Adios Tucson y Voyager

This trip reactivated the Spanish in which I was once very fluent, but as most skills and abilities, use it or lose it; fortunately I retain sufficient fluency to get by but find I can read and comprehend it easier than speaking, attributable to the quick pace of most conversations.  Good to know it is resilient, returning with practice.

Our week at Voyager RV Resort in Tucson is over and we are in Las Cruces.  As usually happens when we fail to plan, we pay the price.  So sure that we would leave the Voyager on Monday, we did not book for the week. We did spend a week here getting all the kinks and trinks fixed on the new motor home.

Entrance to Voyager RV Resort



Our new Discovery motor home with our HHR, tow car
Notice our shade tree, the palm in front!

The Voyager is an adult resort, no kids running about loose nor splashing in the pools, it caters to snowbirds and all adult rigs.  It really is a nice place offering everything one needs, of course at a price. Our spacein the premium shady area, the photo of our Excursion and HHR show the solitary palm tree which evidently is the shade.  Is this false advertising?  It is funny.

In addition to motor homes, coaches and permanent  mobile homes, the resort has built ever so many small cottages that people can  purchase for their winter homes.  These cottages are smaller than our motor home, and yet serve the purpose for those who choose to spend the winter there and  fly  or drive to Tucson.  I talked with a woman from Manitoba, Canada who bought one as a vacation get away.  She said they spend at least a month there every winter and that she  prefersit to a condo, feeling it is a bit more private. This photo shows three of the cottages across from our spot.

Cottages at Voyager with carports

 I have yet to do the Voyager evaluation online, but although they advised that if we extended our stay they would not prorate the days paid for to the cheaper weekly rate, we took our chances; they did not and we did stay a week not leaving until Thursday and thereby paying  $150 more than we would have.  Some might find this comical that I worry about spending extra when it could have been prevented; I can see it in faces when I say something is expensive.  They look at me with almost a smirk, as if to say, :sure lady you just spent $150,000 and you are concerned about $50 but they don't know about my bag lady phantom, who haunts.  (I shared her before we left on this trip to procure the new motor home...)  I have learned other of my retired friends share her mystique too.  

Saguaro is the tall single cactus on right

We spent a day at the Saguaro desert Museum, driving and walking and looking at the magnificent saguaros that grow only in this Sonoran desert area.  It was disappointing that my little Nikon camera battery died then, limiting my photo taking abilitities.  There is something about seeing cacti now especially in bloom that fascinates me, likely a result of  living in the north where none exist.  Our neighbor in Newcastle, Bill McGrath grew many cacti and shared a spiny leaf or arm with us to plant out along our back fence where they thrived until we had an unusual frost.  Cacti in bloom as the one above are alluringly beautiful.

Jerry along Octillo cactus at Saguaro Museum Lot

In addition to reactivating my Spanish, Arizona reactivated my allergies.  At first I thought I had a cold but after a couple days and a hint from a friend, I realized the runny nose, sneezes, and watery eyes were allergies, the likes of which I have not had in  many years.   The pollen from the trees, the dust and the breezy winds were not friendly to me.  A trip to one of the many Walgreens to purchase Claritin gave a lot of relief.  The winds spread the pollen and dust readily and do nothing for hairdos.  This did not bother me, I settled for styling my hair in the morning and thereafter  just let it blow, fortunately I have that kind of hairdo that takes little fuss and will settle back to where it needs to be. It was a balmy warm wind, a relief from the MN wintry wind chills.   

The bartender at La Posta in La Mesilla, New Mexico advised that late March through April are allergy season in the area, when the olive trees and fruitless mulberries stir amidst the air.  Bartenders are an amazing source of information.

Another tree that fascinated me in Arizona is the Ironwood, which is also native to the sonoran desert.  As the name implies it is a very hardwood tree but thrives in the heat.  I took many photos of this tree in various stages of bloom or not, in their intermediate leafing stage they are feathery in appearance. The bark on the younger trees is pale greenish but in maturity it is similar to old darkened iron.  I  learned that the cold spell that Tucson area experienced over this winter was fatal to some of the older trees, desert natives.

Ironwood tree not leafed, may not have
survived the winter

This has been a wonderful trip but one which has offered little time for blogging.  I started this post on March 25 and just am finishing it in Texas, more than a week later, and in the third state.  I have yet to share wonderful experiences from New Mexico.....well it is all good.  Better to be so busily entertained that there is no time to write, I suppose, but the irony is that now I have the set up, the right computer laptop and no time. Ahh well, later the memories will flow.

So far so good and so warm

Happy face, happy place

Have had no time to post on my blog, comical in that my original intent with blogging was to keep others posted while we were traveling.  As so many other events and circumstances in life, so it is with the blog,  it changes; most quick posts are on Facebook and a few personal emails.  I do find Facebook helpful at notifying several all at once.  Nevertheless, we have had a wonderful journey to date while several times I've had thoughts and or sights about which I've thought, "must  get that onto my blog." I am loving the sunshine and warm weather, laps in the pool and leisurely hikes around the RV desert park.



