Grant County Journal
December 27, 2010
Partridges and glittery things
Written by Janet Warren
I’ll bet you thought Christmas was over. Wrong. The Twelve Days of Christmas actually started the evening of December 25th and ends on the Eve of Epiphany, January 5. We have another week and a half to go (although my decorations usually come down before then). So settle down for a long winter’s nap while I tell you about partridges in pear trees.
One year my kids and I did the “12 Days of Christmas” for their grandparents. We started 12 days before Christmas, but now I find out I had the timing wrong. Regardless, the grandparents had a fun time opening their door to a small gift or plate of goodies each evening after we rang the doorbell and ran. We found out later that their assisted living residence had cameras on the front gate and they saw our van driving away each night on their television. They were good sports, though, and didn’t let on. The only gifts I remember were the “two turtle doves” where we left a couple of Dove Bars and the “four calling birds” where we left a beautiful book of birds.
All these years later, I find myself interested in the origin of things. Perhaps it’s because the internet makes it so easy to do research. Or maybe it is because history brings on new meaning once you get to the age where you actually lived through some of the things they are now teaching the kids in history class. As always, I will put in a disclaimer on research on the internet; there is a lot of conflicting information. The only thing we know for sure is that “calling birds” were originally “colly or collie birds,” which are blackbirds. There are many variations on the origins of the song Partridge in a Pear Tree, one of them that it was a mnemonic (device to aid in memory) to teach a secret catechism during the years of the religious wars in the 16th century. My true love being God and the partridge being Jesus, the pear tree the cross. Snopes.com debunks this theory as a myth, but the truth is no one really knows where the song came from. I always thought it was a nonsensical song with a catchy tune. Which, of course, might be all that it is.
Since I’m dabbling in some Christmas trivia here, do you know where eggnog originated? That seems to be sketchy too. Kitchenproject.com has a couple of ideas which seem as good as any. Eggnog is first mentioned in the early part of the 17th century as a drink to toast one’s health. Rum was commonly referred to as grog in Colonial America, so eggnog could be a shortened version of egg ‘n grog. Or perhaps the name comes from a small wooden carved mug called a noggin. Egg ‘n grog in a noggin. Try saying that after a few cups of the stuff. George Washington had his own recipe for eggnog made with rye whiskey, rum, and sherry “reputed to be a stiff drink that only the most courageous were willing to try.” The popular version in my family was a virgin eggnog, which gave way to the store-bought eggnog because the eggs were pasteurized. I stopped drinking it altogether when I figured I didn’t need any more help to raise my cholesterol. Mike never even tasted eggnog until this year when I needed a cup to use in a recipe. There were three cups left in the quart I bought, so I poured him a noggin. He wasn’t impressed, which is good because your 50’s is no time to develop a taste for artery-clogging beverages.
This week I am doing all the things I postponed until after Christmas. Mike and I traveled to Colorado to see my daughter, Jodie, graduate from University of Colorado on December 17th. We were only gone for three days, but it kind of threw off my momentum. I didn’t plan a lot of activities for Christmas, and I must say it was the most relaxing week before Christmas I have ever had. I was able to get in a little reading, watch a couple of Hallmark Christmas specials (sappy and predictable, but I admit I got a little teary-eyed), and I forced Mike to sit down and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” on Christmas Eve. He loves Jimmy Stewart, so I didn’t have to twist his arm too hard.
If you’ve seen the TV commercials this season, this next story will make you laugh. My friend Janice in Albuquerque has taught second grade for over 25 years. Janice wrote: “Funny story. This is why I love being a teacher! Please read on: A little boy in my class brought in a gift for me. I proceeded to open it. Inside was a piece of costume jewelry in the shape of a snowflake and very glittery. A little girl who was watching squealed, ‘He went to Jared!’" Can’t you just see that as a commercial for Jared Galleria of Jewelry? By the way, Jared’s isn’t near as nice as Harrison’s Jewelers right here in Ephrata. They have a lot of glittery things too. Hint, hint, Mike…we do have an anniversary coming up in January.
This column has turned out a lot like my week—random things popping up. It’s good to have a week like that sometimes. It does come around full circle, however, because whenever I am ticking off a list of unrelated items, I usually add “and a partridge in a pear tree” no matter what time of year it is. Next week we’ll get back to business since it is time for New Year’s resolutions…just sayin’.
I hope Christmas was everything you and your family wanted it to be this year. Talk to you next year!
Monday, December 27, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
I Believe--Powerful Words
Grant County Journal
December 20, 2010
I Believe—Powerful Words
Written by Janet Warren
There comes a time in everyone’s life when what they believe needs to be put into words. These words may never be spoken out loud, but they are expressed by the way we live our lives. I wonder sometimes what people will say at my funeral. What if one of my children gives my eulogy? I can tell you what I hope will be said. I hope Jenni will say that I was there for her. I hope Jodie will say that I accepted her. I hope Jon will say I encouraged him. I hope James will say that I prayed for him. And I hope Jeffrey will say I did my best. I also hope Mindi and Jeff will say I was a good wife to their father and that I loved him. But most of all, I hope all of them say that they know I loved them with all of my heart. I also hope they say I believed in Jesus Christ of the New Testament and that I did not think the Bible was a “Christian myth” as one of my professors once called it.
A few months ago, I got the official population of Ephrata from Leslie Trachsler at City Hall.
At that time it was 7,110. I know Logan and Audrey Nelson had a baby since then, so it’s at least 7,111. I had to go to the internet to get information on religion. I found out that 40.66 percent of the people in Ephrata are affiliated with a religion. Using my mad math skills, I came up with 2,891 people who belong to a religion. I have to deduce that those 2,891 people are Christian because those are the only religions listed in the yellow pages. This doesn’t take into account the people who believe in Christ but are not affiliated with an organized religion. For my purposes, however, we have a lot of Christians in Ephrata, which is why I am going to talk about Mary. Can you follow my logic? That’s okay…Mike can’t either.
While I was raising my family, I tried to stay focused on why we celebrate Christmas. I admit that some years I did better than others. When James was about 4 years old we were in a craft store in Colorado Springs. There was a life-size statue of Santa Claus that James rushed up to and exclaimed loudly: “Jesus!” I was always thankful he didn’t point to pictures of Jesus at church and shout “Santa Claus!”
I explained the symbols of Christmas to my children. The candy canes we always put on the tree represented the crooks of the shepherds who were among the first to know of the birth of the Christ child. The star on top of the tree reminds us of the sign shown in the heavens that first Christmas Eve. The lights remind us that He is the Light of the World. The evergreen is the symbol of life. We give gifts to each other to remind us of the gift our Savior gave us through His atonement for our sins.
I find myself contemplating Mary’s point of view when I read the Christmas story in Luke. I should have talked to my children more about that. I don’t think she complained as she was riding on a donkey while in labor, but I believe she may have been frightened about not knowing what to expect. My daughter, Jodie, came very close to being born in the parking lot of Providence Hospital in Anchorage. Had it not been for some alert nurses, we may have had to pick gravel out of her thick head of hair. There were no nurses to rescue Mary, but I wonder if angels attended her. Even though it was not customary for the time, did Joseph wipe her brow and offer encouragement to her? Jesus was born in a manger, probably more like a cave than a wooden structure, but I don’t believe it was an accident. The conditions were dark and dirty and smelly, but there was no room at the inn because He was meant to be born in lowly surroundings. His ministry was among the poor, the sick, and the humble. He was born to heal broken hearts and to give hope to a weary world.
This Christmas I was at a program where the song Mary, Did you Know? was performed.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.
The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the Lamb.
Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am. (Lyrics by Mark Lowry)
Mary was told by an angel that she would bear the Son of God, but I believe she had to learn what that meant little by little. After the birth of Christ was proclaimed to the shepherds, they told everyone they met about it. “And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2: 17-19).
This is how all of us figure out what it is we believe in, little by little, and by taking small moments of stillness to ponder. My beliefs will be added onto as I grow older, and I hope by the time my eulogy is written the main theme of it will be that I believe in Christ. I Believe. Powerful, life-affirming words.
May the power of this Christmas season heal your heart and bring you joy.
December 20, 2010
I Believe—Powerful Words
Written by Janet Warren
There comes a time in everyone’s life when what they believe needs to be put into words. These words may never be spoken out loud, but they are expressed by the way we live our lives. I wonder sometimes what people will say at my funeral. What if one of my children gives my eulogy? I can tell you what I hope will be said. I hope Jenni will say that I was there for her. I hope Jodie will say that I accepted her. I hope Jon will say I encouraged him. I hope James will say that I prayed for him. And I hope Jeffrey will say I did my best. I also hope Mindi and Jeff will say I was a good wife to their father and that I loved him. But most of all, I hope all of them say that they know I loved them with all of my heart. I also hope they say I believed in Jesus Christ of the New Testament and that I did not think the Bible was a “Christian myth” as one of my professors once called it.
A few months ago, I got the official population of Ephrata from Leslie Trachsler at City Hall.
At that time it was 7,110. I know Logan and Audrey Nelson had a baby since then, so it’s at least 7,111. I had to go to the internet to get information on religion. I found out that 40.66 percent of the people in Ephrata are affiliated with a religion. Using my mad math skills, I came up with 2,891 people who belong to a religion. I have to deduce that those 2,891 people are Christian because those are the only religions listed in the yellow pages. This doesn’t take into account the people who believe in Christ but are not affiliated with an organized religion. For my purposes, however, we have a lot of Christians in Ephrata, which is why I am going to talk about Mary. Can you follow my logic? That’s okay…Mike can’t either.
While I was raising my family, I tried to stay focused on why we celebrate Christmas. I admit that some years I did better than others. When James was about 4 years old we were in a craft store in Colorado Springs. There was a life-size statue of Santa Claus that James rushed up to and exclaimed loudly: “Jesus!” I was always thankful he didn’t point to pictures of Jesus at church and shout “Santa Claus!”
I explained the symbols of Christmas to my children. The candy canes we always put on the tree represented the crooks of the shepherds who were among the first to know of the birth of the Christ child. The star on top of the tree reminds us of the sign shown in the heavens that first Christmas Eve. The lights remind us that He is the Light of the World. The evergreen is the symbol of life. We give gifts to each other to remind us of the gift our Savior gave us through His atonement for our sins.
