Old Times with Old Friends

Memorial Day weekend is a reunion weekend for a group of our Air Force friends. The guys were all in the 75th MAS at Travis AFB CA in the 70s-80s and served as Loadmasters on the giant C-5A aircraft.

There is a very tight bond between servicemen. Each group thinks theirs is the best. Of course, we all KNOW that the USAF is the tops!! =-)

For many years we were friends with most of these guys. I knew them better than their wives in most cases. Of course, wives, in most cases, changed. Some way too frequently! One guy, Ron, is on wife number 3. The only way my husband can remember Ron's current wife's name is to think of Ron's dog - who shares the same name as wife number 3. His theory is Ron had 3 wives but only one dog - so the name is easy to remember that way.

We seldom see these men who are now all retired and scattered around the country. We get the obligatory Christmas card - and occasional email. Nothing more. Still it is nice to catch up on their families. Most had young children who are now married and have children themselves.

It is weird that when I think of old friends, I mentally see them as I knew them 30 years ago. I am not totally daft - I do look in the occasional mirror and I know I have aged and assume they have as well. Yet, it was shocking when we had the first get together in Little Rock several years ago. The first reaction is "Oh! My God! You are old!! Where is your hair, your teeth, and didn't you used to be 40 lbs lighter? (Okay- that was for the guys! - I would never think such things of the wives, but then I did not have the chance because they all showed up with new wives.)

It is difficult to be social when you have no past history.I vaguely recall the wives from California and have never met this group. Still, the first year was nice and Ed loves to see his old buddies.

I decided after the first year to leave the reunions to Ed. He enjoys sitting there retelling all the same stories that have been rehashed each year. This year, he says it was different. They compared medical problems and procedures. They joked about Benny having dentures that do not have a large gap between the front teeth! Benny even had the dentist remake the dentures to include the gap - but all agreed, it was not enough to look like Benny! Chip has gotten old too. He was the student when we left California. He has joined the ranks of old retired Loadmaster with less hair and more belly!

I do not know if other segments of the work force reunite like the military - do accountants or bankers come together to talk about the old days when they actually used paper journals? (Hey! I used to work in a bank and I remember that!)

This group of Viet Nam era vets may glorify their service days. They rarily, if ever, talk about combat days. It is the personal relationships that have lingered and I hope they have many more - AIM HIGH! AIR FORCE!!!

REMEMBERING THE FALLEN ...

It is Memorial Day. Do you remember why? Is it about the "first day" of summer? No! Is it about when to wear summer whites? No.

It is about remembering the ones who stood for this country - their country - and ours and gave their lives to protect people who often did not know or care for them.

We, as a nation, have produced generations of patriots. Men and women who willingly gave of their time and talents to protect and serve our country and often other countries who were in need. As payment for that service, far too often, these generous, brave patriots made the ultimate sacrafice: their lives.

I have been a part of the military community since I was 17. My husband was already serving in the Air Force when we married. He was committed to a demanding mistress. When she called, he had to go - leaving family and friends behind to accomplish whatever mission the mistress required. It did not matter the day, (December 25th, July 4th), he served when called. I have not always understood that, but I knew it was his calling and he went.

This was not my first experience with the military. In 1952, when I was 5 years old (Okay! Now it is official I am OLD!), I have one of my first really vivid memories. It was winter - nearly Christmas or just after. My mother's cousin, Red, and his son Odell were visiting us. Red sent Odell to the grocery for lots of eggs and milk to make eggnog. My Dad said it was a good waste of eggs and milk, not to mention the liquor he poured in it. Odell who was very young - about 20 years old - passed on drinking the eggnog and asked for a coke.

I remember sitting on the floor, coloring in a oversized coloring book. It was about a circus. I showed it to Odell and asked him if he wanted to color a page. My mother rebuked me for "bothering" Odell with that mess. Odell, pulled the book across the floor and told her it was okay - he liked to color and then he proceded to color (very well) in my new book. The next day he left for Korea.

