The Journey

 At my uncle's funeral several weeks ago, the pastor (noting we were a Missouri Pacific Railroad family) told  a story that I really liked:

As Susan climbed into the train, she noticed her car was totally empty---she could sit anywhere.  She couldn't decide if she wanted in the sun or in the shade, in the front, middle or back.  She tried several seats before the conductor told her to take a seat. She decided in middle on the sunny side.  

At the train was pulling away, Susan realized the seat was so low she couldn't see outside.  So, she looked around and found several pillows to sit on---no, too high---she couldn't see past the shade now.  So, she finally had the seat at the right height but her feet didn't touch the ground.  She pulled out the foot rest and just got comfortable to see all of the beautiful scenery out the train window, when she had to go to the bathroom.  She finally got settled back into her seat to enjoy the view, when she decided she was hungry.  She looked in her bag, couldn't find anything and decided to search out the snack bar.  She sat in her seat, got comfortable with a candy bar when the conductor came by and told her they had reached the station that was her destination.

As she was climbing down the steps into the station, she said to the conductor, "If I'd know the trip was so short, I wouldn't have bothered with all of the small stuff---I missed the beauty of the journey."

Jeremiah 29:11New International Version (NIV)

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

A letter home about the Oktoberfest 1966

It turns out our memories were incredibly accurate for so long ago---maybe out of order but still accurate.

Sept. 26, 1966

Dear Family,

I had to write you about the Oktoberfest while it was fresh in my mind! It was one of those things I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.  After I left Löwenbrau beer tent, Carol and I went walking around the Fairgrounds.  We went in what we thought was a spook house and were disappointed it was just dark corridors!  When we finally saw light, there were about 200 people sitting in a tent watching us.  I couldn't figure out why they were all watching but I found out soon enough when my skirt, coat and slip went flying up.  Everyone went into gales of laughter and I was so stunned I just stood there in my yellow panties in utter shock.  This guy finally pushed me off the air outlet and I joined the spectators.  I must admit it was pretty funny----especially when the girls with the real full  skirts couldn't even see where they were going because their skirts were over their heads!

After about 15 minutes, Carol and I went on the Ferris Wheel, Dodg'ems, Merry-go-round and etc.  It was great fun until they started closing.  I looked at my watch and it was only 12:30 AM.  Carol and I didn't know what in the heck we were going to do do.  So, we decided to take a train to Augsburg and find a hotel room.

We got to the train station to discover that our suitcase was locked up in the check room.  So, we decided to go to the waiting room to spend the night.  We spotted some American Service men, sat next to them (three other men had tried to pick us up and we decided it might be better if we ran into some of our own countrymen) We started talking to them and found out they didn't have a place to stay either  and couldn't even speak German!  Just then a porter came up and informed us the station was going to close and we would have to leave!  I couldn't believe it ---what were we to do? I asked the porter what we could do or where we could go. He told us of a restaurant next to the train station that would be open.

So, Carol, Jim, Bob and I went to the restaurant.  We drank 6  cups of coffee and two cups of tea until it was time for the restaurant to close.  It was about 4 AM, so we decided to just stroll around the station.  All of the doors were locked excepting one---but it had a chain across it with a sign reading "Do not enter--station closed" I looked at the guys and Carol and said, "I can't read German, can you?"  They all said no and we casually stepped over the chain.

We got in the station and there were about 200 other people who couldn't read German either!  These 200 were stretched out on benches, propped up against the walls, in doorways, in telephone booths and sitting on steps.  There were even 4 who had brought cots and were snoozing away!  We found a few vacant steps and sat down.  Strangely enough we sat down next to 2 other Americans.  The girl was from Denver and was touring with 2 other girls.  Unfortunately she had gotten separated from them at the Oktoberfest and didn't know where their hotel was.  She had had the same problems Carol and I had before we latched on to Jim and Bob.  So she found herself an American serviceman---Bill from NY (Jim was from Louisiana and Bob Concord Mass).  So all six of us talked for awhile and then snoozed some until day break.  

I say we snoozed some because there was a man next to us all stretched out and snoring so loud that it's a miracle anyone could sleep in the train station! We contemplated putting our coats over his head but we were afraid he would smother to death and then we would have a murder on our hands on top of everything else. 

At 6:30 AM, we bid adieu to everyone, got our suit case and took the train back to Memmingen.  Jim took Carol's and my picture.  He and Bob promised to write. I don't know if they will!  It was all great fun!  Carol and I didn't know what to do when those men tried to pick us up.  So, I thought, "What would Mother do in the same situation?" Then it all came to me---find a serviceman!  And, it paid off pretty good!