I find myself contemplating Mary’s point of view when I read the Christmas story in Luke. I should have talked to my children more about that. I don’t think she complained as she was riding on a donkey while in labor, but I believe she may have been frightened about not knowing what to expect. My daughter, Jodie, came very close to being born in the parking lot of Providence Hospital in Anchorage. Had it not been for some alert nurses, we may have had to pick gravel out of her thick head of hair. There were no nurses to rescue Mary, but I wonder if angels attended her. Even though it was not customary for the time, did Joseph wipe her brow and offer encouragement to her? Jesus was born in a manger, probably more like a cave than a wooden structure, but I don’t believe it was an accident. The conditions were dark and dirty and smelly, but there was no room at the inn because He was meant to be born in lowly surroundings. His ministry was among the poor, the sick, and the humble. He was born to heal broken hearts and to give hope to a weary world.
This Christmas I was at a program where the song Mary, Did you Know? was performed.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.
The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the Lamb.
Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am. (Lyrics by Mark Lowry)
Mary was told by an angel that she would bear the Son of God, but I believe she had to learn what that meant little by little. After the birth of Christ was proclaimed to the shepherds, they told everyone they met about it. “And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2: 17-19).
This is how all of us figure out what it is we believe in, little by little, and by taking small moments of stillness to ponder. My beliefs will be added onto as I grow older, and I hope by the time my eulogy is written the main theme of it will be that I believe in Christ. I Believe. Powerful, life-affirming words.
May the power of this Christmas season heal your heart and bring you joy.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Ephrata Means Bethlehem
Grant County Journal
December 13, 2010
Ephrata means Bethlehem
Written by Janet Warren
Roberta Gibson gave me a call recently. She wanted to let me know that “Ephrata” means Bethlehem. She’s right. On the City’s website I learned this: “The first official name, recorded by the Great Northern Railroad in 1892, was ‘Station 11,’an unglamorous name for the water stop near Beezley Springs. Local legend has it that a worker on the rail line found that the orchards and the landscape were similar to the Holy Land and christened the area ‘Ephrata’… an older name for Bethlehem.” I didn’t know that. Here are some other things I didn’t know:
Bruce Reim is the Mayor Pro-Tem. That means if the mayor is absent, Bruce gets to rap the gavel at the City Council meeting. During the 1950’s, Bruce lived in Spokane where almost all of his extended family lived. His grandparents were the hub of their family and every Christmas Eve the entire family showed up at their house. They sang carols and munched on traditional goodies. Eggnog flowed like water for the children. Several members of the family played various instruments, so their family songfest was accompanied not only by a piano but also violins and a flute or two. Children sang solos, and skits were performed. Grandpa would then read the story of Christ’s birth from the Bible and then it was off to bed for the children. Bruce remembers waking during the night to the sound of the adults still singing and playing violins.
Stephanie Knitter is the newest member of City Council. She, her husband Keith and daughter Kaitlyn moved to Ephrata 16 years ago after a 4-year stint in California. Stephanie hosted an exchange student from Norway several years ago. She introduced the family to a type of porridge eaten on Christmas Eve after attending candlelight services. In one of the bowls an almond is hidden. The person who finds the almond gets a special gift. (I’ve also heard that the person who finds the almond has luck the whole next year. Yet another reason to find the almond this year, Stephanie).
Stephanie grew up in Florida . She and her siblings were allowed to open one small gift on Christmas Eve, which always happened to be pajamas. Stephanie thinks her mom did this so the pictures on Christmas morning would look nice. Her family still opens gifts on Christmas morning, just as she did as a kid. (As a side note, I did the pajama gift on Christmas Eve too, and that is the only tradition my two daughters continued in their own families. There is something really nice about a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve).
Ben Davis has been on the City Council for 7 years. He has lived in Ephrata since age 11, except for his college years. He married Roberta (Nickel), a lifelong Ephrata resident, 42 years ago. Ben remembers selling fresh-cut Christmas trees in Ephrata. He and his brother, Don, cut about 100 trees in Pend Orielle County and their father transported them to Ephrata. They stopped cutting trees when they were in their mid-teens, yet people called for years after hoping they could buy one of their wild, fresh trees.
Almost all of Ben’s immediate family lives in or close to Ephrata, which enables them to spend time together during all of the major holidays. One family tradition that Roberta and Ben have continued through generations is the making of the Davis Crab Cocktail at Christmas. The concoction has many ingredients, but the most important one is a large quantity of fresh Dungeness crab. They watch the ads very closely just before Christmas, but have frozen ones on hand just in case they are not available. (I was at Safeway on Wednesday and they had the crabs, buy one get one free!).
Wes Crago isn’t on the City Council, but he is the City Administrator and presents the city business at the council meetings. He tells me Christmas is a big deal in the Crago home. The tree must go up on the Friday following Thanksgiving, pre-empted only if skiing conditions are too good to ignore. The tree is decorated with an eclectic mix of horse, princess, and history ornaments. He and his daughter Christa put up the lights. His wife, Vangie, and Christa make Wes’s favorite Christmas cookie—frosted sugar cookies which he describes as “boring perhaps, yet pure.” Wes’s church celebrates the season with a weekly advent event, culminating in a Christmas Eve candlelight service which is a big highlight for them. Many evenings during Christmas will find the Cragos watching movies together or listening to jazz/blues Christmas music in front of the fire.
Kathleen Allstot and her husband Rick, along with their children, moved to Ephrata in 1987. Kathleen has been the teacher-librarian at Ephrata High School since 1990. Rick and Kathleen spent the first three Christmases of their marriage in Poland teaching English as a second language. Each year they celebrated Vigilia, or Christmas Eve with local families. A Polish tradition is to buy a large, fresh fish (usually carp) from the fishmonger’s shop, take it home and keep it alive in the bathtub until December 24th, and then bake it as the centerpiece of a multi-course holiday dinner! Kathleen said, “While we enjoyed many of the courses, such as borsht or wild mushroom soup or poppyseed cakes, we never did develop a love of carp.”
One Christmas Eve, Kathleen and Rick walked home after attending the midnight service at one of the few Protestant chapels in old town Olsztyn. “It was dark, snow was falling, and the air was crisp. As we approached a guardhouse outside the gate of a military base near the university, a young Polish soldier wearing a greatcoat and carrying his rifle asked us what time it was. We answered him (in Polish, of course), agreed that it was cold that night, and exchanged holiday greetings before parting. The best part was realizing that the poor young Communist soldier was guarding his base and his country against non-Communists such as ourselves. We have always remembered that incident because all three of us were simply young people away from home on Christmas, not enemies, but just God’s children from different countries.”
Did you notice that the traditions in last week’s column, as well as this one focus on people? They are about remembering family and connecting to our loved ones. They are about making Christmas special for others. Two of them were about connecting with strangers. They are about music and peaceful feelings. My best Christmas when I was a child was the one where my Christmas gift was to fly to Reno with my parents to look for a place to live. It was one of the first times I had spent one-on-one time with my folks. Please spend time with the people you love this Christmas. Those moments are memory makers.
December 13, 2010
Ephrata means Bethlehem
Written by Janet Warren
Roberta Gibson gave me a call recently. She wanted to let me know that “Ephrata” means Bethlehem. She’s right. On the City’s website I learned this: “The first official name, recorded by the Great Northern Railroad in 1892, was ‘Station 11,’an unglamorous name for the water stop near Beezley Springs. Local legend has it that a worker on the rail line found that the orchards and the landscape were similar to the Holy Land and christened the area ‘Ephrata’… an older name for Bethlehem.” I didn’t know that. Here are some other things I didn’t know:
Bruce Reim is the Mayor Pro-Tem. That means if the mayor is absent, Bruce gets to rap the gavel at the City Council meeting. During the 1950’s, Bruce lived in Spokane where almost all of his extended family lived. His grandparents were the hub of their family and every Christmas Eve the entire family showed up at their house. They sang carols and munched on traditional goodies. Eggnog flowed like water for the children. Several members of the family played various instruments, so their family songfest was accompanied not only by a piano but also violins and a flute or two. Children sang solos, and skits were performed. Grandpa would then read the story of Christ’s birth from the Bible and then it was off to bed for the children. Bruce remembers waking during the night to the sound of the adults still singing and playing violins.
Stephanie Knitter is the newest member of City Council. She, her husband Keith and daughter Kaitlyn moved to Ephrata 16 years ago after a 4-year stint in California. Stephanie hosted an exchange student from Norway several years ago. She introduced the family to a type of porridge eaten on Christmas Eve after attending candlelight services. In one of the bowls an almond is hidden. The person who finds the almond gets a special gift. (I’ve also heard that the person who finds the almond has luck the whole next year. Yet another reason to find the almond this year, Stephanie).
Stephanie grew up in Florida . She and her siblings were allowed to open one small gift on Christmas Eve, which always happened to be pajamas. Stephanie thinks her mom did this so the pictures on Christmas morning would look nice. Her family still opens gifts on Christmas morning, just as she did as a kid. (As a side note, I did the pajama gift on Christmas Eve too, and that is the only tradition my two daughters continued in their own families. There is something really nice about a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve).
Ben Davis has been on the City Council for 7 years. He has lived in Ephrata since age 11, except for his college years. He married Roberta (Nickel), a lifelong Ephrata resident, 42 years ago. Ben remembers selling fresh-cut Christmas trees in Ephrata. He and his brother, Don, cut about 100 trees in Pend Orielle County and their father transported them to Ephrata. They stopped cutting trees when they were in their mid-teens, yet people called for years after hoping they could buy one of their wild, fresh trees.
Almost all of Ben’s immediate family lives in or close to Ephrata, which enables them to spend time together during all of the major holidays. One family tradition that Roberta and Ben have continued through generations is the making of the Davis Crab Cocktail at Christmas. The concoction has many ingredients, but the most important one is a large quantity of fresh Dungeness crab. They watch the ads very closely just before Christmas, but have frozen ones on hand just in case they are not available. (I was at Safeway on Wednesday and they had the crabs, buy one get one free!).
