Snow in Malmedy

People were hoping for snow this morning in our area of Sacramento

MALMEDY MASSACRE

but were disappointed. It was cold enough to snow but the moisture wasn't there. I was not among those waiting in anticipation.

My encounters with that
element of nature are mostly unpleasant ones.

As a child I lived for a time in the High Sierras and spent one winter in a simple cabin with only plain boarding for walls. I helped the cause by stuffing the cracks between the siding with newspaper to keep out the chill. Water was carried from a nearby creek and the morning wash basin full would be frozen. Play outside meant frost bitten fingers. The only good thing to recall was when mom would put some fresh snow in a bowl and add milk and sugar to make a simple ice cream.
As an infantryman in WWII I spent a couple of winters in the snow of Europe. In combat that is no fun. I remember being dug in to the side of a railroad embankment (a side wise foxhole) and having our minister bring me a pair of dry socks to protect my feet from frostbite. I had to kick the return slide on my M-1 rifle to get a round in the chamber as it was frozen. And once while on guard duty with a friend we shared a foxhole during our rest period; and, during the night we were covered with snow and our replacement luckily and literally stumbled upon us while searching desperately in the dark.
On one combat patrol we wore white 'long john' underwear over our uniforms to serve as camouflage as we marched. This was a venture to regain ground taken by the Germans at the Malmedy Massacre, where they captured a hospital and shot the American patients. We did retake this area and provide evidence for possible war crimes trials after the war. You can probably read about it by using google. In our approach to this area we were opposed by a few rifle shots from the surrounding hills and as we sought to make shelter in the fields by digging fox holes I spotted a depressed spot that I thought would give me a head start. In actuality it had frozen water in the bottom and I had to use my small shovel to chip it away first. As time passed the opposition grew stronger and soon a mortal shell burst above me. I felt a sting on my back (I was reclining while attempting to dig) and reached back to see if I was injured. I found a small fragment of the shell lying on my back that was still warm from firing. I carried it for years as a good luck charm. The photo above is of my buddy Bob Smothers and I just before the Malmedy venture.
The upshot of all this is that I did suffer some frost damage to my feet during these winters and I do not enjoy wading about in snow. I am happy to sit in the warm lodge, sipping a bolstering drink, while watching you ski buffs suffer outside. I am
Just Sayin'

Wanderlust

In the Spring of 1964 I, my wife and two sons took a 6 week trip from California across the United States and return. We traveled in a very large slide-in camper that had a large sleeping area that extended over the cab of our Dodge truck. I had just leased the truck and caught a break on the camper when the original purchaser decided she didn't like the color scheme and forfeited the $500 down payment, which the dealer gave to me. This camper was so wide that it would probably be prohibited from highways by most states today. The weight caused the front of the truck to rise a bit so driving was a learning process that I had to engage. As an army vet who had driven everything from half-tracks, 2 1/2 ton trucks, command cars, jeeps and seeps I had no fears in tackling this behemoth. And, in the end, no damage was ever incurred. The camper had a dining table that converted into a double bed at nighttime, a chemical toilet, an ice box, propane stove and oven, sink, battery operated lights or regular electric hook-ups when parked. A very comfy home away from home and, while moving, the boys had a great seat in the overhead sleeping area with its large window.
This was a vagabond trip, wandering south through the Salton Sea then eastward through New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Georgia, Florida, No. Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky and Ohio before turning westward towards home. I would drive about two or three hundred miles each morn and arrive at a pre-planned spot to rest, sight see and get our ground legs back again. We tried not to miss the notable places along the way, stopping at Indian Tribal sites, the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, the Alamo in San Antonio, Lake Pontchartrain in Louisiana, Stone Mountain in Georgia, Blue Ridge Mountains in No. Carolina, a few days with an army buddy in the back woods of Kentucky, and a long stay in Cincinnati, Ohio where we visited with my wife's sister.
With today's restrictions and regulations I doubt if this trip could be duplicated. Campers were not that prevalent and we were able to stop almost wherever we wished for the evening. We stayed in super market parking lots, under bridge overpasses, and often in state or county parks. In big cities we could often just park on a street as we were treated as a passenger car under the highway codes. We were self contained so did not pose an environmental threat. Only once were we told to leave a potential overnight site and that was in Coolidge, Arizona where we had parked at the Casa Grande ruins. A ranger politely asked us to leave after visitor hours as he had no rules governing a possible night visitor. There were a few commercial camp sites to be found. We found one in Georgia and one in No. Carolina. Both had places to shower, clean the camper and provided Ranger guided tours of the area. I recall the cost as being 75 cents per night in Georgia and $2.50 in No. Carolina; however, in No. Carolina's defense, they had a swimming pool and rec hall.
As we traveled we would gather decals to apply to the rear of the camper, indicating all the places we had visited. Remember, this was 1964 and we were to travel through the deep south. While in full sympathy with the civil rights cause, we were on vacation and hoped to get safely home without injury, so we did not engage in any political discourse with the natives. And, there were plenty of natives who would gather around us wherever we stopped - - never having seen a home on wheels before.
The closest we came to an accident happened when I pulled off the highway in a wide strip of graveled ground so we could have some lunch. After lunch I prepared to leave and walked behind the camper to make sure all was clear as I needed to back up to gain a more level access to the highway. Then, I slowly backed up and hit something. Upon investigation I found that a gentleman had pulled up immediately behind me, so close he was in a blind spot, and was busy studying a map! No damage was done so we chatted, smiled, and went on our separate ways.
Our only major problem came after my youngest son became seriously ill in New Mexico. We had briefly visited distant relatives in Texas and he had taken a drink of water from a garden plastic hose. It gave him a kidney infection and we were stuck outside Carlsbad Caverns without a clue where to go. We drove to Lovington, NM at early dawn and found a hospital. They had to call a doctor as there was none on duty at that hour. In a short time a physician arrived and he was able to diagnose the problem and provide antibiotics that quickly brought back a healthy lad. Son, Kevin, about 7 yrs. old at the time, was convinced that a young boy on the Carlsbad tour was to blame, having made a 'devil face' at him when he passed. He still believes this today.
Everyday we awoke to a new front yard, a new adventure. We enjoyed views of cotton fields, corn fields, busy city traffic, nearby creeks, rivers and lakes. We spent one night holed up in the camper while a furious thunder storm drenched the area and lightning struck a tree a bare 30 feet away. This was in Indiana on our route homeward. We later paused in Arizona to view the petrified forest and the huge crater that was formed eons ago by a meteor.
It would be an equally adventurous trip today but with the price of gasoline and the traffic today - - - I am
just sayin'

