A while since I've seen this file

For a period of time in our lives Deb and I had fun listening to Garrison Keillor. For those of you that have not been exposed to him he does a radio program called a Prairie Home Companion.  He is about 70 now and has written lots of stories. Many of them are about a fictional town by the name of Lake Wobegon in Minnesota.  On several occasion I have played  him and written a radio program and performed it with other people. I think the times I have done this have been for different church gatherings.  Last Sunday somebody asked if I could find one of these old writings.

Upstairs in a file I have poems, stories, plays and just about every other crazy thing you can think of that I have written and read or performed over all of these years.  I kind of retired from this about 10 years ago.  What happens is that when you do something like these you get kind of sick of them by the time you read them or perform them.  For this reason I got in to the bad habit of writing these on the way to the event and this started to cause some family arguments.  Deb would always have to drive and I would be furiously writing.  Another problem is that she would often worry that I would go a little over the line and that some church guy or lady would be offended.  Most of this stuff went pretty well, a couple of disasters, but I will tell you when you do anything like this you take this risk.  I did just get them out and read some of them  and I must confess found myself laughing a little at a few things I had forgotten.  Now that is really sick, laughing at your own junk.

I want to share one of these old things It was written in the year 2000.  At that time "rap" was popular.  The church was having some sort of social event around Valentines day. Some of the stuff may not be understood so let me frame it just a little.  There was a large concern that at the turning of the clock of the year 2000 that computers were going to shut down all systems. People were buying stuff to make sure they had supplies after the turn of the clock.  Paper, travel, food and everything else seemed to be part of the concern.  The writing is a dialog between myself and a volunteer from the audience.  I had Jackie DeGroot come up and help with the reading. Then Norm Donkersloot supply the rap beat with mouth sounds. (We had practiced this and he knew how to do this) There was a little kid by the name of Illian in Cuba that was getting some press. Jerry Falwell was complaining about a kids cartoon called the Telletubies saying they were gay. We were designing a new sanctuary for the church. Our pastors were Marlin Vis and Larry Terlouw.  The dialog is talking abut the possibility that the world will be OK but the church might get kind of messed up with Y-2-K problems.  I lost the first page of this thing so let pick it up here. The first page told about some of the preparations people were making to deal with the coming disaster.

It is I who think in a more optimistic tone
Some body will forget the bills I own
Y-2-K will make us politically serene
Let me tell you now exactly what I mean
Clinton is not telling no more lies
Russ's is still selling lots of apple pies
The Telletubbies even have all gone straight
Jerry Falwell  seems to feel just great
Monica has learned to hang on to here duds
Clinton and Starr have become great buds
Saddam will make a trip to the USA
All this will happen in Y2K
But do not believe everything you hear
Now we come out with our greatest fear
Beechwood Church is what make us nervous
Without our computer how we gonna run our service
The young at heart will forget how to bake        (our churches old people group)
They will want draft beer like Our Lady of the Lake  (local Catholic church with a beer tap)
The pastor sermons would all be deleted
The finances will all be depleted
The orchestra would find a part for another tuba  (we had three tubas at that time)
Missions would bring Illian back from Cuba
Marlin and Larry won't know who is preaching
Childrens worship won't know who is teaching
And what we gonna do we will surely fail
If we can't send everyone all that mail
We will all walk around like a bunch of clones
When our bell tower starts playing some rolling Stones
No more music we will need to plagiarize
We are all going to have it all memorized
Marlin will start preaching one hour sermons
Bonhoffer quotes will all be in German
Church will be dull just plain no fun
No more quotes from William Willomont
Our church nurse will announce her new plans
To give every man free prostate exams
You see this is really a terrible virus
The bulletins will all be printed on Papyrus
Our new Sanctuary designed on Nova-gate
Will end up looking like an apple crate

Nothing happened it was just a big dud
The whole thing went by without a thud
Lake Mac's a little low a huge water loss
Soon maybe the Israelites will be able to cross
Not much else to mention nothing left to say
Does anyone remember this thing called Y-2-K

Sorry to the readers out there who do not know much about Beechwood but I thought some of this stuff might bring back some memories about what was going on at that time.  How about next time some pretty crazy stuff........I will pack away the old stuff and tell you about some new........Thanks for reading.......

Stan the Man

There is a Story in the Fire

Last Saturday afternoon I decided to attend an event at the local library. It was put on by a pro author and it was very well done. She was famous and she was a teacher, a PhD in writing. In the seminar she talked about  perfecting writing by using a system.  She talked about the purpose of writing and some common mistakes people make. Questions like, are you writing for others or for yourself? What do you want your style to be etc. etc.  I went back after the class and read a few of these blogs and was kind of sad to find that
 I really am not able to identify any style. I am not sure I am doing these for myself  or others. The next time I sat down to write I got kind of stuck thinking about all this stuff.  Perhaps the only style I can identify is what I might call the "drip method".  This is a style that was not even one she had on the page. What happens is that as thoughts come to mind, my fingers move and words kind of drip out on to the page.  I will leave the pro writing to others but for now I want to tell you a little about Alden. At least let me get a little creative and reverse the order.  Here it goes.......

Ever had an interesting night? One that you can immerse yourself in. A moment that makes you feel something that you are just not able to feel at any other time. We kinda had one of those nights last weekend.  My son Alden had a big party "gathering" at his home in Grand Rapids.  He had invited one of the more interesting groups of people. The kitchen was full of foreign languages.  A pork was being roasted and a couple of turkeys.  The food was plentiful and people just kept showing up. And oh yes he did have a few "milkshakes" on hand.  People would come and go, they would flow in and out.  I nice fall night that fit in between the raindrops and just kind of worked out.  His buddy Todd had loaned to him a portable fire pit and his father in law, Walt, had brought down a few sticks of wood.  As they burned and moldered in to the night air I sat there and watched them.  For about ten minutes I watched the flames and it was during this time that I thought of our son Alden. Please permit me to relay a few moments of our experience and life with Alden.

It was just two weeks before that my son invited me to spend a day of fishing with him on the Pier Marquette River. Over the years he has adopted this hobby and now he really knows what he is doing.  He has a good friend, Dave, that owns a boat and shares his passion for fishing.  We started at 7 in the morning and quit at 8 at night and we hooked about 40 of the strongest fish  (large Salmon) I have ever encountered. Watching  these guys handle this river (and Alden's inexperienced fishing father) was one of the neater happenings I have been involved in.

It was not long before that that we attended a wedding.  It was held in the small town of Leeland.  My Dad performed the ceremony, my son Ross and daughter in law did the music and Alden and Mary had a wonderful wedding celebration.  As I watched the fire last night I recalled these events and kind of saw them over again. Alden and Mary were now together and for us that was a dream. Her family put on a nice wedding. It was a cold day in August but the warmth of the wedding  event overcame the cold day.

It was just 2 1/2 years before that.  We had a bunch of young people came to our house for dinner. At that time Alden and 4 girls came over. It was on this night that I said to Alden.  "There is one person at that table that is really special.  I have two words for you, marry Mary".  He did not listen all that much but it did work out this way after several year of them insisting that they were just friends.  That night and still today Mary has the attribute of being one of the easiest people to be around that we have ever known. 