We journeyed a different route southwest through lots of Kansas, that we had not seen before along Hwy. 54. Avoiding interstates allows for a more scenic route and interesting spots.  I saw signs advertising the world"s largest hand dug well near Greensburg Kansas, as one of the eight wonders of Kansas.  I have asked what are the other 7 but suppose that question will remain unanswered until I do some internet searches..  One evening enroute we stayed at Wal Mart's RV spot, with several other RV'ers.  It was quiet and the price cannot be beat, a nice way to save a few $$ for self contained RV'ers.  Our next  door neighbors were  snow birds from Manitoba, Canada on their way  north.  Many snow birds in their motor homes are already headed north, making us appear to be swimming against the tide.   All through  southwestern Kansas we noticed individual oil well pumps, here and there among the ranch lands, all pumping.  Well at the price of oil and no relief soon in sight, why not.  although I do wonder, what happens to the oil from these scattered individual wells?  It must be refined, is there a cooperative of sorts where individuals gather to ship oil much like the cooperative grain elevators throughout the Midwest?  Or are these not owned individually as I imagine? What would you do with your own oil well?  Dream on....The next morning before we left I noticed right across the street this oil rig.



Liberal,  Kansas, Oil well

I  recalled westward  history of our country along this route and both Kansas and Missouri are proud of their heritage in settlement of the west along the trails, rivers and byways.  Murals were noticeable in many of the buildings, and I snapped this from the window while we were pulling out of the Wal Mart lots.  This building,  a full city block long makes a dynamite display for the panorama.

Building Mural  Liberal, .KS

Close up of buffalo in same mural above

While Jerry was  driving, I was reading n article about the history of American  RV's in the Family Motor Coach Association's monthly magazine, which also included some photos supplied by an archivist from the RV Museum in Elkhart Indiana.  Wow, I thought that certainly would be an interesting blog post, in particular for Sepia Saturdays if I can copy/scan some of the  first RV's.  "Houses on wheels" was the term used in the early days of Motor home travel.  Fate often fires loose with her funny sense of humor as she did when we were at a rest stop in Arizona.  What should be there but, Joe,  a man from Georgia in his very own self made motor home/trailer.  I have to say I've never seen anything like this.  He was an interesting character and admitted to an affliction of generating  more ideas than fund$; Joe wants to keep traveling the country and he is enjoying himself to the utmost in his own version of towed 5th wheel, he did this all himself and was very proud to share with Jerry.  Certainly unique, don"t you think?  Well it is working for Joe who says it was more important to be mobile and to see the country than to worry about his rougher venue; he was perfectly content to see the USA from his own bus and he was someone who likely has a very interesting life story..

Joe from Georgia moving along westward

This is what we love about taking  the motor  home on a journey, the experiences,  the sights and the very interesting folks we meet along the way.  Well we are in Arizona after a one day stop in another favorite spot, Las Cruces, NM, Sunny Acres RV Park, where we have stayed before. We will return to Sunny Acres on our way home.  It is a small RV Park with a share of interesting characters.  

I never before thought of taking photos of palm trees the 40+ years we lived in CA.    Now deprived of their daily sight, I find it fascinating to look through the fonds.  And I remember the first "miniature" fan palm I purchased to plant alongside our first home in Fair Oaks conversation went something like this and I have to admit to being mislead (notice not wrong) in the purchase.  "Pat, this will get too big.."  "Well it will not!  See the tag says, miniature, it is just perfect for here."  And 5-6 years later it towered up to the roof of the second story.  Eventually it had to come out.   I remain a fan of fan palms!  

 

Sunny Acres RV Park
Las Cruces New Mexico

More later about our Arizona adventures. 

Southward in our Southwind for an Excursion and Warmth

I will not be posting my regular Sepia Saturday photos for a few weeks as we load up the motor home to head to Arizona, 80 degree sunshine and warmth.  My winter weary cabin fever ala southern MN, has gotten to me to the extent  that I, who dislike the desert  am so looking forward to the journey.  I anticipate ditching sweaters and jackets and jeans for capris, bermudas,  short sleeves and sandals for which I had a pedicure this week getting my toes ready to bare themselves!  My toes too shouted Hooray proclaiming their readiness to see the sun again after being winter enclosed and covered with socks!
There is a purpose to the trip.....Jerry has discovered another motor home to trade up, the diesel he has been pining for.  Our motor home is perfectly lovely but he wants a diesel, bigger for our intended trips,i.e. Alaska this summer. After all, he claims, ours has 30,000+ miles.....to which I reply, "so what, my car has 36,000 and we are not trading it in anytime soon?"  With our elderly care responsibilities  (my last relative,  PA Uncle Carl, soon to be 93 who said Friday on the phone, "Jerry should get what he wants because life is to enjoy what we have while we can."  Uncle Carl  is quite the philosopher who said we should go, have a good time and send him a postcard or two. And so Jerry felt quite smug.  I've said before, my family everyone, Mom, the aunts and Uncle Carl always favor my husband in any discussion!  It's a plot!  Meantime MIL,  Jerry's dismal 94 year old Mom here in the local SNF is of course not as amenable but managed to nag about what would happen with her laundry while we are gone!  I told her the SNF will do it, as they do for others there, but as she refuses to change clothing she will likely save it up for our return as she  does other times..)   Well, you get the drift, we have not traveled as extensively in the RV as we had planned.  another one of those life things where we plan and the Greater Beyond laughs...  Nevertheless  over these 47+ years I have observed Jerry's actions and determination enough to know that sooner or later he would get what he wanted.   This is why he dares not say a word when I purchase anything as cost of  his purchases have far exceeded the meager amounts of my splurges.   I suppose my philosophy about all of this, if it's to be it will be, a fated approach has once again worked it's truth, because the other deals and motor homes were not to be and  when those did not materialize, Jerry would pout.  Yes, he can and does...



