Even With Death in this World, Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #16
May 13 '10
The Bottom Line Even with death in this world our home still provides fun-filled and loving memories.
How could the death of a father's 22 year old daughter be a treasured memory? It's simple, in spite of an awful tragedy, love continues to fill our home.
After receiving the middle-of-the-night door-bell ring that every parent fears my wife and I hunkered down with our other four children until daylight started to fill the air on the morning of May 6th. At seven or eight O'clock we started making the appropriate phone calls letting those near and dear to us that our daughter Jennifer was killed in an auto/truck accident early after mid-night. Making those calls was hard to do. I was also set to go to the county morgue to ID my daughter. My children and my wife suggested I don't go. It was probably because of health reasons and also that it was clear to all that my last memories of my daughter were glorious and God given. Let me explain starting the previous day.
...Our Jennifer unexpectedly came home on Wednesday evening, grabbed a quick bite and changed. She and two friend/coworkers had a plan for the evening. Knowing Jennifer, she was leading this expedition.
She came down wearing a colourful dress. She had our souvenier sombrero in her hand. We kept it hanging on a wall with other travel souvenirs on our stairwell. I asked her for it so I could clean it a bit having picked up some dust. She then placed it on her head and gave her usual big smile. She looked amazing! Jennifer started walking out of our house via the front door. I stopped her directing Jenn to go out the back "so mom can see you"...and she did. Jennifer's older sister was there too. I watched through the window as Jennifer bounded down the three steps in glee with shouts of "CincoDeMayo!" as she passed mom and sis and walked out to her car...a car she called her "Space Ship." We often laughed about that car. It was an old wagon that had a dash board with"Star Trek" like gadgets. She was always running from here to there visiting one group of friends or another, to her brother's home to talk of life, to a dear friends, to our home with specific instructions for a particular dinner, to another brother's home to stay overnight and babysit their children, to her other place of work where she did laser shows (to help pay off college loans), to visit old school friends in the northeast, on a play date with her neices to other people's homes, to the city to see a show, to some relative for dinner or to just talk...she was always, always on the move.
That night however she and her cohorts had a plan. They work for an on-line promotional company. You know, the ones that make pens, t-shirt and more withthe name of your company or slogan on them. They decided they wanted to make a film. The plan...Go to a party atmosphere, blow up beach balls withtheircompany'slogo on them and let the revelers have fun with the items as my daughter and cohorts video taped them...and they did!!
Later that evening at about 11:35 or so I heard from Jennifer. "We did it dad!" She started giving hurried and excited details. I don't hear all that well but it was something about "couldn't get back in"..."didn't know she was still in there"..."beach balls over the fence"..." we got great video."
Jennifer was off the phone in a flash. My wife started asking me questions. I had basics but no details. I told her we would hear the whole story from Jennifer later. We never did...some thirty five/forty minutes later she was gone from this world.
Two brothers and one daughter went to do the ID. That was OK for me. I already had my last image of my beautiful Jennifer running out the door earlier. When they came back they told me she had a smile on her face. What else could I or should I have expected? She was always on a journey to fun and adventure. This time she was on her final journey in her "Space Ship" to see our God.
Upon family discussion it was decided we would celebrate Jennifer's life the next few days. There would NOT be a dark funeral home with all tears and little communication. We planned to open our home to all who cared to visit, cry, laugh, share stories and more...and visit they did.
First, and unexpectedly to me, coming to our home that morning were friends from our church. (Shouldn't have been unexpected) We are blessed with one particular group. We call ourselves fourteen faithful friends. The number may be slightly different now (larger). We have been friends and more for some thirty years or more.
Our friends took over bringing breakfast and preparing our home for visitors. For the next four/five days they shopped, set-up, prepared, presented, cleaned and accepted deliveries and such leaving my wife and I along with our family free to spend time with the hundreds of people that passed through our front doors and into our back yard. Chairs and tables magically filled our large back yard providing some comfort to our friends and family. Many other church friends, neighbors and family continued to provide for everything my family may have needed.
The flowers, cookies, fruit baskets, food trays and all kept our tables and stomachs full and the catering that our friends and family set up and paid for over the next five days was accomplished with heartfelt compassion. Trees, plants, bushes, statuary and more were sent to us. We will be setting up a small memorial garden for my daughter Jennifer in our back yard that is now bordered by perennials prepared to bloom this season.
Along with the deliveries were the personal visits from some we never expected. One gal, Mary, who was in the first youth group my wife and I lead some twenty-something years ago, traveled from Pennsylvania to pay her respects. She also brought along her 16 year old daughter. With the beauty of a rainbow appearing after a dark rain storm our kitchen was suddenly filled with the voice of a young lady singing "Memories." It was an amazing moment as Mary brought her child to sing for us. A kind and inspirational gift for our family, it was.
Minutes later they were on their way back to Pennsylvania but the memories were just starting to be told. That is, the memories of Jennifer and how she effected lives and the way she guided so many. I always knew my Jenny was special but the stories, one after another brought out her love of life and service to others to another dimension. We were particularly blessed with Jen's schoolmates from St Joseph's of Maine a college she graduated from last year on the same Mother's Day weekend. Three who graduated on Saturday this year, immediately after the ceremony, drove down five and a half hours staying in NY for two days to visit us. They were joined by many others, perhaps ten, who also came in throughout the weekend.
One good school friend flew in from San Francisco and stayed four days. A very dear friend of my daughter's who she sponsored when he became a Catholic drove down from Maine with his parents. They are good people we did have the pleasure of meeting and spending time with in Maine. They came down, spent a few hours and made the full drive all the way back again. They said, "They wanted to be here." Their sacrifice was greatly appreciated.
Young people from my daughter's job also spent time at our home. No, not just a few moments and leaving for their local homes. There were some that came to our home EVERY SINGLE DAY and spent hours talking with us and telling us stories about our Jennifer. We also learned more details as to my daughter's final hours. All I can say is that, as I already knew from seeing her off that evening and hearing from her later that night that, she was in complete joy and in her element having fun and on some kind of mission of doing something special.
My wife and I believe she was inspired to help others years earlier after making two trips down to Jamaica working with Father Ho Lung and the Missionaries of the Poor. Jennifer at age 14 was working with serverly physically handicapped children and others that were dying of AIDS. She showed compassion for others and continued to do so throughout the rest of her life.
Compassion was showed to us by our dear friends, family and church community. Each night was punctuated by something special. One priest and two deacons prepared services for us Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. Their words, prayers and kind gestures continued to nourish the soul and share the love that Jennifer's life brought to so many she touched.
Jennifer went to Toronto in 2002 to see Pope John Paul at the World Youth Day. A particular youth group member who now co-teaches the current church YouthMinistry group with my wife lead the group in Canada on many a day playing his trumpet blasting "When the Saint's Go Marching In." One of those evening at our home we heard the trumpet once again, this time outside our home as the young man played that song leading a column of young people and adults into our home and living room whith everyone started singing along and clapping their hands... "Praise God!" is all I can say. It's a moment I will never forget.
On another evening a guitar player/singer from our churches prayer group lead us in songs to charismatic proportion. Our home was filled with raised voices offering prayers for our daughter.
The four days in our home were filled with prayer and song, tears and laughter, serious matters that Jennifer helped lead her peers through and silly stories of Jenny's antics. What I never heard were regrets.
Having young people in our home usually means a party is about to happen. On Sunday night, the last night before her funeral, when most people had left we did have a dance party for Jennifer. Some of the young people, schoolmates, friends and co-workers along with her sisters found her strobe lights. Glow necklaces, silly hats and such were distributed and a dance track played. We enjoyed each other in her honour. The dancing followed the pouring out of goodies that Jennifer liked from a piñata that her friends purchased and filled with "Jenny things" earlier in the evening.
