Family Secrets - Christmas Travel

In all the years I spent in Alaska I only decided to return to the lower 48 for Christmas once.  My kids were a little up set, more for me than for them I suspect.  They had visions of me sitting in my little basement dwelling, watching television all alone with a little TV dinner while I cried into my eggnog.  That was not the case due to nice people that always seemed to take pity on a single person around Christmas time.  I always had a Christmas dinner and a New Year happening to go to.  The reason I did not return more than once had a lot to do about not spending the $1000 the trip would have cost and the hassle it involved.

The coming and going from the village over Christmas vacation was always a real mental and physical hardship let alone a financial drain.  Leaving from bush Alaska is not an easy task under the best of circumstances let alone over a busy holiday period.

The year I did return, my first year there, it went something like this -

Around the 20^th of December the teachers who were leaving congregated in the school office.  They waited for the fifteen minute warning call from a plane that would carry them off.  When the call was received all the bags were thrown into a sled attached to a snow-go and we piled on top of them and sped towards the landing strip.  We hoped our timing was right so as not to miss the plane or worse yet get to the strip to early and wait in the freezing cold longer than necessary.  The plane only held nine people plus baggage and it takes two and sometimes three trips in an out of the village to the regional airport, about an hour away, to get everyone on their way.

Once arriving at the regional airport, in this particular case Bethel, it was easy to transfer to a regular jet liner, seating about 50, for the trip to Anchorage.  We got into Anchorage around 10:00 PM and the flight to the lower 48 took off at 6:00 AM.  Going to a motel seems ludicrous so it is customary to find a soft metal bench or an even a softer portion of some indoor outdoor carpet and try and sleep. 

The flight I was on was going to Seattle first where you may or not spend the night.  Sometimes the flight goes to Chicago or even Houston non stop but not this time.  From Seattle we went to Denver then to Chicago, my final destination that year. 

After visiting that year the return trip I thought would be more relaxing due mostly to the fact I didn’t care if I got back on time or not.  However it turned out to be far more taxing.

It was a direct shot to Anchorage from Chicago.  What could go wrong?  Well, as we were going down the runway and were just about ready to lift off for our seven hour flight the engines suddenly unwound, setting the nose back on the tarmac and the plane started heading back towards the terminal.  The captain came over the intercom and explained that there was nothing serious but a light had come on indicating a pressure door was malfunctioning.  It needed to be checked out.  It took two hours to check the situation out and naturally we were not allowed to deplane. 

We tried the takeoff again and this time met with success.  The seven hour flight went smooth enough but every time we hit an air pocket I had visions of one of the doors blowing off.

Our landing in Anchorage was as smooth a landing as I had ever experienced.  We parked by our gate but then it took another two hours to get the door opened.  I guess they did a good job of closing it in Chicago.

By this time it was midnight and our plane to Bethel was leaving at 4:00 AM.  So I found another soft metal bench and some softer indoor outdoor carpeting close to the ticket gate and settled in.

I had planned on being first in line that morning but so did everyone else and I was number 29.  By the time I was number 10 an airline employee made an announcement indicating I was in the wrong line.  I informed whoever would listen that I was in the line I was told to be in.  I was then informed by a very polite soft spoken lady representing the airline that I was now being told to do something else and that I need not yell.

I am ashamed to say that I must have made quite a scene going to another line because two airline ticket agents came out from behind the counter and gave me special attention.  I was calming down and things were going well when it was discovered that the computer did not have me listed on the flight to Bethel and there were no seats left for over twenty-four hours.  Another scene arose.  As I was shouting out my confirmation number a phone call was made and security guards started congregating in the area.  The problem was soon rectified and I thanked the ticket agent the best I could through my hyperventilating and went off to my gate.

We took off without door problems or lights coming on and an hour later we landed in Bethel amidst a blizzard.  I took a $12, three block cab ride to the air carrier that would take me to Hooper Bay in about an hour.  I was informed that the flight had been delayed due to weather.  Ten hours later the flight was canceled.  I was put on a stand by list for the following morning.

In the mean time more teachers had arrived trying to catch a flight to the bush. They were more experienced than I about such things so I just sat back and listened to what they had to say.  The terminal was closing down and the authorities would not allow anyone to stay in the terminal over night.  To bad I thought because the metal benches seemed sort of comfortable.  The travel pros had made tentative reservations at one of the several motels and by the time I started calling around there were no rooms at the inn.  I pictured myself standing out in the cold all night when a teacher suggested I call the police to see if they had room.  I was a little perplexed until he informed me that sometimes the police let stranded passengers sleep in one of the cells if one was available.  I had no choice.

I made the call to the local constabulary and was told to come on over.  Twenty minutes and $15 later I was placed in a cell with two other transients for the night.  It was the first and only time up till now that I have ever been incarcerated as such.

The next morning I caught a taxi back to the airport, this time costing $20 and got ready for my supposedly 9:00 AM flight.  Nine AM came and went and around 10:00 AM I began to hear rumors that weather was still bad in Hooper Bay and that we would be in Bethel another night.  It was then that the luck of the Irish placed its charms around me.

 As I was leaning against the counter listening to the pros talk about what to do next, an employee came out of the back room from behind the counter and told the Eskimo ticket agent to get nine people on a manifest to Hooper Bay and he did not care which nine they were.  So much for a stand by list.  I immediately turned around and said, “Give me a ticket.”  The teachers began jostling and shoving their way to the counter and I got out of the way for fear of life and limb.  The plane took off about an hour later.

When we landed in Hooper Bay it was 10 below and the wind chill brought the temperature down to minus 42.  There was no time to delay.  We hurriedly threw our bags on the sled trip to school, jumped on top and off we went towards the school about a mile away.  We zoomed across the tundra at 35 mph which was fast but not fast enough into the wind and a teacher later told me that he calculated the temperature was -75 degrees with the wind chill.

The following years I made no special attempt to go home for Christmas.  It was too much of a hassle.  I told my family and friends not to worry about me but to instead concern themselves with those young men and women that are really spending Christmas far away from home and really have no choice.  They are not teachers, I think the term used is "being in the military."

Family Secrets - Music Festival

If you were there I don't have to describe it, if you were to young or not there you have perhaps heard the stories and I don't need to repeat them.  If you heard it was full of nudity, public sex, and drugs-you heard right.  But there is another story you might not have heard:

The local National Guard unit and those units in the surrounding area as far away as Kansas City were put on duty that weekend.  We went about our business as usual.  The Adjutant General of the state of Missouri visited our unit and went on a fact finding mission to the festival.  He wore civilian clothes and without a huge entourage. 

