HUMANE SOCIETY WEB PAGE WITH PICTURES
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SHIPSHEWANA INDIANA ADDRESS
The little village where I lived as a baby - my first home - one time had its own post office: Scott, Indiana. Then it was closed and when letters came to the house, they bore the address R.R. #1 Howe, Indiana. Not to confuse anyone more, but Howe had been called Lima when my grandmother graduated from high school in 1900. Anyway, by the time I got around to knowing the address, it was Howe . . . for awhile. Then, one day I found out we were going to be transferred to the Shipshewana post office.
At that time Shipshewana was not a well-known flea market and Amish shops attraction. Having the address change meant that I would have to spell Shipshewana to everyone who needed to know - college staff, telephone operators, and so on. I used to break it down: Ship . . . she . . . wana. Now that Shipshewana address has national attention and on auction days, the roads are so clogged into town that my mother has to use the back way in if she is asked to help a friend at a sale. Keep in mind here that the "front way" in is narrow roads with a "funny bump" that made my stomach jump when I was little and, in fact, still does.
So . . . I am thinking I should go into some sort of business with my mother - with her address, we would have a step up on things. We could even copy the old tintype picture to show we were "authentic." The problem is figuring out what product we would market.
This has been a stumbling block . . . but I will keep thinking. How about storybook quilts - a person sends in some facts about different aspects of their lives and dreams and I piece them together into a "quilt-book?" Or they could send in a list of the things they have done wrong and I could write a story that would be a guilt-book.
Oh, I guess I forgot to sound the bad pun warning. Sorry.
GREAT RACE, GREAT BOOK, GREAT PRICE
My interest has recently been drawn to the Great Race of 1908 which was from New York to Paris. While doing additional research, I found out there was a book titled - what else? -
The Great Race by J.N. Fenster. This is the book that is out of stock at most book vending places that supply bookstores, but I did mind to find it at Amazon.com for $3.48.
Oh, I forgot to tell you why I was so interested in this book . . . The Great Race went through Kendallville and it is mentioned in the book. More later - reading now.
KENDALLVILLE MAIN STREET
Last November I went up and down Main Street getting ready to write an article about the Christmas Choir Night sponsored by the Main Street Business Association. I eventually wrote about finding an historic postcard of the street - and I found it again in the drawer by where I often sit.
Here it is.
SOME WISDOM of Mr. Chas. Swindoll
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. It will make or break a company ... a church ... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude ... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me, and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you ... we are in charge of our Attitudes." ~ Charles Swindoll
WHICH WOLF?
I found this on the web - I liked it - I will try to remember.
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a
battle that goes on inside people.
He said, "My son, the battle is between two
"Wolves" inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret,
greed, arrogance,self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false
pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope,serenity, humility,
kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth,compassion and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather:
"Which Wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
RE-ENACTORS, NOT CIVIL WAR
I've been aware of the Civil War re-enactors for quite awhile now; I've even written about them. If I remember correctly, some were at the Windmill Museum Festival when Sandra Day O'Connor spoke.
I did not realize people re-enacted battles from this century - as in Ostfront - but I happened across
this entry by a fellow who was here last April, stayed at the Best Western, ate at Applebee's and then spent the next day in fields of mud. Ah, fields of mud . . . could this be a movie premise . . . if we soak our fields, will they come?
Okay, I'm dreaming.
AT STRAND NOW
Big Momma's House 2: Rated PG-13 and showtime is 7pm. You can read a review
RIGHT HERE.Hoodwicked: Rated PG; showtime is 7:15pm. The review is
HERE.YOU CAN FIND "WHAT'S MOVIE'S IN TOWN?" at any time by clicking on the Calendar of Events or in the links on the right.
EASY AS PIE
This past Friday I had lunch - sandwich and soda - at Easy as Pie which is located in the old drugstore on Main Street. The sandwich was quite good, but more than that, I find the atmosphere friendly and small town genteel.
GARDEN IDEA
I went out to Wal-Mart a couple of days ago and noticed that the garden center is turning back to gardening from the days, weeks and months that it was a depository of everything Christmasy.
