically doubled the membership (by this time there were 4 kids).

This was the church that was so small they didn't have an accompanist for congregational singing. When I was 7, they sacrificed and somehow came up with the money for a used piano and started me on piano lessons. I began playing for church at age 8 - my feet would not reach the pedals, nor would I have known what to do with them if they had! Dad would give my piano teacher the hymns he wanted to sing the next Sunday and my teacher incorporated them into my piano lesson. She also bought me a little "Hymns for Little Fingers" book so that I could play offertories.

This was a magical time in the lives of this financially challenged large family. We had so much fun, and had no idea we were impoverished. Mom and Dad managed a used clothing store - from which clothing we were able to find things we could wear. There was a "crick" down the way from our house and we played "Sugar Creek Gang" - anybody remember those books?? We also played missionary, Bible School, Billy Graham Crusade - are you sensing a pattern here? The Lord's work was our entire life.

When Dad was a young boy, he took the tractor apart one day just to prove he could - and that he could put it back together! He succeeded, and this was the beginning of his lifelong love of fixing things. He was able to earn some much-needed money by fixing everyone's everything in that little town. We especially loved it when he was fixing someone's t.v. set - we didn't have one yet, nor would we have one for quite some time. We always were so glad when he didn't quite finish working on a set until too late to get it back to the owner before the Saturday morning cartoons!

That led to his working on wiring the Christmas lights to the top of the town courthouse. We watched in awe and amazement, and my mom with a great deal of fear, as he hung from the dome - seemingly halfway to the sky. I considered him fearless. I thought he could do anything. (This ability to fix anything came in very handy for his kids as we grew up and had our own homes - we always had a "to-do" list for Dad when they came to visit).

That led to his working on the electrical wiring of the dam that was being built outside of Heber Springs - the Greers Ferry Dam. It would transform our sleepy little Mayberry-like town into a resort area. Years later, when I was high school, we returned for the dedication of that dam and could not believe it was the same place. It was a bit sad. The personality of that little town changed completely. Tumbling Shoals Bridge was no longer.

Those were the years when Dad literally ran everywhere he went. The doctor once told him he could actually walk sometimes and it wouldn't hurt.

We lived there until I was in 5th grade. Here is a picture of that era.

Dad's dad became quite ill, and Dad decided we needed to move back north to be closer to him and his Mom. So we headed to northernmost Minnesota. It was an adjustment - though we had been born in Minnesota and had lived there