About 1 a.m. Sunday morning I received a phone call from my commanding officer who told me to report to the armory immediately and to ware civilian clothes.  The Chief of Staff of the Army National Guard got us all together, about 100 of us, and told us that there was one drug overdose case every five minutes being taken to the the Bothwell emergency room.  The concern was that there were many more that were not making it to Bothwell and needed assistance.  "You are on a life saving mission, you are not there to enforce laws.  You have about 10% hard core out there but the remaining 90% are just kids raising hell and having fun in their mind."

A dawn we all boarded army vehicles, given a Security T-shirt, and given sectors to patrol and a radio if help was needed to evacuate some one from the grounds.  A make shift hospital was set up near the site of the fair administration building manned by army doctors and nurses flown in from a Kansas City armory. 

About half way through the day I received a call that my wife had called the armory, that she needed me and I was to come home immediately.  I was whisked off by a highway patro car, found my wife in labor.  I took my wife to the hospital where she gave birth to our first daughter.  She asked me if I was going back to the fair grounds and I said no, they can manage without me. 

For the most part the Ozark Music Festival was handled just fine.  I don't know if any deaths occurred or not, it has been a long time ago and far, far, away it seems. 

Family Secrets - Homecomig

Family Secrets - Homecoming.

I do not recall the day or any special events leading up to the time Dad got home from Korea.  I am sure there must have been some discussion about Dad’s homecoming but I do not recall any single event except Christmas morning of 1954. 

We had as usual put up a tree and had plenty of presents underneath.  I was as excited as a second grader would be for Christmas morning.  My grandfather and grandmother were not happy at all.  A sadness permeated their face.  I was eager to open my presents and was allowed to do so, but they told me that they wanted to wait and open theirs when Dad got home.  I remember thinking why would they want to wait with all those packages just begging to be opened.  I cannot recall any particular present I got that year.  It would be a nice touch to this narrative for me to say the best present I got that year was Dad coming home and it was but only in retrospect.

While I was playing with whatever I got Mama and Baba just sort of went about their business trying to pass the time away and even going to the front door now and then to see who had just pulled up in front of the house.  I remember Baba going out in the front yard just standing their smoking cigarettes looking up and down the street while Mama busied herself in the kitchen. 

I don’t know how long it was after Christmas when Dad did arrived, but it must not have been that long, like two or three days, because I was still on vacation from school and was allowed to stay up late at night.

My grandfather was working the night shift at Westinghouse and Mama was in the kitchen when I heard the porch door open and though the window pane of our house Dad looked though the glass smiling. 

I am sure that my grandmother must have cried while they hugged and the only thing I remember is Dad telling her it seemed like home had been a world away the last two years. 

My Grandfather got home around midnight and they sat down and opened all the remaining presents.  I even had a couple to open that Mama had hid.  I was glad to get them and while they stayed up and visited I sat next to Dad on the couch and drifted off to sleep.

Family Secrets - Christians, a real minority

Family Secrets - Christians a real minority

In Fairmount and especially Crisp Lake there was only one Negro named Mac who shined shoes in one of the barbershops.   There were no American Indians, Jews, or Mexicans any where to be found around the neighborhood.  Catholics were here and there but really could not be counted as a true minority because most of them lived north of 24 Highway.  We did have one family living on Ash who it was suspected were gypsies, but no one knew for sure.  No the only minority present in our little community was me.

Being raised a Christian Scientist had some advantages.  First of all you did not have to take the yearly polio shot or what ever types of shots they were giving out that year at school.  When it was my turn for some sort of vaccination a parent aid would whisper something to the nurse, a notation was made on a piece of paper and the next child in line stepped forward and I returned to my seat.  I really felt fortunate, shots scared me and I knew they must be painful.  Secondly there were not many rules involved being a Christian Scientist.  No one said if you did this or did that or you didn’t do this or that you were going to suffer eternal damnation or something.  Hell was not addressed as such and talk of heaven consisted of ‘passing on’ and living on in the minds of others.

If you were to ask people what they know about Christian Scientist a preponderance would say “aren’t they the ones who don’t believe in doctors?”  A few might know who Mary Baker Eddy was (she founded the religion in 1875) or that there was a news paper by that name or perhaps to the truly knowledgeable of trivia, that the headquarters of the church were in Boston (or was it Baltimore)  and that Alan Shepard our first man in space was a Christian Scientist.  Four of the five above are true, one is a little iffy. 

The idea that Christian Scientists don’t believe in doctors is not actually correct.  Their doctrine allows each member to make up their own mind on how to live their life given the teachings of Jesus and the Bible as explained in ‘Science and Health with Keys to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy,’ which includes health care.  Some use doctors some don’t, some take medication some don’t, it is really an individual choice.  They are  encouraged to obey all laws pertaining to health care and if shots are required they are to be taken.  There were not many laws back then that required one to have shots unless you joined the military, ergo no shots for this kid while growing up.

For the purist in the religion or the real conservative type, Christian Scientist do have what they call Practitioners that are consulted when health matters arise.  To make this concept simple let us just say that if you are ill, you talk to a Practitioner.  They don’t cast spells or perform rites or anything like that nor are they licensed by the church or state as far as I know, they just help you see the truth and as it is said, “you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”  (Another big saying that Christian Scientist have is “Devine love has always met and always will meet every human need.”)

We had Sunday School like most all churches and I got a good education about the make up of the Bible and knew and still do most of the stories from the old and new testament.  Of course the healing  ones depicted in the Bible were given a lot of attention.

Other churches may have and do look on Christian Science as a cult at least by definition just like they do the Mormons.  By definition they might be correct.  Christian Scientist do not believe in the trinity.  Father, Son and Holy Spirit (Ghost back then) are part of the belief system but they are all separate entities not just one - a much easier concept to grasp.  God is that indescribable  concept that resides in that just as indescribable place called heaven, Jesus is his son, divine but not God on earth in the flesh, and the Holy Spirit sort of mystically runs around between humans, God, and Jesus. (I always thought it interesting that of the two major religions started in the United States, Christian Science  and Mormons, neither believe in the trinity.  It is probably a coincidence unless one or both religions are really the chosen people and not that other group. That is a thought that you would never hear from a Christian Scientist but probably a core belief in Salt Lake City.)  There is no professional clergy, (they have a First Reader and Second Reader, one reads a Bible passage and the other reads from Science and Health explaining what was just read by the other,) no weddings, baptisms, christenings, official inductions nor funerals are performed in or by the church.  There are no revivals, fund raisers, pot lucks, deviations from the script prepared by the Mother Church read each Sunday morning and Wednesday night service, nor any real fun things to do at all.  It was sort of a boring church for a kid as far as I was concerned.  The service and theology are more of a cerebral nature and if the truth be known eludes most adherents.   