I have had good intentions when it comes to making my lawn look nice . . . but, more than not, I become overwhelmed and wind up having the lawn mower be my primary tool. As I looked at some of the things being put out on the shelves in anticipation of Spring projects, I thought well, here goes another year of some plans and no follow through.
Then yesterday I got to thinking about the Home & Garden Show that Don Moore has been sponsoring at the Convention Center in Kendallville. Every year, that also inspires me but then along the way to summer glory, I fizzle.
But wait a minute, the people at the Home & Garden Show feature their stuff with signs indenifying their businesses . . . so, hey, I live on Riley Street where a lot of cars go by and sometimes they line up right in front of the house when a train goes by. Why don't I ask some craft people and gardeners and landscapers to use my lawn as a summerlong advertising "yard billboard."
Okay, what I need to do is use some muscle power and a spade and rake and seeds and . . . but I thought I'd take a shot.
COLLECTING TEDDY BEARS
My first teddy bear was one my father named Beezlebub and the second was one my Aunt Dorothy sent me that my father names Brownie. It seems my father - normally a creative person - did have have his run-of-the-mill moments.
Then I took it in my head in my teenage years to adopt a Raggedy Ann who took on a rather unique personality and who also became good friends with one of my summer roommates - Suzi Wolff of of Long Beach, Indiana. If I were to say "with two f's" to anyone who knew us then, they would immediately be reminded of Suzi.
But I get off-track here. This is about teddy bears. During the last few years, I have started adopting them . . . because I can't get past the fact that they are just furry material and stuffing. Their little eyes grab my heart strings and tug.
Right now one is looking at me from across the den. He does not have a name yet and, in fact, he is not mine. He belongs to my daughter-in-law, Alison, who is a nurse out at Parkview Noble. It seems Teddy Bear Syndrome is contagious.
I think all these bears have stories and I also think that one by one I'll tell them. It may take a little while to get some of the bears to open up - although the ones with the strings in their backs do seem fairly outgoing.
One polar bear tells me at birth he was no bigger than a chipmunk. He was a gift from someone who got him through the Discovery Channel, so you would expect him to be educational.
COLD CHEESE
Do you know what frosts my cheese? Do you want to know? I am going to tell you. In this age of earphones, why do people play their music out loud in the public rooms of the house. I can't stand that. I give people earphones - they lose them, and I suspect they do so on purpose.
UPDATE: And when they leave the area and also leave the music playing I could just throttle them.
RECIPE DU JOUR
I have discovered that I am close to being a garbage eater. It would be more sccurate to say that I am starting to enjoy sandwiches from stuff in the refrigerator that might be heading down the garbage disposal. Today, I took one slice of Aunt Millie's Deli Rye bread and visually divided it in half. On one side I put a bit of cole slaw, some potato salad - on the other I combined horseradish and relish and topped it with packaged salmon.
You have to be willing to take risks to accomplish step #2 - I folded it up while squeezing along the edges to keep everything from falling out, although something always does. Today it was a bit of the cole slaw. That done, I envelope it in a paper towel and start chomping.
I have decided I need to add part of a deviled egg. Always onward . . . that's my motto. No, it's not.
BERHALTER-HUTCHINS
I was down at the Berhalter-Hutchins Funeral Home taking a couple of pictures for an article. It is a beautiful place inside - maybe an unexpected thing to say about a "funeral parlor", but then maybe not. It is an older building with high ceilings and french doors that form an arch at the top. It has dignity.
ALASKA EMAIL
I watched a program on the Discovery Channel about salvage work in the Bering Sea in which Dan Magone and his crew tried to get the American Star off of a beach where it had run aground. You got to know the crew members and there was one really nice man who I liked in particular. Well, in the epilogue, the announcer said he had died of a heart attack in a later salvage attempt and was, in fact, Dan's brother.
It shocked me and I found myself thinking of it later so I got on the Internet and looked up Magone and found a site where I sent a condolence note. Only, it was Dave Magone, not Dan, to whom I sent the message.