2008 Fleetwood Excursion

 This new motor home is a 2008 Fleetwood Excursion, 40 ft. (ours is only 33 ft., a mini by comparison).  It appears from what we have seen online to have all the features I wanted, 2 recliners in the living area rather than multiple sofas, a table and chairs in the dining area and the flat screen big TV in the galley area, translate that close to the beverages...Here is the description from the dealer:  " This 2008 Fleetwood Excursion is a beautiful diesel pusher with every comfort of home.  Features include: sofa sleeper, ultra leather, rear entertainment center, TV, DVD, satellite dish, satellite radio, power visors, recessed lighting, solid surface counter tops throughout, convection microwave oven, large four door refrigerator with ice, built-in washer/dryer, and central vacuum."

 The interior cabinetry is a bit lighter than I'd have liked;  being quite satisfied with the cherry tone in our current RV, but this looks acceptable.  I do like the splash of red upholstery, and there is another couch for seating for company.  This coach we are told was owned by a couple who seldom used it and then their age overtook them.  That is preferable with amenities more suited to two than a large family mode of travel. Lack of a lower oven  in the kitchen aroused my skepticism, but there is a micro wave and convection oven as we have currently.  But you know once I thought it over, I  have never used the lower oven in our current RV nor in the older one other than for storage. Over 10 years of motor home ownership has not necessitated an oven, so I should not miss that a bit.  We eat differently in the RV and the convection oven meets our needs adequately.   Neither does this model have a dishwasher, an commonly  offered amenity, the former owners opting out.  I never thought I'd say this, but I do not need nor desire a dishwasher in the motor home,  fond as I am of our home dishwasher.  In the RV I am quite used to washing our few dishes now and then and cannot imagine I'd need a dishwasher, preferring the storage cabinet in its place.  We frequently use paper plates too and or eat out. 

Well to my PA girlfriends at  home, Jerry will have something to do--he promised to host  them using his outside kitchen that was in other models but not this one, so he will have to rough it, cooking their meal using our old outdoor grill.  This coach is black, red, white and silver....black and red were our high school colors.  Our Ken Hi 50th reunion is well underway!

Dining area and recliners to the left

Toward the front

Bed Apparently slides are in.
 The photo does  not show room on either side

I wonder about circumstances colliding beyond our sphere of control/belief, serendipity, and that we just might create our life events,  that this could relate to a peculiar happening in 2009 in WY at the Fleetwood RV rally where I took the women's driving school.  There, I had to drive  a 40 foot diesel Excursion!  That was really an experience for me, and though I am glad I did it I cannot say I enjoyed!  The class consisted of primarily driving backwards...I told the instructor that I will go miles around blocks driving my vehicle forward to avoid backing up, it;s just not something I do!  Well her Daddy had been a truck driver and taught her to drive by backing up, saying if you can maneuver backward, you can drive, and anyone can  forward.. Somehow that day with angels on my shoulders and devils in my ears and mouth,  I completed that  "gruelsome" (another of my words)  course only grazing  two rubber barricades  in one back up drill.  The escapade was quite an accomplishment for me!  And so here we look forward to owning a diesel; I had never before driven one...but Jerry I believe must have been a long haul truck driver in another life, as he is so looking forward to this and "more power."

Ahh, well, as  my phobia of  becoming an elderly  bag lady, surfaces with this expenditure, I keep in mind that we gain  less than minimal  interest these days, perhaps a national sales tax looms which will drive up prices, and the only value of  money is to make one's life easier and enjoyable and  help others  along the way....still, it takes a hunk out of savings, that we will not replace in retirement.  We are fortunate that our home is  fully paid for and we have no debt, able to manage well with my pension, Jerry's IRA, and social security.  Still, I see that old bag lady image!  Where does she come from?  She resembles the witch in Hansel and Gretel, a Grimm's fairy tale my Grandma read me in childhood...except that witch had a house and this baglady has a shopping cart!   I really should name her as she has been regularly showing herself to me for a long time whenever we spend $$.  She does some good as she is the reason I saved $$ diligently while working. Perhaps if I give her a name and write a tale about her, she will leave...from the depths of my subconscious and go where she is more welcome!

From another blog, another Californian no less, is it because we  witnessed this daily in the metropolitans(http://www.thedigeratilife.com/blog/index.php/2007/03/13/help-could-i-have-bag-lady-syndrome/)  " I found out that I actually have a few things in common with these women: Lily Tomlin, Gloria Steinem, Shirley MacLaine, Katie Couric, and even the wife of Charles Schwab and Company’s ex-CEO! It may not be what you think, as we don’t share the same fortunes; what it is, in fact, is that we all share money anxieties. These women all admitted to having “bag lady syndrome.” And I’m afraid I might actually have a touch of it as well.  What is “bag lady syndrome” exactly? It’s this irrational fear of not having enough money. That maybe one day we’ll wake up and we won’t have quite enough to feed, clothe ourselves or put something over our heads. Maybe we’ll find ourselves holing up in our cars or even just loitering the streets. I’ll admit I feel this way only sometimes, but why do I feel it at all?" 

That blogger continued, and bingo, there I am...."I don’t think I necessarily have a pronounced case of this, although I am certain that my frugal habits stem from the need to store up, like a squirrel does its nuts, before the winter season hits. What I discovered though, was that despite making fairly good progress with our household’s financial plans and goals, any concerns I was harboring regarding having a “lack of resources” at any point in time may be due to my tendency to anticipate the future a little too dramatically. Because I try to ground myself in reality too much and realize how future changes in our lives can impact our current lifestyle and financial standing, I end up acting like the proverbial hoarding marsupial and have made this a way of life. I also have this terrible habit of catastrophizing too much thus leading myself to adapt certain behaviors that have been both good and bad for our plight. Good, in the sense that our conservative fiscal habits have earned us a stable foundation today, but bad, in the sense that unpleasant and sometimes irrational fears can cloud our decisions and just plain make us miserable."