Fiesta of Food

When I first married Virginia after WWII I was the cook in the family. Now that is not saying much. I could scramble eggs, which I learned how to do as a child and I had a smattering of in-the-field cooking I had to learn in the army; like heating a can of beans on the radiator of a half-track vehicle. Virginia had zero experience. She had worked part time in a bakery but otherwise ate what her grandmother served. So, we were fortunate in sharing a home with my mother briefly in Redding, Calif. and; later, living in a small cabin we built on my Aunt's property. Both my mother and aunt were good home country cooks. Virginia's first lessons came from them.
As time went by Virginia, or Jimmy as I called her, took a sincere interest in the preparation of food. I encouraged her by supplying the appetite and many recipe books. Finally our mutual interest in the subject led us beyond the norm. As a child I was considered a "picky" eater. There were so many foods I would not eat. What wasn't understood at the time was that I had severe food allergies. I have been saddled with them ever since. It is a running tease in my family and among my friends that I will not eat anything 'green.' And, factually, most green things with few exceptions (lettuce, peas) make me ill. But, as I explored the world of food with Virginia, I found I could eat a great variety of foods of any ethnic origin.
In the 1970s we founded a club called the Afro-American -Irish-Mexican Meeting and Eating Society. About every other month members would gather at a friend's home and we would have a pot luck dinner. I was the president/dictator and the rules were simple: bring enough food for your family, your own beverages, and bring a friend if you like who can also become a member if he/she is compatible. The variety of foods shared at these dinners was astronomical, of every ethnic origin, and the gathering of friends was delightful. This club became so popular that many members just could not host the dinners at their own home. Too many people. One of the last dinners Virginia and I hosted was held at a downtown hall that we had to rent to accommodate everyone. The club collapsed of its own popularity.
Virginia eventually became a gourmet chef. She could prepare meals that were derived from most any country. She could make from scratch everything from Chines char chi bau, re-fried beans, tamales, baklava and Vietnamese pastries to Turkish stuffed cabbage rolls and southern fried pies. We continually investigated the world of food and at one point we decided to eat our way through the phone book yellow pages. We started with such "A" restaurants as the Asian Cafe and the Alhambra Bowling Alley, visiting 4-star places along the way. An exciting adventure. We dined in fabulous places when we traveled such as the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, the Jewish restaurant in the old City of Paris in San Francisco, the spots in the French Quarter of New Orleans, and the great German restaurants in her home city of Cincinnati. I will always have the great memories of our adventures together in the world of food. But - - I still won't eat anything green - - - -
I'm just sayin'

Celebreties

I am a star-struck celebrity fan. Since childhood I have always been impressed by the famous. And, during a long life I have bumped into a few (sometimes literally). I remember the first famous person I recognized. It was Pres. Herbert Hoover. He had just lost an election and was visiting our town, Grass Valley, Calif. I was a lad of about 9 yrs. and spent most summer days in the city park where I could swim in the public pool. On this particular day I noticed several vans parking along the roadway into the park. They were news vans, like Pathe News, which carried movie photographers to film events of interest to moviegoers. The photographers set up their cameras (2 reel, hand-cranked) on tall tripods on the roof tops of the vans. So, I naturally hung out nearby to see what was going to happen. In time an auto cavalcade arrived with the president riding in an open 4-door car in the lead. As it moved slowly along the roadway I began to run alongside the car, waving my arms for the cameras, like any boy would do. I am sure I was seen across the nation when the event was shown that week in local theaters.
The California State Fair was a great place to see celebrities. As my wife and I left the park at closing time we were walking between two large display buildings and saw a figure approaching. It was Leo Carrillo, a famous Mexican actor who starred in the TV series "The Cisco Kid." We had just watched him display his horsemanship in some daring rides at the racetrack arena in a special show. I greeted him and thanked him for such a fine performance and he chatted with us for awhile.
Also at the fair one morn my wife, my sons and I were early birds and among the first to enter the Counties Building where each county displayed its wares. As we approached the first booth we saw a group of men already there. It was the governor of California, Pat Brown, father of our present newly elected governor, and a group of reporters. They turned as we approached and Pat bent over towards my son Kenneth and asked "Do you know who I am?" Kennie was about 7 yrs. old. He quickly replied "Yes, Sir, you are the governor." They were all impressed and some newsmen took his name.
Other presidents I have seen include John F. Kennedy, who made a speech from the back of a train along the tracks near Broadway in Sacramento. I heard he was to be there and hurried to gain a vantage point. There was something about John F. that was inexplicable. A sort of aura that he projected when he spoke. I was captivated and became a devoted Kennedy supporter. I also attended a 'back of train' speech by Harry H. Truman, who spoke of his connections via land holdings in the Sacramento area. The Dwight D. Eisenhower that I met was not yet president; he was a General in command of the European invasion of WWII. I was a mere private on guard who stopped his command car as it left a parking area. His license plate which displayed 5 stars was covered at the time or I would have simply saluted as it left. I quickly recognized him, saluted and waved his driver on. I also saw Lyndon Johnson when he visited Sacramento. His cavalcade of autos came from Executive airport directly through my mail route. I knew when he was due (I had watched secret service men being posted on the nearby rooftops) so I hurried a couple of blocks away to get my mother and my wife who were at the laundromat we owned. We stood by as his cavalcade passed and I took photos.
The celebs I bumped into were always professional fighters. I did so a couple of times with Buddy Baer, a huge heavyweight fighter and brother to world champion Max Baer (Max's son was a star on the TV series "Beverly Hill Billies,"). I bumped into him first at the Alhambra theatre (since torn down) as I left the candy counter. A second time was not actually a bump but I asked the large man who paused in front of my seat at the ball game to please move on. It was Buddy and I immediately apologized. Hey, I am 5' 6" and not a fighter. I also literally bumped into Joe Louis, heavyweight champion of the world. It was during the war and I was leaving the line where one rinsed out one's mess kit after dinner and turned right into the champ. He was accompanied by the original Sugar Ray Robinson, who stepped forward as if to protect the champion. Again I apologized and Joe smiled his acceptance. This has to be an inherited trait - - bumping into the famous - - because my mother once pushed open the doorway of a lunchroom and stepped into the arms of Jimmy Stewart, the actor. He was in the Air Force and stationed at nearby Mather Field during the war. So - - not my fault - - -'
I'm just sayin -

Time, Where Does It Go?

I cannot believe that it has been so long since I posted. The intervening months have been spent trying to correct a vision problem. Here is the story: years ago I had a cataract removed from my dominant right eye. At the time there was also a beginning cataract in the left eye. I did not bother to have it removed as it was not a problem. Since birth I had an eye condition that did not allow my eyes to focus together; so, I mainly relied on the right eye and would automatically switch to the left when it became tired. A strange malady that was a problem when I was a pre-med student. In class we had to use a microscope and when measuring something on a specimen slide one needs to use one eye, looking through the scope, and the other other looking at the slide with adjacent ruler. I could not do this. I could either see through the scope or look at the slide on the scope platform. Could not see them together. The thing is as time went be in my elder years the neglected cataract in my left eye began to be invaded by blood vessels. This caused an infection which the family doctor could not cure. A visit to specialists revealed the problem and surgery was needed to save the eye itself. All was successful, but I now have only the right eye to use. The left has vision but no lens so all is out of focus. I realize this is more than you wanted to know, but I needed to post it for those who actually question me about my vision.

There is a permanent blanket of fog over our city. This is miserable weather. They say that fog comes about because of dirty air - - each droplet surrounding a dirt particle. I am not sure that is true. I have seen fog out in the boondocks where no human lives and there are no autos and such to pollute the air. But if we are experiencing global warming then this valley is in a protected spot. I don't believe in global warming. That is not the man-made kind that Al Gore preaches. I think our weather changes come about as part of the great cycles that embrace the earth over the eons. Ice ages come and go. Fertile lands become deserts and then revert. So, stay out of it, Al.