Wes Crago isn’t on the City Council, but he is the City Administrator and presents the city business at the council meetings. He tells me Christmas is a big deal in the Crago home. The tree must go up on the Friday following Thanksgiving, pre-empted only if skiing conditions are too good to ignore. The tree is decorated with an eclectic mix of horse, princess, and history ornaments. He and his daughter Christa put up the lights. His wife, Vangie, and Christa make Wes’s favorite Christmas cookie—frosted sugar cookies which he describes as “boring perhaps, yet pure.” Wes’s church celebrates the season with a weekly advent event, culminating in a Christmas Eve candlelight service which is a big highlight for them. Many evenings during Christmas will find the Cragos watching movies together or listening to jazz/blues Christmas music in front of the fire.
Kathleen Allstot and her husband Rick, along with their children, moved to Ephrata in 1987. Kathleen has been the teacher-librarian at Ephrata High School since 1990. Rick and Kathleen spent the first three Christmases of their marriage in Poland teaching English as a second language. Each year they celebrated Vigilia, or Christmas Eve with local families. A Polish tradition is to buy a large, fresh fish (usually carp) from the fishmonger’s shop, take it home and keep it alive in the bathtub until December 24th, and then bake it as the centerpiece of a multi-course holiday dinner! Kathleen said, “While we enjoyed many of the courses, such as borsht or wild mushroom soup or poppyseed cakes, we never did develop a love of carp.”
One Christmas Eve, Kathleen and Rick walked home after attending the midnight service at one of the few Protestant chapels in old town Olsztyn. “It was dark, snow was falling, and the air was crisp. As we approached a guardhouse outside the gate of a military base near the university, a young Polish soldier wearing a greatcoat and carrying his rifle asked us what time it was. We answered him (in Polish, of course), agreed that it was cold that night, and exchanged holiday greetings before parting. The best part was realizing that the poor young Communist soldier was guarding his base and his country against non-Communists such as ourselves. We have always remembered that incident because all three of us were simply young people away from home on Christmas, not enemies, but just God’s children from different countries.”
Did you notice that the traditions in last week’s column, as well as this one focus on people? They are about remembering family and connecting to our loved ones. They are about making Christmas special for others. Two of them were about connecting with strangers. They are about music and peaceful feelings. My best Christmas when I was a child was the one where my Christmas gift was to fly to Reno with my parents to look for a place to live. It was one of the first times I had spent one-on-one time with my folks. Please spend time with the people you love this Christmas. Those moments are memory makers.
Monday, December 6, 2010
TRADITION!
Grant County Journal
December 6, 2010
Janet Warren
TRADITION!
In one of my favorite musicals, Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye says tradition has helped him keep his balance for many, many years. TRADITION! TRADITION! Now I’ll be humming that song all day.
Family traditions are important for a number of reasons. When you think back on your childhood, it’s usually the traditions that bring back pleasant memories. In this age of divorce, children hang on to those traditions because they can represent stability and continuity. A wise parent keeps these traditions going even when life seems anything but stable.
My family traditions when I was growing up most often revolved around food. My mom always baked sugar cookies. On the Santa cookies, she made a coconut beard and used colored sugar to painstakingly paint his eyes blue and his cheeks and mouth red. They were works of art. I keep this tradition in a way. I collect cookie cutters and always feel the need to bake a batch of sugar cookies during the holidays. But, on the other hand…a can of frosting and some sprinkles suffice for me. One of the newer traditions in our family came about 10 years ago when my sister, Sara, made some pear and sausage stuffing for Thanksgiving. She sent the recipe to her siblings, children, nieces and nephews and most of us still use that stuffing recipe. I had to change it when I married Mike since he is allergic to pork. I started using turkey sausage which isn’t quite as tasty, but I can keep the tradition alive without making my husband sick. Tevye learned to be flexible and change with the times too.
I nosed around a little bit in Ephrata and on Facebook asking people to share some of their traditions with me. I was not disappointed by the response.
Andrea Larsen remembers a time when she was young and her parents couldn’t afford Christmas presents. One very cold Christmas Eve in Seattle, a Secret Santa started a tradition that he/she/they may not even be aware of. A box of Christmas dinner fixings and gifts for the whole family was left on the doorstep. All these years later, Andrea remembers the Yahtzee game she received from a stranger. On years where her parents could afford it, they started paying it forward, providing Christmas gifts for a less fortunate family. Andrea wanted her children to be raised with this legacy, so they have made it a tradition in their family to give gifts and food to a family who otherwise might not have much under the Christmas tree.
Connie Balciar comes from a Danish background. Her paternal grandmother made Christmas mush to eat on Christmas Eve. It was a nice creamy mush made of flour, cream and butter. She would put a ladleful on each plate, butter was then put on the top and spread as it melted. It was topped with cinnamon and sugar. As Connie and her siblings married, the spouses were initiated into the Christmas Eve tradition. Some liked the mush, others didn’t, so other items were added into the night’s meal. Connie remembers Christmas Eve being a wonderful night full of singing, poem reading, and to top off the festivities—a visit from Santa!
My cute hairdresser, Mandolin Hope told me that she and her brothers and sisters were allowed to play with the unwrapped gifts that Santa had left on Christmas morning, but they had breakfast before any of them could unwrap any gifts. Mandolin said, “It was super cool because it dragged it out all day.”
Penny Quist’s favorite tradition is “Drawing Pixies.” The family draws names and does kind things for that person leading up to Christmas. They take turns on Christmas Eve guessing who their pixie was. Once the pixie is guessed, the pixie gives one last small gift.
Lyn Exeter’s children loved it when the elves would come and check on them. As Christmas neared, the kids would find lights suddenly swaying, little candies appearing, unexpected knocks on the door or windows and little footprints in the snow. The kids would beg to go to bed early on Christmas Eve. One year, Santa got a lungful of smoke from calling “Ho, ho, ho” down the chimney. A newer tradition the Exeters started is connecting to their grandson in upstate New York by way of webcam on Christmas morning. That way Grandma and Grandpa don’t miss out on seeing the joy in their grandson’s face as he opens his gifts.
Carol Snapp was my roommate in college 33 years ago. She has been teaching school in Alpine, Utah, since graduation. Her Christmas as a kid happened on Christmas Eve. They went for a drive to see the Christmas lights around town and when they got back, Santa had miraculously been there. No one ever questioned how he always knew when they had left the house. All these years later, Carol wonders why every year they had to beg to open their gifts on Christmas Eve, especially since her father commented years later that opening gifts at night was so much better than in the morning because people could sleep in and they weren’t so grouchy. Oh, the games we parents play!
My sister, Diane, reminded me of how many gingerbread houses my mom made during the holidays. Also, she and my brother Dave would sneak downstairs and unwrap, then rewrap, all the gifts under the tree to find out what they were getting for Christmas. This went on for years, even into their teens. One Christmas they were in quite a hurry and mistakenly mixed up the tags on the gifts. When the rest of the family opened up presents in the morning, we were surprised with some unusual gift choices.
My nephew’s wife, Brittany, told me every Christmas morning they made a trip to a nearby orphanage to give away one of the toys they had unwrapped that morning. “It really made us feel good,” she said.
My sister, Sara, said her kids filed downstairs Christmas morning youngest to oldest. When the married kids came home for Christmas, they insisted on following “tradition” and came down the stairs in order. Sara said they were only able to come down after she had showered, dressed, and put on her makeup because she didn’t want to be caught in the Christmas pictures with bedhead and no makeup. In my family, I made sure I was the one behind the camera.
It’s never too late to start a tradition. Just tell your family, “This year we’re going to try something new…” If it works out and you do it next year, it’s TRADITION!
December 6, 2010
Janet Warren
TRADITION!
In one of my favorite musicals, Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye says tradition has helped him keep his balance for many, many years. TRADITION! TRADITION! Now I’ll be humming that song all day.
Family traditions are important for a number of reasons. When you think back on your childhood, it’s usually the traditions that bring back pleasant memories. In this age of divorce, children hang on to those traditions because they can represent stability and continuity. A wise parent keeps these traditions going even when life seems anything but stable.
My family traditions when I was growing up most often revolved around food. My mom always baked sugar cookies. On the Santa cookies, she made a coconut beard and used colored sugar to painstakingly paint his eyes blue and his cheeks and mouth red. They were works of art. I keep this tradition in a way. I collect cookie cutters and always feel the need to bake a batch of sugar cookies during the holidays. But, on the other hand…a can of frosting and some sprinkles suffice for me. One of the newer traditions in our family came about 10 years ago when my sister, Sara, made some pear and sausage stuffing for Thanksgiving. She sent the recipe to her siblings, children, nieces and nephews and most of us still use that stuffing recipe. I had to change it when I married Mike since he is allergic to pork. I started using turkey sausage which isn’t quite as tasty, but I can keep the tradition alive without making my husband sick. Tevye learned to be flexible and change with the times too.
I nosed around a little bit in Ephrata and on Facebook asking people to share some of their traditions with me. I was not disappointed by the response.
Andrea Larsen remembers a time when she was young and her parents couldn’t afford Christmas presents. One very cold Christmas Eve in Seattle, a Secret Santa started a tradition that he/she/they may not even be aware of. A box of Christmas dinner fixings and gifts for the whole family was left on the doorstep. All these years later, Andrea remembers the Yahtzee game she received from a stranger. On years where her parents could afford it, they started paying it forward, providing Christmas gifts for a less fortunate family. Andrea wanted her children to be raised with this legacy, so they have made it a tradition in their family to give gifts and food to a family who otherwise might not have much under the Christmas tree.
Connie Balciar comes from a Danish background. Her paternal grandmother made Christmas mush to eat on Christmas Eve. It was a nice creamy mush made of flour, cream and butter. She would put a ladleful on each plate, butter was then put on the top and spread as it melted. It was topped with cinnamon and sugar. As Connie and her siblings married, the spouses were initiated into the Christmas Eve tradition. Some liked the mush, others didn’t, so other items were added into the night’s meal. Connie remembers Christmas Eve being a wonderful night full of singing, poem reading, and to top off the festivities—a visit from Santa!