She will not be able to keep up with us on the road and I cannot see her being welcomed inside.
 Here she is, even upscale with her baby carriage, instead of the normal shopping carts. 

Louisa Behrndt Week 64 Sepia Saturday (click here to go to the Sepia site)

Louise Behrndt and William Lemke

 This week I introduce Louise Behrndt, another of Charlie Behrndt's (Jerry's maternal Grandpa) sisters.  Louise  was born November 29, 1876 to Adelbert and Sophia, one of their eight surviving children and the third daughter.  Finding  her gorgeous wedding photo to William Lemke in about 1900  initiated my interesting journey accompanied by email exchanges with a generations times removed cousin of Jerry's whom he does not even know but who found me through Ancestry.com. She shares my passion for genealogy and history, so we have pieced information together and shared photos.  She'd not  seen this wedding photo and I'd not seen the newspaper clipping she had.   

Marriage to William for Louise meant moving over the hills and around the bend to his farm where they worked hard farming the land.  
They had two children William Ezra (1902-1983)  and Aleta, a daughter who died in infancy in 1905.  In 1906, when he was only 35, William was eating supper after working all day in the fields and choked on a prune pit.  The brief newspaper account has some gruesome  detail, along with the misspellings we have come to expect. Not only a sad death but freakish.  The  widow Louisa somehow kept the farm going for a time, likely with help from family, friends and hired hands but then moved back home with her parents.



Copied from Winona Daily Republican June 1906

 
In 1908 Louise  married her second husband,  a widower,  Albert Kletzke.  In my study of these families and this farm area, I note that it was common  for the same family names to reappear.  William Lemke's  ( Louise's first husband)  mother was Bertha Kletzke.  So far as we have been able to determine Albert was a distant cousin to William Lemke.  The life of the farmers centered around their  community  churches for social activities along with threshing and work parties.  So often when a spouse died there would be a distant relative of someone and I imagine the locals thrived on matching together widows and widowers.  

1917, About 1 year old,
 Charlotte

Albert and Louise had one daughter, Charlotte born in 1916.   Although Albert was quite well known in the area, and is mentioned prominently in an old  history of Houston County published in 1919, there are few  photos of  him but we had one, taken in 1923 at the gathering for her parents' golden wedding anniversary.  I've shared the Adelbert Behrndt's here  before, but here are Adelbert and Sophia again at their  50th amid two daughters Frances and Louise.  Albert Kletzke is the large man, with almost  head chopped off standing to the left in the back and Louise is standing on the far right, next to her sister Francis and  behind, her daughter, Charlotte.  There were many photos taken of the sisters and their husbands but I found none of Louise and Albert during this celebration  that lasted the entire weekend at the home farm.  The little girl standing in front to the left, Carol Jean Frey, is the daughter of Frances and her husband Philip who stands in the back between the two sisters.  Carol Jean looks like she is about done with the posing while little Charlotte  seems to be praying she keeps still.  
 

Besides being known as a prosperous farmer  Albert was the president of the small local telephone company and a share holder in the bank that was established in town. He was involved in many community activities and the local history book mentions him as a generous sort.  

 Louise survived Albert Kletzke, who died in 1933.  Here is Louise in 1930 with brother Charlie; she'd have been about 46. Her  once dark hair appears completely white or gray.  Louise lived to be 95, following the longevity of the Behrndts. 

We have an array of photos of Kletzke's daughter Charlotte who died in 1999 at age 82 and who married  Clarence Vanderohoe who died in 1992.  They had four daughters and two sons, some if not all of whom may be alive today.  Some may live in this area; I wonder what they know of their great grandmother Louise?    

Charlotte Kletzke Confirmation

As usual click on the title of this post, to go to the host Sepia Site and see what others have shared this week or what Alan has dug from arcives as our photo find of the week.

Charlie and Sorry

PS Afterthought, when I saw the long horn cattle Alan posted this Saturday I recalled this photo of Charlie Behrndt, with his "Sorry" goat; that was the goat's name after all....you can only imagine how longhorn cattle evoked this photo....

Reminiscing on the reason, season or lifetime

I've been thinking while busily scanning old photos and digging into genealogy research,  recalling  the verse I'd heard long ago about a Reason, Season, Lifetime.  I thought about some people I have known but no longer do, some friends, some professional acquaintances, some family all of whom I no longer have as contacts nor know whether  they are alive or dead.  Professional acquaintances used to be primarily important in my career days, but after retiring most of these fall by the wayside. I can count on both hands, the career acquaintances who remain a part of my life today and  morphed into lifelong friends; to the rest either they or myself have become absolutely irrelevant.  Today with email and Facebook, one would think it all the more easy to maintain contact, but I find it is not so...

And yet, another phenomena,  Facebook has reunited me with long ago friends from school and my old neighborhood of childhood days.  Friends with whom I'd lost connection as our lives diverged and mine away to California from Pennsylvania,  but real friends whom I see on trips to PA; lasting friendships where s a gap of over 35 years is merely another thing to catch up on, those friends with whom I talk and visit just like it was only yesterday. 