It was not long before that Alden was competing for the Golf Title of the State. I had always planned to caddy for him some day in the US Open. I could kind of see he and I receiving the trophy.  He would kind of hold it up and he would  point out that his father told him about how to do his grip and stance.  It did not work out this way but I still think it could have.  I am not sure if he liked the game of golf all that much.  I will tell you that when he wants, he can really play the game.  But I think he did it more for me than for him. He now spreads his time out between many other endeavors.

It was not many years before that that we were picking out his name.  We had a guy who went to our church and his name was Alden.  I said to Deb, I really like that name and I like the guy. He ran a large bank and I wanted to choose this name for our new son.  Alden is now known by some as Talden.  He stands about 6'5". He looks a little like the man we named him after.

It was just shortly before that. We sat in an office and reviewed his ultrasound with a doctor.  The doctor told us our new son would most likely be OK  His birth took place on December 10, 1983. I came down to the nursery that night and there was one kid who was holding his head up above the bed and trying to look around.  He looked like he was going to be quite a man. As I watched the fire in his back yard last night, I visited with our family and Mary's family.  In think one of the reasons he went to all the work is so that his Mom and I could share this time with all the family and friends.  A good time was had by all.


And allow me the next time to tell you about another move, another place, a few more stories and a little more about how there can be some humor in the storms of life.... Until then...............

Stan the Man

May I Paint a Picture?

The next time I write I want to detail our story of the birth of our second living son Alden. I must tell you that this time I feel a little down in the dumps. Deb had kind of a tough day today. She fell asleep watching the Tiger game. The score is tied 2-2 and for her to fall asleep when it is this close lets me know that she is hurting and tired.  Please allow me to tell a few things that I recall from the early days of my life.  I am sure we all have some stories. Here are a few of mine.  I want to frame this by saying that some of the readers of these stories have commented on my vivid memories of these events.  Let me describe it this way.  I used to play a trombone.  It was nothing more than a bunch of work for me.  I had a hard time coming in at the right place.  I played for a short time in a small orchestra with Ross. One time I looked over and observed how he handled this. He made it seem easy. I asked him one time how he did this and he told me that when they set a piece of music in front of him he sees it like a picture.  I never saw music this way but somehow there are some things in my life that have kind of embedded a picture in my mind. They seem to never go away.  This post is about several of those pictures.

My dad was awarded a scholarship to study at the Free University of Amsterdam and our young family packed our belongings in 55 gallon drums and set sail on a ship called the USS Amsterdam. In those days airplane travel was way more expensive and not all that safe. I remember the trip to be about  6 days. I vaguely remember the Statute of Liberty as we sailed out and then a reasonably pleasant trip of what seemed to a  small kid, a pretty big ocean.  The arrival in Rotterdam and the trip to Amsterdam are forgotten but the trip up to our sixth floor apartment in an old movie type elevator is still with me.  Then the walking trip the next morning to a Dutch school about 6 blocks away.  Standing outside with about 100 other kids with our dad holding the hand of 2 really scared American boys.  In the Dutch language the name for a female teacher is Juffvrouw and the name for a bicycle is "fiets". (pronounced feets) The kids looked down the street and a few started to alert us. "Hier komt de Juff." (pronounced yuff) Most of the bikes had a little assist motor on the front wheel so they called them a "bromfiets."  In other words a bike that went brom. (pronounced brum) De-Juff was smoking a cigarette and popped the front wheel of the bromviets over the curb. She jammed the thing in a bike rack and looked at my dad and asked "Ben jij de vader de Amerikannse yougens dat ik de leraar worden" (Are you the father of the American boys of which I am to be the teacher.)   My dad said ya.  Then he asked he asked de-juff  "Ken je engles?"  (Can you speak English) and she said ya.  Now I want to tell you that the word "ya" was all she knew. The next thing I knew my brother and I  were sitting in a room with about 30 kids in Kortabroek (short pants) and listening to de-juff teach the lessons.

It is amazing that when young people are exposed non-stop to a foriegn language. It only takes about 3 weeks to learn what is going on and about 6 weeks to be talking it in the house.  I do recall that at the front of every desk was a "inktpot." A small pot of ink about 1/12" in diameter and 3"s deep. You would dip your pen in these things and write your assignment. Somehow one day I had a tooth come out and it found its way to the bottom of the inktpot and de-juff had to fish it out.  She told me "you drop geen tanden meer in deze inkt pot en ze blijven op de bodem" (you drop any more teeth in here and they stay in the bottom.)  I could go on and on but these are a few of the events. I can still see like a picture. I have a bunch more but I will not bore you with them.

We were there for about 2 years. By the time we were done we spoke in Dutch and thought in Dutch. On the way home on the USS Rotterdam we ran in to a large Atlantic storm.  Seeing this from the eyes of a 9 year old I can recall the sea and the sky became one (all black) and I can see the bow of the boat totally being submersed in one Atlantic wave after another. My dad did not think we would make it home and he still talks about this up to this day.  The crew of the boat was worried as well.  It was on the inbound way to the New York harbor that I do recall sighting the Statute of Liberty. I now understand the feelings of people who immigrated to this country years ago on equipment even smaller than we sailed on. The November trip was 14 days and I have since never put my foot on a boat longer than what would go out for a one hour trip on Lake Michigan.

Harry Truman was once criticized for saying the word crap in some of his news conferences. He told the media that it had taken his wife 14 years to get him to use this word over the one he had used before.  When we got back to the States I found myself in the classroom of the best teacher I have ever had.  I think 50% of all my learning was done in this room. His name was Mr Browning.  I think all of us get about three real good teachers in our lives and for me he was a the top of the list.  I had to write a paper on geology one day and he handed it back the next with a big fat D on the top right hand corner. I  looked at the grade and somehow used the original Harry Truman version of the word crap.  I found myself at the blackboard about three hours after class writing 100 times these words.  "I, Stanley Hoksbergen, a judicious young member of the species homo-sapiens have committed a grievous error in the area of social conduct.  This error involves the slander and disregard of human emotion and proper human behavior and relates to the use of a four letter word that has never belonged in the dialect of intelligent human beings."  I wrote that baby out 100 times.

I can still see it like a picture.....When I am in a better mood.....When Deb is feeling a little better let me write the next chapter.......Until then let the words you use be all good ones....

Stan the Man

Low notes and High notes

I am going to start this post with a low note and I am going to end on a high one. I am not sure that all of these qualify that much for the humor theme. Please let this one float someplace in the middle. It has some storm and some sun.