My cute hairdresser, Mandolin Hope told me that she and her brothers and sisters were allowed to play with the unwrapped gifts that Santa had left on Christmas morning, but they had breakfast before any of them could unwrap any gifts. Mandolin said, “It was super cool because it dragged it out all day.”
Penny Quist’s favorite tradition is “Drawing Pixies.” The family draws names and does kind things for that person leading up to Christmas. They take turns on Christmas Eve guessing who their pixie was. Once the pixie is guessed, the pixie gives one last small gift.
Lyn Exeter’s children loved it when the elves would come and check on them. As Christmas neared, the kids would find lights suddenly swaying, little candies appearing, unexpected knocks on the door or windows and little footprints in the snow. The kids would beg to go to bed early on Christmas Eve. One year, Santa got a lungful of smoke from calling “Ho, ho, ho” down the chimney. A newer tradition the Exeters started is connecting to their grandson in upstate New York by way of webcam on Christmas morning. That way Grandma and Grandpa don’t miss out on seeing the joy in their grandson’s face as he opens his gifts.
Carol Snapp was my roommate in college 33 years ago. She has been teaching school in Alpine, Utah, since graduation. Her Christmas as a kid happened on Christmas Eve. They went for a drive to see the Christmas lights around town and when they got back, Santa had miraculously been there. No one ever questioned how he always knew when they had left the house. All these years later, Carol wonders why every year they had to beg to open their gifts on Christmas Eve, especially since her father commented years later that opening gifts at night was so much better than in the morning because people could sleep in and they weren’t so grouchy. Oh, the games we parents play!
My sister, Diane, reminded me of how many gingerbread houses my mom made during the holidays. Also, she and my brother Dave would sneak downstairs and unwrap, then rewrap, all the gifts under the tree to find out what they were getting for Christmas. This went on for years, even into their teens. One Christmas they were in quite a hurry and mistakenly mixed up the tags on the gifts. When the rest of the family opened up presents in the morning, we were surprised with some unusual gift choices.
My nephew’s wife, Brittany, told me every Christmas morning they made a trip to a nearby orphanage to give away one of the toys they had unwrapped that morning. “It really made us feel good,” she said.
My sister, Sara, said her kids filed downstairs Christmas morning youngest to oldest. When the married kids came home for Christmas, they insisted on following “tradition” and came down the stairs in order. Sara said they were only able to come down after she had showered, dressed, and put on her makeup because she didn’t want to be caught in the Christmas pictures with bedhead and no makeup. In my family, I made sure I was the one behind the camera.
It’s never too late to start a tradition. Just tell your family, “This year we’re going to try something new…” If it works out and you do it next year, it’s TRADITION!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Cowboy Poetry
Grant County Journal
November 29, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
I never thought I’d be a fan of cowboy music or poetry. Glen Bair changed all that. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you about the cowboy poetry event that took place at White Trail Grange on November 6th, put on by Columbia River Cowboy Heritage Association. Musicians came from all over to perform at this event mostly for the pure joy of sharing since they weren’t paid. Some of them had CDs to sell, like George and Silver from Tampico, Washington. As George said, “They’re not free, but they’re reasonable as hell.” I’m not sure why I thought that was so hilarious; I guess you had to be there. I like their music because it is real. Much of cowboy music and poetry deals with a relationship with horses, land, and the elements. In one of Silver’s poems she talks about “smoothing the wrinkles in my soul.” I love that word picture.
Don Ohlman hails from Burbank, Washington. He sang songs by Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings, easily keeping in the talk/song pattern of cowboy music interspersing his jokes.
The president of Columbia River Cowboy Heritage Association, Keith Anderson of the Pasco area was the next performer. He joked that he plays the banjo, “although not in public.” He recited some traditional cowboy poetry.
Robin Dale, from Walla Walla was dressed in a fabulous outfit. Knee-length leather jacket, hat, and all the trimmings. She is quite the yodeler. One of my favorites pieces was a poem she wrote about her experience of going with her friend to ride horses and realizing she forgot to put her horse in the trailer. I really love the fact that cowboy poets don’t have a problem making fun of themselves.
The last performer Mike and I were able to stay and hear was Glen Bair of Ephrata. The cowboy poetry that really resonates with me are the ones that come from true life experience, which is why I find Glen Bair’s poetry and songs so touching. I invited myself and my sidekick, Mike, over to Glen and RC Bair’s home and had a real treat as we visited with these unpretentious, down-to-earth farmers. I think RC is so talented. I was touched with how every wall in their home told a story of family. Above the fireplace was a beautiful framed work of heirloom Hardanger lace made by RC’s Danish grandmother. On another wall was a pillow cross-stitched with ‘My Family Tree is Full of Nuts.” But it was the bedroom doors that told the real story. Glen and RC raised 9 children, five boys and four girls, who now range in age from 19 to 39. On the bedroom doors, the children were able to choose how to decorate them, and they are painted by either them or RC. That told me that RC is the muse of the family who nurtured the creative abilities of her children. Many of them are exceptional artists. RC quilts, she cans fruit, she takes wonderful photographs and keeps scrapbooks. Someone once told Glen that she would trade her first-born son for a loaf of RC’s bread. Glen didn’t even know he was talented until he was almost 40 years old, and it was RC who encouraged him to find out. She dared him to “write some real poetry” after he wrote a poem RC didn’t much care for. It was over 20 years ago that Glen took RC up on her challenge and decided to write a poem for their upcoming 20th wedding anniversary. He was riding his tractor writing in a little notebook. This is the beginning of RC’s song:
“Worth It All”
20 years have come and gone since we tied the knot, and I made you my wife.
We didn’t know what time would bring, but said let’s work it out together all our life.
There have been broken hearts and tears of joy, both happiness and pain we shared along the way
And looking back it has been worth it all--I love you more than all the words I know can say. (Songs of Life CD)
As he was riding his tractor and writing the words, he began to hear music in his head. He didn’t know much about music, so he turned to his friend Nadine Adams (I believe it was her first-born son who was up for grabs for a loaf of bread). Nadine helped Glen put the poem to music and it grew from there. He attended a Cowboy Poetry event in Pendleton, Oregon and “fell in love.” Glen now has two CDs, “Songs of Life,” and “The Smell of Hay,” as well as five books of poetry. The bio on his CD says: “Glen has performed at numerous cowboy poetry gatherings around the Northwest. He once opened for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band at the Grant County Fair: ‘I got $150, they got $15,000’, he says with a smile.” Glen does not take himself too seriously, and I am not even sure he realizes how talented he is. His music and poetry come from events that have taken place in his busy life. As Glen says, “When they come from in here,” pointing to his heart, “they are the best.” One of Glen’s favorites is “Through My Office Window.” Here’s a sample, midway through the poem:
To see that big orange harvest moon
And to watch the big dipper turn,
Is somehow worth more than the money
That those Wall Street people earn.
The ending paragraph reads:
But suffice it to say, I’m sure thankful
That my window is the sky.
So, I’ll deal with the work and the stress—I hope,
Till the day that I lay down and die.
Glen has spent almost 40 years farming hay, corn, wheat, beans and peas. He also farmed potatoes for a large manufacturer. After 38 years of growing potatoes, Glen got a letter telling him an executive decision led to cutting out all the small farmers. “I worked for them for 38 years and didn’t even get a gold watch,” Glen said with a wry smile. There’s a poem in there, Glen. I can just feel it.
November 29, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
I never thought I’d be a fan of cowboy music or poetry. Glen Bair changed all that. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you about the cowboy poetry event that took place at White Trail Grange on November 6th, put on by Columbia River Cowboy Heritage Association. Musicians came from all over to perform at this event mostly for the pure joy of sharing since they weren’t paid. Some of them had CDs to sell, like George and Silver from Tampico, Washington. As George said, “They’re not free, but they’re reasonable as hell.” I’m not sure why I thought that was so hilarious; I guess you had to be there. I like their music because it is real. Much of cowboy music and poetry deals with a relationship with horses, land, and the elements. In one of Silver’s poems she talks about “smoothing the wrinkles in my soul.” I love that word picture.
Don Ohlman hails from Burbank, Washington. He sang songs by Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings, easily keeping in the talk/song pattern of cowboy music interspersing his jokes.
The president of Columbia River Cowboy Heritage Association, Keith Anderson of the Pasco area was the next performer. He joked that he plays the banjo, “although not in public.” He recited some traditional cowboy poetry.
Robin Dale, from Walla Walla was dressed in a fabulous outfit. Knee-length leather jacket, hat, and all the trimmings. She is quite the yodeler. One of my favorites pieces was a poem she wrote about her experience of going with her friend to ride horses and realizing she forgot to put her horse in the trailer. I really love the fact that cowboy poets don’t have a problem making fun of themselves.
The last performer Mike and I were able to stay and hear was Glen Bair of Ephrata. The cowboy poetry that really resonates with me are the ones that come from true life experience, which is why I find Glen Bair’s poetry and songs so touching. I invited myself and my sidekick, Mike, over to Glen and RC Bair’s home and had a real treat as we visited with these unpretentious, down-to-earth farmers. I think RC is so talented. I was touched with how every wall in their home told a story of family. Above the fireplace was a beautiful framed work of heirloom Hardanger lace made by RC’s Danish grandmother. On another wall was a pillow cross-stitched with ‘My Family Tree is Full of Nuts.” But it was the bedroom doors that told the real story. Glen and RC raised 9 children, five boys and four girls, who now range in age from 19 to 39. On the bedroom doors, the children were able to choose how to decorate them, and they are painted by either them or RC. That told me that RC is the muse of the family who nurtured the creative abilities of her children. Many of them are exceptional artists. RC quilts, she cans fruit, she takes wonderful photographs and keeps scrapbooks. Someone once told Glen that she would trade her first-born son for a loaf of RC’s bread. Glen didn’t even know he was talented until he was almost 40 years old, and it was RC who encouraged him to find out. She dared him to “write some real poetry” after he wrote a poem RC didn’t much care for. It was over 20 years ago that Glen took RC up on her challenge and decided to write a poem for their upcoming 20th wedding anniversary. He was riding his tractor writing in a little notebook. This is the beginning of RC’s song:
“Worth It All”
20 years have come and gone since we tied the knot, and I made you my wife.