On one earlier evening my wife caught the eye of a young man wearing a white collar of a priest. My wife ran to him and was introducing him by first name to many around. Someone reminded her, "It's Father!" To my wife this was Brian from our youth group years before. He said addressing him as "Father" didn't matter. The fact is his being with us was all that mattered to me and my wife. It was powerul witness that this young man came and spent time with us for our loss that night and con-celebrated mass a couple of days later.
We buried Jennifer on Monday morning, a glorious day. Even the mass attended by so many and rites at the cemetary gave us special memories. I'll never forget the packed church and also the image of some twenty or so young people walking through the whole cemetery to get to my daughter's place of rest. Afterward we all left as we were singing. "When the Saint's Go Marching In."
We all returned to our home. As I walk around I still see perhaps 100 photos of my daughter on walls, shelves and tables throughout our home. Most of them will be placed back in albums soon.
I hope to continue to hear stories and share memories as Jennifer's close friends continue to visit us and help us through this most difficult of times.
I have started to read entries in a special book where many penned their last messages to Jennifer. That will continue to be hard to do but, even so, they will contribute to Pop's Home Filled With Treasured Memories.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Pops Home: Filled with treasured memories
and so I add the second in the series of Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories
Part #2 of Treasured Memories in our home.
The memories are in no specific order by date or importance. Each is but another nugget stored in our treasure chest of memories, called home.
----------------------------------------------------
This Is Our House!
It was back in 1974 that my wife and I were able to purchase our home in Freeport on the south shore of Long Island. We lived in the town for two years renting an apartment when we first married. Freeport had the diversity we looked for and proximity to all we desired. We decided to call it our home.
Because I was working as a commission salesman in a big ticket department in Sears at 18, while my wife continued her studies in art education, I was able to save some money. With a little help from my parents, we purchased our home that had a kitchen, formal dining room, large living room, four bedrooms, two baths, a basement and an attic on a quarter acre plot of land.
After the closing my wife and I went to our new house. I was extremely excited. I recall being in the empty structure with our voices echoing as I was shouting, "This is OUR house!! This is OUR house!! I'll never forget my doing somersaults across the huge living room floor. I was like a little kid who couldn't express himself and acted out in silly ways. It was an a wonderful feeling to have a place we could call our own.
This totally empty house would soon start to collect the memories that make it our home.
Making It Into Our Home
We moved in and started to decorate the house to our liking. I was awed by the way my wife could visualize an empty room as finished in colour, furnishings and arrangement. This was a part of her that has continues to amaze me through the past 34 years in our home. When younger we would travel locally and across the states. She would find something and purchase it saying she would use it in our home. More often than not it would be stored away until the next project of a room began. I would prep and paint the room and she would later bring out the stored items that were practical and filled the room perfectly in colour and good taste. She had a picture of the room in her mind well before the process of making it happen even started. Did I tell you this amazes me?
There have been a multitude of times over the years when friends have stated her design, colours and arrangements should be in home magazines. I have always been very proud of marrying a gal who could work that kind of magic.
Not everything came easily to me though. Sometimes she had me doing what I thought were the weirdest thing in decorating. All I could do was let my faith in her talent and skills lead me to another finished project that would once again astound me.
I recall one year stapling yards and yards of yellow/orange and red gingham on the wall and ceiling of our dining room to give the effect she wanted. She sewed them all together and I hung it using 12,642 staples. OK, so I really don't know how many but it was a lot. The finished room was beautiful and quite romantic. Ha, I'll never forget the abstract nude that she painted and placed over my head as I sat at the head of our dining room table. Fortunately a lighted candle never fell over and ignited the walls and ceiling of that room, although even that scene would not match how spectacular her work has always been.
Paint Colour on Walls May Change But Memories Never Fade
Being an artist my wife has a yearning to change things fairly often. I recall one wall in our living room, 9' X 20' where she painted a landscape that had a Monet' feel to it. It was subdued yet stunning! Just a couple-a-few years later she stated she was ready for a change and I couldn't help but feeling I was being disrespectful and insolent as I painted over that artistic work of hers. To my wife, it was just a start to another project.
I won't let her change the looks of our bedroom though. She painted it up like a scene in the Caribbean. It's in pastel colours and I have palm trees in front of me and over my head. The bed is painted like we are on a calm turquoise sea and the light beige carpeting is the sand I place my bare feet on.
Each morning I get up I continue to be in awe of her work surrounding me. It's hard to believe that I am living in New York State yet I awake in a tropical paradise.
Our home is perhaps a bit more staid now that we have gotten older. That said she has her "signature" in most every room whether it be colour, design or her own hand painted piece of work. A few of our walls are about to get another coat of paint. The colours and designs of rooms-past may be hidden by new coats of paint but the memories of good times had in them are bright as day and will remain forever.
END
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #2
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #3
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #4
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #5
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #6
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #7
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #8
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #9
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #10
Part #2 of Treasured Memories in our home.
The memories are in no specific order by date or importance. Each is but another nugget stored in our treasure chest of memories, called home.
----------------------------------------------------
This Is Our House!
It was back in 1974 that my wife and I were able to purchase our home in Freeport on the south shore of Long Island. We lived in the town for two years renting an apartment when we first married. Freeport had the diversity we looked for and proximity to all we desired. We decided to call it our home.
Because I was working as a commission salesman in a big ticket department in Sears at 18, while my wife continued her studies in art education, I was able to save some money. With a little help from my parents, we purchased our home that had a kitchen, formal dining room, large living room, four bedrooms, two baths, a basement and an attic on a quarter acre plot of land.
After the closing my wife and I went to our new house. I was extremely excited. I recall being in the empty structure with our voices echoing as I was shouting, "This is OUR house!! This is OUR house!! I'll never forget my doing somersaults across the huge living room floor. I was like a little kid who couldn't express himself and acted out in silly ways. It was an a wonderful feeling to have a place we could call our own.
This totally empty house would soon start to collect the memories that make it our home.
Making It Into Our Home
We moved in and started to decorate the house to our liking. I was awed by the way my wife could visualize an empty room as finished in colour, furnishings and arrangement. This was a part of her that has continues to amaze me through the past 34 years in our home. When younger we would travel locally and across the states. She would find something and purchase it saying she would use it in our home. More often than not it would be stored away until the next project of a room began. I would prep and paint the room and she would later bring out the stored items that were practical and filled the room perfectly in colour and good taste. She had a picture of the room in her mind well before the process of making it happen even started. Did I tell you this amazes me?
There have been a multitude of times over the years when friends have stated her design, colours and arrangements should be in home magazines. I have always been very proud of marrying a gal who could work that kind of magic.
Not everything came easily to me though. Sometimes she had me doing what I thought were the weirdest thing in decorating. All I could do was let my faith in her talent and skills lead me to another finished project that would once again astound me.
I recall one year stapling yards and yards of yellow/orange and red gingham on the wall and ceiling of our dining room to give the effect she wanted. She sewed them all together and I hung it using 12,642 staples. OK, so I really don't know how many but it was a lot. The finished room was beautiful and quite romantic. Ha, I'll never forget the abstract nude that she painted and placed over my head as I sat at the head of our dining room table. Fortunately a lighted candle never fell over and ignited the walls and ceiling of that room, although even that scene would not match how spectacular her work has always been.
Paint Colour on Walls May Change But Memories Never Fade
Being an artist my wife has a yearning to change things fairly often. I recall one wall in our living room, 9' X 20' where she painted a landscape that had a Monet' feel to it. It was subdued yet stunning! Just a couple-a-few years later she stated she was ready for a change and I couldn't help but feeling I was being disrespectful and insolent as I painted over that artistic work of hers. To my wife, it was just a start to another project.