It seemed that is was not long before we had to go through another event of losing an infant. It was pretty much the same way it happened before. In those days they did not have the testing that they do now.  Although Deb and I remained optimistic that the pregnancy of our second child had some good signs it was also true that there were some concerns.  This time a little girl was born and we named her Megan Leigh.  A life of about 3 ½ hours was all that we had.   Somehow we were a little more prepared.  We conducted a family service and buried the baby right next to Jason Brandon, our first.  In a way the emotion of the event hit us even harder than the first time.  In addition to the sadness of the loss was the fact that evidence brought forward the thought that we may not ever have children.  Allow me to share an event that at the time of its occurrence did not seem comfortable to me.  We had a small family funeral. The baby was prepared and displayed in a small casket.  Deb’s father again helped us with this.  Deb asked her dad if she could hold the baby.  He expressed that this is a common occurrence and request from mothers who have experienced such a loss.  Deb spent some time doing this.  I mention this now for only one reason.  In the event that any of the readers experience a similar loss either as a parent, grandparent or friend, please know that this is a common emotion and can assist in the grieving process for a mother.  It meant a lot to Deb to be able to do this.  Many years have gone by and it still hurts to relay the events but this is how it all took place.

Thereafter, we went through some pretty extensive genetic testing and the results indicated that 1out of 2 children we would have would have this condition.  Given these odds and the history of our case it was decided to attempt one more time.  We did find out about some test that could be performed in the earlier stages of pregnancy.  We also found that U of M had a doctor who was experienced in this area.   At around the 4 month point of the next pregnancy, and after many test, he consulted with us and I recall what he said.  He told us that he could not insure that our next baby would be healthy but he could tell us that it did not have Potters Syndrome as did the 2 previous.  It was with quiet and anxious anticipation that Deb went through the last 5 months of the pregnancy and the day finally arrived for the trip to Sparrow Hospital for the big event.

We were anxious enough that even the slightest hint of a contraction sent us down the road to the hospital. (maybe more accurate to say I rather than we)  The first time was a false alarm but the next night we had the real deal.  I took my place in the chair as Deb by this time was used to me not being very effective in the baby bearing business.  I remember her saying to me “you sit there and you watch while I have this baby”.  She has always been a very strong person as she endures medical events of any kind. This remains true today.  It was not very long and appeared what looked to be a strong baby.  A few anxious seconds after birth came one of the most blood curdling cries I had ever heard. With it came what I think still today remains one of the most happy moments of our lives.  Seconds later Ross Nathan was placed in Deb’s arms.  Tears flowed down Deb’s cheeks and mine to the point that I suggested to her that we did not want to drown this baby before we got to take him home.  I was struck by the joy of the event in contrast to the sadness from before.  A few days later we were on our way home to the country house in Mason.  We stopped on the way to see my dad in his church office and a few other people who had grieved with us over the past events.  All in all a good day for a couple of parents who appreciated it at the very highest level that appreciation and thankfulness can go.  That Sunday when the birth was announced, the River Terrace Congregation (who had supported us very nicely) broke in to a round of applause.  I will never forget it. 

I sat in the room with Ross and watched him in the crib that first night.  I wanted to make sure the whole thing was real.  Every hour or so I would wake and make sure he was OK. I do remember that first night he pretty much slept through the night.  He seemed slightly annoyed when I would nudge him a little to make sure he was OK.  I think he was a little tired from being shown around all day.  For the most part he was a good baby.  It was not long before Deb could get out with some of her friends and it was during those times that a transformation from being a good baby to one that was a little bit more of a pain would take place.  About the only thing that would appease him was going for a ride in the car.  I put him in the car seat and drove quite a few miles that first night when I had the full responsibility.  Over the tenure of his infancy we had quite a few car rides.  He did like his food source reasonably close by.

Fast forward a little to a couple of other Ross highlights.  When he was two years old I found a little bike.  I still have it hanging in our garage today.  It had training wheels.  It was not very long and those training wheels had vibrated a little higher and it was not very long after that they never touched the ground when he rode the thing.  So it was pretty early that he had his “wheels” and he had to be watched pretty closely.  It was not many years after that, about the 5^th grade, that we borrowed a cornet from Deb’s brother Ken.  We noticed that along with all of the other stuff that little kids do that this cornet was out of the case and being played in our living room quite a bit.  We never had to ask him to practice. Some years later he would sit and play for hours in a wingback chair we had.  We gave him that chair the other day to have at his home.  It was just this past weekend that Deb and I sat in DeVos Hall and watched him perform with the GR Symphony.  Some things just have a way of working out and this has been one of those things. 

Allow me next time to share another highlight……It will involve another car seat and a move at last to the city…..Till then…..

Stan the Man

The bird and the bees and the flowers and the trees

We started to get a used to  living in the country in Mason, Michigan.  It was a 5 acre property with a pond. The guy we bought it from was a forestry prof at MSU and the place had about every type of tree that Noah had remembered to throw in the back of the ark.  As he showed us the place he had to give a little history on each one and after about 3 hours of this tour I was not sure I needed to know that much more about trees.  Anyway, we did settle in and started to learn how to live out there. A popular TV show at that time was the show "Green Acres" and this place kind of had that feel right down to the pig Arnold Ziffle which I will tell you about in a moment. Some of the neighbors would raise a few animals and I was never sure if these things were pets or if they would once in a while be replaced as the original pets found their way to the dinner table.   The guy from 2 doors down came over one day and asked I if I had seen one of his pigs that had escaped from his pen.  I asked him for the description.  Mostly black with a white spot on the side, about 200 lbs and a curly tail, was what he could remember.  

That night Deb and I heard a huge commotion outside.  A bunch of dogs barking (or coyotes),  then a really loud screech and then silence.  With no ideas what had happened we left the next morning for a 3 day trip someplace.  Upon our return we noticed the most awful smell right when we got out of the car. I looked around a little but saw nothing.  The next morning the smell was bad enough that you could notice it inside the house.  I looked outside and there was something big floating in our pond.  It did have a white spot and by this time had experienced the fate of all animals who reside deceased in water for several days.  This thing was really big now.

I went down to get the neighbor and reported that I thought I had maybe found his pig.  He came over to check it out and looked at the thing for a while and after some thought reported that he did not think this was his pig.  I said "Terry that has got to be your pig. It has a white spot and everything.  I could use a little help getting this thing out of the pond."  He told me that he could tell it was not his pig because his had a tail that was more curly.  After a short argument about how it might be possible that the tail could lose some curl after 3-4 days in the water, he left for home and I was left with the chore of digging a pretty good sized pig grave on the property.  The act of using my lawn tractor to get this thing out of the pond and in that grave was not one of my finer moments.  Deb watched the event from the house and I think might have started to formulate some thoughts about how long we might want to stay in the country. 

Given the flowers and the trees that were on this place, plus a nice orchard, I somehow came up with the idea that having a bee hive might also be a good idea. I might suggest that if any of the readers are interested in this that some experience is needed. Working with another beekeeper would be a good thing.  The way this works is that you get a white hive with all sorts of contraptions on the inside for the bees to store the honey. Then your order a few things to protect your hands and head and you order 2-3 pounds of bees. When they arrive you put your stuff on and dump the bees in the hive.   Thinking and picturing bees from all around coming to join yours is what I sort of had in mind, but this is not how this works. Your bees start living in the hive and the queen lays a bunch of eggs.  Some of the bees go get pollen, some build stuff in the hive to make things more comfortable. Some of them work on fertilizing the eggs and in my hive some must have been assigned to sting the guy that owns the hive.  Every month or so you are supposed to open the hive and extract the things they put the honey on and do a few other housekeeping things to keep the bees happy.  The method you use to make this possible is to introduce some smoke in the hive. They give you a bellow looking thing that you put some leaves in, light them, and blow a little smoke in the entrance.  This somehow makes the bees docile and lets you work on the hive for about a half hour.  I think the first time I did this I must have worked the bellows a little to much and along with the smoke were some flames. By the time I was done with this thing these bees were a little mad.  I noticed that some of the bees had wings that were a little exposed to more than normal heat and a few of these things were walking around in the bottom of the hive.  I had the only walking bee brigade in the county.  I finally got better at it and over time got to the point of feeling somewhat experienced at the thing.