I never felt any prejudice directed towards me because of my religion but I was defiantly part of a system that others did not understand nor were interested in finding out more about and it seems like other parents always wanted me to go to church with their children when youth meetings were held  because they were concerned about my soul.  I usually went because they always seemed to have good treats afterwards and most were my friends from the neighborhood anyway.

Gradually I drifted away from the church and have joined different churches from time to time.  I have been a Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, Lutheran, Assembly of God, Quaker, and Disciple of Christ church member in the past.  All seemed about the same, some were a little more demanding on how you conducted your personal life but that really never bothered me because when it comes to religion we are all part of the same hypocrisy, picking and choosing what we believe in as we interpret the bible.

However one never escapes his early up bringing.  Ideas are planted early and lay dormant but now and then blossom and grow.  You try to kill them off now and then but they keep coming back.  I still consider myself to be a Christian Scientist though I don’t officially or actively practice it anymore except when I become a little ill or just before my annual physical.  I have to do it all by memory now because I don’t have any idea where my copy of Mrs. Eddy’s book is anymore.

The overriding beliefs taught to me in Sunday school that have stayed with me over the years and still imprinted on my mind come from my Christian Science up bringing and other than those I am not real sure about that mystery we call religion.  I am pretty sure that Man is not material he is Spiritual, God is Love and when we pass on we will all be surprised.

I do have a good set of friends now that are true believers and they are very much more concerned about my salvation than I am.  I appreciate that very much.

Family Secrets - Calvary Trooper

Family Secrets – Calvary Trooper

When my grandfather turned 17 he thought it was about time he left home to see the world.  So in 1922 he and a childhood friend of the same age took off from the only home they had ever known in Independence.  They had little money but thought they could work their way across the country by doing odd jobs along the way, besides they had been in Boy Scouts together and knew how to camp and live off the land so they figured.

In February they began to hitchhike after a flip of the coin determined they would head east towards New York.  I am not sure what they were thinking to leave then in the middle of the blistery cold Missouri winter especially hitchhiking in 1922.  There could have not been that many motorized vehicles traveling the roads back then.  However those cars or truck that were making such trips back then were probably more inclined to pick up riders than they would today.

The first day they had made it as far as Warrensburg, Missouri and stayed in a place that shall we say had less than a reputable reputation.  They spent more money there than they had planned.

I don’t know how long it took them or how they managed, but a week later they found themselves wondering around the back streets of St. Louis, cold, broke, and hungry.  They saw a recruiting poster with Uncle Sam pointing a finger at them telling them that he wanted them.  The recruiting Sergeant befriended them, fed them, and let them sleep in his office that night.  The next morning several your men arrived with their suitcases in tow to be sworn in to the U.S. Army.  The recruiting Sergeant told them that if they swore they were 21 they could join too.  Later that afternoon Granddad was on a train west to Cheyenne, Wyoming to be part of the 4^th Calvary.  He had never ridden a horse in his life.

He never related much about how he learned to be a Calvary troop nor much of anything about basic training or the army in general.  The only story he did relate to me was that one day while standing in formation the First Sergeant asked if anyone knew how to drive a tuck.  My grandfather thought that would be a good job, at least he could get out of riding a horse and the other silly minutiae that was probably in store for him that day.  He volunteered.  The rest of the afternoon he pushed a wheelbarrow around the company area hauling gravel from one end of the compound to another.

He started keeping a journal while in Wyoming but only for a short time and even then it was no more than a one or two word entry.  “went to town,” “saw Missy last night,” “twenty mile troop ride today,” “Inspection this afternoon.”  There were only entries like that for about 20 days.  I wonder who Missy was, or what a 20 mile troop ride must have been like, what did he do when he went to town, who were his buddies he did things with, what happened to his buddy he had joined with, I guess I will never know. 

He apparently did not like the army much so after 18 months of doing whatever he was doing he sent his father a letter asking him to see if he could help Granddad buy his way out of his four year military obligation.  That was standard procedure back in those days.

Some how the family managed to raise $1,500 and Granddad was a free man and returned to Independence.  As far as I know he never rode a horse again.

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Family Secrets - Teacher Jail

Family Secrets- Teacher Jail


In September of 2003 I wrote an article for the Independence Examiner that got be in all sorts of trouble.  It was a humorous article, or so I thought, of what lengths teacher's would go through or thought about going through to be able to drink alcohol in "dry" Eskimo Villages (see blog November 2010.)  My intent was to make fun of us, the teachers, and not them, the Eskimos.  However I hit a nerve when I mentioned that in Hooper Bay..."most native men and many women drank alcohol."  It was like I dared to mention the 600 pound walrus sitting in the living room that everyone was ignoring.

Eventually the Police Chief of Hooper Bay or one of his associates became aware of the article and some how it was circulated around the village.  The Police Chief was a nice person and not vindictive, so I suspect if he was the culprit he would have said something to me so the entire situation could have been straightened out right away.  However no one said anything for a very long time and no telling how long the pot boiled with displeasure.

One day in April the principal informed me that the village native chief wanted to talk to me.  I told him sure, send him on over to the the classroom.  The Chief never showed up.  A week later the District School Superintendent came to the village and told me to come see him after school.

When we met he immediately showed me a photocopy of the article I had written back in September and said he was concerned that I had written it.  I asked him if there was anything in the article that was not accurate.  He didn't comment directly, he just repeated that he was concerned.  We sat there in silence for awhile and then he told me that the village chief had informed him that the former mayor of the village was upset and had threatened to shoot me.  He went on to say that everyone knew the mayor had a tendency to get drunk now and then and that his threat should be taken seriously.  The superintendent told me to pack my bags and I was to fly to the district office with him.

I was a little dumbfounded and didn't know what the big deal was.  I mean how could a guy get into trouble just telling the truth.  Being a history major I should have known that the truth some times stings more than a lie.

The school district headquarters was located in Mountain Village a couple of hundred miles away.  They maintained a dormitory there for travelling employees.  The district fixed me up with a room, provided me with kitchen priviledges, and provided me with a charge account at the local store to buy food and necessities.  Other than showing me my room no administrator spoke to me for over a week.