I won't let her change the looks of our bedroom though. She painted it up like a scene in the Caribbean. It's in pastel colours and I have palm trees in front of me and over my head. The bed is painted like we are on a calm turquoise sea and the light beige carpeting is the sand I place my bare feet on.
Each morning I get up I continue to be in awe of her work surrounding me. It's hard to believe that I am living in New York State yet I awake in a tropical paradise.
Our home is perhaps a bit more staid now that we have gotten older. That said she has her "signature" in most every room whether it be colour, design or her own hand painted piece of work. A few of our walls are about to get another coat of paint. The colours and designs of rooms-past may be hidden by new coats of paint but the memories of good times had in them are bright as day and will remain forever.
END
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #2
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #3
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #4
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #5
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #6
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #7
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #8
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #9
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #10
Sports Beans!! Ya gotta be kiddin!
I had my first and last taste of Jelly Belly brand Sport Jelly Beans. Yuk! is the word, is the word, is the word.
Last night my daughter asked me if I was available to babysit my grand daughter. I told her, Yes, and jokingly stated it would cost her ten jelly beans. A bit later my daughter came into the family room and tossed me a small orange package. The familiar Jelly Belly logo was in the corner and in big broad letters were the words, SPORTS BEANS Energizing Jelly Beans. Another tab stated Quick Energy for sports endurance. I had to laugh and say, "They gotta be kiddin!"
Unfortunately they weren't. I ran my fingers over the 1 ounce bag. My daughter was overpaying me. I felt thirteen jelly beans.
These sports jelly beans offer carbs, electrolytes and Vitamins B & C. The print told me that i could Energize with one pack 30 minutes before activity. Use additional beans as needed during activity to sustain energy level. Replenish with one pack after activity. Always consume with water.
The top ingredients include evaporated cane juice, tapioca syrup, orange juice from orange puree and a host of things like thiamine, riboflavin, vitamins and wax. Yup, Beeswax and Carnauba wax.
Pops and Sports Beans
Yeah sure, I'm about to gulp down a buncha jelly beans for energy. I'm gonna chew on these dozen or so beans as part of my training. Nope! It ain't gonna happen especially after tasting these things. They taste like medicine and are too chewy. The supposed orange flavour gives way to a musty, yucky sourish taste that lingers. I see why they state that you must have water with the product. That's to try and wash out the awful flavour from your mouth.
I do have to say that I did have much more energy as I sat on my couch watching TV. I was able to use the remote much more efficiently. Zip Zap I could move from station to station in nothing flat. I never did replenish for more energy afterward. I wasn't about to taste the stuff again.
Pops Last Word
The Jelly Belly Sports Bean comes in varied fruit flavours.
Perhaps it's the adolescent in me but, I gotta laugh every time I say the words, "Sports Beans." I suppose it's my thinking of " Beans, Beans, the musical fruit the more you eat the more you toot."
Jelly Belly brand Sports Beans...
I'll pass.
Last night my daughter asked me if I was available to babysit my grand daughter. I told her, Yes, and jokingly stated it would cost her ten jelly beans. A bit later my daughter came into the family room and tossed me a small orange package. The familiar Jelly Belly logo was in the corner and in big broad letters were the words, SPORTS BEANS Energizing Jelly Beans. Another tab stated Quick Energy for sports endurance. I had to laugh and say, "They gotta be kiddin!"
Unfortunately they weren't. I ran my fingers over the 1 ounce bag. My daughter was overpaying me. I felt thirteen jelly beans.
These sports jelly beans offer carbs, electrolytes and Vitamins B & C. The print told me that i could Energize with one pack 30 minutes before activity. Use additional beans as needed during activity to sustain energy level. Replenish with one pack after activity. Always consume with water.
The top ingredients include evaporated cane juice, tapioca syrup, orange juice from orange puree and a host of things like thiamine, riboflavin, vitamins and wax. Yup, Beeswax and Carnauba wax.
Pops and Sports Beans
Yeah sure, I'm about to gulp down a buncha jelly beans for energy. I'm gonna chew on these dozen or so beans as part of my training. Nope! It ain't gonna happen especially after tasting these things. They taste like medicine and are too chewy. The supposed orange flavour gives way to a musty, yucky sourish taste that lingers. I see why they state that you must have water with the product. That's to try and wash out the awful flavour from your mouth.
I do have to say that I did have much more energy as I sat on my couch watching TV. I was able to use the remote much more efficiently. Zip Zap I could move from station to station in nothing flat. I never did replenish for more energy afterward. I wasn't about to taste the stuff again.
Pops Last Word
The Jelly Belly Sports Bean comes in varied fruit flavours.
Perhaps it's the adolescent in me but, I gotta laugh every time I say the words, "Sports Beans." I suppose it's my thinking of " Beans, Beans, the musical fruit the more you eat the more you toot."
Jelly Belly brand Sports Beans...
I'll pass.
Barbados Museum. Learnin' the history and much more of this island.
My wife and I enjoyed a few hours last month at the Barbados Museum and Historical Society thta was a short walk from our hotel. Here's more...
Along with the surf, sun and snorkeling on and around Caribbean Islands I also enjoy learning about the history of the islands I visit. Barbados was no exception especially when able to visit the Barbados Museum and Historical Society.
The museum is housed in what was once a British prison in the Garrison section of Barbados just outside their largest city, Bridgetown.
Our Visit
We stayed at a small resort the Coconut Court Beach Hotel that is quite close to the Garrison. In fact a three minute walk brought us to what was once the parade grounds and is now a popular race track where early morning runs of thoroughbred horses is a delight to see.
My wife and I walked the fifteen minute distance to the Barbados Museum and Historical Society. The structure that was once a prison is well maintained and the people who run the place friendly and professional. We paid the small amount and were given guides. We were also given very specific direction as to each room and section of the complex we should go to. Some rooms were air conditioned and some were not. The a/c, I believe was more for the preservation of particular artifacts rather than giving the vistors comfort. I was comfortable throughout the your.
The museums layout was easy to explore and learn from. Displays were well marked. The museum gave much natural history and talked of the islands make-up. Because my wife and I particularly enjoy snorkeling the sea life exhibit was a big draw to us.
I was quite impressed with the artifacts of the Caribbeans first inhabitants, the Amerindians. The displays offered more than I expected giving great detail to the history of the island.
The rooms dedicated to slavery and the heroes of the anti-slavery movement quite touching. It was also NOT white-washed.
Some of the rooms were open to move about in. Once in a courtyard we were able to peer through open windows into rooms filled with
antiques from long gone plantation houses. I thought that method of display unique and effective.
Last Thoughts
I believe this a MUST SEE stop if in Barbados. The setting is laid back yet quite informative. Each room is well displayed and has information to read at your own pace.
For people taking excursions of cruise ships in Bridgetown its but a three minute cab ride out of Bridgetown. I walked the distance from Bridgetown and it took perhaps fifteen twenty minutes. Doing the museum needent take more than an hour and a half so other excursions fill in the rest of the day. For those into forts, cannon and USA president George Washington there's much more in the Garrison district to explore without further travel.
A suggestion is to do the Garrison district and then make arrangement to stay at Coconut Court Beach hotel to use their facilities, have lunch and enjoy their beach. It's just a couple of miles from Bridgetown. For those looking to walk Carlisle Bay Beach is quite beautiful, has some eateries around and for snorkelers ask where the ship wrecks are. They are an easy swim from shore.
The Barbados Museum and Historical Society makes for an excellent introduction to the island. I strongly recommend it!