 

1992 Judy in PA

 



On the other hand, there are those who have just faded out of my life , like some old photograph.  My stepsister, Judy Degnan Shondeck , Barney's daughter, someone I enjoyed when  we met in adulthood.  Judy remained in contact through Mom's illness and a year after her death, and then nothing.  I tried to reconnect to her with cards but no response.  I recall Judy suffered moodiness, according to Mom, something I recognized as dire depressions; Judy  never recovered from the grief of the tragic death of her 19 year old son, Craig,  in Mexico in 1987, nor the death of her mother to whom she felt very close and I suspect her divorce left a scar too.  Well I know something about grief, but realize  life moves on with or without us, reflecting on Mom's mantra, "life is for the living."   So last fall while in PA I called Judy's son, David, who remembered me and promised to tell his Mom, but still no response.  If you look closely at Judy you can see the pervasive sadness she carries. Lack of contact with Judy, saddens me.  On one trip, Judy drove us to Canonsburg to eat at Sardi's where the ice cream is served with a  delicious candy coating.  Better yet, Canonsburg, the hometown to Perry Como,  is  an antique haven where I found the set of depression ware plates matching the pieces I had from my Grandmother Rose. That was a humorous escapade where despite loud admonitions from Mom and aunt Jinx to me "Don't you buy any junk" I could not resist buying  Amber Rose of Sharon pattern dishes which the proprietor shipped safely  to me in CA.  In 2004, when Mom died Judy was right there.  When we cleaned out Mom's home I gave Judy  many items she wanted; one was my very own poodle circle skirt from teen time and  the white lace dress might have belonged to my Grandmother, but Judy admired it and said she would have it on a mannequin in her home.  I left behind more things for Judy and David including a painting that David remembered as always being on the wall on the couch, the only thing David asked for but decided not to take with him the day they were at the house as he felt they had enough.  Too bad because, although I  left specific instruction that the items were for Judy and David, they never got them.  After I left PA and my greedy ex-half brother took over. I was not the only one he cheated on that estate.  Perhaps this upset Judy but the last time we talked in 2005 she'd  had forgotten all about it.  The Christmas cards stopped and then all contact, so that she is a memory today.

Roberta and Charlie Valla 2001

In California I lost and mourned  my best friend, Roberta Valla, a true friend I met in 1975 at work,  who died unexpectedly and suddenly in  2002, too soon after she'd retired.  I could  write a chapter in my book about Roberta and maybe I'll get to that someday, but she's not the one that vanished although she is not on this earth. To each other, we were the sisters that neither of us ever had.  I spoke her eulogy at her funeral and her husband, Charlie presented me with the crucifix from her coffin at the gravesite.  After the funeral Charlie insisted I visit their home in Vacaville where to my amazement he'd laid out on the table all of Roberta's valuable jewelry which he said was for me.  They'd  never had children and there was "no one else" no relatives and Charlie assured me  Roberta wanted me to have all  this warning him to give me the entire lot.  I think about her every time I wear a piece;  one black hills gold necklace in particular is my favorite as she wore it the last time we had lunch.   True to Roberta she had these in an old brown cardboard raggedy box amongst rags, where she was certain a burglar would never look if their home was ever broken into.  We remained  in touch with Charlie and he'd visited us in Newcastle.  Then suddenly mysteriously contact stopped; he changed their unlisted phone number.  Cards and letters I sent were not returned so I suspect they were delivered  and that he still lived there.  I wondered if one of the church widow women who had their eye on Charlie, immediately after Roberta's passing had not snagged him; he'd have been in his mid to late 60's and so a catch for some single woman.  Still, I find it odd that Charlie would drop all contact and I wonder if he survived or became ill.  Odd to hear nothing. 

Debbie Erickson was a close friend in CA through commutes to Sacramento, Rose Society and teatimes.  Debbie was a "spinster" (if you knew her you'd agree she epitomized that  old fashioned term and in fact was something of an anachronism in dress and lifestyle)  and lived with her parents on the family farm  in Penryn where she enjoyed her horses and mules on her off hours as well as growing beautiful roses.  We did a lot together, Auburn season symphony tickets, tea times, antiquing, or thrifting.   It was great to have Debbie in for tea where I could make dainty sandwiches and my favorite butternut squash soup, which Jerry disdained but Debbie and I enjoyed.   Debbie especially was fond of Jerry who was the only person she trusted for maintenance on her big chevy truck that was an essential to haul the horse trailer.  We began to lose touch when she went to the train to commute and I remained with the van and then went to the bus.  She did know we were moving to MN and promised to take the train to visit sometime.  I last heard from her Christmas, 2005 but then all contact stopped, vanished gone.  I learned when I was in CA in 2008 that her mother had died, that might have affected her badly as they were very close.  She was several years younger than me and would not have yet retired.  The phone number I had has changed, none listed and not a clue as to what happened.  She had two brothers living in CA, one a highway patrol officer and the other worked for a state tax agency. I don't think I even have a photo of Debbie.

 

Sharon Mikus in our motor home in 2008

There's my 2nd cousin, Sharon who found me in about 2000 online when we lived in CA, as the previously unknown link to the family of her father, an Ostrowski, and people she never knew.  Sharon and her husband Joe Mikus  live in PA and we'd always visit on our trips there. Joe visited us first in Newcastle, Ca when he came out to see his brother in the area.   But in 2009 she stopped returning phone calls and  has not responded to cards, calls, emails, nothing.  I know she receives them and the e-card sent on her birthday was opened, so?   

 

I hope all these people are well and happy.  There are a few  others and maybe someone thinks this about me, why did she stop responding, though  I doubt that because I am known to say "wat's up."  If I dwelt on this and had not thought of the Reason and Season philosophy I might begin to wonder if I'd done something offensive but I'm reasonably confident I have not and so I can just let it go.  Still for some reason these thoughts  surface and so what better way to let them meander than here on my blog. This is not about those who die but those who fade off.  Do you have any relationships like this?  Meantime, I am grateful for Lifetimers,  recent and long timers.  