Eventually I was given an assignment to work with a couple of local native ladies grading a district wide test.  I did this for the next six weeks.  The ladies and I became friends after awhile and one invited me over to her house for dinner.  She asked me why I was there and I told her.  She seemed sort of relieved and told me that the rumor was that I was a child molester and that I was taken out of the village while an investigation was taking place.  I asked her to please put that rumor to rest.

None of the administrative staff really talked to me about what to expect or when I could return or what my status was or would be.  I had learned many years ago that when you come to an impasse in any situation the one who seems most anxious to reach a conclusion is the one who talks first and the one who talks first usually looses.  I said nothing to anyone.  The administration and I were playing a waiting game.  I knew they could not fire me because I had done nothing to break the contract.  If I had lost my temper and just left then I would have forfeited my pay and be in breach of our contract and certainly would not have been employed by them again or any other district in Alaska.  I had signed a contract a couple of months earlier with the district but did not know if it had been certified by the board.  It was hard to make plans for the next year and I must admit I was stressed about the whole thing.

One day about a week before school was out, the Human Resource Director, whom I had known for a few years and were friends with somewhat, stopped me in the hall and asked me if anyone had shown me my contract for next year.  He then pulled out my file showed me the contract that had been approved two days before I was exiled to Mountain Village.  I did not mention the fact that I knew I had a job the next year to any of the administrators but did walk around with a smirk on my face for awhile.  I had won.

They flew me back to Hooper Bay and I mailed my stuff to the school I would be at the next year.  Most of the teachers had already left and all but three of the villagers ignored me.  Three men came by whom I had befriended and them me the last couple of years, part of the maintenance staff, and each shook my hand.  That meant a lot to me.

I was very bitter for awhile but as time passed I thought perhaps I should have been a little moor sensitive about making fun concerning the use of alcohol in the village.  Alcohol is a problem in every village I lived in and nothing I said in the article was not true.  However somethings should just be left unsaid I guess.

Family Secrets - The Wreck

Family Secrets - The Wreck

Mom and Dad had been dating for less than a year. It was drizzling rain when he picked her up from her home in Kansas City, Kansas and they went to a dance at William Chrisman High School. After the dance they decided to stop by a local drive-in and take the long way back to her house. While at the drive-in Dad and another guy got into an argument as to who had the fastest car. There was no drag strip in those days for the argument to be settled but there was always Kentucky Road just outside of Sugar Creek where such matters were easily delt with.

The two cars met at the appropriate place. A crowd had gathered and one of the two antagonist’s mutual friends gave the signal for the race to begin.

Dad did not win the race due to the fact that he hit a slick spot on the road, turned the car in a one eighty and went over an embankment. He was thrown against the steering wheel, bruised his chest and suffered some minor lacerations. Mom’s head went through the windshield.

By the time the on lookers got to the site, blood was every where, mostly Mom’s. One of the guys said they needed to take mom to the hospital immediately and there was a momentary hesitation as to whose car she should go in. “She’ll get blood all over my car,” one guy reportedly said. One of the larger of the group took charge and put mom in the closest car and sort of dared anyone to complain.

They arrived at the hospital where dad’s parents were called and he was immediately treated for his injuries. Mom’s mother was called but mom’s stepfather was hard of hearing and did not understand that they were supposed to come to the hospital and give permission for the doctors to treat mom since she was under age.

Dad’s mom and dad waited and waited, mom was kept from bleeding to death by basic first aid but no procedures were given to help her further. My grandmother decided she would sign the papers to commence doing whatever was needed to be done when finally Mom’s mom showed up, having realized what had happened via a second phone call that she answered.

Mom had a minor concussion and a slashed cheek. It took several hours to sew her up. She asked the doctor later how many stitches she received and the doctor told her, “Honey I stopped counting at 350.”

Mom had a terrible scar for the rest of her life. I never noticed anything out of the ordinary though because it was just part of the only her I had ever known. The scar was still visible if you knew where to look when I  kissed her on the cheek the night she died.  Wrinkles and sagging facial muscles had made it all but disappear to everyone else.

Family Secrets - With a Very Happy Ending

a yearFamily Secrets – With a Very Happy Ending

One day while in Arizona I went to the mail box and found a letter addressed to me but with my mother’s address. I opened it and it was from this lady who said she was trying to solve a puzzle. She asked me several questions about events that had happened many years ago and if any of those events sounded familiar. At first I was not real certain what she was asking. She did say she was not a stalker or wanted a kidney, in fact the letter was quite entertaining and funny in most respects, but the tenor of the letter was serious. She asked if I would write or call her and help her figure out the answers to some questions she had.

I let my mother read the letter and she picked up on it right away. She said for me to throw the letter away. I said I needed to think about this for awhile. My mind ran the gambit of what the letter was really asking and if the person writing this letter was legitimately wanting to know a certain fact or two or trying to set me up for something far more sinister . I asked a close friend of mine to do some internet stalking to see what he could find. His results found that indeed she was a real person, lived where she said she lived, and her bio seemed to be non threatening. She had suggested that perhaps I was her biological father but without coming right out and saying it.

Some well meaning friends told me not to contact her and others said for me to contact a lawyer before I did anything. I ignored both sets of advice. I figured that if I was or was not her bio father she had a right to know, and so did I. I called her.

We chatted on the phone for awhile, really for more than a while and we both sort of figured out that I was probably who she thought I was. I will never forget what she said, “I have wondered what this day would be like for over 20 years” I asked her if it was what she thought it would be. She told me it exceeded her wildest expectations. I was elated for reasons that might seem odd.

However, there were still some mysteries remaining. I was not sure of the circumstance of her birth. I was not sure who her biological mother was or even could have been. I am ashamed to say that I could not remember anything happening or that I thought might have happened to cause this with anyone particular girl, but on contemplating the situation I narrowed in down to three possibilities.

She sent me a copy of some information that she had been able to collect over the years, with some pictures of her biological mother, half sister, and herself. After reading the contents I figured out who the bio mother was from my past and the interlude that ended up causing the recent enlightenment. Those circumstance are not really important. Let’s just say that it was 1968, One Block West was the place to go and meet girls, and one could go and have a great time for a week or two without regards to consequences, or so we thought back then.

I had no idea that the girl I met and hung around with for a week or two got pregnant. No one informed me, no one even suggested that such a thing had taken place. I even new her sisters in college, but they never uttered a word.