Barbados, Loving It One day at a Time
St Nicholas Abbey, Barbados
We Stayed at and recommend Coconut Court Beach Hotel, Barbados
Bridgetown, Barbados, The Cruise Ship Port in Barbados
Oistins, A Place to Go and DO when staying in Barbados
Grantley International Airport
Along with the surf, sun and snorkeling on and around Caribbean Islands I also enjoy learning about the history of the islands I visit. Barbados was no exception especially when able to visit the Barbados Museum and Historical Society.
The museum is housed in what was once a British prison in the Garrison section of Barbados just outside their largest city, Bridgetown.
Our Visit
We stayed at a small resort the Coconut Court Beach Hotel that is quite close to the Garrison. In fact a three minute walk brought us to what was once the parade grounds and is now a popular race track where early morning runs of thoroughbred horses is a delight to see.
My wife and I walked the fifteen minute distance to the Barbados Museum and Historical Society. The structure that was once a prison is well maintained and the people who run the place friendly and professional. We paid the small amount and were given guides. We were also given very specific direction as to each room and section of the complex we should go to. Some rooms were air conditioned and some were not. The a/c, I believe was more for the preservation of particular artifacts rather than giving the vistors comfort. I was comfortable throughout the your.
The museums layout was easy to explore and learn from. Displays were well marked. The museum gave much natural history and talked of the islands make-up. Because my wife and I particularly enjoy snorkeling the sea life exhibit was a big draw to us.
I was quite impressed with the artifacts of the Caribbeans first inhabitants, the Amerindians. The displays offered more than I expected giving great detail to the history of the island.
The rooms dedicated to slavery and the heroes of the anti-slavery movement quite touching. It was also NOT white-washed.
Some of the rooms were open to move about in. Once in a courtyard we were able to peer through open windows into rooms filled with
antiques from long gone plantation houses. I thought that method of display unique and effective.
Last Thoughts
I believe this a MUST SEE stop if in Barbados. The setting is laid back yet quite informative. Each room is well displayed and has information to read at your own pace.
For people taking excursions of cruise ships in Bridgetown its but a three minute cab ride out of Bridgetown. I walked the distance from Bridgetown and it took perhaps fifteen twenty minutes. Doing the museum needent take more than an hour and a half so other excursions fill in the rest of the day. For those into forts, cannon and USA president George Washington there's much more in the Garrison district to explore without further travel.
A suggestion is to do the Garrison district and then make arrangement to stay at Coconut Court Beach hotel to use their facilities, have lunch and enjoy their beach. It's just a couple of miles from Bridgetown. For those looking to walk Carlisle Bay Beach is quite beautiful, has some eateries around and for snorkelers ask where the ship wrecks are. They are an easy swim from shore.
The Barbados Museum and Historical Society makes for an excellent introduction to the island. I strongly recommend it!
Barbados, Loving It One day at a Time
St Nicholas Abbey, Barbados
We Stayed at and recommend Coconut Court Beach Hotel, Barbados
Bridgetown, Barbados, The Cruise Ship Port in Barbados
Oistins, A Place to Go and DO when staying in Barbados
Grantley International Airport
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sharing thoughts. Jonestown Massacre and a gal I once knew.
I have been writing on the consumer web site Epinions.com for some eight years. It seems that there will be changes there and much of the content I posted there whether in the Travel section or what they titles the Writers Corner may be lost.
I've decided to move some of those pieces here. The following pertained to the Jonestown Massacre of 1978 when 0ver 900 people drank acenic laced Kool-Aid to their deaths. It was quite a shock and huge news story. As weeks went on a list of the dead was published. A gal I knew in high school was one of the victims...or so I thought. As I learned more of the massacre and those involved in the hierarchy of hte Reverand Jim Jones cult I found out some incredibly disturbing information. Read on.
This is a disturbing story so...
I left high school with a very large graduating class, well over 400. I do reminisce from time to time and go through my copy of the 1967 year book. I do still wonder where some of my class mates are and what they are doing as I look at the black and white photographs and read some of the personal notes scribbled on the pages during those last days of school 4 decades ago.
A Girl I Remember
Aside from one or two people who I am still in contact with there is one name in the book that I have thought of more often than any other. The name in the book is Harriet Tropp. In her picture she is looking out blankly to the left of the camera. There is no smile. Her look is pensive. Above her name it states she was the Editor and Chief of the Yearbook. She was the secretary of the G.A.L.S. and a member of the National Honor Society. Further on in the book she is listed with all those in the Most Popular and Likely to Succeed section. She is listed as Most Creative.
I didn't really know Harriet. She was in high honors classes that I can't even say I wish I was part of at the time. My interest then was sports and a gal who would become my wife of 35 years and still counting. I did see Harriet in the halls and cafeteria. I believe we may have been in a business law class together, but even if so, I never talked with her.
Seeing Her After Eleven Years
Eleven years after graduation I saw her name again. It was in a newspaper. I was caught by surprise, shocked. She was a victim in Guyana, in what became known as the Jonestown Massacre. I don't have the exact figures but I believe more than 500 Americans were part of the over 900 people who died as they followed their leader Jim Jones in a mass suicide. Many went along with his order to drink cyanide laced Kool-Aid. Many gave it to their children first and then drank it themselves. Others died, being shot in the back, trying to get away from the scene of carnage. Some did survive.
I don't remember reading any details about Harriet's death then or over the years. I often did think though of how so many people could be lured by an evil man who promised them a good life only to take all life from them. It always reminded me in some way of the story of satan and Adam and Eve. These followers of Jim Jones weren't truly happy with what they had. They wanted more. More may have been a simpler life but apparently they didn't have their eyes open to what the "People's Temple" really was. They blindly followed a charismatic leader, Jim Jones. Was he a fake and a phony? Years later his own son called him a fraud.
Years have passed. There have been many books printed about Jonestown, the killings and the suicides, I never read any of them. I did however continue to think about Harriet every time I would hear anyone refer to blind followers as Kool-Aid drinkers. Though it may seem strange I also wondered what the scene was like during the havoc of those moments and perhaps hours. Were they happy to be leaving this world, was there fear, were they in pain? I always thought of Harriet's face grimacing as the poison went into and through her body.
Reading of Jonestown in Epinions
Just a few days ago I read a piece that was contributed to the Travel section of Epinions. Jonestown was mentioned. I left a comment suggesting I knew someone who died there. The writer then emailed me a link to the names of the people who died at Jonestown. A day later I went to the link. I scrolled down through the names. There are so, so many of them.
Seeing Harriet Again
I then came to Harriet Tropp. I clicked on the name and suddenly a photograph of her, eleven years older than her yearbook picture, filled the screen. I can't tell you the strange and eerie feeling it gave me to see Harriet again. She wasn't grimacing as I had pictured in my mind or even having a straight faced look as in her yearbook picture. She was smiling. There was another picture too. I clicked on that one and once again she was smiling. It kind of made me feel good to see her smile. That changed a bit later.
I followed the link further down and there was an area titled Remembrances.
There were a few words that said,
"Harriet was my first cousin. Though I am much younger than her I remember her as being brilliant and fun loving. I have never understood how she ended up where she was, but I was not surprised to know she had a leadership role of some sort." - Anonymous
I didn't really know Harriet but I also wondered over and over how "she ended up where she was". My interest was further piqued by the words at the end stating, but I was not surprised to know she had a leadership role of some sort.
A Jonestown Leader?