I'm just sayin'

Good Dog Days of Summer

July burst upon us like fireworks. The day after Independence Day I was delighted to officiate at my grandson’s wedding. Handsome, young Kenneth E. Cochrane, III was wed to the beautiful Miss Melissa Bricker at a chapel in Newcastle, Calif. More than one hundred guests, family and friends, were in attendance. The day was perfect with temperatures in the mid-80s and a gentle breeze blowing as the ceremony was held outdoors. Photos have been posted on the MyFamily.com page and potential members can gain access by contacting me at 2377cochranek@comcast.net

Since this is the month of my birth I became self indulgent and bought myself a gift. I purchased an electronic book reader called the Kindle. This is an amazing device that is produced by Amazon.com. It is a slim hand held, light weight product that can hold hundreds of books in its memory that are downloaded from the internet. It is connected to Amazon by using the Sprint cell phone technology, which allows one to access the huge library of electronic books held by that company for possible purchase and downloading to the Kindle, and with no access fee. Each page of a book appears on the Kindle’s screen, one after the other, by the simple touch of a side control key. The screen is designed to be glare proof and is not back-lit like a computer (which is hard on the eyes) but works by using a magnetic system like an etch-a-sketch which forms the page duplication in many shades of grey-to-black. It is like reading a newspaper or an actual printed book. The Kindle even remembers where you left off in a book and will take you to that spot automatically whenever you want to continue. Electronic books from Amazon cost from ‘free’ to $9.95 for selections from the New York Times best seller list. Downloading a book takes about 60 seconds and there is no extra charge beyond the book’s price.

This modern miracle is so light and small enough to fit in a purse or jacket pocket that it enables one to carry a huge library along on any trip, to the local market or to Europe. It is powered by special batteries that permit one to read for 4 days or more without recharging. The recharging is done with a provided adapter and cord, which also can be used to connect with one’s computer. You can carry your library with you to enjoy a read in the park, at the beach or while dining in a restaurant. It works anywhere your cell phone does. To learn more about this product go to Amazon.com for complete descriptions and even a video showing how it works.

This week we also had a huge pine tree in our front yard cut down. A couple of tree climbers with chain saws made quick work of the job. The old tree had been planted years ago too close to the house. It’s limbs were dying and dropping debris on the roof and the root system was becoming a threat to underground plumbing and a potential danger to the home’s foundation. So now new morning light is coming to our kitchen while the other many trees we have provide shade and protection from the afternoon sun.
Our July weather has been mild so far. My son's Yorkies, Jake and Elwood, have romped and played in the back yard; and, in sports, the ’boys of summer’ provide exciting baseball games across the land. Last night my favorite team the San Francisco Giants enjoyed a spectacular performance by a rookie pitcher who completed a “no hitter” to establish his name in the team’s history of great games. It was an emotional moment that was documented in today’s newspapers.
August may bring some more welcome surprises and happy events. I may be an optimist and expect too much but I think each day is exciting and a great day for America.

I am “Just Sayin’”

Joys of June

I have been busy the past week moving things into a new room, added to my single room living quarters. This addition has become available as my grandson Kenneth III moved into his new apartment, in preparation for beginning a new life as a married man. Kenneth will wed Melissa Bricker, a beautiful young lady who is employed with a Christian Radio broadcasting station. They will wed in Newcastle, Calif. on July 5th and I have been honored as their choice to officiate the ceremony. While I rejoice at their happiness I will miss having Kenneth around on a daily basis. The extra living space is small recompense for this loss.

As an adjunct to the moving process I have discovered several treasures that had remained hidden in the deep recesses of dark closets and under piles of books and notebooks that have cluttered the floor of my single room abode. Treasures such as forgotten family photos (a couple of which I have posted on MyFamily site). Also found were diaries and journals that detailed the events of earlier days. There were outdated magazines and clothes to be thrown away or donated. It has been an exciting but taxing chore and I am not finished yet.

My son Kennie and grandson Glenn traveled a few miles south last evening to visit my niece Lisa Machado. Lisa has been fighting a long, long battle with breast cancer. Through several years of treatment she has remained strong, courageous and of good cheer. Earlier this year she traveled to China with her sister Leslie and visited the Great Wall. She is now planning a short cruise. She values every day and is a sparkling example of the strength and beauty of the human soul. We should all help in the fight against this and other life threatening diseases. Donations help in the modern research that will find cures.

In spite of the dire threats of global warming our central valleys in California have enjoyed beautiful and mild spring weather. Daily sprinkles and showers have graced our foothills and pleasant temperatures have beckoned folks outdoors. We give thanks for the blessings bestowed. Horrid headlines notwithstanding there are some good things going on. I am

Just Sayin’

May Has Flown

I haven’t published in almost a month. My blog should be like a journal but I seem to think of it late in each day and I don’t function as well in the evening. Certainly not with any literary skills. Evenings are devoted to TV - - - a national habit, I suppose. However, there were some significant events worth mentioning in the last few weeks.
The first event to impact our personal lives was an accident suffered by my son Kennie, Jr. He commonly rides his bicycle to work each morn, mainly for the exercise. And, about a month ago while circling to await a light change he took a header, landing awkwardly on his right shoulder. The fall bruised him well and separated his shoulder severely. His doctor felt that surgery was not necessary and the injury would heal in time. Thus, he has been wrestling with a sling-harness for some time. After the initial days of pain he has been healing well and now only uses the harness during work hours. He has learned to manipulate things with his left hand and last night he ventured to the gym for a work out on the tread mill. He has always been athletic and this leisure pace forced upon him has been his largest headache. His surfing weekends at his home in Dillon Beach have been reduced to long walks on the beach and grinding tours up the steep hills. But, full recovery is now in sight and he looks forward to swimming with the Great Whites again soon.

My daughter Andrea was able to sneak a vacation from her grueling schedule and visit me from Utah in May. We spent a week of relaxing and trading family gossip. We also managed to test the local eateries - - - dining in eclectic manner from truck-stop fry cooking fare to the elegance of a 4-star restaurant. Andrea took the time to teach me about her new Kindle, an electronic marvel that allows one to read books that are reproduced on a screen that you can hold in your hand. The marvel is that the Kindle feels like a real book, turns pages with a flick of the finger, has a no-glare screen that uses a magnetically managed page reproduction which makes the experience like reading an actual book instead of suffering a computer screen presentation and it weighs about 10 ounces. You can put it in your coat pocket. It also will hold hundreds of books in memory that can be brought to the screen with a touch of the key board You carry a library with you!. These books are easily downloadable from Amazon with prices ranging from free to $9.95 for New York Times best-sellers lists. Once purchased or down loaded they remain yours forever, kept by Amazon in your account for free. The Kindle works like a cell phone so you can access the web wherever that service is available without charge. Otherwise it works on its batteries which are rechargeable and last when on for at least 4 days reading on a single charge. As you can tell - - - I am a big fan of this device. Did I mention that it keeps your place in a book when you pause your reading? And, if you like it will present you each morn with your favorite newspaper to leaf through with a simple subscription fee.

Planning is in the final stages for my grandson Kenneth III’s wedding on July 5th to Melissa Bricker in Newcastle, Calif. Kenneth has shared this Sacramento home with his father and I for the past few years. He will be moving to a new apartment this week as he prepares to begin his new adventure as a married man. I have been honored to serve as the minister for Kenneth and Melissa’s marriage ceremony.
The weather in June has been strange and exciting as we endured a rare thunder storm that lit our city with multiple lightning strikes. The accompanying rain was appreciated. Now a stationary weather low is bringing cool delta breezes and moderate temperatures in the 70s to our valley. Perhaps this is a harbinger of a moderate summer as well. We will greet it with delight.

Just Sayin’

Blogger Blues

I am a poor blogger (is that a word?). As I read other web blogs I am envious of the ease with how the writers seem to just let the words flow. It is like listening to them speak with you in conversation. And, I am sure, that is what a blog is supposed to be. I, in contrast, seem to feel that I should tackle important worldly subjects. Wars, Taxes, Health, Weather, and Disasters. I suppose that is the teacher coming out. Well, I would really like to change that. Opinions are one thing but lectures are another. So, with your kind permission, I will henceforth try to relate my encounters in daily life. Maybe rant a little when things bug me; perhaps share some happy moments; wander a bit and discourse on the mysteries we all meet with and the challenges we face.