Her folks would have none of it. They sent her to a home that unwed mothers went to in those days and she was forced, so to speak, to give up the baby girl. It had to be heart wrenching for her. I have known several young ladies, some very close friends that had similar situations happen to them and some who took more drastic actions, and they all say you never quite get over it and never forget it and wonder how the child’s life turned out or might have.

Well in my bio daughters case it turned out well. She was raised by a mother and father who loved her and she loved them, was a cheer leader in high school in a small town, she went to college on a scholarship, and now has a successful career helping others. She has three children of her own, a nice husband and 4 step children and a recent grand baby.  Believe me if I had been involved in her early life when I was young and more stupid then I am now, her life would not have turned out so well.

She has met my other children and we even took a “family” type of picture. When I am asked how many children I have I always say 5 and seldom have to go into the entire story of where the 5^th one is. In fact I am just as proud of her as my other children and sort of relish relating the story about her doggedness of searching for me for over 20 years.

I realize that I am not her father, he is the one who set up with her and nights and guided her into adulthood. She calls me Conley and that is how it should be. She met my mother, who seemed just as thrilled as me to have her presence known and mom gave her a family heirloom. I have informed her of what her McAnally roots were and I told her I would be as little or as much a part of her life as she wished me to be. I told her I had no right to expect anything from her. We keep in contact via  phone, facebook, and email.  She lives in western Kansas but I manage to go by and see her a couple of times .  
  

Family Secrets - Oregon or Bust

Family Secrets – Oregon or Bust

My grandmother on my father’s side was born to a tenant farmer in the back woods of Tennessee.  She was the seventh child out of what would become nine children in all.  For reasons not known to me her father decided to uproot the family and head for Oregon where I guess he assumed that life would be better.  They must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies when they all loaded into a pickup truck and headed west.

They got as far as Platt County Missouri when the truck broke down and his wife decided to have their ninth child in the back of the pickup.  Out of money and vehicle and with another mouth to feed, plus a sickly wife he got a job on a farm for less than the going wage but a house was thrown in to the mix.  He thought according to what my grandmother could remember that he would only be there just long enough to scratch some money together to fix his truck and continue their westward migration.  However his wife was bitten by a brown spider and given the medical treatment available at the time and an already sickly condition due to her last child being born under less than desired circumstance she died.  He was left with nine children ranging from ages 10 years old to three months.  His dream of Oregon had busted.

It soon became obvious that he was not going to be able to take care of them all and with the help and guidance from the local child welfare agency of Platt County the children were placed in foster homes, no two children being placed with any one family.

Except for the youngest three, my grandmother included, all the brothers and sisters lost track of each other for several years there after.  My grandmother and her two youngest sisters some how managed to keep in contact and given their very young ages it is remarkable to me that they were able to do so.  I guess they had the same case worker and he or she stayed on top of things.

While the two youngest children seemed to have been placed in stable homes, my grandmother bounced from one foster home to the next for the next several years.  By the time she was entering the sixth grade at Mt Washington Elementary School,( the same school I went to years later,) she had moved in with one of her older sisters who had left the foster care system and married.

Times were tough and when grandmother was in the seventh grade her brother-in-law told her that she was going to have to drop out of school, get a job and help pay her own way if she wanted to continue to live with them.

The next day the school principal, Mr. Ritter, noticed that Tennessee, my grandmother’s name then and the cause of much teasing by classmates, was up set.  She told him about her having to drop out of school.  With the help of the principal at Sugar Creek, Mr. Stone, and the county welfare agency they placed her in another foster home.  Her new foster parents were pretty well-to-do and it just so happened that the foster family was also named Stone, the lady of which was always referred to as Mother Stone when I would be told a story or two growing up.  Others in the family called her Nono, a name apparently given her by my dad.

Her new home came with a new foster sister, a foster cousin, her own bedroom, and a new name, Marie.

Given the fact that she was now in an upper middle class well-to-do family that thought education important, her future looked bright.  She continued her schooling for a few more years but then my grandfather showed up.  He had just returned to Independence from his time in the army and he was a dashing blade.  He jauntily wore a round straw hat, a blue blazer, and white trousers and had a job.  He was considered to be quite the catch among the local females looking for husbands at the time.  He zeroed in on Marie against the wishes of Mother Stone but like in most cases the wisdom of adults was no match for the passions of youth.  They were married two years later.

Family Secrets - Mr. Truman

Family Secrets – Mr. Truman 

When I tell people I come from Independence, depending on their age, they always say something like, “Ah, yes the home of President Truman.  I always say yes.  I tell them that Independence is famous for Harry Truman, Jessie James, and Joseph Smith and “there was not much difference between two of them, take your pick.”  That always got a laugh.

I go on to tell them about how often I saw Mr. Truman, (as those of us in the know refer to him) and they are always thrilled by my accounts.  When they return to wherever they are from I suspect they tell everyone they met this guy who seemed like he and President Truman were best friends. 

The truth of the matter is that I only saw Mr. Truman one time and that was in a limousine he was riding in with President Johnson the day he (Johnson) signed the Medicaid or Medicare Bill at the Truman Library and then just briefly.

I did know a lot of people who knew him very intimately and their stories about him were the foundations of mine.  My grandfather did get Mr. Truman to sign my Masonic membership card via the bodyguard and I did drive by his house many times.  I was also once the Executive Officer of his old Battery D artillery unit, but that was about the size of his involvement with the “Old Man (the name used by the local politicians when referring to him.)  My mother on the other hand had a much more interesting contact with him.

 Mom and Mr. Truman lived on the same street.  She would walk south along 

Delaware street

to catch the bus down town and most every morning he would go on his famous walks north along Delaware.  They would pass and he would always tip his hat and say, “Good morning mam.”  She would nod and say, “Good morning Mr. President.”

One day he stopped her and said that he had been passing by her almost every morning for the last several months and wanted to know where she was always going and what she did.  She told him she was a telephone operator in Kansas City and she caught the bus each day on Truman Road by his house.

  There was an awkward silence and mom said “And what is you do now?”  He responded, “Not much really.”

Every morning there after when they passed one another Mr. Truman would tip his hat and say, “Good morning telephone lady,” and then she would respond, “Good morning Mr. Truman."

Family Secrets - The Melting Pot of Diversity

Family Secrets: The Melting Pot of Diversity

America: The great melting pot.  The McAnally family: the melting pot of diversity.

