I have some things to add, but they are part of the appendix of things written by other people. I'll include my Cousin Edith's letter describing when the Kennedy's used their rest room after the end of a white water race on the Hudson. And then there are things my Dad put to paper about relatives and about his WWII experience. So I've come to the less pleasant part of writing: looking at the thing as a whole, and working on the second draft. The way I'll work on the second draft will be to revise these blog entries ... so I don't think that will show up on facebook posts.
Meanwhile, I think my writing activities will be divided between this and a first draft of something else. I'm thinking a description of the hippy years. In a way, it's sort of embarrassing, but it also may be of interest. Some people will find it boring compared to what they imagined, but others may react differently.
And what a job it will be to write about! I have to keep my modern judgments out as much as I can. Also want to keep out the bragging "dope story" aspect. I don't know if I can do either.
Today I'm thinking about the old friend who died last winter, and I only just learned about it yesterday. This was an old friend I was happy to let go of, but I also had the thought that I'd see him again some day. I don't have an image of heaven as an old time reunion place, so I don't have that expectation. So I'm mourning him and thinking about what I can write about him. I cared about him a lot and had a lot of important experiences through him, but also didn't like him much. He was an amazing conversationalist and could play chords on the guitar and hold his harmony well. He was uncomfortable around me, probably because he knew what I knew about him and knew I didn't much like things about him. He told me a lot of his shortcomings and withheld some that were so huge, I only speculated about them. (I do the same myself - I'll tell you 80% of who I am so you won't find out about the 20%.) We were very intimate, but touched rarely - rather like Robert E. Howard and schoolteacher Novalyne Price Ellis in the movie the Whole Wide World. No wonder I wasn't in contact with him when he died.
Showing posts with label old friend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old friend. Show all posts
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
more stories
Finding people on the internet
Since I was a teenager, my dad had often mentioned Anne Franke. She was the girl my dad had wanted to visit for a weekend when he was seventeen. His parents had vetoed that visit and I don't think he ever forgave them. They thought that he "might get into mischief." And he admits they were probably right. Anne Franke was quite something, evidently. My dad kept her letters and I got to see them about a year before he died. After reading them, it's my impression that she really strung him along. They corresponded through world war II and even after she married.
I was telling Dad about how I was able to find old friends on the internet. Right away, he asked if I could find Anne Franke. This was going to be quite tough since he didn't know her married name. He knew three details: her sister's married name, that her father had become Secretary of the Navy under Eisenhower, and that he had retired to Vermont. These turned out to be enough.
I found her by looking for the sister in obituaries in the New York Times. I figured that her father's distinction as Naval Secretary might rate his daughter a mention. What astonishes me, is that she died only a month previous to my search and was listed. In the obituary I found Ms. Franke's married name and home state in the list of survivors. She had been one of the originators of the state's Nature Conservancy and her telephone number was listed. I called and spoke to her son and told him that my Dad would be happy to hear from her. She was away from home, tending to her sister's affairs. She did respond once to email from my Dad but not again after that. Thanks to the internet, she broke his heart again.
Another remarkable internet find was a childhood friend on the internet. Patty had been my best friend from the time my family moved to Porter Corners when I was 11 until I was about 17 when we moved to Eastern Queens. We had been on the same telephone party line and had a lot of fun confusing a boy we had both dated. He'd call one of us and we'd call the other and say "Stanley's going to call you. I'm going to listen in." and after had made the second call, we'd listen in and then chime in when the conversation was well underway. We got into mischief in ways that baffled our parents because apart we were remarkably well-behaved. When we were fifteen, she and I shoved a curtain rod through a wall of my parent's summer place when there were boys on the other side. It seemed to make perfect sense at the time. One of the boys on the other side of the wall tugged on the curtain rod and needed stitches as a result.