Tomorrow my daughter Andrea will arrive for a short visit. All her visits are way too short. We need a Super Train like the Japanese have to bridge the distance between our homes. Airplanes are faster, but travel by air is such a hassle now. The Bush terrorist phobia has taken away our freedom to enjoy. Who wants to live in a society that says you can’t bring your body lotion or your shaving cream with you on a trip. Freedom always poses a risk - - - but Americans have always been willing to pay that price. It was stated precisely by Patrick Henry when he spoke the words “Give me Liberty or give me Death.” But, Andrea will brave the indignity of a body scan, remove her shoes, allow her personal belongings to be x-rayed, provide federally mandated identity papers and wait an hour or so beforehand before being allowed, under parole, to join strangers in a plane with recirculated air and extra charge amenities. However, she will get a free demonstration of how to use her seat cushion as a flotation device, although she will not be flying over any water. Her baggage will be mishandled and, if it arrives, she will have to push her way to the baggage turntable to make sure she can grab what’s left. The bag, suitcase, or whatever will be covered with identity cards that no one will check when she leaves the terminal. Fortunately there may be a shuttle bus waiting that she can board that will bring her to me. If a friend or relative were to pick her up he/she would have to circle the curbside loading area until she appeared or park in an expensive zone at least two blocks from the terminal. Not my idea of a way to begin a short vacation. So, there I have ranted a bit.

We will have lots to talk about. The minutiae of our daily lives; the family gossip; new friends we met and new things we acquired. I am eager to see her new Kindle, an electronic marvel of the world of books. She will introduce me to the wonders of the Ipod as I am of an older generation electronic age. I was among the first with TV, with personal computing, and electric shaving; but, I now lag behind the latest innovations. I have enough problems trying to tackle MySpace, Facebook, and now Twitter. We will also enjoy dining out together as we sample some of the area’s remaining eateries. Yes, the recession has taken a toll there, too. I am excited about her visit and maybe we can blog and twitter together for you tomorrow. I am - - - -

Just Sayin’

Media Fears

The current fear topic dominating the media is Swine Flu. This topic of “fear” is not meant to belittle the legitimate concerns of medical professionals or those of the public at large. But it hopes to point out that the blatant headlines and feature stories capping the television news programs are usually those that spread doom, disaster and depression across the land. One need take a view from afar of such exclamatory news flashes and viewer enticing tales.

I have lived long enough to remember the bold headlines in the 30s that detailed the crash of the stock market and the newsboys cries of horror on Wall Street as he peddled the morning papers. So mesmerizing was the fear spreading across the nation that people committed suicide rather than face the future. Those victims who found their stock dropping to ridiculous lows should have held on a couple of years and lived to enjoy the rich rewards that followed. Fear multiplies itself. It is worse than any invading virus can be in the effect upon lives and fortunes. And, usually, we find our worst fears are as ephemeral as ghosts. There are 15 New Cases of Swine Flu in California cries out the morning headline. Wow! Following story doesn’t bother to mention that it is flu season and we can expect thousands of cases of some kind of flu. Actually the cases mentioned were of those who had only mild symptoms and all recovered. Sore throats and stuffy noses. The many deaths in Mexico reported were not all connected to the virus.

I also remember the terror that swept the northeastern states when a radio broadcast meant to present a fictional drama by Orson Wells caused a panic. His dramatic weekly episode featured an invasion of earth by Martians. And at least twice during the broadcast it was stated that the presentation was fiction. I actually listened to that broadcast and thoroughly enjoyed it. But, many people packed up and fled their homes in terror.

In the 1960s or 70s there was the warning spread across the nation by the media that a substance found in cranberries could cause cancer. Did this help anyone? No, but it virtually put those who depended on producing and selling cranberries out of business. The warning turned out to be an exaggeration of test findings.

What about the slow death that was promised those who lived in houses invaded by the deadly gas radon? Yes, this earth element was seeping into homes and threatening lives; and, almost every home had its presence. It was advised that you should have your home tested. Again, people reacted to the fear headlines.

Here in Sacramento the media began the fear mongering of the danger of earthquakes. Playing off the quakes that shook the Bay Area, a program of quake-proofing our public schools and buildings was begun. Who profited? Contractors, of course. I watched some beautiful buildings be torn down and replaced by hum-drum squat buildings, taking away some beauty of our city. Well, after spending over ¾ of a century in this city I have experienced only one handful of earthquakes. Damage done? Some cans fell off grocery shelves and out of home cupboards. We live in a flat valley with no fault lines below and a river bottom of hard clay as our foundation. I know about earthquakes elsewhere as I lived on top of some in Southern California and near an active volcano in the north. I don’t worry about earthquakes in Sacramento.

Our current fears are encouraged to grow by the present flu scare and of course the danger of drowning in super floods. Yes, we have floods here and need to keep our levies repaired. But, watch out for that 100 year flood that will turn us all into Noahs. The media is slacking off now about floods because summer is approaching; so, we begin the draught fears. There may be snow in the mountains but tests show that it is the low-water bearing kind. (?) Folsom lake is very low now. Why is that scary? I remember walking across that land before the lake was formed. Can’t get any lower than that. I also can travel a short distance and watch two great rivers come together after flowing through our city. They have been doing that since before the days of the first American explorers reached our valley. Water shortage? I hear it every year. We should pay normal attention to all these valid concerns but “fear,” I am - - - - -
Just Sayin'

A View of Sports

I recently wrote of my lifetime love of sports but neglected to elucidate on my own view of what I consider to be true sports. I think my own evaluation of whether a pastime is a sport or just a game is based on whether or not there is a physical competition in play that comprises an athletic ability of some serious kind. The competition need not be restricted to competing against others but could be against oneself as in a timed event or an athletic ‘best.”

Within those parameters then I do not consider Golf a sport. It is a game. You try to hit the ball to a certain area and get it in a hole in the fewest amount of club swings. It can be played sufficiently well by anyone - - whether 90 yrs. old or a pre-teen. Jack Nicholson could still beat any average golfer. My grandson was a serious player at the age of 9 yrs. You can be fat (some pro golfers are) or tiny as some young women are who play with the pros. No athletic prowess is required.

Bowling is not a sport. It is a game. The fact that one may compete against others does not make it a sport. I was on a bowling team that included a man in his late 80s and he did very well. Children can bowl in competition.

The same criteria apply to games such as curling, pancake racing, dart board, pinball, horse shoes, chess and checkers. You may be a champion at any of these or the world’s best; however, you are not necessarily an athlete or participating in a sport.

By the same token I do count as sports the following: marathon running; track and field events; weight lifting; most Scottish Games events; bicycle racing; NASCAR racing; ping pong; volley ball; and, events that require athletic ability to be good at the sport. Some, such as professional wrestling, I consider sports even though they are merely exhibitions. Like tumbling and acrobatics it requires great athletic skill to perform. And I do consider hockey a sport although I sometimes wonder why the rules permit the violence of fist-fighting while other respectable sports severely punish such infractions. In basketball and even football such encounters require immediate rejection from the contest accompanied by monetary fines. But, there is no doubt that to play hockey professionally one must be very athletic. In the photo above is a classic example of a legend in that sport. Claude Lemieux, a New Jersey player who has returned to this sport at the age of 43 and was the participant in 3 Stanley Cup championships. He may not be pretty to look at but he is still a wonder to watch on the ice. Maybe they should wear boxing gloves instead of hockey gloves but - - - I am

Just Sayin’

Sports Mania

I am a sports fan. But, apparently, most Americans are also. I watched on TV the NCAA college basketball tournament each day as the field of 64 was narrowed down to the “Final Four” and then the championship game on Monday night, April 6th when the University of North Carolina “Tar Heels” defeated the “Spartans” of Michigan State. Present at this game were about 73,000 fans. That’s more than the population of a great many cities in the U.S. It is more than three times the population of the city I moved from in Arizona, and I thought that place was getting crowded.