  

                                   Reason, Season or Lifetime   by    Author Unknown

• People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

• When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on.

 

•  When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.

 

• LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (anyway); and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

 

•   It was never easy, and it didn’t get easier as time went by. There may have been tears, followed by sadness, and sometimes just a deep feeling of loneliness. You keep in contact for awhile and then one day one of you just stops writing. There was no fight, no reason, you both just stopped. I learned that friends come and go, and your life goes on

Meet Milton Sepia Saturday 63 (Click here to Access Sepia Site)

I amused myself for several hours researching this photo and Milton this darling small boy from  Jerry's side. Milton has been a  mystery for awhile among photos from Jerry's mother, who as I mentioned before collected things from everyone.  I thought it a neat pose, reminiscent of the RCA Victor Label.  A little  guy with a dog, how precious.  The handwriting on the bottom is from Aunt Marie and merely identifies him as a cousin.  The last name Steager was unfamiliar but all the genealogy research and plugging I've done led me along to solve this mystery.  .


Here is the back side, another post card,  mailed in 1910 to Jerry's Grandmother, signed by Clara.  It must have been quite common in the late 1800's and early 1900's to have postcard photos taken.  Perhaps there were itinerant photographers who produced these at a reasonable fee; this is something I intend to research as I have become quite curious about why so many had photos on postcards.

Clara Behrndt Steger
About 1931

The last name Steager meant nothing and the name Milton was not ringing a bell, but as there is already quite an extensive ancestral tree on the Behrndts on my Ancestry.com pages, I looked for a Clara, who turns out to be another of Charlie Behrndt's sisters.  Aha, sure enough, Clara Behrndt, a grand aunt about whom we know little,  married Michael Steiger and they moved to Minneapolis. That is about 125 miles from the home area and in those days that distance wasn't easily traveled, so she likely was not a frequent visitor to home.   Michael was a laborer and farmer and at one point left the wife and kids to work on a farm in South Dakota.  Notice the spelling of that last name, it changed several times over the years....

  

The Steigers became Steager and then in the 1910 census the spelling changed to Steger which the entire family adopted and used, except for Michael who would end up with the spelling Stegar!  Whew, name changes were not confined to my Polish relatives; even the pioneer settler families experienced the same phenomena, to say nothing of those living in the "big cities" such as Minneapolis at the time! 

Milton was the third son of Michael and Clara , born in 1909 so the above would be a photo of him at one year.  There were two other boys, Ellis and Russell and a daughter, Lucille.  All are deceased and it appears that none married and left no survivors. Milton died in 1989. 

The 1920 census gave strange information as Ellis  is identified there as a daughter!  Think of it,  in 1920 he's  either the first in the family to have a sex change operation or the census worker really messed up!   Because this is the only time Ellis has been identified as female, we think it was another census mistake.  I did not notice this error  until I  began researching Milton; then I noticed two Ellis in the family a boy and a girl born the same time.  Wait a minute, no one would name twins the same!   So that error is now cleaned up on the tree. 

By 1930 something happened  to Michael who was no longer in the household.  We laugh that perhaps Clara learned Michael had reported a son as a daughter so she tossed him out on his ear!  (You see how one can speculate when we don't know the details!  An active imagination is so much fun!)  The 1930 census shows Clara as head of the household  and now a home worker; all four children ages  24 through 18 remain living with her.  Milton, "her rascal" has become a machinist, Ellis a laborer, and Russell an assembler in the iron works, while Lucille is a seamstress and dressmaker.  After more probing, I found Michael now spelling his last name Stegar, living  about two blocks away from the family in a boarding home and working as a paper hanger.  

This is my Sepia for this week, to see other interesting posts in this international community click on the title to this post to go to the host site. 

Sepia Saturday Week 62 1907 Postcard

Despite the genealogy research I've done on Jerry's side, I cannot identify these people as relatives  but  here they are in this  old 1907  photo/post card which Aunt Marie had saved.  They are from this MN area, and from the era when a postcard was mailed to stay in touch with family, rather than phoning or driving the miles.  So different from today where we'd pick up the phone, drive that distance without  any thought and/or use email. 

This card was mailed to Charles Behrndt, Jerry's Grandpa, from Lottie, who was Charlie's sister.  The mystery people are identified by the writing  along side of the card as Gib (or Gil) Dolan, Anna Noel, Lena Noel, and Mary Dolan.  It looks as though they were out for a hike through the woods and/or were clearing land. Their clothes do not appear to be what one would wear to do work on the land, at least not the women's.  I see no evidence of a picnic in process, just looks like they stopped, sat on the ground and had the photo taken.  It will be a mystery to solve and learn what link is this to Charlotte (Lottie)  who married Otto Ziemann, as I have previously shared here.  When Lottie sent this card she and Otto were likely  living in Preston  where the  1910 census shows them; Preston is  about 60 miles  south west of La Crescent, where Charlie was settled. For some reason she thought her brother  would be interested, but she did not write anything on the back side.  Otto was a meat wholesaler and traveled through northern MN and was also a  butcher, so I doubt this is land that the Ziemann's had cleared for a home.  They lived in what was the town at the time and  she taught school.   It seems unusual to me to see one man and three women if this was land to be cleared to farm or to build.  What do you think?


1907 from Lottie

 This is the back of the postcard showing it was mailed from Preston but in 1907 there were no  highways and so visits and trips were not routine.  I wonder  why Lottie sent this photo to her brother with no other information.  In the funeral books of Charles and his wife, Esther many years later, there are Noel's who  sign the guest book.  There must have been some connection.  It is also amusing that it could be addressed to Charlie in La Crescent which had a population of maybe a few hundred at the time among the hills and farms and that the card would easily reach the addressee.   