I was living in Maryland when I started this internet search. I had forgotten her married name. So I thought I'd look for her older sister, Ellen. As a girl in highschool, Ellen had been mysteriously very skinny. I remember hearing that she had been hospitalized and had been fed milkshakes. Years later, I had the impression that she was anorexic. I figured there was a good chance that she had not married. I typed in Ellen's maiden name and couldn't believe my eyes. There was a listing by her name in the very Maryland town I was living! This is 402 miles from Porter Corners. Sure enough, I found Ellen living exactly 30 minutes away from were I live. Besides counting Ellen as a friend these days, I've had a chance to visit with Patty a few times. Ellen did marry, but retained her maiden name. To add to this string of coincidence, Patty's husband grew up in the community where I lived when I first moved to Maryland, 138 miles from where I live now.
Singing with dad's dementia - refer to story I wrote a few years ago.
One class of stories is the "dope story." Which what you would expect it to be. I have a few stories of my own, but I'll save that for my recollections of my "hippy days". Here's a dope story. It's not my own, but a good one told by and about a friend of mine.
The Disney movie Fantasia was making the rounds to "a theater near you" in the early 1970's. Fantasia is still circulating. It's a movie of wonderful Disney animation from 1940 which is set to classical music. It is famous for dancing hippos and Micky Mouse as the sorcerer's apprentice.
College-aged Mark B. got stoned before going into the theater. About half-way through the picture, he had a revelation, the kind that only stoners can get. He stood up on the chair in that small-town theater and cried out "It's all in time to the music!!"
Since I was a teenager, my dad had often mentioned Anne Franke. She was the girl my dad had wanted to visit for a weekend when he was seventeen. His parents had vetoed that visit and I don't think he ever forgave them. They thought that he "might get into mischief." And he admits they were probably right. Anne Franke was quite something, evidently. My dad kept her letters and I got to see them about a year before he died. After reading them, it's my impression that she really strung him along. They corresponded through world war II and even after she married.
I was telling Dad about how I was able to find old friends on the internet. Right away, he asked if I could find Anne Franke. This was going to be quite tough since he didn't know her married name. He knew three details: her sister's married name, that her father had become Secretary of the Navy under Eisenhower, and that he had retired to Vermont. These turned out to be enough.
I found her by looking for the sister in obituaries in the New York Times. I figured that her father's distinction as Naval Secretary might rate his daughter a mention. What astonishes me, is that she died only a month previous to my search and was listed. In the obituary I found Ms. Franke's married name and home state in the list of survivors. She had been one of the originators of the state's Nature Conservancy and her telephone number was listed. I called and spoke to her son and told him that my Dad would be happy to hear from her. She was away from home, tending to her sister's affairs. She did respond once to email from my Dad but not again after that. Thanks to the internet, she broke his heart again.
Another remarkable internet find was a childhood friend on the internet. Patty had been my best friend from the time my family moved to Porter Corners when I was 11 until I was about 17 when we moved to Eastern Queens. We had been on the same telephone party line and had a lot of fun confusing a boy we had both dated. He'd call one of us and we'd call the other and say "Stanley's going to call you. I'm going to listen in." and after had made the second call, we'd listen in and then chime in when the conversation was well underway. We got into mischief in ways that baffled our parents because apart we were remarkably well-behaved. When we were fifteen, she and I shoved a curtain rod through a wall of my parent's summer place when there were boys on the other side. It seemed to make perfect sense at the time. One of the boys on the other side of the wall tugged on the curtain rod and needed stitches as a result.
I was living in Maryland when I started this internet search. I had forgotten her married name. So I thought I'd look for her older sister, Ellen. As a girl in highschool, Ellen had been mysteriously very skinny. I remember hearing that she had been hospitalized and had been fed milkshakes. Years later, I had the impression that she was anorexic. I figured there was a good chance that she had not married. I typed in Ellen's maiden name and couldn't believe my eyes. There was a listing by her name in the very Maryland town I was living! This is 402 miles from Porter Corners. Sure enough, I found Ellen living exactly 30 minutes away from were I live. Besides counting Ellen as a friend these days, I've had a chance to visit with Patty a few times. Ellen did marry, but retained her maiden name. To add to this string of coincidence, Patty's husband grew up in the community where I lived when I first moved to Maryland, 138 miles from where I live now.