My love affair with sports began when I was in grade school and played soccer and soft ball. I was small and fast and found I could compete in those sports as well as track events. Then I began to see the great prize fights of the day when title fights were shown on screen during the Saturday movie matinees. Does anyone still remember the double feature movies, the cartoons, and the Flash Gordon spaceman weekly chapters offered each Saturday for the price of one dime? I listened to radio broadcasts of boxing matches from the early Joe Louis contests until the present. I also attended wrestling matches from the age of 7 on Monday nights at the Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento. It took awhile for me to realize that these were actually just exhibitions of athleticism.

My sports interests grew and eventually included most categories. With the advent of television I was able to watch pro football and basketball games; the college teams competing in all sports and became a devoted fan of soccer (called football in the rest of the world) and the teams in Britain’s Premier League and the leagues in Germany, France and Spain. Sports events put life on the big stage, providing (as TV has often put it) the triumph of victory and the tragedy of defeat. We can follow and become emotionally attached to the teams or individuals that compete. As in the basketball tournament mentioned above, I became a fan and follower of the teams from North Carolina and Duke Universities many years ago. Perhaps because I was an extension student of No. Carolina and had a friend who graduated from Duke. I remember sending a “Tar Heel” team cap to my daughter once who thought it was “cool.”

Crowds of 75,000 to 90,000 plus are not unusual in attendance at college football games. Major league baseball attracts 30,000 and up for games that are played almost daily. The big events such as the Kentucky Derby ( I attended in 1943), the Masters golf tournament, the Super Bowl, pro-basketball championship, NASCAR championship, the Indy 500, and other title events are always sold out. Pay-for-Vue now rakes in millions for title boxing matches, the martial arts competitions, and selected premium events. Yes, there is a sports mania across America. Maybe not everyone is so involved but I am
Just Sayin’

Nothing to Sneeze At

I have written about my strange food allergies before. Briefly again: I get ill when eating most any vegetable that is green. There are minor exceptions such as lettuce or green beans and green peas. It is legendary in my family that “Grandpa won’t eat green things!“ Also on the allergy list are most sea foods or others with a fish taste. As a child I was just considered a ‘picky eater.” Allergies were not popularly known or appreciated. Today it seems they are pandemic. We are deluged with drug advertisements on TV and in other media that promise relief. Often the drug side affects are more frightening than the relief you seek.

I can think of only two other allergies that I may have. One is peculiar in that it causes me to sneeze 3 times in a row and rarely a 4th time! This happens when I feel a sudden chill on the back of my neck. Not like when you watch a scary movie and something frightening is about to happen; but, when the nape of the neck actually becomes cool for one reason or another. Most often it occurs when I step out of the morning shower. It can happen when the air conditioner comes on or when I happen to encounter a breeze. The most unusual occasion of its onset came when I was vacationing in Hawaii. I had a reservation to attend the Don Ho dinner show one evening and as I and my party stepped off the elevator a young Hawaian lady placed a lei of small blossoms around my neck. Soon after we were seated I began the 3 sneeze routine. My cousin asked if I was O.K. and I said that I felt fine but sometimes had this peculiar allergy and explained it. She laughed and said “Well you have that damp lei around your neck.” Yes, that was the culprit. An awkward moment but it was relieved later when Don Ho asked if there were any WWII veterans in the house and would they please stand up. I did; was the only veteran - - so he applauded and sent a bottle of champagne to our table.

The only other allergy I recall suffering came a few years ago when I attended a Country Line-Dance performance that my sister was participating in at the city park in Lodi, Calif. As I was watching from a folding chair on the park lawn I began sneezing and my eyes began stinging and watering. Finally I had to leave. My sister caught up with me as I walked towards the car a few blocks away. We decided that the falling blossoms from the park Cottonwood trees were the cause. They floated everywhere in the area. And, sure enough, as we increased our distance from that place my discomfort lessened and quit.

Strangely enough I have never experienced any other symptoms of allergy. Even as a child I have been able to handle poison oak or ivy and its threatening compounds without an itch or a blemish. Contrarily, my mother could become deathly ill by coming within 10 feet of these plants. Several times so seriously ill that she was hospitalized. Perhaps I gained genetic immunity from her trials with these beautiful plants. Mosquito bites, spider bites, bee or wasp stings have little effect on me. Last year I was bitten by a Black Widow and it only caused a minor skin irritation. My immunity shot for small pox as an infant left no scar that is usually present on the arm of those inoculated. And later booster shots in the army left no evidence of the need. So - - I have been very lucky. Such allergies as listed above may provide a source of humor to the unaffected, but for those who have them - - -it is no joke - - I am
Just Sayin’

Amazing Free Offer by Andrea - - But Odd

Below is today's posting by my daughter Andrea. She is also at the left in photo with her sister and my other beautiful daughter Meaghan posing on the Fair Oaks River bridge.

*Voiceofangel*
Monday, March 2, 2009

Free! .. ?
Free Give-Away!!What free?!?Here's how it works...The first four people to comment on this post will get something from me, made by me. My choice--but just for you.This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I give!2. What I create will be just for you.3. It will be done this year (hopefully, even this month!!!)4. You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry or an article. I may draw or paint something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!5. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must re-post this on your blog.The first 4 people to do so and leave a comment telling me you did, will win a marvelous homemade gift by me!Let the games begin!Oh, and I have to be able to contact you with mailing information!Good Luck to all!Ah, reposting things.. I did this in order to win something from my aunt, possibly. I hope I get whatever it is she decides I have if I happened to be one of the first four. And if any of you comment on this.. damn. :D
Posted by voiceofangel at 2:07 AM 0 comments

Don't Fool With Mother Nature!

I was concerned by TV news reports yesterday that two NFL football players along with two friends who played in Florida were missing after failing to return from a fishing trip in the seas of the Florida gulf. One of the men, Marquis Cooper, was owner of the boat. Marquis was a former San Francisco 49er linebacker and currently plays for the Oakland Raiders. The other pro-player is Corey Smith, a defensive end for the Detroit Lions. The men left Saturday morning, Feb. 28th on a fishing trip in a 21 foot vessel and failed to return to the dock where they left a vehicle and boat trailer. Shortly after their departure a storm system moved into the gulf, producing high waves and strong winds. The U.S. Coast Guard has begun a search.

Through the years I have had occasions to be acquainted with the dangers provided by nature’s force in storm, flood, fire and earthquake.. They taught me to have a healthy and definite respect for such threats. As a child I once found myself adrift in the river on an inflated automobile inner tube. While family members enjoyed a picnic on the beach I sailed downriver lying on my back across this rubber raft. The problem was that no one missed me and I was too far away to cry for help. I somehow managed to slip inside the tube’s circle and support myself while trying to touch bottom. Eventually the slow current let me paddle towards shore and my toes to touch the river’s silt bottom. I was a lucky 7 year old. Flirting with the American River seemed to be a habit for me. It was there I learned to swim in one day - - when my cousins from the Fair Oaks area tossed me from an embankment into the river to swim or sink. That was their loving way to teach me how to survive in water. It worked. Desperate people achieve amazing results. I was about 9 at the time and later in my teen age years I pulled a few frantic vacationers from peril at the same location. I had enhanced my skills as a swimmer by then.