Recently I found out two things that had long gone unknown to our family.  One, I cannot trace very far, and could be just a family type of an urban legend and the other, with a little speculation of historical migratory facts, could be true.

My oldest cousin let the cat out of the bag by saying that his mother had told him that her father had ancestors that were of Asian decent.  None of the family look Japanese or Chinese but there is a slight family resemblance with the Mongols of the western steppes by some of the older pictures I have seen of my relatives on my grandmother’s side.  So I could be related to one of the Kahn boys.  But who knows and will ever know.  My grandmother’s side of the family are 100% Americans whatever that means.

My grandfather’s side of the family was also 100% Americans.  Of course his great great grandfather came from Scotland, via of Northern Ireland, then back to Northern Ireland, where his father was probably fathered by a Spaniard whose ship was wrecked along the coast of Eire after the Spanish Armada failure.  The Spaniard was probably descended from either Moors or maybe even a frisky Roman legionnaire, who gained his freedom fighting in the Coliseum as a gladiator.  But the McAnally family is 100% American whatever that means. 

The McAnally family of this day and age are Americans by choice.  I have an array of cousins, grandchildren, in-laws, nieces, nephews, and a brother and sister, that when we get together looks like a meeting of the United Nations.  For example I have African American grandchildren, Hispanic and Greek nieces and nephews, a Korean daughter-in-law and granddaughter , a son-in-law from the Balkans, the Gay community is represented, a female impersonator vaudevillian (two different people,) several republicans, a couple of democrats, one bomb throwing anarchist, and one in prison.  Some are still fighting the civil war on both sides.  We have a couple of rich ones, more than enough poor ones, doctors, lawyers, and candlestick makers.  The only group not represented is Native Americans but I do have a half brother and sister that by the tone of their skin is suspect, and I dated an Eskimo girl while I lived in Alaska but I don’t think that counts.  But all in all we are all 100% Americans what ever that means.

Family Secrets - Aunt Daisy

Family Secrets - Aunt Daisy

Aunt Daisy lived alone.  She was born the same year that President Truman was and out lived him by ten years.  Daisy never married and was the only non retarded daughter in a house hold of 6 boys.  She was 21 years older than my grandfather and was responsible for much of his parenting. 

Daisy outlived all her family even my grandfather so therefore she was the recipient of all the collectables that the family acquired through the years.  Daisy never married because the family, so my grandfather told me once, never thought anyone was quite good enough for her.  She never worked at a paid job in her life so had no social security and no visible means of support.  My grandfather helped a little in paying for a one room apartment close to where we lived and for a time being she lived with the oldest brother, Frank, a not so nice guy so it was said, who had a wooden leg due to a rail road accident.  She took care of the youngest boy at the beginning of his life and took care of the oldest boy at the end of his life.  Daisy never had a life of her own.  Some how she managed to survive through some sort of old age pension and a rail road pension that some how her brother or father, who had also worked for the rail road once, had managed to arrange.  Her limited income and survival technique was never really explained to me but that is not the family secret.

When Daisy died she left nothing to anyone, basically because she had nothing.  There were some knickknacks around the apartment that were sort of interesting and held some memories for me due to the fact that I had seen them all my life. 

It was left to my grandmother to get rid of anything that was left including Daisy who was buried in the family plot.  My grandmother asked me what I wanted and I said I liked the picture of the Gilded Age lady in the oval frame with the bubble glass.  I use to think it was a picture of Daisy when she was a young lady and when I asked as much she would laugh in what can only be described as a little embarrassing giggle with her hand placed over her mouth and mumble “no.”

Wife Marty wanted the frame with the bubble glass and was not interested in the picture, I was interested in the picture but not the bubbled glass frame.  

I extracted the picture and dutifully gave Marty the frame. (Which she has hanging in her house today, picture being replaced by a McAnally original of some sort.)  After the extract I noticed that on the reverse side there was in inscription in what I recognized as Daisy’s hand writing – “Charlie as Woman.”  I was a little puzzled.

I asked my grandmother about it and she said that was a picture of Cousin Charlie who was a female impersonator some time prior to the 1920’s.  He was an actor but specialized in playing a woman on stage.  “We never really talked about him much, I sort of figured he was just a little strange,” my grandmother said.

Family Secrets - Fern, Orville, Abe, and perhaps one more

Family Secrets - Fern, Orville, Abe, and Perhaps One More.

Fern Neibarger was a real Sooner.  She was born sooner than expected in Oklahoma soon after her mother and father staked a piece of land sooner than they were supposed to. 

Fern’s father proved to be no better of a farmer in Oklahoma than he was in Pennsylvania.  It wasn’t too many years later that the only land he could lay clame to was the plot he was buried in. 

Fern was farmed out, so to speak, to a cousin in Kansas City, Kansas to help clean, cook, and any other domestic chore the older cousin wished to be undertaken.  Fern started looking for a way out of the situation as soon as she got there.  Her rescue game at church one Sunday in the guise of a dashing looking fellow giving the sermon.  He seemed the type of man that held promise.  They were soon married and soon had two daughters, my mother being the youngest. 

Looks can be deceiving and Fern found out, not soon enough, that Orville really had no promise of financial future, was only a minor part of the church laity, and his mother, Alice, came along as part of the marriage. 

Orville was not a stupid or lazy man it was just some work was beneath him, some he thought was wasteful to spend time on, and sometimes his religious views irritated his co workers to the point that somebody had to go and it was usually Orville.  Of course all of this was taking place during the depression to make matters worse.  However Fern was resourceful.

Abe was the widowed mail man who also happened to own a grocery store.  During his rounds delivering mail he became acquainted with every one and their particular situation.  If some one was having difficulty he would make sure that now and then he would let them charge food at his store or in some cases just give them food to get by.  He started supplying Fern and Orville food items on a regular basis.

Orville appreciated the gesture at first but when Orville gained steady employment he noticed that Abe still kept coming around delivering free food items, but always when Orville was away.  Orville demanded that Abe never come back to the house which would have been tricky since Abe was also the postman, but as luck would have it Abe got promoted about the same time and no longer had a route.

Orville and Fern started doing more for the church.  Orville was called upon to do more lecturing while Fern wrote and edited religious pamphlets.  She became so adept at editing and writing that she was noticed by church officials in Independence.  (I hope you have noticed that I have not said which church started by Joseph Smith, nor will I for obvious reason that will soon be divulged.)