My Dad came over one day and wanted to see how this all worked. We put the bee stuff on him and he started to open and look at the hive. I was going to talk him through what to do. Some where along the way he jarred something that alarmed the bees.  Of the 50,000 bees in the hive about 49,000 were soon swirling around his head.  When dad put the bee suit on he had neglected to tie rubber bands around the pant cuffs.  I saw a few low flying bees fly into  this area.  A certain amount of panic had set in but I told dad to stand still and I thought things would be OK.  I soon heard a load OUCH and then about two more and soon he was running around the yard yelling and slapping his legs. I am not sure what he preached about the next morning but I do know it was preached with abut 12 big welts up and down his legs.


Deb was up at the house  watching the whole thing and pretty soon I looked over and she was laying on the ground. I was worried that a few stray bees had made their way over there and she was hurt but when I arrived she was laughing so hard she could not stand up.  When she did compose herself she asked if we were having fun yet and it took her a while to recover and wipe the laughter tears away.  She did find some salve to help my dad recover from about 12 bee stings and the next time he was over she told him how glad she was to see him because we needed some more help working on the bee hive.

By the time the whole ordeal was done we got about 2 jars of honey.  We put the jars up on the shelf and would often speculate as to the value of those jars.  I do know that break even point was around $100 each. That is about what it cost to go see a big name comedian.  And even the best pro comedian could not have made Deb laugh so hard, so maybe it was worth it. She walked around the house for a couple days humming "Let me tell you bout the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees---and a thing called love".  I asked her to stop it, but the tune by now was in her head...she said.

We moved to the city where we belonged.  By the way, moved there with three of us. I get to tell you abut that the next time....The birth of a son.... this time with good results.....and a few moments of laughter in the adventure....Until then.........................

A moment of gratitude that has changed our attitude

Permit me to take a moment and explain just a few things in what will be a different type of post than I have done in the past.  When I first started these I thought of about 30 events that might be worth reporting most of which had intertwined, along with the event itself, a note of humor within them.  Although it might seem strange to use the dimension of humor right now, it is true that when anything like the present circumstances happen within a family, a sense of despair and sadness may be the only emotion that deserves mention.  At the same time much of the history of our lives have brought laughter and I just thought it might be right to talk about some of that now as well.  Deb says sometimes to visitors "let's not talk about cancer", so even though it is the main issue at hand I can first hand testify that the mind has to dwell in some other areas as well.  That is the attempt here along with some recording of these stories so that our grandchildren can know that grandpa and grandma had some interesting stuff happen to them and that their grandma was kind of a neat person.

You may have wondered in my last title "twist and turns that have some burns and learns" what was meant?  I think everyone can figure the twist part. The death of our newborn was for sure a twist of fate that we did not expect.  The burn part is about a feeling that comes over you when something like this happens. You just feel kind of cheated or as though you have been burned.  How about the "learn" part? Well, that is the part that I want to talk about in this post.

It seems to me that whenever a tough thing occurs, there comes with it a chance to learn some things and change some things. With the short term lives of our babies one learns firsthand the level of hurt that goes with that.  The response to similar things that happen to other people are done in a more meaningful way.  We have a nurse friend, Char Nash, who used to organize a service each year at Holland Hospital for parents who have experienced the loss of a newborn child.  Each year about 30-40 gathered at this service and a time of memory and loss is shared.   Deb is now a nurse on the Boven Birth Center and is able to care for people who have had this experience in a very different way than people who have not experienced it.  When we know of someone in the community who goes through this we do what we can to offer to help them.

On a level we could never have imagined, let me relay one more element of learning that has taken place.   It was about six weeks ago now that Deb started to feel some discomfort in her abdominal area.  As this started to increase we worked at moving up some standard medical appointments she had. On August 1 she had a morning ultrasound and by 1:00 PM of that day she was informed that some real problems were present.  3 days later, more test and deeper problems.  One week and one day later a surgery and a meeting with the surgeon that did not bring good news at all.  Then some glimmers of hope and some stories of people in the same situations who have lived.  But here is the real learning that has taken place.  In a time that could be truly dire, our friends and family have surrounded us and helped us.  As I write this,  Karen  is downstairs talking with Deb.  She has attended some of  the doctor meetings (she is a nurse) to help us discern what was said and help us determine the best course of action. I mention her name because she is downstairs now but so many have helped at a level that we could not have imagined before.  The risk of mentioning everyone leaves the possibility of leaving out someone so I am not going to do that now.  So what is the learning?

The learning has come by knowing how much it has meant to Deb and I as this has unfolded. Correspondingly, we hope if any one of our friends or family suffer tough times that we can in some way return the favor. We know now how much it means.  A card, a prayer, a visit, a flower, a meal, a gift, a memento or just about anything and everything that lets you know that somebody has taken the time to think of you has a meaning beyond what we could only  imagine before. For me this is the learning.  In the future my response to people is going to change because of it.  I must tell you a common emotion I previously had is that people need time to recover, leave them alone.  Might be true in the early days of a problem but it does not stay true for very long.

3 weeks ago I was just learning what a blog is.  I thank all of you who follow.  I want to return to the more normal stuff next time but I want to use this time to thank you all......By the way,  I do have one to tell next time about the birds and the bees..........but it is not what you might think......It was real birds and real bees.

Thanks again to everybody, even the readers of this that just want to read and hear a little bit about humor in a storm.............. 

Stan the Man

Twist and turns that have some burns and learns.

I am going to share in this writing a few moments of deep emotion and pain. I might go back a little later and pick up another Jackson story or 2.  My responsibilities at work had changed and found a need to move to Mason, Michigan.  My primary responsibility for my company was to sell tools to Oldsmobile and living closer to Lansing was important.. For some reason we bought a place out in the country on 5 acres and I will tell about that later as well. Seems like Deb and I are more city people and we had a few interesting things happen out there that might have within them some smiles, but for now a different direction. Oh yes, and did I mention that sometime during this transition and or shortly thereafter evidence presented itself that there might be more than 2 of us in the house.