An experience with the ocean’s fury came during the war years when I made a crossing in a Liberty troop ship from New York to Great Britain. We limped into port with a 30 degree list after being battered by an Atlantic storm. What I mostly remember is how I was able to enjoy the voyage without sea-sickness. Most everyone I knew aboard became deathly ill. But I, as one who suffered car sickness after every trip longer than 5 miles, was completely unaffected. I was happy to lie on top deck and watch the horizon rise and fall with each wave. I must assume that my early problems with auto travel were due to the fumes from the exhaust systems in those vehicles as I spent the time in the back seat. I have fished in small lakes when the water was rough and found my discomfort was not from sickness but from the cold and wet of the sport - - trying to catch fish I would never eat. What will we not suffer for friendship? Other annoying encounters with the ocean include being slammed to the bottom by the legendary 9th wave. If you come up you are coughing and gasping for air, trying to rid yourself of the salt water you swallowed. My son and grandson cannot get enough of this. They enjoy testing their survival instincts every weekend by surfing the big waves off the Pacific coast. During this enjoyment, my son has rubbed shoulders with passing whales, helped rescue other surfers from serious encounters with Great White sharks; and, suffered concussions from flying surf boards as he fought to emerge from heavy wave battering. Yet yesterday eve he returned to his Sacramento home, bubbling with the excitement of a perfect surf that accompanied the current storm system that has reached us. Go figure.

Fire has also furnished a few thrills. The most serious was a grass fire started by two little boys playing with matches. My family and I were camping with friends at Hogan’s Dam in central California when I noticed smoke rising from the wild wheat fields that surrounded our campsite. I and a friend raced to the spot and started beating at the flames with blankets, trying to smother the spreading fire. It was nip and tuck for several minutes but we finally gained control as a forest service truck arrived to help. These arid fields were also dotted with old oak trees and the entire campground would have been destroyed in only a short time had we failed. I have put out fires in kitchen ovens often. Once my mother opened an oven door on a gas stove to check on baking food and the pilot light had failed. The resultant accumulation of gas was ignited by the stove top burners and exploded, tossing mother across the room and burning her face and arms. Fortunately the blast put out its own flames and only caused minor injury. She did lose her eyebrows for a while.

Beautiful snow can also be hazardous to your health. Frostbite, snow blindness, loss of direction, avalanche and hidden dangers buried in drifts can change your life. I spent too many hours in snow country. I did not like it. It was also in the High Sierras that I learned to endure that elevator stomach feeling when most every day brought an earthquake because of looming Mt. Lassen, our close neighboring volcano. I have watched as the ground swell, like an ocean wave, raced to and under us with a low moan.

We are all held in awe by nature’s wonder and beauty. The crashing waves and surf along our coastlines; the glistening snow that brings a catch to your breath as you view it; the thrilling sports that beckon and enthrall us, the wonder of a natural fire as nature tries to cleanse itself, and the beckoning of our great oceans that offer food and adventure have become the joys of our experience in life; but also, have too often brought tragedy and grief to others and their families. We pray for the missing fishermen and send positive thoughts to their families. This earth is a jewel to be explored and enjoyed, so please do participate and be active in discovering all its riches - - but I am - - -
Just sayin’

Just a Surfer Dude and Road Rat

Sean Penn
The 81st Academy Awards show was presented last night. It was one of the better ones I have viewed over the years. Acceptance speeches were limited in length and we weren’t held captive to view the awards for best assistant to the catering chef. Homage was paid to past winners and performers and previous winners were featured as presenters. The host was not a comedian but an actor who excelled in his command of the affair. And best of all, some deserving actors were the winners.

Chosen as the best performance by a leading actor was Sean Penn. Here is a dedicated, hard working actor who is an enigma to most everyone, friend and fan. His career has been a mixture of controversy and dispute. He grabbed early attention by his assault on the paparazzi who came too close for his comfort. This provided an example of his volatile nature. He has stated that he doesn’t like directors and most actors/actresses. In one instance he served jail time for attacking a film extra. He also said that the only legendary actor who didn’t disappoint him was Clint Eastwood.

But, contrarily, Sean is a humanitarian. I recall seeing him wading waist deep in the flood waters of New Orleans as he was among the earliest in trying to assist those in peril. Some time after the 9/11 tragedy he paid $56,000 to place an add in the Washington Post, asking President George Bush to slow his push for war in Iraq. He has visited Venezuela and African states on humanitarian missions.

Sean is the son of Leo Penn, actor and director, of Lithuanian and Russian descent, and actress Eileen Ryan, who appeared in one film as his grandmother. Leo was blacklisted during the McCarthy era investigations of communism in the movie industry for refusing to answer questions about his political beliefs. He had served as a bombardier in the Air Force during WWII. His own father was of Sephardic Jewish heritage with the surname Piñon. Leo and Eileen had two other sons: actor Chris Penn and musician Michael Penn. As a director Leo had credits in TV series shows such as Magnum P.I, Matlock, Kojak and episodes in many other popular series. He also appeared as an actor in these shows.

Sean was first married to musical star Madonna. He later described the marriage as “loud.” They were divorced in 1989. He was also briefly engaged to the sister of his good friend Bruce Springsteen, Pamela Springsteen. Both were in the movie “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Later in his life he had a daughter and a son with actress Robin Wright whom he later married. They moved their family to Marin county to raise their children outside the Hollywood environment.
Sean Penn puts everything into the characters he portrays on film. His choices are usually scripts that have a message of hope. He may appear to be a rebellious outcast but, I am - - -

Just sayin’

Let it Snow!

It almost snowed in Sacramento last week! I know!! It never (well, hardly ever) snows in Sacramento. I remember a real, stay-on-the-ground snowfall in 1940. It was fun to walk around in and toss snowballs. But, actually, I don’t have great memories of fun in the snow. Here’s what I do remember.

As a grade school lad I lived in the northern Coast Range mountains of California in a plain pine board cabin that had survived the ‘49er days. For you youngsters that is 1849 goldminer days. My step-dad was a deep well driller and he was employed to dig a deep test shaft to find possible gold deposit ore. We had no place to live so when we passed this abandoned two room cabin nestled against a cliff by the roadside we stopped and moved in. It was mid-winter and we had to stuff the cracks between the side boards with newspaper to keep the cold out. My misery in the snow came when I had to walk about 2 miles along the treacherous one lane dirt road to and from a one-room school with about 15 students. I was the 3rd grade. The mining company that hired my step-dad added to my adventure by blasting into the mountain alongside the road from time to time. They would blow a loud steam whistle 5 mins. before blasting so anyone near could find shelter from falling debris. Crouching in the freezing snow to keep from being bombarded by rock is not a fun thing. I survived the winter with only one bout of pneumonia. But good things happened as well. You could view the beautiful Mount Shasta wearing its white mantel in the distance and directly to the east the peak of Mount Lassen, an active volcano, with a wisp of vapor crowning its top. And, my mother taught me how to make a poor man’s ice cream by adding milk, sugar and vanilla to a bowl full of snow and setting it outside for a few minutes.