Jerry laughs and says he has not a clue and if I want to spend time trying to solve this well, then he  figures it keeps me from pestering him. 

As always click on the title to this post to go to the Sepia site and see what others in the community have shared this week. 

Curtisville PA Sepia Saturday 61 (Click here to the Sepia site)

I browsed my  collection and could not find a single photo of a silo to match Alan's this week.  Today we see silos all over on farms in this area, but in the older photos from Jerry's family no one thought to capture a silo. 

However while looking, I found these two photos from 1910 and 1920 in Curtisville, PA as featured in the Valley News Dispatch in 1990's  which my Uncle Carl had kept.  Carl was born in Curtisville, one of the many  coal mining towns where the family lived; today all those towns are the area that is known as West Deer.

I hope this horse was  the trotting  type else the milk might have been warm on delivery routes.

On the same page was this photo of mail delivery, the Railroad sign, "Stop, Look and Listen" reflects the care given to crossing near the railroad lines.  And that looks like a big load of mail being delivered or sent out by the men.   

I have shared this photo before in writing about Uncle Carl, but here is a photo outside his  school in about 1929-30.  He will be 93 on March 18 and will be honored with a birthday  party in the assisted living center.

As always click on the title to this post to get to the Sepia Saturday site from where you can link to see what others are sharing this week and check out Alan's featured silo.

January Reads Three Books

Three books I read in January:

I grew up hearing about the great Johnstown Flood of May 31, 1889  from family and school history classes; it was the most tragic event  anyone had ever encountered  or heard of in times reflective of industrial growth, a flood that destroyed a town and the area, a disaster that  was never to be forgotten. Somehow, despite my lifetime of reading many of the twice Pulitzer Prize winning author, David McCullough's books, I'd  missed this one, from 1968 so when I found it on the discount shelf at Barnes and Noble, into my purchase stack it went.  McCullough wrote this over 268 pages in a documentary style with the precision and  detail we expect from this wonderful social historian.  All those lost or killed in the flood are memorialized in the book.  It is a  portrait of life in  19th century America, the westward expansion of the country and in the Pittsburgh Pennsylvania area, which  was a booming coal and steel town populated by hard working families, many of whom were immigrants. There is a fascinating description of the building of the railroads over the mountains and the use of levers.   It was the time of certain class division, the haves and the have nots; in contrast to the coal miners and steel workers were the tycoons, great contemporaries Andrew Carnegie, Henry Clay Frick and Andrew Mellon.  Johnstown  is in the Allegheny mountains about 60 miles south east of Pittsburgh; construction of Pennsylvania's historic canals, arrival of the Pennsylvania railroad in  the 1850's and the establishment of the Cambria Iron Company led to the boom of Johnstown which before had been a short stop on the way west.   By 1889 there were  nearly 30,000 people living in the boroughs of the  Johnstown valley.  (Today many of  PA areas are referred to as boroughs, I love that word. ) In the mountains above Johnstown, an old earthen  dam was rebuilt to create a lake for an exclusive summer resort, the South Fork Fishing and  Hunting Club privately owned and  patronized by the tycoons from Pittsburgh.  Despite warnings and skepticism about the safety of the dam, nothing was done. People came to accept that the dam could burst and the town could go, they thought nothing of it.   Then came the storm  moving in from the west from Kansas, Nebraska,  Indiana, unceasing rain, run over rives and on May 31, 1889 when the dam burst and the wall of water thundered down the mountains smashing through Johnstown and killing more than 2000 people.  It was a tragedy that became a national scandal but which also provided the first domestic mobilization of the Red Cross under Clara Barton.  People living  through this really thought it was the end of the world and if the devastation of the  flood waters did not do them in, the  following devastation from fire and epidemics did. 

This is a book for historians and sociologically  or geographically interested readers with bits of humor spicing up the data, photos, sketches and  presentations.   It is amazing to  see the poor quality of the photos from then and more amazing that there were any.  One photo in the book jogged my memory immediately as I recognized the familiar famous photo shown through the early 1960's in PA over the years of my youth, the tree spearing the house.  Here it is in the bottom photo of a page I scanned from the book.   Click on the photo to enlarge it and read about the scene.

I enjoyed this description of Dr. Robert Jackson's founding of a town before the Civil War on pg. 45...."The main attractions at Cresson, aside from the mountain air and scenery, were the iron springs, the best-known of which was the Ignatius Spring, named after the venerable huntsman, Ignatius Adams who first discovered its life- preserving powers and whose ghost was said still to haunt the place.....by  drinking this water, dwelling in the woods, and eating venison, Ignatius lived nearly to the good old age of 100 years...Jackson was against whiskey, slavery, and what he called the present tendency to agglomerate in swarms or accumulate in masses and mobs.  Those gregarious instincts which now impel this race to fix its hopes of earthly happiness on city life alone, would, he was convinced, be the undoing of the race.  Life in the country was the answer to practically every one of man's ills...."  I suspect  Dr Jackson would consider our modern mega cities proof of the decline of the human race! 

As I read I wondered about the liability of the tycoons and the resort owners for the failure of that dam; they were not the original builders but they did perform some adjustments.  I learned on pg. 259 that  the few lawsuits that were filed against the club were all futile.  Certainly not what would happen in today's litigious society and sympathetic courts.  McCullough raises this question too speculating that by today's standards, courts and awards to plaintiffs would have been immeasurable and would have changed the industrial growth of the United States.  