Singing with dad's dementia - refer to story I wrote a few years ago.
One class of stories is the "dope story." Which what you would expect it to be. I have a few stories of my own, but I'll save that for my recollections of my "hippy days". Here's a dope story. It's not my own, but a good one told by and about a friend of mine.
The Disney movie Fantasia was making the rounds to "a theater near you" in the early 1970's. Fantasia is still circulating. It's a movie of wonderful Disney animation from 1940 which is set to classical music. It is famous for dancing hippos and Micky Mouse as the sorcerer's apprentice.College-aged Mark B. got stoned before going into the theater. About half-way through the picture, he had a revelation, the kind that only stoners can get. He stood up on the chair in that small-town theater and cried out "It's all in time to the music!!"
Friday, May 18, 2007
Jo Ann elaborates
Oh yes, you fill in the blanks so very well! Would it be ok if I put this in my blog?
On May 17, 2007, at 1:50 PM, Jo Ann wrote:
Your blog mentions that we had some times together, but you couldn’t remember exactly what. This is my account of the story:
Early in 1992, we met in a Friday night OA meeting at Woods. You had come back after being away for some time. I added your number to my list of members, called you as good OA’ers do, and talked about what I was experiencing in OA. Of course that was all about my higher power, Who I had become friends with during my early OA years in the late 70’s. During that period in the 70’s through OA meetings, He had helped me to learn about Him and how much He loved me, and helped me to overcome drugs and alcohol. And then again in the early 90’s He had helped me to loose 86 pounds living a “fasted” life. We met at the Indian restaurant for lunch sometime around that time; you were working on a grant somewhere in the city around Baltimore Street. Later I met you when you were working at the Science Center, where you taught me about fractals.
That spring, at dinner after a Friday night meeting, you encouraged a few of our OA associates and me to go to DC to the Art Museum. You met us a Fuddruckers in Annapolis, and there taught us about art – by matching postcards. I was so excited and impressed, that I went to work and told Mark about how interesting you made art to be. Mark had taken an art course when he was in Loyola and got though it, but wasn’t too thrilled with it. So I talked him and you into meeting together; you doing the postcard thing (I love that). And off we three went to DC to the Art Museum. He still says to this day that you were responsible for his knowledge and appreciation of art (and mine).
Later, we three went to the Walter’s Art Gallery to see a Monet exhibit, and Mark brought his niece, Jessica (I think once again, you did the post card thing for Jess). Before the gallery, we went to the Indian restaurant for dinner. Unbeknownst to you, Jess was graduating from high school, and had been toying with the idea of becoming a teacher. Mark and his family were trying to talk her out of it, but after meeting you, she made her decision to become one, and has carried that out. She told Mark, “you have lived your life, Uncle Mark, and now I have to live mine.”
Before you moved to S__, you had a fancy for bluegrass, and first I, and then Mark and I, went to hear you and some others “pick and grin.” Around that same time, I met you and a friend at a “center for handicapped” one day, and tried to play the piano along with you. Later you moved to S__, and around 2001, you came and spent the night with me on your way to a bluegrass concert of some kind. Since you moved to S__, Mark and I had to do an audit there, and we were able to meet you for dinner at a great Mexican restaurant and have a wonderful evening together with you then. In 2002, God had me go into real estate so I could sell your condo. He must have, because that was the only sale I made.
On May 17, 2007, at 1:50 PM, Jo Ann wrote:
Your blog mentions that we had some times together, but you couldn’t remember exactly what. This is my account of the story:
Early in 1992, we met in a Friday night OA meeting at Woods. You had come back after being away for some time. I added your number to my list of members, called you as good OA’ers do, and talked about what I was experiencing in OA. Of course that was all about my higher power, Who I had become friends with during my early OA years in the late 70’s. During that period in the 70’s through OA meetings, He had helped me to learn about Him and how much He loved me, and helped me to overcome drugs and alcohol. And then again in the early 90’s He had helped me to loose 86 pounds living a “fasted” life. We met at the Indian restaurant for lunch sometime around that time; you were working on a grant somewhere in the city around Baltimore Street. Later I met you when you were working at the Science Center, where you taught me about fractals.