I also dwelled in the Sierra Nevada mountains at the base of Mt. Lassen, a peak I climbed with my wife and sons and where we found that after a venture into the crater, lined at its crest with snow, it was quite warm from the lava buried below. Nearby close to the base of the peak there are bubbling hot springs. The snow gets deep in the surrounding area and the village of Mineral had few inhabitants in winter when the drifts can imprison one in his home. Frostbite is a common hazard. Keeping warm was a daily task. Only one hill provided a skiing slope that was used in the springtime by visiting college students. This was not my favorite winter resort. I did watch the skiers from the warmth of the Mineral Lodge while testing a hot toddy.
My relationship with snow was really tested during World War II when I spent a good deal of time living in foxholes buried in blankets of this stuff. I suffered severe frostbite to my toes and endured other unpleasant problems; like having to kick loose the slide action on my rifle that froze during the nights; being buried by overnight snowfall in outpost foxholes so that the relief guards couldn’t find me. Using an open slit trench as a latrine where that area was frozen slick with ice. Hazardous.

So, I do not find snow the appealing weather condition that provides enjoyment. I know that it is welcomed by many and encourages lots of holiday settings and sports that most probably enjoy, so it may snow in Sacramento but - - - - - I am
Just sayin’

Valentine Story # 2

I met Karilyn in roundabout way. A family friend, Vivian Smothers, who had lived in Rio Linda, Calif. close to my home before moving away to Heyburn, Idaho gave me a call. She had married and after some problems moved back to California with her two sons to find work. She called soon after her return to let me know her whereabouts and to catch up on family news. I had been widowed for a few years and was delighted to hear from a friend. We chatted and I asked her to join me for lunch. She said that it might be difficult as she had a “terrible two” year old son. I laughed and said that children were never terrible and he would be welcome. She added that she also had a young woman with her who was going to care for her sons (she had two) while she worked. I told her to bring her along as well.

I chose a nearby Mexican restaurant called “The White Horse” that I knew served a variety of tasty ethnic meals that could offer something for everyone. And, when I arrived ahead of time I was astonished to find that this favorite dining spot had changed! It was now a Japanese restaurant. Seems I had been out of touch for awhile.
Vivian and child soon arrived accompanied by her child care assistant. I watched as they approached and we were introduced. Karilyn was a tall, blonde young lady with a very straight posture. She was wearing a light colored blouse and a blue paisley skirt as well as a brilliant wide smile that immediately captured your attention. In the ensuing conversation she seemed at ease and displayed intelligence and a quick wit. I was eager to catch up with all that happened to Vivian since her departure, so we lingered over lunch for awhile. At some point I mentioned how I had become almost a hermit, seldom venturing out except for family affairs and missed the frequent dine-out forays I had made in the city and surrounding areas. I said that now that Vivian was back in town I would love to have her join me in checking out the various eateries from time to time; and, then I ventured to Karilyn: “You, as well, I would like to double my opportunities to get out to dinner more frequently.” She smiled and said “Okay.” The strange coincidence of this first meeting is that it was St. Valentine’s Day.

After a few days I did invite Vivian to join me for dinner and a visit to a local club where my son was performing as lead guitarist with a rock-n-roll band. It was nice to get out for a change. A week or so later during an afternoon I got a call from Karilyn. She was right to the point. She said I had offered to take Vivian and her out to dinner but had not yet received her invitation. I had made the offer as the polite and proper thing to do but was delighted that she had accepted. Thus I arranged to pick her up at Vivian’s parent’s home in Rio Linda one evening and I took her to an unusual dining spot. The Red Baron at the Sacramento Executive Airport where as we dined we could watch the planes take off and land. This dinner lasted for four hours! We couldn’t stop talking. We had so much to share. She told me of her childhood, how she had spent her high school years in a body cast because of a life-threatening spinal condition that needed correction (thus the erect posture); how she had worked in the large potato shipping plants in Idaho; attended Brigham Young Univ. briefly; worked as an Au Pair with a prominent family in Connecticut (see note below); served as an office assistant in a Public Relations firm that handled celebrities in Salt Lake City, was employed in the office of an insurance company and was now recently employed as all-around office clerk for a refrigeration firm in our city. Note: An au pair lives with a host family for a short period of time, between 1 month and 2 years, and is primarily responsible for looking after the children and doing light housework. Au pair duties may include driving children to and from school or helping with homework. Au Pairs can help a family by providing flexible, affordable and live-in child care for around a thousand dollars a month. The host family of an au pair will provide room and board.

Karilyn was great company and I continued to badger her to dine out and I called on her at her work place often. My old Army buddy was Vivian’s father and he worked at the refrigeration company as well. He only knew me as “Scotty” and in conversation with Karilyn on their commute homeward he would talk of our times together. One day he mentioned that he thought “Scotty” was “falling for” her. She looked puzzled and said who is this “Scotty?” He replied “Well, he is Ken.” I do not know her reaction at that moment.

As time went by we began to date more often and eventually it was apparent that I had indeed “fallen for” this young lady. She was not put off by the attention but it was obvious that there were several barriers to a closer relationship. First there was the differences in religion. Karilyn was from parent’s who were descended from the earliest members of the Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints. She was brought up steeped in the doctrines of her faith. I was a non-denominational minister. Further, I was a generation older and this would be a May-September romance. In long discussions about these problems we somehow found a middle ground or the decision that it didn’t matter. In time I asked her to marry me and offered a ring. She would only accept it as a “Maybe Ring.” In the meantime we traveled to Rupert, Idaho to visit with her family. I also fell immediately in love with them. What a delight to meet her vivacious, talented mother and to exchange war stories with her dad. The children were happy to crawl all over this stranger in their midst and to be staring at me close up at first dawn when I awoke in the morn. They ranged from toddler to college age; all bursting with bright intelligence and exuberance.
Back in Sacramento after dinner at my home late in December. Karilyn said “Do you remember your proposal?” I momentarily panicked and said “Yes.” A pause and then she said “I accept.” We were married the following week. It often pays to take a chance. We have two beautiful, lovely daughters and a strong intellectual son. While we are not still together I love them all and I’m
Just sayin’

Valentine Stories

As Valentine’s Day approaches I thought it might be appropriate to tell the story of my own two marriages and how I met each of those young ladies. This is primarily done for the purpose of providing a record for any one of family or friends who are interested in family history or romance. Readers must remember that the following is from my own memory and any living person familiar with my history may have a differing view, memory or version. My meeting as a widower with the lady of my second marriage will follow in the next entry.

I met my first wife, Virginia Theresa Maue, in Cincinnati, Ohio in the summer of 1943 and the occasion was detailed in my publication of World War II correspondence “Love, Pain and the Whole Damn Thing.” This volume’s notes were written in the third person as it was the only way I could take an objective view; and, here is how I told it then:

Ken and three buddies had managed 5-day passes and, with an actual flip of a coin, decided to visit Cincinnati (The Queen City) instead of Indianapolis. They arrived there in time to celebrate Ken's birthday; and, after a quick survey of the city, they quickly learned from the local citizenry that the place to visit was "Coney Island," an amusement park on an island in the Ohio river (and parent company to the famous New York amusement center) close to the city. Thus, a visit to sample the fun was undertaken. Ken and his best friend, Keith Howe, were accompanied by two older fellows, who suggested they go in pairs, to facilitate the chance of meeting some girls.
It did not take the older lads long to meet and introduce themselves to two young ladies strolling the carnival area. Ken and Howie, both shy to the point of retardation, were not so fortunate. As they wandered aimlessly about, one of the afore-mentioned lads approached and explained that they had met two young girls, who were really "too young" girls. He (Wesley Fitzgerald) suggested that Ken and Howie, as a favor to both pairs, act as replacements. The suggestion shocked Ken, and his remarks were something to the effect that, "One just can't barge up and take over!"
To ease Ken's sensibilities, it was then proposed that Ken and Keith "happen" by and get properly introduced; whereupon, "Fitz" and the other soldier would state that they were going to go fetch some soft drinks. Once gone - - - they would never return! This plan was put into action, and it worked perfectly. After waiting the polite and obligatory amount of time, the newly introduced couples proceeded to explore and enjoy the rides and food of the amusement park together. The girls gave their ages as 16 (they lied!), and dates were made for a later week-end. This unusual meeting provides the following story, as told by the volumes of correspondence that ensued. Such are the lots that Fate casts to spell our fortunes.