Korea. Not even a war. They officially referred to it as the "Korean Conflict". They shot bullets at people. It was a war. Months after Odell colored in my book, there came a knock on our door. Odell was dead. Killed by bullets in that "Non-War". With the possible exception of my father's death, I do not remember my mother ever being so destroyed. I can see her laying across her bed sobbing. Totally disolved in tears.

As a five year old, I did not understand what had happened. I had never seen death enter a home before. It was not a welcome visitor. I asked my mother about school. She had always been so strict about getting ready on time. She sobbed from her pillow - Odell is dead- you don't need school today!

I still have that coloring book. My mother must have put it away as I doubt that I would have known to do such a tribute. Keeping the last thing he touched in our lives before he left to die. The colors are still as bright today as they were in 1952 when he sat crossed legged on our living room floor and helped me decorate the circus in that book.

My mother died in 1970. She grieved until the day she died for that lost boy. She shook her head over Viet Nam and proclaimed we just never learn. She had watched her younger brothers serve their country in WWII. She did not want to give up another piece of her heart to a lost soldier.

Maybe we do learn. We learn that life and freedom are precious. To achieve them, many have paid everything they possess, even their lives. Those who loved them know how much their service cost.

Today, we remember - or we should - the Odell Hightowers of the world. Those young (and not so young) who gave of their time and talents to stand tall and say "I serve".

God Bless them for this gift! Because of them, We can stand tall today (with our plates of BBQ and potato salad in our hands) and say I AM AN AMERICAN - AND DAMN PROUD OF IT!

Technology after 60

Ed has always been curious about new gadgets. He HAS to have a "toy" of some sort to play with at Christmas. I, on the other hand, have always been satisfied with the status quo. I am fearful of changes and if it were not for pressure from within this house, (and the unavailability of replacement ribbons), I would still be banging away on my old typewriter.

Over the past few years, Ed has given me two large "day planner" books. (do you think he is trying to "TELL" me something?) Maybeeeee! I admit the first one really was a lifesaver during the planning of Dawn's wedding. Everything -and I mean everything was written in that book. Phone numbers, dates, confirmation numbers and receipts were all there. So the day I drove off from work with the thing planted on my car's roof, became quite traumatic. Thank goodness I had detoured into the nearby Walmart parking lot and when it fell off, a passing motorist started blowing her car horn and flashing her lights! I thought she was a total nut case or perhaps a mass murderer with a unique approach of obtaining victims. Then I found out WHY she had flagged me down and I was ready to nominate her for sainthood!

Anyway, the large day planners were pretty much replaced by a "Palm Pilot". I do like the palm. Much smaller and avoids the nutty professor look with the old lady toting a large black binder.

Then I added a cell phone to the mix. Lots of technology to tote around to pretty much tell me I have no where to go!

Then they came out with the "Blackberry" type devices! "Egads!" says Ed - well, not really, I do not think he has ever actually said "Egads" - but you get the gist of his excitment.

I went to look at this new wonder and was put off by two things. First the price. they were about $400 and no way was I paying that for a cell phone with a $29 per month phone plan! Second was the teeny-weeny little keys! Have you SEEN these dinky little things. About the size of a zit! I looked at my chubby fingers and decided that this just would not work.

Then, just prior to Mother's Day, they put the phones on sale. Just $99 and I could be high-tech again. I began doing finger curls to reduce any resistance to punching the keys!

I looked on line and found a real beauty! Red and sparkly - YEAH! that is me in a package! I ordered it and began to plan for all the things we could do!

Our first task was to return to the sales store because the sims card they included would not work. The young man behind the desk suggested I might take it home and call the AT&T help line and I suggested he make the call as my butt was not leaving the chair until the phone worked! We sat there together for about an hour as he waited on the phone for someone to "help" him. We were both reassured several times that "Our call was important to AT&T -" but that fact did not speed up the process.