I then proceeded to gather some information on the internet. I found The Jonestown Institute, http://jonestown.sdsu.edu. that is dedicated to collecting facts and stories without judgement about what happened in Jonestown. This is also where Harriet's smiling picture was featured. I continued on, I wasn't sure where it would take me. I did find out she was truly in a leadership role. Under a listing of Occupation at Jonestown was
Planning Commission; Radio room; public relations (FBI document 89-4286-1207); Teacher (FBI document 89-4286-1552); Administrative Triumvarite, Legal committee
I began to feel disturbed when I read some of the transcripts that are available through the The Jonestown Institute
I read this part of a transcript
The Peoples Temple leadership in Jonestown – including Jim Jones – holds a press conference via a ham radio transmission to San Francisco, where reporters are gathered. Responding to charges made by Concerned Relatives, Harriet Tropp reads a prepared statement that condemns the actions of the Concerned Relatives organization, as well as the media attacks on the church. The statement also extols the Jonestown settlement as a beautiful place, a socialist collective, a place with a solid medical department for seniors, and an opportunity for society's malcontents to start again. Her description of Jonestown concludes that it is "a community for a significant number of people, now over 1000, who have been hurt, angered, alienated and victimized by adverse conditions that prevail in the decaying inner cities of advanced Western societies."
This continued with Tropp rejecting statements saying relatives aren't allowed to visit.
A Commitment To Die
The prepared statement concludes with the criticism of "some statement, supposedly issued officially by Peoples Temple, but whose authorship we here are unaware of, to the effect that we prefer to resist harassment and persecution, even if it means death." Instead of disavowing the anonymous statement, though, she denounces the people who would use it against the community. "Since it is clear that the persons who are actively plotting to destroy our organization have neither integrity nor courage, we are not at all surprised that they would find it offensive." She quotes Patrick Henry and Martin Luther King, who "reaffirmed the validity of ultimate commitment," and concludes: "It is not our purpose to die. We believe deeply in the celebration of life... But under these outrageous attacks, we have decided to defend the integrity of our community and our pledge to do this."
Now this was a prepared text so it may not have been Harriet's true thoughts but I read more later.
This was really the beginning of the end. For those who remember and more for those who don't know, a US Congressman Leo Ryan did go down to Guyana with family members and press. He made a visit and when leaving at a small airport he, along with some of the press people including two NBC reporters and a newspaper photographer, were killed by Jim Jones operatives. With Jim Jones knowing his "People's Temple" days were over the mass suicide followed.
I read more of the transcripts with Harriet Tropp's words. I was truly frightened when I read this
Frightening Words
Harriet Tropp: This is uh— This is Harriet Tropp, and (sighs) I've done a lot of thinking in the past few weeks, and I just thought I should make a few things clear. Number one, I have been a member of Peoples Temple for seven years, and I have seen Jim Jones co— give his life to the ideals of peaceful change within the system to bring about a more just society. I fully have supported everything he has ever done. I believe in him. I believe (stumbles over words) in his sincerity, and I stand committed to what he believes in, his ideals, and his actions. I— I have no um, disagreement with him whatsoever. However, I know that my commitment has always been a more militant one, in the sense that he's always had to convince me not to participate in violent activities or to uh, commit really anti-social acts. And I've been reluctantly convinced, because I could see the pragmaticism of his point of view. However, what was uh— what is sincere for him, what is a sincere belief in pacifism for mir— for him, has always been play-acting for me because I am basically a very violent person, and a person who believes in the disruption of this society, in the overthrow of this government by violent means, and the reinstitution of a completely different economic system, and I believe in bl— I— I believe in killing representatives of this government and of the establishment, the law enforcement. I will do so. And at— The point of time has come into my life where I can no longer maintain myself in a pacifistic organization such as Peoples Temple under the guidance of— of a person like J— Jim Jones who believes in non-violent change. And I have decided that I will in the future uh— work out my political beliefs which are for me, Communist, although Reverend Jones is not a Communist, and (pause) I will do so. I will take my Communist ideology into the streets with violent activity and destroy, kill, maim, or blow up anything and everything that I feel will be a valid way of protesting the system, which includes law enforcement, uh, elec— PG&E (unintelligible word) power stations, things like that, which I have long planned on doing and have plans to do, and have only been thwarted in doing this and prevented from doing this but by Jim Jones' teachings.
Where and when did this girl from my graduating class pick up these ideas and was she telling us that Jim Jones was a good leader because he was controlling those thoughts of hers? I don't know.
A Failed Promise
Most of the people in his camp did follow along with Jim Jones in hopes of joining a society of people who could live together in peace. It didn't turn out to be that promise to all those who went. To some who were disenchanted, wanted to leave, were beaten and stripped of their passports, Jonestown was hell. To those who lived with bare necessities believing in sacrifice and in living in a sort of union with the third world citizens of the world, it was heaven. Whatever the thoughts of those limited to the confines of a jungle with armed guards keeping them in, there wasn't true peace.
So Much More To Know
I have decided I have read and discovered enough for now. I do know I will be going on to do more research in the future. It may seem bizarre but I need to know, "Who was that girl that edited my year book and stood with me when we graduated together?" Was she standing with guns forcing others drink the lethal liquid, was she a true believer in her cause seeing death as the only alternative to the break up of the "temple", or was she simply duped into believing Jim Jones had all the right answers and picked up a glass filled with the poison and started drinking on her own?
I went through my 1967 high school yearbook again the other night. On one full page there is list of names of people who dedicated the page to one simple thought. Harriet Tropp must have contributed and has her name on the page. Above the names listed in two formal rows, there is but one word on the top of the page in large print. It says PEACE. When did that word become an enigma to Harriet Tropp? I also wonder how much peace the families of those who died in Johnstown have now? It's all so sad, so, so sad.
I've decided to move some of those pieces here. The following pertained to the Jonestown Massacre of 1978 when 0ver 900 people drank acenic laced Kool-Aid to their deaths. It was quite a shock and huge news story. As weeks went on a list of the dead was published. A gal I knew in high school was one of the victims...or so I thought. As I learned more of the massacre and those involved in the hierarchy of hte Reverand Jim Jones cult I found out some incredibly disturbing information. Read on.
This is a disturbing story so...
I left high school with a very large graduating class, well over 400. I do reminisce from time to time and go through my copy of the 1967 year book. I do still wonder where some of my class mates are and what they are doing as I look at the black and white photographs and read some of the personal notes scribbled on the pages during those last days of school 4 decades ago.
A Girl I Remember
Aside from one or two people who I am still in contact with there is one name in the book that I have thought of more often than any other. The name in the book is Harriet Tropp. In her picture she is looking out blankly to the left of the camera. There is no smile. Her look is pensive. Above her name it states she was the Editor and Chief of the Yearbook. She was the secretary of the G.A.L.S. and a member of the National Honor Society. Further on in the book she is listed with all those in the Most Popular and Likely to Succeed section. She is listed as Most Creative.
I didn't really know Harriet. She was in high honors classes that I can't even say I wish I was part of at the time. My interest then was sports and a gal who would become my wife of 35 years and still counting. I did see Harriet in the halls and cafeteria. I believe we may have been in a business law class together, but even if so, I never talked with her.
Seeing Her After Eleven Years
Eleven years after graduation I saw her name again. It was in a newspaper. I was caught by surprise, shocked. She was a victim in Guyana, in what became known as the Jonestown Massacre. I don't have the exact figures but I believe more than 500 Americans were part of the over 900 people who died as they followed their leader Jim Jones in a mass suicide. Many went along with his order to drink cyanide laced Kool-Aid. Many gave it to their children first and then drank it themselves. Others died, being shot in the back, trying to get away from the scene of carnage. Some did survive.