That spring, at dinner after a Friday night meeting, you encouraged a few of our OA associates and me to go to DC to the Art Museum. You met us a Fuddruckers in Annapolis, and there taught us about art – by matching postcards. I was so excited and impressed, that I went to work and told Mark about how interesting you made art to be. Mark had taken an art course when he was in Loyola and got though it, but wasn’t too thrilled with it. So I talked him and you into meeting together; you doing the postcard thing (I love that). And off we three went to DC to the Art Museum. He still says to this day that you were responsible for his knowledge and appreciation of art (and mine).
Later, we three went to the Walter’s Art Gallery to see a Monet exhibit, and Mark brought his niece, Jessica (I think once again, you did the post card thing for Jess). Before the gallery, we went to the Indian restaurant for dinner. Unbeknownst to you, Jess was graduating from high school, and had been toying with the idea of becoming a teacher. Mark and his family were trying to talk her out of it, but after meeting you, she made her decision to become one, and has carried that out. She told Mark, “you have lived your life, Uncle Mark, and now I have to live mine.”
Before you moved to S__, you had a fancy for bluegrass, and first I, and then Mark and I, went to hear you and some others “pick and grin.” Around that same time, I met you and a friend at a “center for handicapped” one day, and tried to play the piano along with you. Later you moved to S__, and around 2001, you came and spent the night with me on your way to a bluegrass concert of some kind. Since you moved to S__, Mark and I had to do an audit there, and we were able to meet you for dinner at a great Mexican restaurant and have a wonderful evening together with you then. In 2002, God had me go into real estate so I could sell your condo. He must have, because that was the only sale I made.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Ellen
When I was in the fifth grade, my family moved out of town and on to a road in the country. The road was called Plank Road because it used to be made of wood planks and it went up Glass Factory Mountain where there used to be a glass factory and later a graphite mine. My sister and I joined the 4-H and had the opportunity to learn the domestic skills that we weren't learning at home. We took courses called Sew a Fine Seam and Iron with Ease. We learned how to make baking powder buscuits from scratch so well that we didn't need to look at the recipe. I often sewed my own clothes (with a varying degree of success). We learned how to do a demonstration in front of strangers and we learned how to do home nursing without giggling.
My best friend was Patty, who still lives on Glass Factory Mountain. Her mother was our 4-H leader and our Sunday school teacher. A few years ago, I revisited the hamlet and stopped by the general store (pictured), which I learned was now owned by Patty. Surprisingly I learned that Patty's husband came from along the Potomac, where first lived when we came to Maryland. He knew my mechanic. But that wasn't the most remarkable Six Degree discovery.
I was looking on the internet for Patty's sister Ellen and learned that she lived exactly thirty miles away from me. Glass Factory Mountain is at least 400 miles from here, and lo and behold Ellen is just, once again, down the road.
I first got in touch with her by calling her number and listening to her answering machine. After almost forty years, her voice was completely familiar. Not only was it the voice of a familiar person, but it was the cadence of my home culture.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Jo Ann
This morning as I drove to work, I thought about people that God has put in my life to let me know His love. These don't have to be people who directly talked about God. Many people just made me mindful of the good that is in our world. I spent a lot of time thinking of Jo Ann.
Jo Ann is a friend I haven't seen in several years. Thanks to the internet, it doesn't seem that long. Jo Ann and I would seem to be unlikely friends, but somehow years ago a few things we may have said and a few things we did together cemented the deal. She and another unlikely friend, a co-worker of hers named Mark, have taken a few excursions together. I can't remember exactly where we went (I'll ask Jo Ann to update me) but I remember that we talked non-stop on the trips and with great fun.