Memories of Oktoberfest 1966

Me, Carol and ??? 1966-67 Germany

Surely going to The Oktoberfest in Munich is on everyone’s bucket list——I know it was on mine. But still, I was shocked at how many people from all over the world were there.  I had lived in Germany maybe a month and my high school friend, Carol had just arrived for her year in Germany.  So, of course, we decided to go to Munich for the Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest was far more than just beer and enormous tents with oompa music—it was a carnival with lots of rides, attractions and bright lights.  We were more entertained by the sights than by the beer but, of course, we had to give one or two of the tents a try.  I marveled at how many huge mugs of beer the be-dirndled waitresses carried. 

We were surprised when the whole place shut down at 11 PM, and we became part of a flood of thousands of party goers leaving the fair grounds.  Carol and I were technically college students 21 and 20 living abroad for a year.  We had had a great time but the mob leaving the grounds was a little scary.  I’d never seen so many drunk people in my life.  Carol and I managed to stick together at a time when there were no cell phones if we’d been separated.

Our “plan” after the Oktoberfest was to go to the Bahnhof (train station) get a train home to Memmingen or at least a train some place where we could get a room. 20somethings don’t always make the best back up plans. With thousands of party-goers milling around  the Bahnhof, we discovered that the last train for Memmingen had already left and there wouldn’t be another until the next morning.  For that matter, there were no trains leaving and we were stranded with hundreds or thousands of Oktoberfest refugees.  We decided to just hunker down like others were doing.  So, finding a spot on the bench, we tried to sleep until the guards came through and told everyone they had to leave because the Bahnhof was closing.

So we were on the streets of Munich without a place to stay.  We simply walked around outside until someone found a “back door”  into the train station.  So, we sneaked back in with about a hundred of our closest friends.  The station had minimal lighting and we found a spot on the steps to catch some sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, we were awakened by the rolling buckets of the cleaning crew.  These beefy women with their mops and brooms were scarier than the guards had been. They shooed us off the steps and out the door.  They were not to be argued with.  So, back out on the streets of Munich, we were beginning to get hungry.  This was NOT New York City which never sleeps—Munich was sleeping off a grand week of partying with no open shops or cafes.  We did finally find a place for coffee and a roll before we headed back to the Bahnhof and  a leisurely train ride back home.

From my friend Carol:  “Believe it or not, I found my journal from my stay in Germany that school year, but the details about Munich are sketchy.  I do know one thing...we didn't meet up in Munich.  I had already been in Memmingen , and we took the train to Munich on Saturday.  What I remember is that we had checked our luggage in the luggage room which was closed when we got back to the Bahnhof.  I don't know if the last train had left or not, but it didn't matter because we couldn't get our luggage.  I also don't remember being chased out of the station...all I have written is that we spent the night in the Bahnhof in the company of some American Air Force guys. “

I also wrote that we left Munich at 7:33 a.m. and got back to Memmingen at 9:00, after which we slept until noon and lunch at the Mädchenwohnheim, after which we napped again.  Somehow I got on the wrong train (really??) and had to transfer twice to get  to Stuttgart. 

I didn’t really keep much of a journal, but I did write letters home which my mother saved.  So, whose memories are correct and are there some memories we both have forgotten?  I found the letter. .. . .it’s very interesting.

Happy 51st Anniversary

 

I'd hoped at one time to have a 50th Anniversary party with our children, our siblings and a few cousins, but covid came and I was happy we could celebrate with our children and grandchildren (click here).  But, I missed celebrating with siblings.  We had a small family reunion this year with my siblings and our family at the Doubletree in Chesterfield. 

That's been our "go-to" hotel for many years because they have a full health club attached with indoor and outdoor pools and tennis courts.  They also have a small gym for basketball.  With 8 active grandchildren, it's been a wonderful place for the kids to work off some energy at our winter family gatherings.

We swam, played tennis, played games and some even went to the outlets shopping.  Mostly we just hung out and had a great time.  Kansas City, Minneapolis, Rhode Island, Ballwin and Union all came together for a Western Dinner on Saturday night.

We also managed to get some grandchildren photos in front of our house despite several clowning around!

Birth order and ages:  Brett 20, Davis 18, Roman 16, Libby 15, Eli almost 15, Anna 12, Sam 9 and Silas 7.

Stature, Nutrition and Horse racing

 I have always been "on the small side"--I am flanked by my Long cousins Bob and Steve---the three of us were born within 6 weeks of one another.  While many kids had wooden blocks on the bike pedals, I'm one of the few who had wooden blocks on the brake pedal in my first car.