I don't remember reading any details about Harriet's death then or over the years. I often did think though of how so many people could be lured by an evil man who promised them a good life only to take all life from them. It always reminded me in some way of the story of satan and Adam and Eve. These followers of Jim Jones weren't truly happy with what they had. They wanted more. More may have been a simpler life but apparently they didn't have their eyes open to what the "People's Temple" really was. They blindly followed a charismatic leader, Jim Jones. Was he a fake and a phony? Years later his own son called him a fraud.
Years have passed. There have been many books printed about Jonestown, the killings and the suicides, I never read any of them. I did however continue to think about Harriet every time I would hear anyone refer to blind followers as Kool-Aid drinkers. Though it may seem strange I also wondered what the scene was like during the havoc of those moments and perhaps hours. Were they happy to be leaving this world, was there fear, were they in pain? I always thought of Harriet's face grimacing as the poison went into and through her body.
Reading of Jonestown in Epinions
Just a few days ago I read a piece that was contributed to the Travel section of Epinions. Jonestown was mentioned. I left a comment suggesting I knew someone who died there. The writer then emailed me a link to the names of the people who died at Jonestown. A day later I went to the link. I scrolled down through the names. There are so, so many of them.
Seeing Harriet Again
I then came to Harriet Tropp. I clicked on the name and suddenly a photograph of her, eleven years older than her yearbook picture, filled the screen. I can't tell you the strange and eerie feeling it gave me to see Harriet again. She wasn't grimacing as I had pictured in my mind or even having a straight faced look as in her yearbook picture. She was smiling. There was another picture too. I clicked on that one and once again she was smiling. It kind of made me feel good to see her smile. That changed a bit later.
I followed the link further down and there was an area titled Remembrances.
There were a few words that said,
"Harriet was my first cousin. Though I am much younger than her I remember her as being brilliant and fun loving. I have never understood how she ended up where she was, but I was not surprised to know she had a leadership role of some sort." - Anonymous
I didn't really know Harriet but I also wondered over and over how "she ended up where she was". My interest was further piqued by the words at the end stating, but I was not surprised to know she had a leadership role of some sort.
A Jonestown Leader?
I then proceeded to gather some information on the internet. I found The Jonestown Institute, http://jonestown.sdsu.edu. that is dedicated to collecting facts and stories without judgement about what happened in Jonestown. This is also where Harriet's smiling picture was featured. I continued on, I wasn't sure where it would take me. I did find out she was truly in a leadership role. Under a listing of Occupation at Jonestown was
Planning Commission; Radio room; public relations (FBI document 89-4286-1207); Teacher (FBI document 89-4286-1552); Administrative Triumvarite, Legal committee
I began to feel disturbed when I read some of the transcripts that are available through the The Jonestown Institute
I read this part of a transcript
The Peoples Temple leadership in Jonestown – including Jim Jones – holds a press conference via a ham radio transmission to San Francisco, where reporters are gathered. Responding to charges made by Concerned Relatives, Harriet Tropp reads a prepared statement that condemns the actions of the Concerned Relatives organization, as well as the media attacks on the church. The statement also extols the Jonestown settlement as a beautiful place, a socialist collective, a place with a solid medical department for seniors, and an opportunity for society's malcontents to start again. Her description of Jonestown concludes that it is "a community for a significant number of people, now over 1000, who have been hurt, angered, alienated and victimized by adverse conditions that prevail in the decaying inner cities of advanced Western societies."
This continued with Tropp rejecting statements saying relatives aren't allowed to visit.
A Commitment To Die
The prepared statement concludes with the criticism of "some statement, supposedly issued officially by Peoples Temple, but whose authorship we here are unaware of, to the effect that we prefer to resist harassment and persecution, even if it means death." Instead of disavowing the anonymous statement, though, she denounces the people who would use it against the community. "Since it is clear that the persons who are actively plotting to destroy our organization have neither integrity nor courage, we are not at all surprised that they would find it offensive." She quotes Patrick Henry and Martin Luther King, who "reaffirmed the validity of ultimate commitment," and concludes: "It is not our purpose to die. We believe deeply in the celebration of life... But under these outrageous attacks, we have decided to defend the integrity of our community and our pledge to do this."
Now this was a prepared text so it may not have been Harriet's true thoughts but I read more later.
This was really the beginning of the end. For those who remember and more for those who don't know, a US Congressman Leo Ryan did go down to Guyana with family members and press. He made a visit and when leaving at a small airport he, along with some of the press people including two NBC reporters and a newspaper photographer, were killed by Jim Jones operatives. With Jim Jones knowing his "People's Temple" days were over the mass suicide followed.
I read more of the transcripts with Harriet Tropp's words. I was truly frightened when I read this
Frightening Words
Harriet Tropp: This is uh— This is Harriet Tropp, and (sighs) I've done a lot of thinking in the past few weeks, and I just thought I should make a few things clear. Number one, I have been a member of Peoples Temple for seven years, and I have seen Jim Jones co— give his life to the ideals of peaceful change within the system to bring about a more just society. I fully have supported everything he has ever done. I believe in him. I believe (stumbles over words) in his sincerity, and I stand committed to what he believes in, his ideals, and his actions. I— I have no um, disagreement with him whatsoever. However, I know that my commitment has always been a more militant one, in the sense that he's always had to convince me not to participate in violent activities or to uh, commit really anti-social acts. And I've been reluctantly convinced, because I could see the pragmaticism of his point of view. However, what was uh— what is sincere for him, what is a sincere belief in pacifism for mir— for him, has always been play-acting for me because I am basically a very violent person, and a person who believes in the disruption of this society, in the overthrow of this government by violent means, and the reinstitution of a completely different economic system, and I believe in bl— I— I believe in killing representatives of this government and of the establishment, the law enforcement. I will do so. And at— The point of time has come into my life where I can no longer maintain myself in a pacifistic organization such as Peoples Temple under the guidance of— of a person like J— Jim Jones who believes in non-violent change. And I have decided that I will in the future uh— work out my political beliefs which are for me, Communist, although Reverend Jones is not a Communist, and (pause) I will do so. I will take my Communist ideology into the streets with violent activity and destroy, kill, maim, or blow up anything and everything that I feel will be a valid way of protesting the system, which includes law enforcement, uh, elec— PG&E (unintelligible word) power stations, things like that, which I have long planned on doing and have plans to do, and have only been thwarted in doing this and prevented from doing this but by Jim Jones' teachings.
Where and when did this girl from my graduating class pick up these ideas and was she telling us that Jim Jones was a good leader because he was controlling those thoughts of hers? I don't know.
A Failed Promise
Most of the people in his camp did follow along with Jim Jones in hopes of joining a society of people who could live together in peace. It didn't turn out to be that promise to all those who went. To some who were disenchanted, wanted to leave, were beaten and stripped of their passports, Jonestown was hell. To those who lived with bare necessities believing in sacrifice and in living in a sort of union with the third world citizens of the world, it was heaven. Whatever the thoughts of those limited to the confines of a jungle with armed guards keeping them in, there wasn't true peace.
So Much More To Know
I have decided I have read and discovered enough for now. I do know I will be going on to do more research in the future. It may seem bizarre but I need to know, "Who was that girl that edited my year book and stood with me when we graduated together?" Was she standing with guns forcing others drink the lethal liquid, was she a true believer in her cause seeing death as the only alternative to the break up of the "temple", or was she simply duped into believing Jim Jones had all the right answers and picked up a glass filled with the poison and started drinking on her own?
I went through my 1967 high school yearbook again the other night. On one full page there is list of names of people who dedicated the page to one simple thought. Harriet Tropp must have contributed and has her name on the page. Above the names listed in two formal rows, there is but one word on the top of the page in large print. It says PEACE. When did that word become an enigma to Harriet Tropp? I also wonder how much peace the families of those who died in Johnstown have now? It's all so sad, so, so sad.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Bye Bye Barbados, Sante Fe, here we come!