We didn’t know what time would bring, but said let’s work it out together all our life.
There have been broken hearts and tears of joy, both happiness and pain we shared along the way
And looking back it has been worth it all--I love you more than all the words I know can say. (Songs of Life CD)
As he was riding his tractor and writing the words, he began to hear music in his head. He didn’t know much about music, so he turned to his friend Nadine Adams (I believe it was her first-born son who was up for grabs for a loaf of bread). Nadine helped Glen put the poem to music and it grew from there. He attended a Cowboy Poetry event in Pendleton, Oregon and “fell in love.” Glen now has two CDs, “Songs of Life,” and “The Smell of Hay,” as well as five books of poetry. The bio on his CD says: “Glen has performed at numerous cowboy poetry gatherings around the Northwest. He once opened for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band at the Grant County Fair: ‘I got $150, they got $15,000’, he says with a smile.” Glen does not take himself too seriously, and I am not even sure he realizes how talented he is. His music and poetry come from events that have taken place in his busy life. As Glen says, “When they come from in here,” pointing to his heart, “they are the best.” One of Glen’s favorites is “Through My Office Window.” Here’s a sample, midway through the poem:
To see that big orange harvest moon
And to watch the big dipper turn,
Is somehow worth more than the money
That those Wall Street people earn.
The ending paragraph reads:
But suffice it to say, I’m sure thankful
That my window is the sky.
So, I’ll deal with the work and the stress—I hope,
Till the day that I lay down and die.
Glen has spent almost 40 years farming hay, corn, wheat, beans and peas. He also farmed potatoes for a large manufacturer. After 38 years of growing potatoes, Glen got a letter telling him an executive decision led to cutting out all the small farmers. “I worked for them for 38 years and didn’t even get a gold watch,” Glen said with a wry smile. There’s a poem in there, Glen. I can just feel it.
Thanksgiving
Grant County Journal
November 22, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
A couple of weeks ago, I attended a Rotary meeting as a guest. Mike wasn’t sure who the speaker would be, but the topic turned out to be a very fitting subject for my Thanksgiving column.
Emily Wu, who now lives in Moses Lake, is the author of the book “Feather in the Storm.” It is a memoir about her 19 years of experience growing up in the chaos of China’s Great Leap Forward and Cultural Revolution. After I heard her speak at Rotary, I googled her and read some reviews on her book. Many people were asking what happened to Emily Wu and her family. On the dust jacket of the book, her author’s bio states that she lives with her two children in Cupertino, California. But we know the rest of the story. She now lives in Moses Lake and she told us that her parents and brothers got out of China and are now in the United States. They all survived the Chaos, which is a miracle given her story.
Let me share with you a couple of stories Emily told the Rotarians. She met her father for the first time on her third birthday. He was sent to prison before she was born for no apparent reason other than he taught English literature in Beijing. Many professors were arrested and killed during the Revolution. Emily said her family was considered wealthy which meant “that we had two pair of pants instead of the one that most others had.” At one point both of her parents were in prison, so Emily and her brother were sent to a place where other displaced children were kept until their parents were released. One of the moving stories Emily told us was about the time her brother defecated at night, so the caretakers determined he could no longer eat dinner. As her brother was crying for food, Emily put a small dab of toothpaste on her finger and asked him to shut his eyes. Then she told him she had some candy for him. Her brother was so trusting that he believed her as he licked her finger. These gentle acts of kindness amid so much evil and terror are what make Emily Wu’s story so compelling. Emily looked out at all of us in the audience and told us that the lunch we had just eaten would have been a feast for days for her when she was a child. When her own children would complain that “there was nothing good to eat,” Emily had to shake her head as she remembered her days of starvation when she was their age.
Rotary has a ritual they hold at the beginning of every meeting. They pass a jar around and everyone puts in a “buck” for each thing they share that they are thankful for. Not only does this raise money for the group, it also gets the members realizing how much they have to be grateful for. I decided I would share with you some of the things I am thankful for. Here’s five bucks worth, in no particular order:
1. I am grateful for parents who taught me. My mother taught me to lose myself by serving other people. My father taught me to love my country, to be honest, and to cherish integrity, above all else.
2. I am grateful I have the opportunity to write this column. It has given me the chance to get to know people I normally would not even meet. To many people’s surprise, I am reserved and it is not in my nature to sit down next to strangers at a football game and start asking them questions. Jeff Fletcher, publisher of the Grant County Journal, took me out of the stalker category and gave me legitimacy to learn about the people of Ephrata. He only asked one thing: That this column be about my experiences and not about my husband’s job. I promised him I would do my best, but that Mike is a big part of my life and I would sometimes share with the community things about him, not as the Police Chief, but as my husband.
3. I am grateful for my husband. He embodies everything my mother and father taught me, plus more. He is, by far, the most wonderful man I have ever had the privilege of knowing. However; we have only been married for four years, so that could change. Another thing my mother taught me…always keep ‘em on their toes.
4. I am grateful for the privilege of being a mother and a grandmother. I learned patience, tolerance, and not to worry about the small things when raising my children. I tried to let my children learn from their own mistakes even when it tore me up to be on the sidelines. From my grandchildren I learned that they are so much more fun than their parents ever were.
5. Last, but certainly not least, I am grateful for my faith. I have lived by the same set of standards since I was nine years old and have learned I must constantly work at doing what I know is right. I am so grateful to live in a country where I can practice my religion with no fear of retribution from the government. It is no coincidence I am here in Ephrata because I have been led by the hand of God. As a great man once said, “If life gets too hard to stand, kneel.” I kneel a lot.
As you are sitting around the table on Thanksgiving Day, before you dig into Aunt Sara’s sausage pear stuffing, go around the table and have everyone throw a couple of bucks into the jar. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
November 22, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
A couple of weeks ago, I attended a Rotary meeting as a guest. Mike wasn’t sure who the speaker would be, but the topic turned out to be a very fitting subject for my Thanksgiving column.
Emily Wu, who now lives in Moses Lake, is the author of the book “Feather in the Storm.” It is a memoir about her 19 years of experience growing up in the chaos of China’s Great Leap Forward and Cultural Revolution. After I heard her speak at Rotary, I googled her and read some reviews on her book. Many people were asking what happened to Emily Wu and her family. On the dust jacket of the book, her author’s bio states that she lives with her two children in Cupertino, California. But we know the rest of the story. She now lives in Moses Lake and she told us that her parents and brothers got out of China and are now in the United States. They all survived the Chaos, which is a miracle given her story.
Let me share with you a couple of stories Emily told the Rotarians. She met her father for the first time on her third birthday. He was sent to prison before she was born for no apparent reason other than he taught English literature in Beijing. Many professors were arrested and killed during the Revolution. Emily said her family was considered wealthy which meant “that we had two pair of pants instead of the one that most others had.” At one point both of her parents were in prison, so Emily and her brother were sent to a place where other displaced children were kept until their parents were released. One of the moving stories Emily told us was about the time her brother defecated at night, so the caretakers determined he could no longer eat dinner. As her brother was crying for food, Emily put a small dab of toothpaste on her finger and asked him to shut his eyes. Then she told him she had some candy for him. Her brother was so trusting that he believed her as he licked her finger. These gentle acts of kindness amid so much evil and terror are what make Emily Wu’s story so compelling. Emily looked out at all of us in the audience and told us that the lunch we had just eaten would have been a feast for days for her when she was a child. When her own children would complain that “there was nothing good to eat,” Emily had to shake her head as she remembered her days of starvation when she was their age.
Rotary has a ritual they hold at the beginning of every meeting. They pass a jar around and everyone puts in a “buck” for each thing they share that they are thankful for. Not only does this raise money for the group, it also gets the members realizing how much they have to be grateful for. I decided I would share with you some of the things I am thankful for. Here’s five bucks worth, in no particular order:
1. I am grateful for parents who taught me. My mother taught me to lose myself by serving other people. My father taught me to love my country, to be honest, and to cherish integrity, above all else.
2. I am grateful I have the opportunity to write this column. It has given me the chance to get to know people I normally would not even meet. To many people’s surprise, I am reserved and it is not in my nature to sit down next to strangers at a football game and start asking them questions. Jeff Fletcher, publisher of the Grant County Journal, took me out of the stalker category and gave me legitimacy to learn about the people of Ephrata. He only asked one thing: That this column be about my experiences and not about my husband’s job. I promised him I would do my best, but that Mike is a big part of my life and I would sometimes share with the community things about him, not as the Police Chief, but as my husband.
3. I am grateful for my husband. He embodies everything my mother and father taught me, plus more. He is, by far, the most wonderful man I have ever had the privilege of knowing. However; we have only been married for four years, so that could change. Another thing my mother taught me…always keep ‘em on their toes.
4. I am grateful for the privilege of being a mother and a grandmother. I learned patience, tolerance, and not to worry about the small things when raising my children. I tried to let my children learn from their own mistakes even when it tore me up to be on the sidelines. From my grandchildren I learned that they are so much more fun than their parents ever were.
5. Last, but certainly not least, I am grateful for my faith. I have lived by the same set of standards since I was nine years old and have learned I must constantly work at doing what I know is right. I am so grateful to live in a country where I can practice my religion with no fear of retribution from the government. It is no coincidence I am here in Ephrata because I have been led by the hand of God. As a great man once said, “If life gets too hard to stand, kneel.” I kneel a lot.
As you are sitting around the table on Thanksgiving Day, before you dig into Aunt Sara’s sausage pear stuffing, go around the table and have everyone throw a couple of bucks into the jar. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Women's Suffrage
Grant County Journal
November 15, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
I have gone out into the community to meet people, and I know I shouldn’t be surprised to find there are a lot of families who are related to each other. Some of those connections you aren’t too willing to admit to. In a big city you take a shot in the dark when you ask if a person knows “so-and-so,” but when I ask people in Ephrata, a lightbulb turns on as I am informed of the connections. Sometimes I think Mike and I are the only ones who don’t have family here, and I have to admit I’m a little jealous. My biggest problem with Ephrata is that I have to drive two hours to get on an airplane to go and visit my family. If my family lived close by, I think Ephrata might be a utopia. Umm…maybe throw in a Kohls.