I think my job was going pretty well at that time and we had a little money in the till.  We drove down to Kalamazoo and went to a place called the Emporium with some of the neater antiques I had ever seen.  We spotted a black walnut baby bed with hand carved wooden spindles and bought that thing for $750.  One of the largest splurge moves we had ever made.  Deb had set up the baby room in a way that we thought that crib in there would be worth it. As I think about it today I wonder if it would have passed regulations for safety, but people just did not think about that so much back then. At that time there was something called Lamaze class.  It was some kind of class that taught people who where pregnant to breath in a way that having a baby did not hurt as much. The husband would grab an ankle or something and create a pressure point and he would be the coach for the whole affair. I can recall being in a room with a bunch of other couples and practicing for this. I do recall thinking over and over that no matter how the breathing was done and how the husband held on to the ankles or wrist that this was a deal that was gong to hurt. It was lucky for me that Deb has a huge pain threshold and even when the big moment came she told me to go over and sit in the corner and let her have this baby.  She has born 6 children, not had one drug, not let out one scream and has done the whole thing like it might be in a book someplace.

Those of us that do not know us that well can do the math.  We have three children and 6 pregnancies. The sad part is that 2 of the babies died a short time after birth (about 3-4 hours) and the third pregnancy was taken at around the 5 month point due to the fact that test were available to determine that the outcome was assured. The condition is known as Potters Syndrome which is underdeveloped kidneys that are not able to sustain life. Turns out that genetically, 1 out of every 2 children we would have would have this condition and that is exactly how it has worked out.   Needless to say we were crushed and not totally prepared for this. I can recall that shortly after the birth of, Jason Brandon, things not looking right at all. The baby did cry a little but the look on the faces in the room and the rush to bring the babe to a different area had the look of trouble all the way.  It was just a short time that a doctor was in the hall with me telling me that we have a big problem here and it was a short time thereafter that a pediatrician informed me that there was no chance for life beyond a few hours.  One of the more touching events I have ever witnessed is that Deb did have the chance to hold this infant for about 1/2 hour while he was still living.  As breathing became more difficult I watched the baby pass away a short time later in an incubator.  You know I do not really intend to pull on the heartstrings here but this is how it did happen.  Life in this case was 4 hours.  To make sure I have this right I am reading a typewritten (before computers) report and it is just interesting how they did things then compared to now.  The result however remains the same. It is an infants kidneys that produce the amniotic fluid and the lack thereof caused some additional issues as it relates to the condition of the baby.  As I read this report now, lots of problems.

I am not sure we really knew what to do. I do recall Deb's Dad being out of the country. I recall a scratchy voice from a distant country in the days of old phones, telling me to call Pete LeBetz who was a Polish funeral home director in Jackson and also a friend of his.  The plan was to have Deb's Dad return and help us deal with all of the issues including a service of some sort.  I went to Lansing that night to tell my Mom and Dad what had happened.  Late that night I returned to Jackson and I rang the doorbell of that funeral home. It was late!

Pete answered the door and we sat down at his kitchen table.  I think that with infants this small, before they are prepared for burial, they are placed in a solution that helps preserve the body for the choice the parents might choose for burial.   He made a cup of instant coffee and eventually got around to asking me this question. He said, I have been waiting for my doorbell to ring because I thought you might come in here tonight. You want to see that baby, am I right? I told him that that is what I was there for.  He told me this, and I will never forget it.  He told me that I would be better off if I thought for the rest of life as my first son being a beautiful baby.  But that it would be a mistake if I asked him to see the baby now.  You know something?  Deb and I never saw that baby after he died, we do not have a picture and she was not able to attend the event of the burial of that baby. We are thankful that Deb's Mom and Dad did tenderly and lovingly hold and dress that little guy for the casket.   I will forever thank this man for handling this in this way.  My memories of Jason Brandon are good ones.  In his own way he put up a good fight

On the drive home I thought a little about life, it's upturns and downs. I wondered a little about the Catholic Nurse who told me that we needed to get a priest on the scene soon to help this babe pass to heaven. And then I thought of something strange. I thought about the odds of the scene repeating itself somewhere around the globe to a family that had not held to Christian background.  All of the questions related to humans destiny in situations like this. Interesting questions. Every once in while a get them out again and think about them. My hope is that someday I will somehow be reunited with these children that never had the chance to live for more than a very short time.


Will you please allow me the next time to share a little more about this. It kind of has a little more. I know it is sad but it is somehow important to me to report it.   Until then.............stay with me..... Thanks...


Stan the Man

What to do with Mr. Blue

After a few years of selling construction equipment in the Detroit area a decision was made to change jobs. Deb and I purchased a nice little ranch home in Jackson, Michigan.   The reason I am sharing a few prices in these blogs is that as I think about them now it is amazing to me at how prices now are so different.  The house was $33,000 and the payment was $323 per month and that included the taxes.  I am going to look for a picture of it and try to post it. It was a nice place and we were proud of it. I started to learn firsthand that along with some other nice talents Deb possessed  was flair for decorating and some fun things she knew how to do in that area. We soon had kind of a cool place. She was finishing up a nursing school (in Detroit) so I lived in the house the first 3-4 months and she would drive to Jackson on the weekends. I can still recall listening for a Volkswagen tooling down the street. Could not wait for weekends. 

We had gained some good experience over the past years in Detroit at learning how people from varied backgrounds talked and lived.  Deb has never liked jokes that have ethnic flavor.  She will once in a while laugh at one I (used to) tell but she soon catches herself and some type of reprimand will soon follow. Over the years I have diminished my inventory of humor that falls in this category.  It is true that for some reason one of the picked on ethnic groups of that day were people of Polish descent.   I do agree with Deb that if a large amount of jokes about any group of people are told to often it is easy to build up bad feelings.  

But this guy that lived next door to me was hard to ignore.  He was Polish but he had a huge list of jokes but they were all about Dutch people.  I pointed out to him that I thought his ethnicity was supposed to be the chosen “picked on”. He said he knew this but just changed Polish to Dutch in all the jokes and thought they were funnier this way.  We did have a nice relationship with them but I did feel at times he could do some stuff that I will put in the “incredibly stupid” category.  He had to go to Chicago quite often for business. On his return one night he was telling me that he was in a large traffic jam and could not find a “comfort station” which he needed to find desperately.  I asked how he solved this problem he told me that he had elected to pee in his shoe and pour it out the window.  I asked him, what shoe?   And he told me his left one. I said you mean the one you are wearing right now.  And folks this was it.  I walked with him out front to where his car was parked and pointed out various ashtrays and containers that could be removed from the vehicle.   I am not saying in total desperation and all other options expired I would not do this. I am saying I would retire the shoes and not tell anybody about it.

 Have you ever seen the show “Tool Time”?  In that show Tim, the main character, has a backyard friend and they meet over the fence and solved life’s problems. I had a guy like that behind us in Jackson.  His name was Mr. Blue Mr. Blue was about 70 and seemed a bit frustrated with life.  He had owned a company for years and did not have enough to do now that he was retired. Plus his wife was a bit a nag. He was so used to being his own boss at work but he had one now at home.  He taught me about wife school.  He maintained that all women attended a secret school about 1 year after marriage and learned how not to like some things about men.  He had a unique way of expressing himself and I think did not really know many people of my age.  Some of the advice he gave was a little nuts but he always had kind of a twinkle in his eye and he did have some wisdom.  He also would ask me how I would handle some things and was particularly interested if I had any thoughts on how he could make Mrs. Blue more subservient.  Never really sure I was able to help him much on that one.  He did have a nice lawn though.