Because we just came back from Barbados a few weeks ago 
Carolyn and I are traveling to inland Sante Fe, New Mexico at the end of June. This is our second time to New Mexico but first to Sate Fe and south. Last time was just a day in the north passing through. This time we are spending a little over a week. Anyone have any thoughts, ideas, or helpful hints they could send our way?
Just a heads up about Barbados. JetBlue started flying there last year and has great rates. We took advantage of the offers and had an exciting trip last month.
Here's my review titled, Learning to Love Barbados, One Sunny Day At A Time
http://www1.epinions.com/review/trvl-Dest-Caribbean-Barbados/content_505168825988
Carolyn and I are traveling to inland Sante Fe, New Mexico at the end of June. This is our second time to New Mexico but first to Sate Fe and south. Last time was just a day in the north passing through. This time we are spending a little over a week. Anyone have any thoughts, ideas, or helpful hints they could send our way?Just a heads up about Barbados. JetBlue started flying there last year and has great rates. We took advantage of the offers and had an exciting trip last month.
Here's my review titled, Learning to Love Barbados, One Sunny Day At A Time
http://www1.epinions.com/review/trvl-Dest-Caribbean-Barbados/content_505168825988
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Ol' pops has decided to start writing a series of pieces cataloging the memories that have been created in the home he and his wife purchased in 1974.
A bit of background from ol' pops.
We were married at age 21. Two years later we moved into our home. That was 34 years ago. (Now 36 years ago) We purchased what we thought was a large home with a kitchen, formal dining room, large living room, four bedrooms, two baths, a basement and an attic on a quarter acre plot of land on Long Island's south shore. After having five children we added another two bedrooms and a large family room with a fire place.
Our home, even with all the additions, has every corner and closet stuffed and overloaded with fond memories.
What I write of those memories now and hopefully in the future may not be in any particular order nor am I saving the best or most important for last. In fact, I hope and pray that fond memories continue to grow in every nook and cranny of our home.
As an old memory rekindles itself or a special moment sees first light soon becoming tomorrow's memory, I hope to add to my catalog.
Today I start with neighbors Linda and Gil who always had a better view of our home than we did...
They lived across the street.
Sharing Windows
I can't say that I go out of my way to build relationships but over the years we were friendly enough with a few people, who lived next door, to say hello and chat a bit over the fence. Those people came and went like the seasons but most were never to be seen again.
There was one couple, however, that lived across the street from us. In today's world, living next to or across the street from someone doesn't really make people neighbors, positive contact does...
...and so it was with Linda and Gil who were a couple-a- few years older than us, yet our contemporaries. Over a period of 30 years or so my wife and I never went to a ball-game with them , nor did we do any of the arts in the city together. We never even went out to dinner as couples. What we did instead was open and share a window into each other's lives.
New Life From God
The first thing I remember sharing was the love of gardening. I recall many conversations on our front lawns talking about plantings, flowers and vegetable gardens. They invited us over to see their gardens. My wife and I learned a bit from them and in years to come, invited them over to see ours too.
This continued every season and, in fact, we all saw to it that each other's gardens were cared for when either family went on vacation. I enjoyed watering their plants, seeing them grow, and I was pleased all would be in good shape upon our neighbor's return.
All four of us were proud of what God allowed us to do in our gardens with the tools and gifts He gave us. It was also good to have neighbors who like us believed in God and were not afraid or reluctant to share that belief.
We are Roman Catholic, they Lutheran. Over the years we, at times, talked of the differences in our religions but much more important than that, we shared our common beliefs and values.
"The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From Tree"
Linda and Gil also love music and the arts. Gil, a musician, played with a US Navy Band in ports all over the world. He later moved on to be a music educator for some 30 years as he provided for his family. Linda was a mom first and also a librarian. This couple's love for music and the written word, that opens the world to all, flowed from them and into the lives of their offspring.
Their two children, a girl and a boy were young when we moved in. We watched them as they went through school and were growing up. I could see and hear the young girl in her early years practicing for hours on the piano through the large plate-glass window in the front of their home. Though Linda and Gill never made a big deal of it I could see the pride they had for their daughter's talents who went on to NYC's prestigious Juilliard School of Music. She has grown up to marry a fine young man and raise a family. Besides their children, their lives are centered around music. They both play piano and organ professionally.
Their son was always a good kid who I would see playing basketball at the hoop attached to their garage. He, I believe, took a bit of both of his parents into his life. When on vacation their family would go to a private and quiet peninsula on Maine's rugged coast. They would read all kinds of books for weeks on end. This young man now travels the world like his dad once did, but not in a band or the service. This lad seems to be on his own private quest to seek adventure, learn about the world and its people and experience all else it offers. Perhaps he picked up this yearning from all the books he read with his family during those Maine coast summers.
Maine: What's Not To Like?
That was something else we shared, the love of Maine. My wife and I fell in love with Acadia National Park/Bar Harbor, Maine area on the coast and enjoyed spending time there in August with our family. Gil and Linda summered fifty miles or so further up the Maine coast arriving soon after school let out, staying most of July. Those are the times when each of us cared for the other's home and gardens. One year however, we did overlap our vacation a bit and we were fortunate to share one day at their little piece of heaven on the incredibly-beautiful, Maine coast. I recall them returning another year and presenting us with a book of Acadia National Park. I still treasure it.
Safe and Sound
One early morning, when I was already off to work, I received a phone call from my wife. Our home was on fire. My first question was answered immediately. Everyone was safe and out of the house. She then told me she was across the street at Linda and Gil's and could see the flames as the fire department chopped holes in our roof and eventually doused the flames. I was ready to start driving home in a panic when I realised my family was with Gil and Linda and they were all safe. There was nothing I could do by racing home and all my families immediate needs would be taken care of by our good neighbors. Even though our home was on fire, I was at peace.
Our time as neighbors continued on. We would share meals with each other in our homes on occasion, perhaps once or twice a year. We spent hours eating, drinking wine or beer and enjoying good conversation. They were special times.
Our five children were a bit younger than theirs and spread out over many years. A yearly custom was for our kids to knock on Linda and Gil's door on Halloween and ask "Trick or treat?" I believe they enjoyed seeing our children as much as our children did them, in their eagerness to gather more treats for the day.
I fondly recall the year my oldest son was married. He and his wife decided on a wedding reception in our back yard. We had a huge tent set up, had flowers all arranged and we were blessed with a gorgeous summer day. Two things I distinctly remember that day. The first was my son and his new wife, while in tux and gown, just getting home from the church, stopping an ice cream truck in front of our home. The truck always stopped on Linda and Gil's side of the street. I'll never forget the joy and glee in my heart as I once again saw my son being a kid with an ice cream in his hand, only now he was a man.
I also recall Linda and Gil simply walking out the front door of their home, take a few short steps across the street, step into our back yard that they helped keep whole many-a-summer and share in one of the best days of my life. That was a blessed day indeed!
An Era Ends...
Unfortunately time moves on and so did Linda and Gil. He retired and after some years they found another home to live, actually two, a place near their children in the city and a small home out east on Long Island.
...and a New One Begins
Just yesterday we saw each other again. We were invited out to their home for lunch. Afterward we took a very short ride to their nearby beach, sunned and talked, and returned back to their home for dinner.
It was a perfect day as we shared photographs, talked of our children and travel and discussed some of the "old days" in our neighborhood.
Finally, hours after the sun drifted below the bluffs of Long Island's north shore, it was time to say goodbye.
Somehow as we were ready to depart it was said that it was always good to be neighbors. My wife, in a split second, of what I perceived as a childlike reaction of honesty and innocents, stated with profound pointedness, "You were the only neighbors we ever had."