The officials in the church found it necessary to work with Fern closer and closer and a real professional friendship developed.  One day probably after a night meeting, which there seemed to be plenty of, Fern and one of the elders realized that their friendship had taken on another dimension.  Their ability to keep such dimensions a secret was not a success for very long. 

When confronted with rumors that were never admitted to or proved, Fern’s friend quietly resigned his position, donated some money to the church and had a library named after him.  Fern on the other hand said that the church had no right to judge her, that she had done nothing wrong in her view and would not give up the laity position she held in the church.  She was threatened with censor and she, based on some doctrine of the church, demanded a trial in front of the entire body of elders.  She was informed that if she insisted on such a trial she would be excommunicated from the church.  She insisted. She was found guilty of transgression against the sacrament of marriage.  Orville was so humiliated of course that he divorced Fern and he and Alice left. 

Like I mentioned above, Fern was resourceful.  She had two kids to take care of.  She looked up Abe, married him and lived happily ever after albeit for not to long.

Fern made the most out of what remained of her life.  She became active in Scouting, spent summers with Abe at Camp Nash, a Boy Scout camp in Kansas, started the first Girl Scout troop in KCK, wrote and published a book of poems and one on religious symbols.  She became very active in a non denominational congregational church.  She contracted lupus fell and broke her hip and ended up dieing at 52 leaving Abe with a huge hospital bill.

The hospital bill was soon paid by an anonymous party.  The only information the hospital would give the family was that payment was drawn on a bank in Independence, Missouri. 

Family Secrets - Trading places

Family Secrets - Trading Places

While not an adventure as such it really did happen and an event I cannot tell another about in person without tears coming to my eyes and not choking on the last two words I say.

It was the summer of 1966 and for some reason that eludes me to this day I decided I wanted to be a pilot. I first thought of jets and talked to the Navy and Air Force. They were not very encouraging because of my lack of a college degree but did offer to let me take the test. I did and failed. Then I thought the Army might be the way to go. The first person I mentioned the matter to was Carl Simonie, my high school English teacher. He just shook his head and said, "Well you know where they will send you."

I then thought it best to say something to my family. That is when the trouble began. They went wild with dread and worry. It seemed like they were more concerned about southeast Asia than I was.  My dad, a veteran of Korea told me he really couldn't give me any advice because if he said go do it and then I got "shot up" he would forever feel responsible. If he told me to wait and then I went and got shot it would be his fault also. My grandmother cried most of the time, my mom did almost the same, my aunts and uncles got after me about how could I do this to my family. My grandfather did not say much at all.

As the time drew nearer for me to take the test that would determine the family future it seemed, the more intense it got around the house. It became almost unbearable, it seemed like the tension could not even be cut with a knife.

Finally it was the morning of the big test. I was standing out on the back porch. My grandfather came out, looked me in the eye and said, "Do you really want to be a helicopter pilot?" I responded yes. "Then son you go do it. I just want you to remember one thing. If I could go in your place, I would." .....Gee I thought I could get through writing  this account without tears anyway.

Death on the Tundra

Death in Alaska

Recently a very good friend of mine read one of my Alaska Log posting where I wrote how one of my students had gone to the hospital in Anchorage.  She, my friend asked me what happened to the girl.  I guess I failed to continue the story.  Several years ago I wrote a short piece for a magazine.  I changed the name of my student but what follows is a true account of what happened.

Death on the Tundra

Bright Moon and a bunch of her friends were riding their four wheelers on the beach late one night. They were playing a game the kids called ditch'm. Bright Moon was riding with three other girls when they hit a piece of driftwood and thrown in different directions. All suffered head trauma. They were evacuated to the regional hospital a couple of hundred miles away by plane. No small feat in the middle of the night in the Alaskan bush but unfortunately a common one. Bright Moon was the most severely injured so she was sent on to Anchorage. The family managed to raise enough money to be at her side the next day and eventually faced the horrendous decision of pulling the plug.

School was sort of a dismal place waiting for news about Bright Moon's condition. The vice principal spoke over the intercom to try and set the record straight about her condition and asked everyone to observe a moment of silent prayer. An hour later he came back over the intercom and informed us that Bright Moon had died. School was dismissed.

The next day some village elders, a social worker and the missionary came to Bright Moon's classroom and had everyone who wanted talk about her do so and to more or less comfort one another. They sang songs, held hands, and prayed. No separation of church and state that day.

A day or so later her body was flown back to the village where it was laid out on the family's living room floor. The wake was like a wake anywhere else. Friends and neighbors brought food, shared hugs and memories, shed tears, and bid Bright Moon farewell.  The body was laid on a piece of plywood surrounded by folding chairs just inches away from Bright Moon.  Everyone took turns sitting in those chairs for quiet contemplation.

The next day a large funeral was held in the school gym. All the stores were closed, school was put on hold, and even the post office closed down.

A few days later Bright Moon's mother came to our classroom and presented us with an 8 x 10 colored photograph of Bright Moon. I found an old rosary and draped it over the picture. The picture and rosary hung there the rest of the school year.

When I returned the next school year the picture was still hanging on the wall. Some of Bright Moon's friends came by and asked if they could take it to their new classroom. It was a procedure that would be followed until her class graduated from high school.

The year book that year will have a page dedicated to Bright Moon.. At the graduation ceremony her picture will be placed on the seat where she would have sat. Her name will be read as if receiving a diploma and then a close friend or relative will carry the picture down the aisle towards a future that should have been hers.

Log 11, Alaska

Log 11,  Alaska

8/17/04

Gee, no entry for a long , long time.  I am in Pitka's Point. Paula stayed back to take care of the boys.  I'm alone up here and really don't like it - the part about being alone.  But that has always been one of my fantasies, to winter in the far north alone and isolated.  Well perhaps I am not that isolated there are three other white teachers, several native staff, and 120 other villagers.  Interesting place so far.

8/23/04

This last week has been spent getting ready for school.  It starts Wed the 25th.  I went for a walk after dinner tonight and found myself on the banks of the Yukon River talking to a couple who were kayaking to Nome.  I told them they could come up to the school and use the Internet to check mail.  They may come up later.

8/24/04

School starts tomorrow.  I am about as ready as I ever am.

8/26/04

School is OK.  I only have seven in the class.  A real dream job.  There are only 35 in the whole school.  The grades are K - 8, and then the kids transfer to St. Marys, about 15 miles down the one road in these parts.  There is one young man named Gabe who is very smart and one other who is funny as all get out.  The others are good kids, but there is always one with an attitude.  The problem is that his grandmother is my assistant.