Last week I got an email from Beverly Mayer telling me about a presentation she was going to make later that day at the HCE (Home and Community Educators) which is sponsored by the Washington State University Extension. She apologized for the late notice, thinking I wouldn’t be able to come. Sometimes those last-minute things fit in my schedule better than a planned one. I happened to be free, so I went on over to the Country Deli where the HCE holds their meetings. A few weeks ago, I had the Grant County Journal print me some business cards because I was afraid if I showed up at a gathering without a proper introduction, I might get thrown out. That hasn’t been the case, and I haven’t been accused of stalking yet.
Marlene Albee, who is the reporter for HCE, spoke to me about the purposes of their group. It was started by Billie Jean Waud around 1980. “Any woman is encouraged to come to learn with us and be curious about this modern world,” Marlene said. Most of the members are retired women from all professions. They get together and discuss timely matters. The subjects studied are varied and include writing wills, telephone fraud, legislative issues, and personal development. Recently, a speaker from Horizon Credit Union in Spokane talked to the group about reverse mortgages and how to maneuver through tight economic times. HCE holds a raffle every meeting for hostess gifts. From these proceeds, they give an “enabling” scholarship through Big Bend Community College to a woman who is re-emerging on the education scene. This year, they hope to be able to give two scholarships.
Christy Price, a WSU faculty member, is a family and consumer science director and diabetic education instructor. She lives in Ephrata and is a great resource for the group and full of ideas for them to use. They also draw on other local people like Beverly Mayer who speak on subjects of interest.
Beverly Mayer, I found out, is a talented seamstress. In 2004 she created 32 authentic costumes for a program, “Songs of the Journey,” celebrating the 200th anniversary of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. It was presented by the Grant Singers of Ephrata’s Grant Elementary School. Her grandsons Hunter and Garner got their grandma involved, and in true Beverly-style she went the extra mile.
Beverly is also an author and she presented me with a copy of her book, “Prairie Roses—A tribute to the pioneering women of Washington’s Big Bend Country 1899-1919.” It is a beautiful book with photos of the early days. It was fun for me to read about the history and see pictures of settlers. It also made me more aware of how deeply rooted in Ephrata some of you are. She arrived for her talk at the HCE dressed in period-style clothing and gave a moving presentation on women’s suffrage. Having passion for things in our lives makes us more interesting people, and Bev is awesome!
November is the 100th anniversary of the passage of the Fifth Amendment to the Washington State Constitution which took out the word “male” from the clause related to voting requirements. Official adoption was signed by Governor Hay on November 28, 1910. It took another ten years before the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution was passed. It states simply: “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or any State on account of sex.”
I was in the second batch of 18-year-olds that was able to vote for president. I didn’t understand why young men could be drafted for war, yet they were not allowed to vote for the person making the decisions. Looking at the women’s suffrage movement through 21st century eyes, it is hard to believe women had to fight so hard to earn this right. In Beverly’s presentation, I learned that in 1909, Mrs. Winifred Stanley of Wilson Creek was a leader in the Ephrata Suffrage League. The Grant County Journal ran an editorial by the League, in which one of the sentiments was “women are compelled to stand idly by while men, with brains the size of peas, are allowed to vote.” I think Wini and I could have been friends. And kudos to Grant County Journal for not censoring what was most likely an unpopular view. A Seattle newspaper announced “Women of the State Get the Ballot by Gift of Men!” As Beverly declared, “I don’t think so. Washington women won permanent equal suffrage only after a long and grueling campaign lasting over 50 years. Freedom to vote came as a ‘triumph’ not as a gift.”
I am pleased to say I have never missed an opportunity to vote. Susan B. Anthony would be proud.
(cartoon)
Susan B. Anthony, referred to as “The GreatGeneral,” was the victim of ridicule by men,including satirical cartoons and newspaper attacks.
November 15, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
I have gone out into the community to meet people, and I know I shouldn’t be surprised to find there are a lot of families who are related to each other. Some of those connections you aren’t too willing to admit to. In a big city you take a shot in the dark when you ask if a person knows “so-and-so,” but when I ask people in Ephrata, a lightbulb turns on as I am informed of the connections. Sometimes I think Mike and I are the only ones who don’t have family here, and I have to admit I’m a little jealous. My biggest problem with Ephrata is that I have to drive two hours to get on an airplane to go and visit my family. If my family lived close by, I think Ephrata might be a utopia. Umm…maybe throw in a Kohls.
Last week I got an email from Beverly Mayer telling me about a presentation she was going to make later that day at the HCE (Home and Community Educators) which is sponsored by the Washington State University Extension. She apologized for the late notice, thinking I wouldn’t be able to come. Sometimes those last-minute things fit in my schedule better than a planned one. I happened to be free, so I went on over to the Country Deli where the HCE holds their meetings. A few weeks ago, I had the Grant County Journal print me some business cards because I was afraid if I showed up at a gathering without a proper introduction, I might get thrown out. That hasn’t been the case, and I haven’t been accused of stalking yet.
Marlene Albee, who is the reporter for HCE, spoke to me about the purposes of their group. It was started by Billie Jean Waud around 1980. “Any woman is encouraged to come to learn with us and be curious about this modern world,” Marlene said. Most of the members are retired women from all professions. They get together and discuss timely matters. The subjects studied are varied and include writing wills, telephone fraud, legislative issues, and personal development. Recently, a speaker from Horizon Credit Union in Spokane talked to the group about reverse mortgages and how to maneuver through tight economic times. HCE holds a raffle every meeting for hostess gifts. From these proceeds, they give an “enabling” scholarship through Big Bend Community College to a woman who is re-emerging on the education scene. This year, they hope to be able to give two scholarships.
Christy Price, a WSU faculty member, is a family and consumer science director and diabetic education instructor. She lives in Ephrata and is a great resource for the group and full of ideas for them to use. They also draw on other local people like Beverly Mayer who speak on subjects of interest.
Beverly Mayer, I found out, is a talented seamstress. In 2004 she created 32 authentic costumes for a program, “Songs of the Journey,” celebrating the 200th anniversary of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. It was presented by the Grant Singers of Ephrata’s Grant Elementary School. Her grandsons Hunter and Garner got their grandma involved, and in true Beverly-style she went the extra mile.
Beverly is also an author and she presented me with a copy of her book, “Prairie Roses—A tribute to the pioneering women of Washington’s Big Bend Country 1899-1919.” It is a beautiful book with photos of the early days. It was fun for me to read about the history and see pictures of settlers. It also made me more aware of how deeply rooted in Ephrata some of you are. She arrived for her talk at the HCE dressed in period-style clothing and gave a moving presentation on women’s suffrage. Having passion for things in our lives makes us more interesting people, and Bev is awesome!
November is the 100th anniversary of the passage of the Fifth Amendment to the Washington State Constitution which took out the word “male” from the clause related to voting requirements. Official adoption was signed by Governor Hay on November 28, 1910. It took another ten years before the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution was passed. It states simply: “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or any State on account of sex.”
I was in the second batch of 18-year-olds that was able to vote for president. I didn’t understand why young men could be drafted for war, yet they were not allowed to vote for the person making the decisions. Looking at the women’s suffrage movement through 21st century eyes, it is hard to believe women had to fight so hard to earn this right. In Beverly’s presentation, I learned that in 1909, Mrs. Winifred Stanley of Wilson Creek was a leader in the Ephrata Suffrage League. The Grant County Journal ran an editorial by the League, in which one of the sentiments was “women are compelled to stand idly by while men, with brains the size of peas, are allowed to vote.” I think Wini and I could have been friends. And kudos to Grant County Journal for not censoring what was most likely an unpopular view. A Seattle newspaper announced “Women of the State Get the Ballot by Gift of Men!” As Beverly declared, “I don’t think so. Washington women won permanent equal suffrage only after a long and grueling campaign lasting over 50 years. Freedom to vote came as a ‘triumph’ not as a gift.”
I am pleased to say I have never missed an opportunity to vote. Susan B. Anthony would be proud.
(cartoon)
Susan B. Anthony, referred to as “The GreatGeneral,” was the victim of ridicule by men,including satirical cartoons and newspaper attacks.
Civil Air Patrol
Grant County Journal
November 8, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
My grandsons, Seth and Noah, lived in Baltimore, Maryland for a year. Their parents Jenni and Spencer lived there too, but they have accepted the fact that it is all about the grandchildren. If you will recall in your history lessons of bygone years, Baltimore is home to Fort McHenry which is on a peninsula in Baltimore Harbor. During the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key, a lawyer, was negotiating the release of prisoners aboard a British ship. As he was dining with three British officers, he learned of the imminent attack on Fort McHenry. Key was detained so he could not warn the Americans. (Where is a cell phone when you need one?) In the morning, Key saw the battered American flag still flying and he penned the words to a poem entitled “In Defence of Fort McHenry.” The poem was later put to music and renamed “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which became our national anthem.
Grandma Heaton was visiting the twins last summer and they went on a tour of Fort McHenry. They were seated in a theater and at the end of the presentation the curtains opened and a replica of the original 15-star flag was flying overhead. Grandma Heaton taught Seth and Noah, age 2, to stand attentively and place their hands over their hearts. My daughter noticed an elderly gentleman saluting the flag, but no one else in the auditorium showed outward respect for the flag.
A few months later, the twins were visiting my sister, Diane, in New Jersey. They were playing in the yard and all of a sudden they both stopped with their backs toward my sister. Diane thought perhaps they saw a butterfly or a flower, so she approached them. They were standing reverently with their hands on their hearts in front of a small flag Diane had in her garden.
Recently I attended a meeting of the Civil Air Patrol Cadet Program (CAP) in Ephrata where I witnessed the Patrol’s flag ceremony. As I stood there, with my hand over my heart, I thought about my little grandsons. Just like Seth and Noah, these young men and women had been taught to honor their country’s flag. They treated it with respect and stood saluting it. I felt hope and encouragement—feelings that only increased as I learned about their program and met some of the young men involved in it.