In  the concluding pages McCullough summarizes the Johnstown disaster (pg. 262) "while there is no question that an act of God  (the storm) brought on the disaster, there is also no question that it was in the last analysis, mortal man who was truly to blame. And if the men of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, as well as the men of responsibility in Johnstown, had in retrospect looked dispassionately to themselves, and not to their stars to find the fault, they would have seen that they had been party to two crucial mistakes.  In the first place they had tampered drastically with the natural order of things and had done so badly.  They had ravaged much of the mountain country's protective timber, which caused dangerous flash runoff following mountain storms; they obstructed and diminished the capacity of the rivers; and they had bungled the repair and maintenance of the dam.  Perhaps worst of all, they had failed--out of indifference mostly --to comprehend the possible  consequences of what they were doing....one New England newspaper wrote: the lesson of the flood is that the catastrophies of Nature have to be regarded in the structures of man as well as its ordinary laws....The point is that if man for any reason drastically alters the natural order, setting in motion whole series of chain reactions, then he had better know what he is doing.. What is more, the members of the club and most of Johnstown went along on the assumption that the people who were responsible for their safety were behaving responsibly.  And this was the second great mistake."    I added this bold face because it is a statement to caution us today, how do we know when people in positions of responsibility are  really behaving responsibly despite our  24/7 media?   The Johnstown Flood is another of those books that generates pondering as well as informing. 

A friend recommended the high paced, fiction, political intrigue/action books by Vince Flynn as something I might enjoy and I finally did pick up one which will not be the last, when I want to read action.  The paperback , "Transfer of Power" introduces Mitch Rapp, a new CIA operative in counter terrorism, someone who has been around the bend more than once. It reminded me of the TV series hero, Jack Bauer on "24".  In this thriller terrorists have taken possession of the White House, the president has been evacuated to the safe bunker and the vice president is in charge. Rapp is dispatched with an old timer to access entry unbeknown to the terrorists who are holding hostages and killing them.  I avidly turned all 549 pages and have added Vince Flynn to my Facebook likes. Having a career in  state government though not in espionage I laughed at and recognized this author's descriptions reflecting accurate perceptions.  Pg. 130, "After several minutes, Rapp conclude that no one in Baxter's  group knew their head from their ass, and in the process of coming to this conclusion, he also discovered a correlation between their opinions and the conviction with which they stated them.  It seemed that the less someone knew, the more forcefully he tried to state his case."   

My friend told me that the author has consulted with the government's  counter terrorism teams on request.   This is double the action of the old James Bond which I read so long ago.  I wonder why there have been no movies made of these Flynn novels, however they would not be near the delight held in the reading.   I found a lot of information about the author on the web/Wikipedia showed that he  lives  here in MN!  How have I missed this..."  best-selling American author of political thriller novels. He lives with his wife and three children in the Twin Cities. He is a frequent guest on the Glenn Beck news program on the Fox News Channel.  He also served as a story consultant for the fifth season of the 24 television series.  Flynn is a graduate of Saint Thomas Academy (1984) and the University of St. Thomas (Minnesota) (1988). Post graduation, Flynn went to work for Kraft Foods as an account and sales marketing specialist. In 1990, he left Kraft to pursue a career as an aviator with the United States Marine Corps. One week before leaving for Officer Candidate School, he was medically disqualified from the Marine Aviation Program.  In an effort to overcome the difficulties of dyslexia, Flynn forced himself into a daily writing and reading regimen. Quotes Flynn: "I started reading everything I could get my hands on, Hemingway, Ludlum, Clancy, Tolkien, Vidal. I read fiction, nonfiction, anything, but I especially loved espionage."  His newfound interest in such novels motivated him to begin work on a novel of his own. While employed as a bartender in the St. Paul area, he completed his first book, Term Limits, which he then self-published.  "   Well no wonder it reminded me of Jack Bauer!  I will be supporting this local author whom I learned of from a CA friend!

My third and last book completed in January is "The Sea" by John Banville; a book I picked up at a sale because the cover called to me, the synopsis of the story sounded good and  the writing appeared exceptional.  I knew nothing about the book nor the author. This book was one I read in segments, often leaving it sit for weeks, although it was only 195 pages, short enough, yet it is so lyrical in  choice of writing and almost difficult to read.  Maybe it's because the author is Irish and used many words with which I was not familiar, but  which so intrigued me that I held a dictionary nearby.  Often the words were not in the American dictionary sending me to the Oxford Annotated. Words like revenant, leporine, strangury, proscenium, recreant, marmoreal, integuement and more.... Now that is not usually the way I like to read, but this book kept calling me back.  The story overall is melancholy, about  Max Morden, a widower, middle aged Irishman who returns to a seaside town where he spent summers as a child to quell his grief.  He reminisces about the Graces a wealthy family he met as a boy and a family through which he experiences his first love and encounters death for the first time.  At times reading this, I wondered why he persistently switched back and forth between then and now, but I kept on and was more than rewarded with the outcome and the surprise ending. 

Just a few select quotes, to give a taste for the writing:  Pg. 164  "Memory dislikes motion preferring to hold things still."    Pg. 47, "Claire snuffled and delving in a pocket brought out a handkerchief and stentorously blew her nose...It depends I said mildly on what you mean by suffering. "  Pg. 48, "  What is it about such people that makes me remember them?  His look was unctuous yet in some way minatory.  Perhaps I had been expected to tip him also, as I say: this world."    It is a book that I would not recommend to anyone for light reading, but it is the most beautifully written mystical book I have read in years.  It was a trip into reading wonderful literature, for which this author is  known.  I'd never had read nor known of this book if I did not browse book sales wherever I find them.