I received this in my email a couple of days ago:
hello , you,ve reached dave magone the other brother. will forward this on
to dan. thanks for the letter and thoughts - dave magone-
----- Original Message -----
From: "jody vance"
To:
Sent: Friday, January 13, 2006 7:17 AM
Subject: message to Dan Magone/brother
Hi, I tried to send this message on your site, but it said it
contained a banned word - I have looked through it repeatedly and
cannot figure out what it could be. If I am not seeing anything that
is rude, it is a typo and I apologize.
Original message:
I had the TV on the Discovery Channel yesterday when the program
about the American Star came on. After a couple of minutes, I found
it interesting enough to sit down and actually concentrate on
watching. Throughout the program I was impressed with the really good-
natured, bearded gentleman and was then shocked to hear in the
epilogue that he had suffered a heart attack and passed away while
working on a later job.
I am very sorry for your family's loss. I know some time has passed
since this happened and I do hope I am not causing you to revisit
your grief. Still, I wanted you to know that in a one hour show, I
came to like and admire him and I will remember.
Jody Vance
NICE PERSON FROM WAWK
I was sitting in my driveway (in my car - with my grandson) waiting to turn onto the road to head for the school. Turn left, mine you. I was waiting because a train had just cleared the tracks and the traffic was backed up forever. Then a car stopped and let me out. Yes, yes, yes - oh, thank you.
I don't know who it was but the banner on the side of the car said WAWK. That's the radio station here in Kendallville on AM 1140.
SUMMER'S STORIES & TIMEPIECES
Yesterday I came across a book I wanted and called Summer's Stories here in Kendallville to order it. I found out that the supplier had none on hand and I was advised to go ahead and order it from Amazon.com. That is so great - not that they didn't have it, but that they helped me get the best service I could.
I love to go in that store. I love the wood floors: I love the sofa; I love that chair where your feet stick out in front of you while you sit - think built-in hassock. And, okay, I love the books. Summer told be that people were welcome to sit down and read part of book to see if they wanted it or not. I have found that to be good: one book seemed to cry out to me to be read, but after I had gone through the first few pages and skipped to the middle to see if the basic tone of the book continued, I decided, "I don't think so" and put it back on the shelf.
One of the books I ordered from Summer's Stories was
Young Men and Fire by Norman Maclean. He's the fellow that wrote A River Runs Through It. Maclean was at the University of Chicago for a long time, teaching English and he really writes beautifully - imminently readable with a true respect for good, clear sentences. I find myself wanting to say some of the sentences over in my mind - and sometimes aloud. Maclean makes one want to write better by his example.
When my son, Quentin, had a birthday roll around in August, I prepared a package for him, which along with such classics as Uncle John's Bathroom Reader, included a copy of A River Runs Through It, the DVD of the movie and a copy - which I also ordered from Summer - of Young Men and Fire. I think I inscribed in the books, "Written by one gentelman for another to read" . . . or something like that.
Are you wondering about the bathroom reader? Yes, it doesn't sound like it is too proper, but actually it is a book - or series of books - chockful of all sorts of interesting facts. It has been a tradition to give him each volume as it is published.
I had another tradition; I used to give my father a book every Christmas and inside I would write, "I'll always love you, Daddy." He died in 2000 - February 10th - and the next year I found myself picking out a book for him and then it hit me that he was dead. But I bought it anyway, inscribed it, wrapped it and gave it to my mother. She opened it and put it by the chair where he would sit to read. The next year I did the same.
There is a stack there now by his chair. Anyone can read through them - he would have liked that. This year, as I was looking for a book, I saw Timepieces: Masterpieces of Chronometry and thought that it was something he would have enjoyed. I also thought of his grandchildren picking it up and learning from it as well. That would have really pleased him.
So . . . I walked up to the counter and Summer told me that it had been written by David Christianson who had the jewelry store just up the street. Had Daddy been living he would have probably stopped in to talk about the book with Mr. Christianson - and maybe learn some more things and whatever.
Actually, I was interested enough that I read it beofre I wrapped it - Daddy would not have minded - and then I wrote, "Christmas 2005 - I'll always love you, Daddy." and got out the scissors and tape and gold paper and the ribbon.