When I reached my adult height of 5' 1.5", I looked around and decided I'd been "cheated".  I was smaller than both of my parents AND all of my grandparents.  Wasn't nutrition supposed to give me a boost?  I was determined to "show the world" that my height didn't matter.

 I tried out for every athletic team in high school, but only made the basketball team.  I think the coach thought I'd be annoying to the "forwards"  waving my arms, dancing and jumping around using distraction as my main weapon like a demented mosquito.  That was all for naught when we played Wellston high school: I thought those forwards were going to swat me right off the basketball court.  

But, I still puzzled why was I so short, but  saddled with the family name of "Long". God does have a sense of humor. I did not look at my dad's side of the family who bore the name "Long" but Mom's with the photo of my grandmother with her mother.  My grandmother was about 5'4" but her mother was below 5' and wore children's shoes. So, I always looked to Mattie as the reason I was so short. We have no photos of my great-grandfather G. W. Watson, but I assumed he was of normal height since Grandma was.

My great grandfather, G. W.,  died when Grandma was very young---he was killed by a horse.  Oddly my mother's other grandfather was also killed by a horse before my grandfather was born.  Mother reasoned that they were probably racing horses like teen agers race cars today.  

Being a genealogist, I searched Newspapers.com for articles about each of my great grandfathers  to find out more about their deaths (both before death certificates in Missouri).  I still haven't found anything about their deaths but I did find something very interesting.  There was a G. W. Watson racing horses from New Orleans to St. Louis.  I have no proof that this is my great grandfather other than the name, a connection to horses, in the Mississippi River valley and there is no record of him after 1909 (my great grandfather died before 1910).  The article pictured was about the Delmar race track in St. Louis.  Note how much he weighed--105 pounds.

I am going to assume that G. W. was a very small man.  While still puzzling over my grandmother being "normal" sized, I have begun reading the historical novel HORSE by Geraldine Brooks. In the book, the former slave, Harry, recalls how he achieved his small stature by having his growth stunted by his owner so he could be a jockey.  As a child if he gained weight, he was only fed one turnip and a pint of milk. . . .

Dollie Cates and Vennie Watson

Both Mattie and G. W. grew up in very poor families who lived in Tennessee and Arkansas.  She was a servant for another family at 12 years old.  He was also "farmed out" as a young teen. Undoubtedly they both had stunted growth.  When G. W. died, Mattie went to live with the Cates family as the house keeper.  Grandma grew up within that family and is even pictured with Dollie.  I think Grandma's height is thanks to the good nutrition provided by the Cates family. (click here for more about the Cates family and us)

So, why am I so "below average" in height?  Looking at photos of Mattie's distant cousins, they were all small.  So Mattie's genes made me naturally small, but nutrition and exercise have helped me attain and  maintain my height.  Like my great grandfather who used his small stature to become a jockey, I turned away from basketball and competed in gymnastics where being small was an advantage.

 G. W. being a jockey also explains why my grandparents went to Fairmount Park every weekend the horses were racing.  Horse racing was in their blood.  And, me?  One of my favorite memories of visiting Dave's parents in Arcadia, California was going to the morning workouts at Santa Anita to watch the horses and jockeys "warming up" before the races.  I may not ride, have never owned a horse, but somewhere in my ancestral past is a love of horse racing.

Mental Illness or Neurological

 When I think about it, one book probably influenced my perception of mental illness and especially schizophrenia (is the ability to hear voices a curse or a gift) That is Oliver Sachs' book The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat.  

The book describes neurological "problems" that Sachs has encountered but often he finds "the cure" is worse than the illness.  And it also got me thinking, how much of mental illness is neurological? Should we seek cures or is treatment enough?  At what point do we seek treatment? I think I began accepting mental illness as a condition like diabetes or arthritis after reading this book.  As with other neurologically diverse people, do we treat them, confine them just because they are different or do we wait until they can no longer function safely in society?

Will we evolve to be more accepting as many are now with people with Down's syndrome, trans/gay and with autism?

My fear with the conservative view that gun violence is the result of mental illness, is that we will go backwards and start committing people who are "different" to a life time of confinement.

Covid 2022

 After getting Covid 19 in January despite limiting our exposure to others and wearing a mask, I have been

firm about people wearing a mask in my house. Dave had had a home health nurse coming to check his vitals and his skin tears.  She wore a mask, and we wore KN95 masks.  I sat in another room while she attended to Dave but opening the door for her coming and going was enough to give me Covid 19. I had been vaccinated and boosted (3 months earlier), celebrated Christmas without family, wore a mask and still got it.  Thankfully I wasn't terribly sick and could still help Dave.