Men and women ages 12-18 join the CAP program as cadets. One of the two adult volunteers I met on my recent visit was Colonel Boucher, “Like voucher only with a B as in bogged-down,” he quipped. Colonel Boucher has been with CAP since 1954 and was one of the original people who built the Ephrata facilities in 1971. The other adult, Lieutenant Bonneville, led me on a tour of the facilities and answered my questions. A few of the experiences the Cadet Program offers are survival training, search and rescue, disaster relief, and radio communications. I spoke to three of the Cadets, each from a different age group, and the biggest draw to this program is the flight training.
Airman Jonathan Jones is 13 years old and a student at Ephrata Middle School. His brother got to fly with the CAP program, and Airman Jones has already had an “O (Opportunity) Flight,” where he got to fly in the cockpit with a licensed pilot. According to CAP’s website (GoCivilAirPatrol.com) “CAP owns the largest fleet of single-engine piston aircraft in the nation, primarily Cessna 172s and 182s…They are hangared at strategic locations throughout the nation to be readily available when missions arise.”
Airman Jones wants to attend the Airforce Academy. Lieutenant Bonneville explained, “It is difficult to get an appointment to the Airforce Academy, but rising to the highest rank of cadet officer in the CAP program is of great assistance in acquiring a spot.” Ten percent of all Air Force Academy cadets got their start in CAP.
Airman Mark Deleon is 15 years old and attends Ephrata High School. Airman Deleon told me about attending CAP’s boot camp. He said it is like being in the military but without the physical punishment. Not surprisingly, he also wants to fly planes. He learned of the CAP program through a friend in middle school. He would eventually like to join the military and fly with the elite Top Gun pilots.
Chief Steven Hildebrand joined CAP in December 2008 and has already risen in the ranks to Cadet Chief Master Sergeant, the highest-ranking cadet in the Columbia Basin Composite Squadron at this time. He explained that it takes a two-month waiting period for every promotion and he plans on becoming an officer (Cadet Second Lieutenant) in about a month. When he joined CAP, he mapped out a plan to promote every two months and has held to that goal. Lieutenant Bonneville said Hildebrand will be the first cadet officer they have had in years. Chief Hildebrand is a junior at Ephrata High School and is well on his way to the Air Force Academy where he wants to become an F-22 Fighter Pilot. He told me he joined CAP not only for the flying, but also the opportunities for leadership and to hone his self-discipline.
These three young men are articulate, polite (it was nice to be referred to as ma’am so many times), and goal-oriented. These are the kinds of leaders we need if our goal is to keep America great. I received an e-mail from Lieutenant Ruth Peterson, Lewis County Composite Squadron. She wrote, “The program is fabulous. I have three boys who have been cadets, and it contributed greatly to their abilities to become great leaders.”
Lieutenant Bonneville is retired and spends many volunteer hours working with our Ephrata boys. I asked him why he does it and he replied, “People talk about peer pressure mostly in the negative sense. Here we have positive peer pressure. Cadets leading cadets, learning to lead as well as follow. Helping boys achieve all that they can be is worth it.”
To the cadets of the Columbia Basin Composite Squadron of the Civil Air Patrol, you are our future leaders who can make a difference in the kind of nation that Seth, Noah, and all America’s children grow up in. To you, I cover my heart.
“And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
November 8, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
My grandsons, Seth and Noah, lived in Baltimore, Maryland for a year. Their parents Jenni and Spencer lived there too, but they have accepted the fact that it is all about the grandchildren. If you will recall in your history lessons of bygone years, Baltimore is home to Fort McHenry which is on a peninsula in Baltimore Harbor. During the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key, a lawyer, was negotiating the release of prisoners aboard a British ship. As he was dining with three British officers, he learned of the imminent attack on Fort McHenry. Key was detained so he could not warn the Americans. (Where is a cell phone when you need one?) In the morning, Key saw the battered American flag still flying and he penned the words to a poem entitled “In Defence of Fort McHenry.” The poem was later put to music and renamed “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which became our national anthem.
Grandma Heaton was visiting the twins last summer and they went on a tour of Fort McHenry. They were seated in a theater and at the end of the presentation the curtains opened and a replica of the original 15-star flag was flying overhead. Grandma Heaton taught Seth and Noah, age 2, to stand attentively and place their hands over their hearts. My daughter noticed an elderly gentleman saluting the flag, but no one else in the auditorium showed outward respect for the flag.
A few months later, the twins were visiting my sister, Diane, in New Jersey. They were playing in the yard and all of a sudden they both stopped with their backs toward my sister. Diane thought perhaps they saw a butterfly or a flower, so she approached them. They were standing reverently with their hands on their hearts in front of a small flag Diane had in her garden.
Recently I attended a meeting of the Civil Air Patrol Cadet Program (CAP) in Ephrata where I witnessed the Patrol’s flag ceremony. As I stood there, with my hand over my heart, I thought about my little grandsons. Just like Seth and Noah, these young men and women had been taught to honor their country’s flag. They treated it with respect and stood saluting it. I felt hope and encouragement—feelings that only increased as I learned about their program and met some of the young men involved in it.
Men and women ages 12-18 join the CAP program as cadets. One of the two adult volunteers I met on my recent visit was Colonel Boucher, “Like voucher only with a B as in bogged-down,” he quipped. Colonel Boucher has been with CAP since 1954 and was one of the original people who built the Ephrata facilities in 1971. The other adult, Lieutenant Bonneville, led me on a tour of the facilities and answered my questions. A few of the experiences the Cadet Program offers are survival training, search and rescue, disaster relief, and radio communications. I spoke to three of the Cadets, each from a different age group, and the biggest draw to this program is the flight training.
Airman Jonathan Jones is 13 years old and a student at Ephrata Middle School. His brother got to fly with the CAP program, and Airman Jones has already had an “O (Opportunity) Flight,” where he got to fly in the cockpit with a licensed pilot. According to CAP’s website (GoCivilAirPatrol.com) “CAP owns the largest fleet of single-engine piston aircraft in the nation, primarily Cessna 172s and 182s…They are hangared at strategic locations throughout the nation to be readily available when missions arise.”
Airman Jones wants to attend the Airforce Academy. Lieutenant Bonneville explained, “It is difficult to get an appointment to the Airforce Academy, but rising to the highest rank of cadet officer in the CAP program is of great assistance in acquiring a spot.” Ten percent of all Air Force Academy cadets got their start in CAP.
Airman Mark Deleon is 15 years old and attends Ephrata High School. Airman Deleon told me about attending CAP’s boot camp. He said it is like being in the military but without the physical punishment. Not surprisingly, he also wants to fly planes. He learned of the CAP program through a friend in middle school. He would eventually like to join the military and fly with the elite Top Gun pilots.
Chief Steven Hildebrand joined CAP in December 2008 and has already risen in the ranks to Cadet Chief Master Sergeant, the highest-ranking cadet in the Columbia Basin Composite Squadron at this time. He explained that it takes a two-month waiting period for every promotion and he plans on becoming an officer (Cadet Second Lieutenant) in about a month. When he joined CAP, he mapped out a plan to promote every two months and has held to that goal. Lieutenant Bonneville said Hildebrand will be the first cadet officer they have had in years. Chief Hildebrand is a junior at Ephrata High School and is well on his way to the Air Force Academy where he wants to become an F-22 Fighter Pilot. He told me he joined CAP not only for the flying, but also the opportunities for leadership and to hone his self-discipline.
These three young men are articulate, polite (it was nice to be referred to as ma’am so many times), and goal-oriented. These are the kinds of leaders we need if our goal is to keep America great. I received an e-mail from Lieutenant Ruth Peterson, Lewis County Composite Squadron. She wrote, “The program is fabulous. I have three boys who have been cadets, and it contributed greatly to their abilities to become great leaders.”
Lieutenant Bonneville is retired and spends many volunteer hours working with our Ephrata boys. I asked him why he does it and he replied, “People talk about peer pressure mostly in the negative sense. Here we have positive peer pressure. Cadets leading cadets, learning to lead as well as follow. Helping boys achieve all that they can be is worth it.”
To the cadets of the Columbia Basin Composite Squadron of the Civil Air Patrol, you are our future leaders who can make a difference in the kind of nation that Seth, Noah, and all America’s children grow up in. To you, I cover my heart.
“And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
Breast Cancer Awareness
Grant County Journal
November 1, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
On October 22, my husband sat for 15 minutes while people threw pie in his face. My sister thought they should have thrown them at his chest since; after all, this was a fundraiser for breast cancer research. Thirteen people were good sports and offered their faces for a great cause. Aaron Cummings, Heather Wood, Michelle Webb, Dan Andrews, Ray Towry, Wes Crago, Chris Jacobson, Matt Moore, Denver Morford, Tia Tracey, Tom Jones, Angus Lee, and Mike Warren. Denver Morford squeaked by Wes Crago to earn the top donations of $77.85. Hmm…were the pie throwers friends or enemies? Since the suggested donation was $3 for one pie and $5 for two pies, it was the pocket change that put Denver over the top. Safeway presented him with a plaque. The event was more successful than originally thought, raising $561. October was Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Safeway had a goal of raising $7,444 during the month.
If you men are thinking this is not a column for you, think again while you read these statistics:
“Though far less common than in women, it is possible for men to develop breast cancer. The American Cancer Society estimates that about 2,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer are diagnosed in men each year and approximately 450 men die from breast cancer annually. Male breast cancers account for approximately 1% of all breast cancer cases.” (imaginis.com)
The only person in my family who has had breast cancer to date was my Uncle John. Uncle John is dead; not from breast cancer, which he survived, but from lymphoma which is the cancer that tends to claim lives in my family. Uncle John was in the 1%, but Peggy Grigg is in the 99%. Peggy recently retired as Grant County Health District Administrator. Even though Peggy is a nurse, she got busy raising her children and neglected herself. Doesn’t that sound familiar? In 1999, at the age of 44, some previously undetected lumps were finally big enough to catch her attention and she underwent mastectomies, chemotherapy, and radiation. Cancer is a monster, and I wondered how I could possibly humanize this monster. I found the human aspect in an article that Peggy’s youngest son, Damon Chlarson, wrote last year for the Ephrata High School newspaper entitled “My Mother’s Story: How I survived her cancer.” Damon tells of his struggle eleven years ago through six-year-old eyes. “I thought cancer was an incurable case of death…thinking time was slowly shutting my mother’s coffin.” Damon said his family pulled together and he became especially close to his sister Marlys. “Above all, I remember spending time with my mom, one on one. I felt it was my last chance to be with her, so I stayed close. I remember watching a lot of crappy TV and eating cereal, soaking in her last days.” Peggy remembers some very happy moments of being able to spend more time with her children as she was battling cancer. Marlys took a week off of school and took care of her mom after her operation. There was laughter and love in their home even though Damon may not have understood what was going on. After Damon found out his mom was going to be fine and live a normal life, he said, “I had an overwhelming feeling of relief. I felt like God answered my prayers. My family had taken on a new trust in God, though we were already a religious family.”