WAWK - JANUARY 20th
WAWK radio
1140am on your dial comes from here in Kendallville - and I remember back in the winter days when my son was in high school at East Noble. WAWK is a dawn to dusk station and in the winter if you tuned in and it was on it meant one thing - school delay announcements.
Now, I can catch them on the bottom of the TV screen or a page on the Internet - but I still remember those mornings when Mike Schultz' voice stirred hope in my son's chest.
Don Moore owns the station and his son Don jr. - who is in the Indiana Guard - spent time on the Gulf Coast. The following article appeared in the Kendallville Mall.
Deer season was about to begin and Don Moore jr. was out sighting in his rifle here in Noble County when the call came. It was from the National Guard; he had a job to do. And that job had a name, Operation Raging Bull, which was associated with another name – this one feminine, this one memorable, this one: Katrina.
So instead of the camouflage clothing used in hunting, Moore was soon in military uniform and driving a Hum-Vee in a convoy heading to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. It was an 1100 mile trip that took two days and, grinning, he says the speed was a steady 48 –52 mph.
When they got to the end of that 1100 mile trip, they were still 100 miles from the coast – in Purvis, Mississippi - and yet the signs of destruction were everywhere. Moore has an album of pictures he snapped during the time he left and returned. The earliest are of the natural geographical features of the area through which the highway runs and then the pictures change and there seems to be nothing natural about Nature. There are shots of woods where all trees are snapped off, reminiscent of tornado damage seen here, but on a much bigger scale. During the time was Moore was on mission, his unit moved closer and closer to the sea until his pictures show empty land that was once a neighborhood. Along the roadsides is debris, herded by bulldozers into chaotic piles of bits of everything from golf clubs to furniture to parts of houses.
In the center of one picture is a crumpled up yellow Corvette.
In the center of another picture is a child’s pink stuffed animal.
That is the true impact of Katrina, according to Moore, the bits and pieces or people’s lives, the personal things, ripped apart and blown or washed away. The album is full of the things he saw, but as much as it shows, it cannot encompass the enormity of the event. He says, “It’s nothing like CNN,” and refers to the sounds and smells – and the oppressive heat.
He talks of being in the Humvee in calm air by the Gulf and then being hit with the smell of death. In Biloxi, they came upon a two square block area of sewage. Barges have been washed ashore, spilling the big metal shipping containers used in moving the countries goods and produce. Some were filled with frozen chicken; now there is the stench of rot and little chicken bones strewn about. “That was a bad, bad smell,” he says. Some containers are floating just offshore. The barge of a casino has been pushed onto land and twisted – this was one bet the house lost.
The word house itself takes on a different meaning in what Katrina left behind. Moore tells of meeting an older woman who told him to go on into her house and look around. “No, ma’am,” he replied, “I can’t do that.” She insisted, “Go look.”
When he went into the first floor, there was nothing there, except studding and a staircase. Upstairs he found the kitchen . . . and a water mark high on the kitchen cabinets. He has another picture or another house, only this one does not show skeletal remains of a first and second floor – you see, instead, a roof resting on a foundation. The floors which were made up of the room is which people lived . . . are gone.
Some of the houses were built on stilts and Moore has a picture of what was left of one: 2 and a half of the stilt poles.
Do you remember when the new Wal-Mart was being built east of Kendallville and it was nothing more than a huge shell of a box? Moore talks of another new Wal-Mart on the Gulf Coast. He says you could stand in what was the parking lot and look right through the store, no shelves, no stock. Nothing but the shell was left.
Moore says the area from the shore to four miles inland was “completely gone” and asks people to imagine the land which reaches east to west from the shore of Bixler Lake to Highway 3 and north to south from Fort Wayne to Sturgis being devastated. The sea had come in at 18 feet over normal level with a washing machine action.
He asks, “How would you feel if you were told to leave and could only take a few things and maybe your dog, and when you came back . . .?” You can’t imagine. “Anxious” is a word that addresses the overall feeling of people “coming home.” Reactions ranged according to situation and personality and he remarks about one man who, when he found a tree on his Blazer, cut the roof off, stuck a boat in the back and was driving around. By the remains of one house was a sign: “I’M OKAY, DANIELLE, LOVE YOU, DAD.”