The next time I am going to share with you a time of emotion and sadness that we experienced in our lives.  All storm and no humor as they say………..but it would just not be right to not have some recording of those days…..Thanks for listening……..

Battle won when things are done

There are a few things about living in Detroit that you have to experience to actually know that living in there has some challenges.  In the winter they do not plow the roads of the residential streets. Parked cars are usually parked on both sides with no where else to go with the snow.  So if they get some snow and ice the streets become nearly impassible if it stays cold enough.  Another thing is that extra thought has to be given to walking or being out in the night. Parking your car (all street parking) can be an adventure as there are times when no spaces are available near your home.  I can be just hard work living in the city. 

Deb’s dad has always had an eye for properties that he could buy and then rent out. He is extremely handy and is not afraid to buy something a little run down or as they say,  a fixer up special.  He spotted one of these places in Grosse Pointe Park and offered to let us rent the downstairs for $150 buck a month if I would help him fix some of the stuff.  Now I do like writing, I like golfing, was a decent softball player, but in the area of handy I fall someplace in the D category.  Not totally worthless but almost there. He on the other hand is in the A group and at times this can be somewhat intimidating.  I think Deb has in general been happy over these years with many of the things I do know how to do but I might venture a touch frustrated with my skill and desire level in the plumb it, paint it, build it, redo it areas. I have my father in law to blame for this.

He shares with all of his children another attribute.  They all have the ability to finish a project no matter what time of night it might be.  So it is not unusual that quitting time can be 2 in the morning and I have seen it go to 4.  I can also recall finishing something at 4AM and seeing him be called to one his funeral homes for a late night duty, working the next entire day and them coming home to put the “second” coat on the following night.  I many ways I often think that Deb and her Dad work alike, think alike, and both are challenged by the same things.  No project is too large, and when they are finished it looks like it was done by a pro.  In this way they have a special understanding and a bond with each other.

I can only thank him and his wife now for all the help they have given us over the years. He is 80 now and gets a little frustrated that his energy level is not what it used to be.  He does now quit what he is working on around midnight and resumes the next morning.

On to other things next time……We bought a house in Jackson, Michigan and there might be a couple of fun stories in there somewhere……….

a-good-a story about a-young-a couple

We arrived back in Detroit and had rented a 2nd story flat right in the city.  I recall it was $200 per month which was the going rate for pretty good accommodations.  Living in Detroit, actually a few blocks out side of Grosse Pointe there were some decent places. A little older but pretty nice brick homes.  In a big city you soon become acclimated to being around people from all different cultures and the area that we lived in had many people of Greek descent.  Anybody who has ever seen "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" knows that the Greek culture  has within it people who operate with larger emotional expressions than just the average dude on the street.  It seemed that many years ago when the people immigrated to the area it was popular to build a home that had one family upstairs and one down. In doing so they would share the expenses of home ownership.  As time had gone by,  one of the owners would move as circumstances changed.  But still these were known as 2 family flats and they were the same up and downstairs but with no entrance to the other from the dwelling itself.

The owner of the place was a guy by the name of Nick.  He had a few friends that I encountered over the time and it did seem interesting that their first names were all Nick as well. So Nick and Helen, his wife, welcomed us the first day with a nice breakfast.  In Detroit, we encountered people of both Italian and Greek background.  You could tell the difference because the Italian accent included an   -a- after most words and the Greek included the -a-  both before and after most words.  So I remember Nick inviting us to breakfast some like this.  "You  a-look-a  alike-a  a-nice-a  couple and I  wan-a   a-have-a  a-you-a  and  you-a  a-nice-a  a-bride-a  see-a  a-how-a  good-a  a-cook-a   is-a  my-a  a-wife-a."  We sat down at their table in the lower flat and found out that the Greek eating traditions vary somewhat from what we were used to.  Each person at the table was served two eggs in a little stand up cup.  I thought it was good.  Hard boiled eggs,  but these were different.  They were in the shell but they were far from hard boiled.  In fact the yokes were barely white.  Nick proceded to knock a hole in the top of one of his eggs and poor the contents out on a piece of toast.  Deb and I kind of looked at each other and soon did the same.  We had never had raw eggs before and have never had them since.  Nick asked if we  a-need-a   a-more.  We politely declined and went on to moving in upstairs-a.  I said to Deb as we were working our way upstairs that my eggs had a noticeable a-peep-a.  As we were exposed to the of people that resided in that area we gained lots of experiences on how people from different cultures live.

The other interesting experience from that first day in the new place was that Deb wanted to cook for me a meal.  Those of you that know Deb, know that of all her attributes the love for cooking has never been one. I must say when she wishes she is one of the best. On this day she had decided to make a meatloaf dinner.  With the unfamiliar stove, the product of this endeavor had some unique features.  The inside tasted OK but the outside was stuck to the pan and the whole thing had the appearance which indicated that she might wish to pursue a career in nursing rather than culinary.  I was so hungry from moving all day that I asked her if we had been given, in addition to the many fine dining gifts from the wedding, a chisel and hammer.  I would eat the rest of it as long as the chisel was sharp.  I am not sure if this was the right thing to say as evidenced by a short exchange that took place regarding who was going to do the cooking in the future.

One other thing I remember is that hanging above our bed was a poster that someone had  hung on the wall.  It had a boy and girl in a bed about 3 years old, in their P.J.s, with a real  frustrated look.  The caption underneath indicated they were talking with each other and asking  "So what is so much fun about Sleeping Together?"  As we were moving that day we were not only exhausted but we had heard through the floor in the Greek vernacular.  Those  a-young-a  people up-a  there-a  make-a  a lot-a  a-noise-a.  So we retired at around midnight.  We slept real good that night and the only noise might have been snoring.

We lived there about 1and 1/2 years.  Learned a lot there but not as much as at the next place.  Will you allow me to tell you about that next time? Or maybe I will skip forward to some really interesting stuff..........

Thanks very much all you readers.  I am learning bunches about how kind people are.  I know these things are a little corny, but sometimes there is good nutrition in corn!!!!!!!!!.........................

Amazed by little things

In a day or so we had arrived in Florida and had booked at kind of a modern place.  The designs of that era did not have square or traditional looks.  Instead people thought it was cool to build buildings with octagon shapes with kind of crazy stuff hanging out of them.  I think George Jetson might have had something to do with these designs.  We have since returned to Disney and most all of this stuff is torn down and replaced now but then it all looked kind of modern. I am not sure it was all that practical. Much of Disney World was about the future and these ideas were all over the place.  We arrived around 2 in the afternoon. I can recall it like yesterday because they handed me a key to the room that was nothing more than a plastic card with a bunch of holes punched in it.  I remember making a special point of this as I showed Deb the modern key I was holding,  It was a warm afternoon, the sun was out and my new wife wanted to go swimming.