How true!
As I listened to and absorbed those words that exuded both affection for our neighbors and perhaps a touch of melancholy, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I turned and walked toward the door and continued on, saying, "I would like to get together again, but sooner."
If it was God's plan for us to have only one set of neighbors in our lifetime, He blessed us well with Linda and Gil.
End
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
http://www.epinions.com/content_5080064132">Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #2
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #3
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #4
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #5
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A bit of background from ol' pops.
We were married at age 21. Two years later we moved into our home. That was 34 years ago. (Now 36 years ago) We purchased what we thought was a large home with a kitchen, formal dining room, large living room, four bedrooms, two baths, a basement and an attic on a quarter acre plot of land on Long Island's south shore. After having five children we added another two bedrooms and a large family room with a fire place.
Our home, even with all the additions, has every corner and closet stuffed and overloaded with fond memories.
What I write of those memories now and hopefully in the future may not be in any particular order nor am I saving the best or most important for last. In fact, I hope and pray that fond memories continue to grow in every nook and cranny of our home.
As an old memory rekindles itself or a special moment sees first light soon becoming tomorrow's memory, I hope to add to my catalog.
Today I start with neighbors Linda and Gil who always had a better view of our home than we did...
They lived across the street.
Sharing Windows
I can't say that I go out of my way to build relationships but over the years we were friendly enough with a few people, who lived next door, to say hello and chat a bit over the fence. Those people came and went like the seasons but most were never to be seen again.
There was one couple, however, that lived across the street from us. In today's world, living next to or across the street from someone doesn't really make people neighbors, positive contact does...
...and so it was with Linda and Gil who were a couple-a- few years older than us, yet our contemporaries. Over a period of 30 years or so my wife and I never went to a ball-game with them , nor did we do any of the arts in the city together. We never even went out to dinner as couples. What we did instead was open and share a window into each other's lives.
New Life From God
The first thing I remember sharing was the love of gardening. I recall many conversations on our front lawns talking about plantings, flowers and vegetable gardens. They invited us over to see their gardens. My wife and I learned a bit from them and in years to come, invited them over to see ours too.
This continued every season and, in fact, we all saw to it that each other's gardens were cared for when either family went on vacation. I enjoyed watering their plants, seeing them grow, and I was pleased all would be in good shape upon our neighbor's return.
All four of us were proud of what God allowed us to do in our gardens with the tools and gifts He gave us. It was also good to have neighbors who like us believed in God and were not afraid or reluctant to share that belief.
We are Roman Catholic, they Lutheran. Over the years we, at times, talked of the differences in our religions but much more important than that, we shared our common beliefs and values.
"The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From Tree"
Linda and Gil also love music and the arts. Gil, a musician, played with a US Navy Band in ports all over the world. He later moved on to be a music educator for some 30 years as he provided for his family. Linda was a mom first and also a librarian. This couple's love for music and the written word, that opens the world to all, flowed from them and into the lives of their offspring.
Their two children, a girl and a boy were young when we moved in. We watched them as they went through school and were growing up. I could see and hear the young girl in her early years practicing for hours on the piano through the large plate-glass window in the front of their home. Though Linda and Gill never made a big deal of it I could see the pride they had for their daughter's talents who went on to NYC's prestigious Juilliard School of Music. She has grown up to marry a fine young man and raise a family. Besides their children, their lives are centered around music. They both play piano and organ professionally.
Their son was always a good kid who I would see playing basketball at the hoop attached to their garage. He, I believe, took a bit of both of his parents into his life. When on vacation their family would go to a private and quiet peninsula on Maine's rugged coast. They would read all kinds of books for weeks on end. This young man now travels the world like his dad once did, but not in a band or the service. This lad seems to be on his own private quest to seek adventure, learn about the world and its people and experience all else it offers. Perhaps he picked up this yearning from all the books he read with his family during those Maine coast summers.
Maine: What's Not To Like?
That was something else we shared, the love of Maine. My wife and I fell in love with Acadia National Park/Bar Harbor, Maine area on the coast and enjoyed spending time there in August with our family. Gil and Linda summered fifty miles or so further up the Maine coast arriving soon after school let out, staying most of July. Those are the times when each of us cared for the other's home and gardens. One year however, we did overlap our vacation a bit and we were fortunate to share one day at their little piece of heaven on the incredibly-beautiful, Maine coast. I recall them returning another year and presenting us with a book of Acadia National Park. I still treasure it.
Safe and Sound
One early morning, when I was already off to work, I received a phone call from my wife. Our home was on fire. My first question was answered immediately. Everyone was safe and out of the house. She then told me she was across the street at Linda and Gil's and could see the flames as the fire department chopped holes in our roof and eventually doused the flames. I was ready to start driving home in a panic when I realised my family was with Gil and Linda and they were all safe. There was nothing I could do by racing home and all my families immediate needs would be taken care of by our good neighbors. Even though our home was on fire, I was at peace.
Our time as neighbors continued on. We would share meals with each other in our homes on occasion, perhaps once or twice a year. We spent hours eating, drinking wine or beer and enjoying good conversation. They were special times.
Our five children were a bit younger than theirs and spread out over many years. A yearly custom was for our kids to knock on Linda and Gil's door on Halloween and ask "Trick or treat?" I believe they enjoyed seeing our children as much as our children did them, in their eagerness to gather more treats for the day.
I fondly recall the year my oldest son was married. He and his wife decided on a wedding reception in our back yard. We had a huge tent set up, had flowers all arranged and we were blessed with a gorgeous summer day. Two things I distinctly remember that day. The first was my son and his new wife, while in tux and gown, just getting home from the church, stopping an ice cream truck in front of our home. The truck always stopped on Linda and Gil's side of the street. I'll never forget the joy and glee in my heart as I once again saw my son being a kid with an ice cream in his hand, only now he was a man.
I also recall Linda and Gil simply walking out the front door of their home, take a few short steps across the street, step into our back yard that they helped keep whole many-a-summer and share in one of the best days of my life. That was a blessed day indeed!
An Era Ends...
Unfortunately time moves on and so did Linda and Gil. He retired and after some years they found another home to live, actually two, a place near their children in the city and a small home out east on Long Island.
...and a New One Begins
Just yesterday we saw each other again. We were invited out to their home for lunch. Afterward we took a very short ride to their nearby beach, sunned and talked, and returned back to their home for dinner.
It was a perfect day as we shared photographs, talked of our children and travel and discussed some of the "old days" in our neighborhood.
Finally, hours after the sun drifted below the bluffs of Long Island's north shore, it was time to say goodbye.
Somehow as we were ready to depart it was said that it was always good to be neighbors. My wife, in a split second, of what I perceived as a childlike reaction of honesty and innocents, stated with profound pointedness, "You were the only neighbors we ever had."
How true!
As I listened to and absorbed those words that exuded both affection for our neighbors and perhaps a touch of melancholy, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I turned and walked toward the door and continued on, saying, "I would like to get together again, but sooner."
If it was God's plan for us to have only one set of neighbors in our lifetime, He blessed us well with Linda and Gil.
End
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
http://www.epinions.com/content_5080064132">Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #1
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Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #11
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #12
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Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #14
Pops Home: Filled With Treasured Memories #15
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About Me
- popsrocks
- I'm a 60ish fellow that loves life with his wife, children and grandchildren. My wife and I now travel as often as we can. The Caribbean is our favorite destination whether exploring an island for a couple of weeks or making stops here and there via cruise ships. At our age we have decided that looking for the perfect place to snorkel is our #1 goal in life. I've posted many travel reviews on the Internet that I hope to share them here on my blog.