Asked about meeting people who had ridden out the storm, he answers, “ Anyone who stayed, I didn’t meet . . . They were in one of the freezer trailers FEMA had brought.”
In the time he was there, Moore saw changes: houses were already being rebuilt, FEMA trailers were coming in for people to live in, the Red Cross was bringing supplies and providing vouchers and/or checks and churches were up and running.
He estimates 99% of the people were thankful to see the soldiers there, especially as protection against looting. They set up a checkpoint and allowed people in on the basis of a drivers license. They found the stop signs easily. Moore says they were lying all around. The Manager’s Office sign they placed on top of the tarp was picked out of the woods where it had been blown.
He said you don’t get used to the surroundings and that it is going to take a long, long time for things to get back to normal.
He mentions figures about Hurricane Katrina: 33.4 billion dollars spread out over six states; two million people displaced and 1.6 million insurance claims. And somewhere in a place where there are no longer recognizable landmarks . . . one small pink stuffed animal.
P-51
While talking with a gentleman yesterday, the subject came up about my writing about things - and, ah, with the slightest reason to talk about myself I was off and going. During the monologue i mentioned a World War II pilot I had interviewed years ago in a suburb of Cincinnati.
He had flown P-51's and he talked about the youthful confidence and zest he and his fellow pilots had. Take off, fly a mission and make it back to the base in England . . . until your number was up. Only, he said he guess no one really thought their number would be. They felt sort of golden in their planes that danced in the sky.
One day, his number came up and his plane mortally wounded, incapable of making it back across the Channel, he bailed out over occupied France. It wasn't the Resistance that was waiting for him, ready to supply the cover of a barn for rest, a change of clothes, an escape route. It was the Germans who stood in the field watching him come down; he said he felt lucky they weren't shooting at him.
He was taken to a POW camp, and that is a story in itself, and that camp was liberated by General George Patton. This then young pilot said, "I won't tell you that I made eye-contact, but he (Patton) was only about six feet away and as his gaze took us in, he said, 'I'm proud of you men.' I'm telling you I would have followed him anywhere."
It was an article that wrote itself, a little column in a local paper. I learned a lot and I had really been happy to talk to him, but that's all I thought it was - me being privileged to listen to his story. After the column was in the paper, he called me. He said he had been up on the roof working on his gutters and when he came down two young fellows were waiting for him. They verified who is was and then said, "We want to shake your hand and thank you for what you did for us."
It moved him to be thanked; it pleased him that a younger generation realized what a lot of men had done for them. And he wanted to let me know.
I had done nothing but write what he had told me, but it pleased me that the words I passed on had helped to make a link between the generations and emphasis a heritage continued.
A SATURDAY IN JANUARY
Actually, this time in mid-January is not so bad - except of course if you are a student on the old semester system that has finals this time of year - and like myself, never, ever studied on Christmas break. But aside for that, most of the Christmas things are down and the post-holiday letdown letting up.
Of course, come to think of it, the sky is gray and has been for some time now. That is not invigorating to the spirit, but, on the other hand, it makes spending a Saturday in front of a fire with a book more inviting. But wait, I do not have a book; I have a laptop computer. But wait, the fire needs more wood. Okay, I am going to have to get up.
Do you know that you can buy a DVD or VHS video that shows a fire in a fireplace? Yes, it's true. It may sound a little tacky, but it's actually pretty cool. The sound effects can include hissing and crackling and the coals come to grow red and you don't have to get up to add more wood. With a remote, you can just replay it and some will automatically recycle.
Yes, warmth - or the lack of - could be a problem, except that a little tiny space heater by your feet feels really good and makes the fire seem so . . . . well, real.
Are you laughing at my little idea here? Ah, that is okay; others have and then become converts. A video fire, a book, some snacks.
Now, at the risk of me spoiling the winter lodge moment, let me go a step further. You want to watch sports - maybe the Colts? - okay, just bring in a little TV and sit it next to you hooked up to the DVD. Yes, this gets a little bit drawn out, but if you stick with it, it works out.
It also works out that some people find you kooky, but I'm used to living with that - and to tell the truth, it ain't that bad.