8/28/04

I am the cross country coach which is stupid because I don't know the first thing about it, but some one had to do it and I am the only man on staff and the ladies did not want to.  I got a book about it and set up a practice schedule but the kids sort of come and go at will.  They don't like to practice for very long.  Their parents take them netting or hunting, or they have to baby sit.  There is always some reason.  Gabe seems to be the best.  There is a district rule that they have to practice 10 days before a meet.  To accommodate the kids I have practice on Sat and Sun, sometimes 2 per day so they can get in the required practices, gee what a nice guy I am, but it is not like I have much else to do.

8/29/04

Went to church in St Marys.  They have a Jesuit society there.

9/1/04

Got paid, $3781 clear.

10/16/04

Took Claudia, our principal-lead teacher to the airport this moring.  She is going to Anchorage for a principals meeting.  Left me in charge.  Perhaps I will call school off for the rest of the week.
                                                                           *
11-26-17

Note to reader:  For some reason I stopped keeping a log as such and have no more day to day entries to make.  Some how now and then I run across items that seem to fit this narrative and if I do I will share them with you. 

I didn't call off school that week.  I don't remember the names of the other teachers except for Claudia and I can say we were all friends but not close ones.  I had thought that that would be my last year but Paula filed for divorce when I was there and sort of left me in a financial bind.  Absence makes the heart grown fonder, but usually for some one else.  That is not really fair, she had a host of family problems  to deal with and one can only do so much.  We tried to reconcile but its is hard to do over the phone etc.  I saw her once the following year but nothing really came of it. I have not seen her since - that shipped sailed.  I came back one more year and have visited three additional times.

Log 10, Alaska

 Log 10

1/14/03

No entry for a long time.  Went to Dixon and KC, had a nice time visiting kids, better than usual.  Been doing most of my writing working on stories, trying to get them ready to send to friends.  There is a lot of snow and the weather is very cold now.  Alexa came back with us.  She doesn’t appear to like me much, perhaps time will change that.

The teachers are all in a ditty because they heard that a consultant was making a hit list.  I’ve gotten along well with the guy but people like Mike Jump says he is not to be trusted.

There are some things wrong about the educational system in Alaska.  The Administrators by and large are inept and have no long range programs.  The school boards are comprised of well meaning but culturally different Eskimos who think tradition should over shadow all.  There are a lot of teachers that just give up and are staying for the money only and find it easy to fool the administration and community that they are doing a great job.  All one has to do is keep the status quo, tell the parents how great their kids are doing, and basically just not rock the boat.  All so the parents are very lenient.  Given the combination above it doesn’t make for a good learning environment. 

There are many ways to solve this problem one of which is to have everyone held accountable via standardized tests.  One problem I can see is how do you standardize a test for Eskimos, some of which have never seen a side walk?

1/18/03

Snowing, cold, and basketball game.  Have spent the morning doing little except studying on my Alaskan History course and sending emails.  Paula cooked a nice breakfast – Egg omelet, bacon, raisin bread, yum, yum.

2/2/03

Saw the northern lights.  Spent a long time getting on my clothes to go see them.  Not a real good display.  Reports of polar bear prints north of town.

Log 9, Alaksa

 Log 9, Alaska

11/18/02

I went out tonight and walked around hoping to see the northern lights.  I didn’t so I then hoped I would see some Hooper Bay night life.  All I could see was a bunch of 4 wheelers running all over town, going God knows where.  Which brings something up, I did run into one of my students out in the dark, he said he was just walking around until he ran into his friends.  It is starting to get cold now , don’t know exactly what the temp is, but it is cold..

12/12/02

No entry for a long time.  Thanksgiving was spent at the Principal’s house.  Paula left for Dixon – I’ll leave on the 21.  she said she spent 26 hours in travel time including airport waiting areas.

At a pot luck for the students an old Eskimo man asked me if he could borrow Paula.  I wasn’t quick enough to ask him how many seal skins he had to trade. 

Things are quiet.  I did manage to piss off the post mistress, but am still getting mail.

The kids are very restless in the afternoon.  The morning class is good though.

Paula and I thought we would go to the Amboy Church Xmas eve – that ought to be interesting if my second wife is there also.  I need to some how make contact with Darren while there.

12/13/02

Got stopped in the hall on the way to lunch.  Marta was furious.  She got a bad evaluation.  I have never seen her teach but she can’t be a bad teacher.  In fact I have never heard anything but praise about her skills.  The administration does not like her because she is out spoken.  She is also the union rep.  She says she is going to appeal the evaluation than sue the principal personally.  Pot luck ought to be fun tonight.

Log 8, Alaska

 Log  8 

11-1-02

November already, amazing.  The computer is set up, I am on line but still need to hook up the scanner and printer.  Paula got her second pay check today.  The twist is she was supposed to get it yesterday but the plane was not able to come in – where else does that happen? 

Halloween was calm. Nothing exciting.  Big to do  tonight.  Dance and a spook hallway up in the school.  Looks good, will have to walk through it later tonight. 

One couple has been here twenty years, love to camp, own a boat, four wheeler, and snow machine.  They live in one of the nicer places.  He is a jack of all trades, fixed our cable when it went out, let us use his satellite unit, very helpful but remains isolated a little from the rest of us.

11-05-02

We had a housing inspection yesterday by the central office.  They are looking at all the teacher housing in the district to levelize rents. Some units better than others but the rents are not equal.  Ours is OK for the most part, don’t expect the rent to go up or down.

One of the new teachers is kind of a sad case.  Flunked out of a PhD program, should not be teaching middle school, poor class room management.  No real friends, no TV, no stock pile of food.  We had him over for dinner once, nice enough guy to talk to, seems to know a lot about Russia.

11-12-02

Megan had Eva yesterday or the day before depending on the time between here and there.  Seems as though Dad left an insurance policy to be divided between us kids and Marsha – don’t know how much.  There is little to write about my Alaska adventure right now and it is too cold to go out exploring without transportation of some sort.  Been writing some stories.

11-14-02

One of my students is dieing from a head injury she suffered from a four wheeler accident.  Chasing around at night, hit a log on the beach, flew off.  She is on life support.  Benise Smith, 13,  Two other girls were hurt also.  Benise is in the hospital in Anchorage. Her parents flew there, they have no money to speak of.  The father is one of our janitors and her mother is a sub and works with Paula sometimes.  We will have to go to the funeral – I hear it is an ordeal.  I will let you know, dear reader.