I've gone for a year cleaning my own house because I haven't been able to find anyone who would wear a mask while cleaning.  When Dave's grab bar in the bathroom was pulled out of the wall, I had to find a handyman who could install it---a handyman who would wear a mask. . . . I finally found one, but had to listen to his covid denial.

He told me about his mother who was in pain and couldn't get a knee replacement because of covid limiting surgery. I said nothing. He told me about his father-in-law who was in the hospital with covid, died of a heart attack, and they put that he died of covid on his death certificate. Therefore all of the covid deaths were lies---people were dying of other things not covid. I said nothing.

He told me that he was super healthy, never wore a mask and hadn't got covid. .. .but, then, he told me something that I felt I needed to respond to.  He had a very strong immune system. . ...I looked him in the eye and said, "I had a very strong immune system and never got sick until it got out of control.  I have auto-immune disease: Reynaud's Syndrome, Sjögren's Sydrome, Alopecia areata AND auto-immune hepatitis---my immune system is so strong it is rejecting my liver.  In order to live, I must take medicine which weakens my immune system.  Be very careful."  He looked at me with shock in his eyes. He left a little shaken, I think.

I don't always have a chance to respond to negative looks at me wearing a mask in public. I've thought about making "calling cards" saying "I've been wearing a mask in public since 2016".  After an hour long consultation with an infectious disease specialist, we developed a strategy to "cope" with my medically induced condition.  The difference between 2016 and 2022  is cold and flu had a season and I had some "normal" from April to November. "Normal" was still wearing a a mask in elevators, waiting rooms, and church but being able to take it off once I could determine it was a "safe" place with no one coughing or sniffling.   

During cold and flu season, I stayed home and isolated only shopping at 5 AM or on-line.  Covid, though, hasn't developed a "season" so I have to be cautious year around, now.  I'm still not eating in restaurants, going to church or going maskless in public, but thanks to quality masks and the vaccine, I am able to see family, friends, go to medical facilities without too much anxiety. I don't pray for a cure. . . .I just pray for a season.

Carpe Diem

 Reading the comments of a friend's Facebook post about taking her family to Hawaii,  there appear to be  two types of responses:  "making memories" and "have fun".  For quite awhile I've been inexplicably annoyed by "making memories" responses and, in turn, annoyed by my reaction.  Why does that rub me the wrong way? I think it goes back to one event.. . . .

I was once a bridesmaid in a wedding in which the photographer ran the show. She was at the rehearsal giving us instructions on how to stand, how to hold our bouquets during the ceremony to have the best photos. The wedding didn't start until she nodded.  The reception, in the bride's large Webster home, was totally over-shadowed by the photographer.  We couldn't mix and mingle, but had to pose for hundreds of photos.  Food ready to eat?  Well, she wasn't done photographing.  The priority was "making memories" rather than enjoying the event.

My daughters are always criticizing my photos because I don't warn people that I'm taking them.  I want to capture the spontaneity, the pleasure of the event not focus on the photo.  I don't want to distract people from what they're doing by having them pose for a photo.  

Although I have often regretted not having good photos of our holidays in the 1950s with cousins running around, I still have the warm memories even without the photos.  Sadly,  the photos we have are grainy, blurry and now faded over time.  I think I come from a long line of "live for the moment" people who were so excited to be together that they couldn't hold the camera steady.

I've heard people say, "if it's not on Instagram, it didn't happen" and I know they are being funny, but that feeds the idea that we have to "make the memories".  

So, here I am on a blog which certainly has memories which I have documented---the purpose of the events were not to make memories so I have something to document but to simply document the events.  There are those in our family who object to any photos taken and I think it's because of this "making memories" attitude which they are totally reacting against it.

I am a historian, genealogist.  You'd think I'd be Team Making Memories.  But I'm not.  

I've always felt that there is too much emphasis on the wedding with not enough on the marriage.  Focus is often on the bride and not the couple.  I even have a theory that the success of the marriage correlates to the amount of money spent on the wedding because the focus is  putting on (and documenting) a production not celebrating a relationship.

I think it's interesting to see how the comments fall into one category or the other.  Here's an example of the responses to that Facebook post:

• Special memories in the making 
• Lovely time with family on a beautiful Island.
• So much joy!
• Looks like so much fun!
• 
  
• So nice you're enjoying your time together! As someone else said, you are making great memories!
• So happy you were able to go!
• Wonderful memories!
• Enjoy!
• Enjoy every minute with your family! Such wonderful memories
• 
  
• Beautiful photos display wonderful times!

• Are you a "making memories", "carpe diem" , or a blend of the two as the last two are?