Every relationship must have its first big argument and once we were in this place we had one.  Deb came out of the bathroom with what had to be the smallest bikini I had ever laid eyes on even by today's standards.  I was worried that the State of Florida must have some sort of law banning this kind of thing. I had heard that the patrons of the Disney area were of a slightly more conservative demeanor and I was not interested in getting kicked out of the place before we even got to stay the night.  This thing was black with sort of a flame pattern and even the strings that held the thing together had the appearance that the slightest wind or interruption in climate could lead to an embarrassing moment. Trying to spare her a moment such this I asked if she had anything more conservative but she insisted  to stay with it and on down to the pool she went.

Now do you for one minute believe anything about that last paragraph?  Because it is nothing more than a pack of lies. I was concerned that these writings were getting a little boring and I just threw that in   Am I allowed to do that?  I will not do again as I am attempting to make this all as factual as I can.  We did go down to the pool in more conventional swimwear and enjoyed an afternoon in the Florida sun.

The next morning we were off to Disney. At that time they only had the Magic Kingdom.  The whole place was built on technology that was a little new to that day.  Monorails and little metal robots with fur arranged on them to look like a bear or something else just amazed the audience.  There was an attraction named the Great Bear Jamboree.   Deb and I waited more than an hour twice to see these figures move and sing.  All it was was a tape playing some hillbilly songs, a robot with a bear suit on that would move it's mouth to the song and once in a while nod his head.  I still cannot believe we stood there for two hours to see this.

Later we went to the GE pavilion and got on some thing that rotated around futuristic robotic displays.  In one they had a kid that had a phone that was not hooked to the wall.  I remember whispering to Deb,  "that will never happen".  Guess I was right about that one.  We did somehow manage to have a good time and have since been there with our children.  I am not really sure I care all that much for the place but I am amazed by the fact that the place can attract huge amounts of people with a fake mouse as the central character.

In a few days it was time to return home.  We had our first apartment rented and lots to look forward to.  On the ways down there Deb sat next to me in the car but I did notice on the way back she took her rightful side and joined the world of wifedom.  Once in while she would say something about me driving to fast.  I am not sure she is going to be all that happy about the above paragraph on the bikini either.  But that is the way it has always been around here and somehow life for us has been interesting.

Next something about our first dwelling place and couple of interesting landlords.........until then so long..  Thanks Dave W for the milkshakes......Anna also..

Comic books and different looks.

Before I start with this post let me first allow for a few simple edits. It has been pointed out to me that the spelling of Grosse Pointe is just the way I have just done it and it seems that earlier spelling did not include the e at the end.  It has also been pointed out the the song "Jeremiah is a Bullfrog" is not right. It is instead "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog."  Not that this makes much more sense, but my apologies for any errors in these areas.  No matter what it is called it makes no more sense to me.

Once a proposal of marriage has been offered in the Dutch culture it is needed to talk to the prospective brides father to ask for her hand in marriage.   I remember this event going fairly well.  He had a few questions but as nervous as I was I do remember being let of the hook fairly easy.  He suggested that he had always envisioned a wedding for his daughters at a facility in Grosse Pointe called the War Memorial.  I was not sure this sounded like all that good of a idea but I had driven by the place several times and a knew it was a nice place.  So it did not seem like very long and plans were being made for a wedding.  As most grooms of that day I am not sure there was that much I had to do with whole affair.  I do remember that the fashion of that day was something called "mod" and it seemed like not much time had past when I was standing in the front of the Grosse Pointe CRC in a green bell bottom tux and watching a beautiful girl and her dad walking down the left hand isle of that church.  A trumpet was playing, an organ was blaring, my dad was standing there waiting to do the ceremony.  In a short time I was reciting the vows I had rehearsed for two weeks.  I kind of remember feeling a little like a leprechaun standing there in in that tux but that was the fashion of that day.  I do recall saying these words along with some others. " In sickness and in health, till death do us part."  All humor aside, and even though at that time I did not know the full meaning or the implications of those words I will tell you from my heart that I have lived them and take them seriously to this very day.   And that is the way it will be.

A short blur of reception at the "War Memorial"  a cake smeared kiss, a party at the house and a few gallons of gas soon found us going down the I-94 and headed to Chicago for a quick one night trip to a business convention to be held at McCormick Place.  I had booked a room at the Continental Plaza (now the Westin) and paid cash $60 bucks for the room. Now a pittance, then a fortune.   Deb and I went and looked at a few of the machines at the convention but we soon found ourselves at the Cape Cod Room at the Drake.  We both canned down a couple of "milkshakes" and she held my hand walking out of the place and we walked down Michigan Ave holding hands.   That night we went to kind of neat place.  It was  called, "Ron of Japans." This was one of these places that had a guy cooking right in front of you.  It also had 6 people sitting with us that we did not know.  We had a big shot sitting next to us.  He found out we were just married and bought our meal.  He was so proud of his kid who was sitting next to him.  After a rather large build up he did for his kid, (I thought he must be president of a bank or something) I asked the kid what he liked to do. I will never forget this answer. He said he liked to read comic books.  Now the only lesson I think we took from this is that no matter how important the guy next to you seems he just may be on the level of everyone else.  I asked if he liked Spiderman or Superman.  He said he was really in to the Green Hornet.  I asked him if he knew the song "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog."  Yep, for sure it was one of his favorites.

I will spare you the good stuff.  But for $60 I thought we also might make some good use of the room.  We ordered breakfast in bed the next morning.  They served it under some really nice silver stuff.  We checked out of the joint and were soon on our way to the Magic Kingdom.  Took about a day or two in the car but who cared.  I was with the person I loved and we were on our way to Florida.  It was February 10, 1975.  We had a radio that worked, a wedding we will never forget, a dinner at Ron of Japans and a fun conversation with a guy that really liked comic books.  Could life get any better?  It did.......and the next time I will tell you about it...............

Stan the Man

Angels and Bullfrogs

As our dating career progressed I can recall a number of memorable events.  I had decided to take a year off from my job in Lansing and attend Calvin College. I am not sure why I did this. I know that Deb was going to attend there and it was hard for me to think about her wandering around that place for a year with about 1500 other guys. Plus I was kind of bored by the business world.  I worked at a place by the name of AIS Construction Equipment and I do remember thinking about if I wanted to spend the rest of my life around stuff that did little more than dig holes in the dirt. Many of my friends had also gone on to college, I wanted to play on a golf team and I was ready for a new experience.

To this point I had lived at home. I had a little money saved and I can recall being proud that on the first day I paid cash for a one year stint at Calvin.  It was about $3,300 dollars at that time. I was also ready to move away from home.  Not that home was all that bad, but it just seemed like time.  Being a member of a CRC church, of which my father was the pastor, I felt some obligation to attend with them and I  at that time they had morning and night services.  I think I remember being at most all of these.  I moved into a dorm room at Calvin.  My roommate was a guy from California by the name of Clarence.  He was one of the finer looking male members of the species  and I do remember girls on the campus coming up to me to see if he "was taken."  This was always a bit of an insult to me. I felt like chopped liver every time anyone would ask me about this. 

I was looking forward so much to that first Sunday and one thing that was going to happen is that I was not going to church.  Clarence played the guitar and he was going to play it at the morning service. At that time white clothes, white belts and white shoes were in fashion.  I might have had a few beers the night before, I am not sure. As the sun was beaming through dorm window I opened my eyes and all I could see was a tall blond guy in the sunlight, standing in the room with all white clothes strumming on a guitar.  I remember thinking " I miss church one time, I die, but at least I get an angel in the room strumming a guitar. At least I made it to heaven."