This same week-end provided the opportunity for Ken to meet two other girls of the city. One, Geneva Land, he also met at Coney Island. She was older than Ken, seemed sophisticated, beautiful, brunette, bought him a birthday gift, and appeared immediately interested. He was intrigued and flattered. The other, Emelia Manocchi, was also beautiful; but, in contrast, blonde, sixteen, and seemingly helpless and needful of a strong protector. Ken was captivated. For the moment, he was enthralled by these two new friends. Virginia Theresa Maue was, at the time, an enigma. She was shy and yet strong, joyous in her appreciation of the excitement offered by the park, and yet seeming somehow to be hiding a great sorrow. So tiny, and yet so vital and lively. Something insisted that he know her better, and thus his offer to write her. But, in the meantime, there were other fish to fry. However, that "something" was already at work, and in the ensuing days it became apparent that this diminutive lass was going to crowd out his feelings for the other two. It would become no contest. He was confused at first, reluctant to let go of his relationship with Geneva, and astonished at the intensity of feeling displayed by Emelia. But he was overwhelmed by the emotions evoked by his "Jimmie."

Ken knew early on that Jimmie was the one he loved intensely; that he had to shed his attachment to the others. But, how was this caring and sensitive lad to sever these ties without causing pain? He did not find it easy, and continued to procrastinate and keep alive the friendships, hoping for an easy solution. One of life's most difficult lessons was still to be learned. Perhaps it never would be. Where the heart is involved, hurt is often nearby.

Ken and Virginia were married in Cincinnati about 6 weeks after his return from 3 yrs. of service overseas.

Did your spouse, father, or grandfather propose marriage in a romantic location or in a unique way? Is there a funny story of how grandpa finally won grandma's heart? Or vice versa? How did you meet your sweetheart? These are the stories that typically can't be found in records. Take a few moments to document them so that future generations will know the story too. Have a happy Valentine's Day!

Murder in Malmedy

The day was gloomy with a grey overcast as our column trudged up the tree-lined road that led to the Belgian village of Malmedy. Snow covered the road and fields and we were wearing white “Long John” underwear over our uniforms to help with camouflage. I remember that in spite of the cold temperature, well below freezing, I was perspiring from the march and carrying the weight of my back-pack, weapons, and belt tools. I was the lead scout on my platoon’s mission to recover the area where a massacre of American soldiers by a German combat unit of the 1st SS Panzer Division took place on Dec. 17, 1944. It was there about 100 captive American soldiers were marched into a field and systematically shot. A few survived to carry the story to our troops.

As we approached the small valley or glen that was the scene of the tragedy my squad Platoon Leader, Lt. Beardsley, asked me to accompany him to the nearest home that was visible. He needed my services as a translator of any inhabitants, who would be speaking French. After knocking and finding an elderly couple he asked, through me, if there were any German soldiers nearby. They replied that the Germans had left and were probably now positioned on the low foothills that rose in the north of this valley. I cautioned them to stay inside and protect themselves and we rejoined the squad.

As we continued our march the squad leader told us to make a line facing the foothills and to begin digging our foxholes. As first in line I moved forward and to the left and as I did so I spotted a small depression in the snow that looked like a suitable place to dig as it was already sunken below the ground level a few inches. This proved to be a mistake as it had been filled with water and now had a floor of ice. It was too late to change position as we had already begun to attract rifle fire. I chipped away with my entrenching tool, a small shovel with a folding handle. In time I had a spot fashioned where I could at least lie prone with reasonable protection. My spot was on the extreme end of the line on the left side. There was no visible target so we mainly just held our positions as the ground we occupied was the objective wanted by the higher command. They would later check the area carefully for evidence to use in any War Crimes trial that would follow the end of hostilities. But soon the opposition began to strengthen. A machine gun began to chatter from the hills; and, then, mortar shells began to land near us in the field. A very close shell landed just to my right and I felt the shock of the blast and a burning sensation on my back. I found that a fragment of the shell had landed midway on my back and was still very hot to the touch. I later carried that fragment of shell throughout my service as a good luck charm.
As the gunfire continued to gain in intensity and we began to fire back at the flashes my squad leader, Sgt. Irvine, yelled out “Who is on the end of the line?” I answered, “It is me, Scotty.” He then shouted “Go over to the Sgt. Harmon’s squad across the road and tell him to phone the Captain that we are getting heavy fire.”

This was a daunting task. The distance was probably 100 yds. over a white field of snow without a bush or tree to offer minimal protection. I yelled back an affirmative, took a deep breath and began a slogging run, zigzagging back and forth as I went. A sniper fired about two shots at me. I heard the first as it snapped by and the second just missed as I dove into the first foxhole of my destination. It happened to be a deep one dug by Sgt. Harmon himself and the bullet meant for me nicked him in the rear end. After catching my breath and examining the sergeant I used his first aid packet to dress his minor flesh wound with gauze and sulfa powder. He later was awarded the Purple Heart and you can bet I teased him about his wound for the rest of our service together.
Our troops managed to hold the ground until late at night. Then we were gathered into the basement of a home for protection as the enemy began to send Tiger tanks into the area. These fired 88 cal. shells like a huge rifle and we were no match for this opposition. We had one air recon officer with us but the overcast skies meant we could not expect any air support and his communication with any artillery units was unrewarding. Our commanding officer, a Major, contacted our Col. Irvine for advice and was given the order to hold our position! As the tank shells began to zero in on the house above us the Major decided to ignore the order and we began a retreat through the darkness toward our own main forward lines. In this instance I was the trailing soldier in a single file column with only the recon officer behind me. We had been cautioned to keep as silent as possible and to keep at least 10 ft. distance from the man in front. With the overcast no star or moonlight was visible and the darkness was pitch black. From time to time I had to turn back to the recon man and tell him to back off. Obviously he was very nervous and would move closer until he was virtually in lock step with me. In due time we passed by some soldiers on either side of the road who seemed to be digging in. You could hear them working and whispering occasionally, but we were never challenged. Maybe 20 minutes later we were challenged by a forward guard with “Halt! Who goes there?” It was an outpost and we were delighted to have reached our own lines. We mentioned passing the other soldiers without a challenge and he said “There are no other soldiers in front of me. You must have walked right through German troops.” This proved to be true.

The leaders of the unit involved in the massacre of our soldiers were brought to trial and convicted after the war. Co. “C” of our Armored Inf. Bn., were appointed special guards for the German leaders who were being tried at Nuremburg. This is just one episode of my service in combat. Life becomes one stressful occasion after another when fighting a war far from home and no end in sight; you have to live in the moment My heart goes out to those who are facing the same in our ventures overseas today and to their families and loved ones that anxiously await their return. Let’s speed up the return of our troops this year - - - I am
Just sayin’