Since I've known her Jo Ann has always loved the Lord with a real and unashamed enthusiasm. She was always available when I would call her with questions on my own seeking Bible Study. She didn't get into theological nitpicking. If it wasn't in the Bible, it was none of her business. I often called about weird questions and she did her best with concordances and topical indexes handy, to help me out. I can remember asking her a hypothetical question about a situation I saw in a movie about the Rapture. She said "Cathy, it's a movie." She made me realize that the movie was an author's reality, and my question was about God's reality.
She gave me solid simple advice. When I was obsessed over a man in my life, she told me to look beyond him to Jesus. And she told me to talk to Jesus the way I would talk to a man in my life ... tell Him about my day, tell him my joys and sorrows, give him gifts and look for His gifts. When I told her about my paralyzing stage fright, she told me that God could take care of that. I do believe that my present day lack of stage fright was a gift of the Holy Spirit.
She didn't see me or other non-Christian friends as potential notches in her Bible. On the contrary, she shared her joy in the Lord with us as naturally as if He were a real person. She was just keeping us abreast on her relationship with the One she loved best.
So after thinking about her for twenty minutes on the way to work, I found an e-mail from her this morning. (I hadn't heard from her in several months.)
Her e-mail said "Thought I would share this today. Someone must need to hear it. My calendar for today reads:
'Lord, I pray You would help me set my life in right order. I want to always put You first above all else in my life. Teach me how to love You with all my heart, mind, and soul.'
Isn’t it great to know that if we ask Him, He will teach us to do that which our own carnal selves may not always want to do."
There's a lot more I could write, and I hope to in the future.
How I invited her to come to church with me on the day I decided to go forward. I wanted her to walk up with me.
Or how she took me to her church where the folks "got happy", and one sweet lady. who was trying to be comforting, petted my hair and chased me out of the church.
Jo Ann is a friend I haven't seen in several years. Thanks to the internet, it doesn't seem that long. Jo Ann and I would seem to be unlikely friends, but somehow years ago a few things we may have said and a few things we did together cemented the deal. She and another unlikely friend, a co-worker of hers named Mark, have taken a few excursions together. I can't remember exactly where we went (I'll ask Jo Ann to update me) but I remember that we talked non-stop on the trips and with great fun.
Since I've known her Jo Ann has always loved the Lord with a real and unashamed enthusiasm. She was always available when I would call her with questions on my own seeking Bible Study. She didn't get into theological nitpicking. If it wasn't in the Bible, it was none of her business. I often called about weird questions and she did her best with concordances and topical indexes handy, to help me out. I can remember asking her a hypothetical question about a situation I saw in a movie about the Rapture. She said "Cathy, it's a movie." She made me realize that the movie was an author's reality, and my question was about God's reality.
She gave me solid simple advice. When I was obsessed over a man in my life, she told me to look beyond him to Jesus. And she told me to talk to Jesus the way I would talk to a man in my life ... tell Him about my day, tell him my joys and sorrows, give him gifts and look for His gifts. When I told her about my paralyzing stage fright, she told me that God could take care of that. I do believe that my present day lack of stage fright was a gift of the Holy Spirit.
She didn't see me or other non-Christian friends as potential notches in her Bible. On the contrary, she shared her joy in the Lord with us as naturally as if He were a real person. She was just keeping us abreast on her relationship with the One she loved best.
So after thinking about her for twenty minutes on the way to work, I found an e-mail from her this morning. (I hadn't heard from her in several months.)
Her e-mail said "Thought I would share this today. Someone must need to hear it. My calendar for today reads:
'Lord, I pray You would help me set my life in right order. I want to always put You first above all else in my life. Teach me how to love You with all my heart, mind, and soul.'
Isn’t it great to know that if we ask Him, He will teach us to do that which our own carnal selves may not always want to do."
There's a lot more I could write, and I hope to in the future.
How I invited her to come to church with me on the day I decided to go forward. I wanted her to walk up with me.
Or how she took me to her church where the folks "got happy", and one sweet lady. who was trying to be comforting, petted my hair and chased me out of the church.
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