After a few groggy moments I figured  out the situation.  I have never really liked beer all that much since.  Things did go forward however and around October I decided it might be time to think about asking Deb if she might chose to become married.  Now I think proposals have the potential to be memorable events.  I also think that the majority of them are somehow driven by TV.  But  they have a chance to be much less dramatic when you have already had a discussion on what you might like to name your children. For us that was the situation.  So we sat on a field by a soccer post, with the stars shining above, and I offered what I think now to be a rather feeble proposal. Blaring out of one of the dorm rooms was "Jeremiah is a Bullfrog."  I thought there was some justice in this.  The song that I had not been able to figure out some 4 years past and  the one I remember from the day I met her, was the same one I would  propose to.   Ever since, I have admired the guys that fly in with a parachute, put the ring on a flower or do something more than what I did.  But that is just the way it was.  I did however have the knowledge that it might be smart to have Deb help me pick out a ring and she did seem rather pleased with this.  (She can be a touch particular)

There was a guy  near Calvin College that had a small company named the Calvin Diamond Company.  The next night we found ourselves sitting at his kitchen table. He pulled out a cloth sack and spilled on to the table about 100 diamonds.  I remember his name was Cornelius Kikkert.  He was nice guy and he knew Calvin kids did not have a lot of money.  He sold us a diamond and showed us some pictures of some rings. A couple of days later we went over there and picked up the ring.  I have never been sure why diamonds are important to most women but for any reader of this I might just tell you now that they are.  Some day I will understand.

I was maybe about 22 years old at the time and I think Deb was 19.  When you are that age you think you know, but you don't.  You do not know the things that are coming up for you. You do not know what it is like to take on a full time roommate. You do not know how together you will handle the challenges of life.You do not know all that much about each other.  All you do know is that life is going to change in a short time for the both of you and you live with the hope that life will be good when it is shared.

For us this has worked out  well. A few bumps along the road but in the big picture a life that has been shared and lived together in love.  One thing that has always bugged Deb, is that she thinks that most married couples sleep on the same side of the bed for a life.  In other words one on the right and one on the left, not actually on the same side.   I have always kind of liked the rotation method.  So we switch every two months or so.  I am looking for one reader who thinks the same way so Deb does not think I am a touch weird. 

The morning after the proposal I met her for breakfast.  She told to not expect getting up this early to be a pattern.  I often wonder if a more dramatic proposal could have changed this. I think I know the answer.

I have a wedding to tell you about next.....and maybe a honeymoon story or two.....rated G by the way so don't get all that excited...Still good though!!!!

Stan the Man

A one way Conversation with Feeling

In recalling some of the stories relating to our work with resettling Vietnamese families my mind brings me back to many more events from this chapter of our lives. This one will be the last I use for this blog but perhaps for memory sake I might write a few more of them down.  In recalling some of these events I think a few others may have some value in the future for all who were involved.

I recently became interested in knowing something about the ideas of the major religions of the world.  This interest was spurred by watching the news and not understanding very well world events. So I thought I should maybe know something about what stands behind some of the problems we now experience in our world.  I bought a book that told a lot about 8 major religions.  I was primarily interested in how some of the religions could generate a militant dimension that today impacts all of us.  As I read the book it was also striking that of the 8 major religions, only two, those being Christianity and Islam, have as one of their motivating factors, the idea of salvation.  It is interesting to me that many of the problems and threats we now experience come out of different sects of these two faiths. 

As it applies to our work with resettlement I was never able to determine or understand where these families stood religiously.  There was an idea going around at that time that since the church was involved in the resettlement there might be chances to have the families adopt the Christian faith.  So picking up the families we had worked with and taking them to church was part of the picture.  It is hard for me now to think about this. One morning I looked over at one of the families, none who knew English, listening to a sermon about grace and trying to sing “Standing on the Promises”.  All I could do is feel a little sorry for them.  Perhaps the only value that came out of this was more experience and exposure to the English language and some nice friendships with the people at River Terrace.  River Terrace was a progressive church and eventually relaxed this pressure and did the work from the perspective of Christian compassion rather than gaining souls for Jesus. One other value was that I let Mu do the driving after we would pick him up for church.  I think he had not driven a car before.  Deb warned me many times about breaking the law but I knew he would not pass his driving test without some time behind the wheel.  I figured if we died in this venture at least God would save me.  Plus, I did not want to be driving him around forever. He passed his drivers test on the first try.  Somebody from the church gave him a used Grand Prix.  A couple of weeks later I was helping him change the heater core in this thing.  I have not worried about salvation much since, except that the language that the heater core had to hear might have been a little over the top. (located under the glove box in older Pontiacs.)

One of the nice things about most oriental cultures is that tremendous respect is given to people who are older.   In one of the families was a Grandmother who had come over to the USA with them.  Many of the families we worked with had her offspring or were related to her in some way. She was kind of the matriarch of the family and was very honored by them.  I could tell she was getting feebler as time past.  I think she was about 85 years old.  I received a call one night that she had passed away and the family asked that I visit the funeral home the following night.  Deb had to work that night so I entered one of the rooms at Gorsline Runcimon funeral home alone. I was struck by the sight.  About 35 people were gathered, kneeling on the floor, heads bowed, all with black hair ranging in age from 5 years old to about 50.  The Grandmothers body was in a nice casket in the front of the room.  There was the audible sound of weeping in the room that went on the entire time I was there.  One by one everyone in the room would stand up and go about one foot away from the casket. They would engage in about a 5 minute conversation with the Grandmother.  I could not be sure what they were saying because of the language.  I must say that the conversations had somewhat of a one sided dimension to them, but they were nonetheless delivered with great emotion and love.

Eventually one of the adults came to the back of room where I was standing and told me it was my turn.  I went to the front took my place and the best I can recall I said something like this.  “You are obviously loved in a way I have not before witnessed. Your family is safe and you have been able to see their life in this new land.  In whatever you have faced in your life you can rest with the satisfaction that the honor you now take with you is an honor reserved for a very few. May the God I know take your soul to a place of greatness that none of us will ever be able describe.” 

Then Mu came and asked me to do a prayer. I said I was never sure he believed in something like this.  Mu told me that he did not want to take any chances. He said “just in case you guys are right I figure there is nothing to lose.”  I stood in the front of the room and put my hand on the casket.  I prayed that Gods blessing be with all in the room and that we all be honored and respected on some day in the future in the same way that their Grandmother was now being honored.  I forgot the rest but I did the best I could.

You know I think that God’s blessing has been with them.  And I sense that even though they never learned “Standing on the Promises” and did not know much about “Grace” that the infinite power of God will provide for them in a way that is beyond our human understanding.  It was on this night that I broadened my perspective on how I thought about God. I was not sure how He would do it but to this day I think He will provide in special ways for a broad spectrum of people.  I live with the hope that I am right about this.

In a few days I want to tell you about my proposal to Deb. Just glad my parachute opened…….