One bug in this whole problem, was that I was assured before the purchase and by the young man in the local store,that I did not have to upgrade my phone plan to operate this new phone. NO, I would not be able to access the internet or use the GPS system, but that was okay with me! They told me I could use the software on my computer to transfer my Palm data into my new toy. They lied!

Later when I spoke with yet another representative about my problems with the computer software - I was told that inorder for me to use the software I had to subscribe to the online service - an additional $50 per month. Nope- not going to happen! Do not need it - and not going to buy it!

So for two days, I sat and poked itty bitty buttons as I watched tv. I managed to load all my phone data, my calendar etc into this glitzy little red box. I sound so posh when I say -"Oops, excuse me - my Blackberry is about to ring". People think I am becoming psychic with the thing - but actually, the phone vibrates before it rings and makes my hips tingle before it actually rings! So I feel the call before I get it! (THIS MAY BE A FEATURE AT&T SHOULD PROMOTE MORE! -MAKES YOUR BUTT TINGLE!) Who else can claim that!

Who says I am not high-tech! Watch this mama go!

Generations of Mothers to celebrate!

In just a few days, it will be Mother's Day again. With age, comes it perks, and one of them, is being a "Mother" on Mother's Day.

I was thinking back over the years I was the celebrator of Mother's Day. Paying homage to my mom, Dallas. I made the special cards - although my artistic talent was very lacking. I remember going to the "dime" store to purchase the special gifts. Oh! The "Blue Waltz" perfume - It came in a cobalt blue bottle with a fancy silver stopper. If you paid more, and got a bigger bottle, it had a fringed tassle around the cork and was packed in a fancy box with blue velvet lining. None of the fancy rapping altered the fact - that stuff stunk to high heaven! Later, came Avon and Topez cologne! Woo-woo! More stink! Very strong stink.

I pulled out some old pictures of my grandmothers - great grandmothers too. They were powerful ladies.

Let's talk about Abigail Beaty Williams. Married to James W Williams, she lived from 1840- 1920. She was a very tiny little lady. She reminds me alot of my mom. Abigail has quite the reputation - depending to whom you are speaking.

Small in stature, she was called "Mama" by everyone. She was widowed for many years and even though there were several adult sons in the home - she ruled the roost. Her son's first wife died young (my grandmother, Naomi), and "Mama" took over their children as well. Rumor has it, her sons were not very stable. They liked to play music, and have a good time.

My grandfather had many grand money making schemes - none of which worked for him, mostly because he was tender hearted and did not demand payment from his customers. For that reason, my great grandmother controlled the money and was said to have kept it in a cloth bag between her feather mattresses. If you needed money, you had to ask "mama".

Naomi Boatwright Williams was the first wife of James A Williams. (son of Abigail). She lived on the family farm that came from her father's family. The hoard of Williams' men (and Mama)- moved in and Naomi was busy raising her brood of 6 children. She died young, leaving her children in the care of "mama" and later a step-mother, Arlee Richardson Williams. Mama did not make life easy for wife number two- but she produced 3 sons and provided a loving female for the children of Naomi.

One of Naomi's children, was my mother Dallas Williams Campbell. Raised on a farm in KY, she knew that was not the life for her. She left KY when she was 18 and moved to Ohio where she trained to become a nurse, met my Dad and gave birh to a son, Arthur Yule in 1930 and a daughter, me in 1947. Dallas did not have an easy life. She was crippled with Rheumatoid Arthritis from her early twenties. She tried every cure that came along, but got little relief. Married in 1929 to the love of her life, she managed to raise a daughter in spite of her physical limitations. (Their son died at the age of 7 months.)

I truly do not remember her complaining a lot about her pain. And she had lots of it! She took cortisone daily and the side effects eventually killed her. Like her grandmother before her (Abigail), she faced the trials life gave her and plowed ahead.

My greatest triumph is my two children. My oldest, Scott, is a treasure. He loves without limits and asks so little in return. Labled:mentally retarded, special needs, developmentally delayed - he is just Scott and he is someone that inspires me to get up each day and keep going! When I want to quit, am tired and somedays at my lowest web, I think of Scott and know I have been blessed and need to get over myself.

And then there is my baby:Dawn Marie. Oh! How I waited for her to come into this world! I had so many dreams and plans for our life together. My husband was adament that she would be a girl -he just knew it and wanted it that way. She has always been Daddy's girl - but I breath in each day with her and hold it deep inside as long as I can. I can smell her hair on her pillow after she has been home for a visit - it can bring me to tears with longing for her nearness - yet comfort me in her absence.

Children leave home and grow up. That is as it should be. I am proud that she grew up to be a compasionate woman, filled with love for her husband and son. The challenges she faces over the next years with Sawyer's health and hurdles in life may slow her down but they will never crumble her. She is her father's daughter and I know she has the strength of character to take on the world for those she loves.

So this Mother's Day, I will remember the generations before me that were called "Mother", "Mama", "Mom" etc. - and know that in some measure they made me the mother I am - good or bad. There is no other title in this world (well maybe Grandma) of which I am more proud! We have a pretty good club and I am so happy God let me be a member of this "Mom's Club!"

BLUE SKIES AHEAD...

It is Sunday morning and I am getting ready for church. Actually, I am a tad early because I looked at the clock without my glasses and was a little off ... by an hour. So here I sit, church clothes on, so I must be careful to avoid lint, grease, anything that could stick to these good black slacks! I am a human magnet for things that ruin good clothes.

Friday night we were told to expect storms. We had been under a tornado watch for most of the day. Storms came and went but none that were severe. So about 11PM I headed to bed. Around midnight I was awakened by horrific winds and hail beating on the outside of our home. (That is always a good sign, if the winds and rain are on the outside instead of hitting you on the nose as you lay in your bed.)

Then I heard the tornado warning sirens from Ft Campbell - which is very close to our home. Deciding to check the tv weather before routing my son and husband out of their slumber to race to the basement, I ran to the living room- flipped on the TV and watched the colorful radar display showing the approaching storms.

After a few minutes, I was convinced that we were not directly in the path of the storm and went back to bed. My reentry woke Ed and I took that opportunity to pass the gauntlet to him. (It is the man's duty to 'protect" the family - right?) So I mumbled - "Tornado sirens are going off". I have to say this because my husband's hearing is not good and unless you are standing in front of him with a bullhorn- he will not hear you!

Doing the manly thing- he pulled himself upright and retraced my path to the TV to gauge the need for basement entrenchment. He did not return to the bedroom so I turned over - covered my ears and went back to sleep.

The next morning I learned that indeed, 4 tornados had touched down in our county. Several homes and mobile homes - a semi truck and our large pavillion at the fairgrounds had been damaged. They were weak tornados but I do not think that mattered to the families who now sleep in hotels or friends' homes.

Yesterday, the skies were a perfect shade of blue. Only the slightest hint of a puffy cloud here and there. A calm beautiful day.

I could not help but compare the weather - dark and threatening on Friday night - to our recent trials and despair over our beloved Sawyer and his parents. It did seem so dark for days. But the blue skies we loved yesterday are just testimony that the worst possible fears can be replaced with joy and beauty.

We do not know what Sawyer's limits may be - but when I think of the best picture - we never DID know what he was capable of. One by one his tests have been good. One by one problems are being replaced by hope.

A good friend of my - Justine Cooper - reminded me last week of Lazarus. "Do not forget," she said shaking me. "Lazarus was dead and stinky - ready for the grave- and Jesus said 'Come to me'!" And he did!

Just because we have a diagnosis - does not mean we have less of a person. Our little guy continues to learn and grow and amaze us with that smile. I want to put the diagnosis out of my mind and just enjoy the blue skies that Sawyer brings in my life.

Today is another blue sky day - Thank you Lord! I have to rush - for now - I truly am late for church!