There is an old saying that there are no atheists in foxholes. I can’t say if that is true in all cases, but the women I spoke to felt their faith in God got stronger as they crouched in their foxholes, staring down a life-threatening illness. Perhaps some shake their fists at God, but Peggy said she was never mad at God--she was mad at herself for not finding her lumps sooner. Peggy has been cancer-free for 11 years, and although she still has some residual problems, life is good for her.
Mary Nelson is battling the monster right now. I wanted to talk to Mary because whenever I see her, she has a very positive attitude about her cancer. I wonder sometimes how I would react to such news, but I hope it would be like Mary. “I decided if I had a positive attitude, it would help my kids get through it,” Mary said. Mary has three adult children, two daughters and a son. A few weeks into the chemo, as Mary began to lose her hair, one of her daughters came over to shave her mom’s head. It made it much easier for her daughter when Mary started joking and laughing about it. Mary caught her cancer early, but it is an aggressive kind of cancer which takes an aggressive method of treatment. She will require six chemotherapy treatments and she is now at the half-way mark. Her last treatment will be a few days before Christmas. Mary is one of those people who can put a practical face on crisis and accept that it is what it is. “I realized I was going to have to fight this,” said Mary, “and prayer and reading scriptures has really helped me.” Each chemo treatment has had different side effects and Mary says she listens to her body and has learned what it needs in order to deal with her cancer more effectively.
Both Mary and Peggy agree that early detection is the key. Do your self-exams and get regular mammograms. I had my annual mammogram last week and it really wasn’t that big of a deal. I was in and out within a half hour. That’s a small price to pay to help detect cancer. And men…you are not off the hook. Any suspicious lump should be checked out, no matter where it is on your body.
At the time of my interview, Safeway had achieved 85 percent of their $7,444 goal. A bake sale and the “Pump for the Cure” where Ephrata High School cheerleaders pumped gas for donations, along with continued donations from the community put them almost $1,000 over their goal for a grand total of $8,421.97.
Some of the employees at the Ephrata Safeway have expended a lot of energy during October to raise money for breast cancer research. Fran Putnam, Kayla Gingrich, Nathan Arlantico and Kemi Gray put in countless hours to organize events. As interim store manager, Bruce Gamboa said, “The people of Ephrata are the ones who made it work, but the employees made it fun.”
November 1, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal columnist
On October 22, my husband sat for 15 minutes while people threw pie in his face. My sister thought they should have thrown them at his chest since; after all, this was a fundraiser for breast cancer research. Thirteen people were good sports and offered their faces for a great cause. Aaron Cummings, Heather Wood, Michelle Webb, Dan Andrews, Ray Towry, Wes Crago, Chris Jacobson, Matt Moore, Denver Morford, Tia Tracey, Tom Jones, Angus Lee, and Mike Warren. Denver Morford squeaked by Wes Crago to earn the top donations of $77.85. Hmm…were the pie throwers friends or enemies? Since the suggested donation was $3 for one pie and $5 for two pies, it was the pocket change that put Denver over the top. Safeway presented him with a plaque. The event was more successful than originally thought, raising $561. October was Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Safeway had a goal of raising $7,444 during the month.
If you men are thinking this is not a column for you, think again while you read these statistics:
“Though far less common than in women, it is possible for men to develop breast cancer. The American Cancer Society estimates that about 2,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer are diagnosed in men each year and approximately 450 men die from breast cancer annually. Male breast cancers account for approximately 1% of all breast cancer cases.” (imaginis.com)
The only person in my family who has had breast cancer to date was my Uncle John. Uncle John is dead; not from breast cancer, which he survived, but from lymphoma which is the cancer that tends to claim lives in my family. Uncle John was in the 1%, but Peggy Grigg is in the 99%. Peggy recently retired as Grant County Health District Administrator. Even though Peggy is a nurse, she got busy raising her children and neglected herself. Doesn’t that sound familiar? In 1999, at the age of 44, some previously undetected lumps were finally big enough to catch her attention and she underwent mastectomies, chemotherapy, and radiation. Cancer is a monster, and I wondered how I could possibly humanize this monster. I found the human aspect in an article that Peggy’s youngest son, Damon Chlarson, wrote last year for the Ephrata High School newspaper entitled “My Mother’s Story: How I survived her cancer.” Damon tells of his struggle eleven years ago through six-year-old eyes. “I thought cancer was an incurable case of death…thinking time was slowly shutting my mother’s coffin.” Damon said his family pulled together and he became especially close to his sister Marlys. “Above all, I remember spending time with my mom, one on one. I felt it was my last chance to be with her, so I stayed close. I remember watching a lot of crappy TV and eating cereal, soaking in her last days.” Peggy remembers some very happy moments of being able to spend more time with her children as she was battling cancer. Marlys took a week off of school and took care of her mom after her operation. There was laughter and love in their home even though Damon may not have understood what was going on. After Damon found out his mom was going to be fine and live a normal life, he said, “I had an overwhelming feeling of relief. I felt like God answered my prayers. My family had taken on a new trust in God, though we were already a religious family.”
There is an old saying that there are no atheists in foxholes. I can’t say if that is true in all cases, but the women I spoke to felt their faith in God got stronger as they crouched in their foxholes, staring down a life-threatening illness. Perhaps some shake their fists at God, but Peggy said she was never mad at God--she was mad at herself for not finding her lumps sooner. Peggy has been cancer-free for 11 years, and although she still has some residual problems, life is good for her.
Mary Nelson is battling the monster right now. I wanted to talk to Mary because whenever I see her, she has a very positive attitude about her cancer. I wonder sometimes how I would react to such news, but I hope it would be like Mary. “I decided if I had a positive attitude, it would help my kids get through it,” Mary said. Mary has three adult children, two daughters and a son. A few weeks into the chemo, as Mary began to lose her hair, one of her daughters came over to shave her mom’s head. It made it much easier for her daughter when Mary started joking and laughing about it. Mary caught her cancer early, but it is an aggressive kind of cancer which takes an aggressive method of treatment. She will require six chemotherapy treatments and she is now at the half-way mark. Her last treatment will be a few days before Christmas. Mary is one of those people who can put a practical face on crisis and accept that it is what it is. “I realized I was going to have to fight this,” said Mary, “and prayer and reading scriptures has really helped me.” Each chemo treatment has had different side effects and Mary says she listens to her body and has learned what it needs in order to deal with her cancer more effectively.
Both Mary and Peggy agree that early detection is the key. Do your self-exams and get regular mammograms. I had my annual mammogram last week and it really wasn’t that big of a deal. I was in and out within a half hour. That’s a small price to pay to help detect cancer. And men…you are not off the hook. Any suspicious lump should be checked out, no matter where it is on your body.
At the time of my interview, Safeway had achieved 85 percent of their $7,444 goal. A bake sale and the “Pump for the Cure” where Ephrata High School cheerleaders pumped gas for donations, along with continued donations from the community put them almost $1,000 over their goal for a grand total of $8,421.97.
Some of the employees at the Ephrata Safeway have expended a lot of energy during October to raise money for breast cancer research. Fran Putnam, Kayla Gingrich, Nathan Arlantico and Kemi Gray put in countless hours to organize events. As interim store manager, Bruce Gamboa said, “The people of Ephrata are the ones who made it work, but the employees made it fun.”
Halloween
Grant County Journal
October 25, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
My father bought an RV when I was in high school. His advice for driving on the interstate was this: “Get in the middle lane as soon as you can and just keep driving.” Although I doubt I will ever drive an RV, I have used my dad’s advice as an analogy for my life. I pretty much stay in the middle lane, sometimes changing over to the right, and occasionally veering off to the left. I find myself on middle ground quite often, even on the subject of Halloween. Can I just say that I love Halloween? I like decorating the house, making frosted pumpkin sugar cookies, and serving dinner on Halloween paper plates. I like gutting a pumpkin and carving it. I am a sucker for marketing ploys using color so I always buy black and orange m&m’s in October. This year I tried to get into the mood for Halloween by reading a Stephen King novel since I’ve never read one before. I couldn’t do it. I like creepy, but not as creepy as King can get. I do love macabre literature like the Tell-Tale Heart (Edgar Allan Poe), A Rose for Emily (William Faulkner) and the greatest ghost story of all time, Hamlet (William Shakespeare). You’ll never catch me watching a gory “slash-and-dash” horror movie; I prefer my creepy toned down with a little something left to the imagination. I’m more apt to watch an Alfred Hitchcock or Harry Potter movie the week before Halloween. Since I am fairly confidant the slasher movie watchers aren’t the ones reading my column, the only people I stand to offend this week are those who look at Halloween as a pagan holiday. For me Halloween is a fun, imaginative and amusing celebration, nothing more.
I had a difficult time getting into the spirit of Halloween this year because I began writing this column in Phoenix where I was visiting my twin grandsons, Seth and Noah. They are two-and-a-half years old and think that both their grandmas live at the Phoenix airport. I’m not sure if the reason I couldn’t get in the Halloween mood was because it was 90 degrees outside or because I couldn’t find any black and orange m&m’s. I actually got on the website for the company that makes m&m’s and although they have an autumn-color mix this year, there is no Halloween mix. I’m so upset. They can be custom ordered, but I’m not sad enough to have $50 worth of orange and black m&m’s in my home.
My Halloween frame of mind began to change when I got back to Ephrata, because apparently during the six days I was in 90- degree weather, you had a cold snap. That little trick of nature gave me a treat of some beautiful autumn colors when I arrived home to Ephrata. I also had a call from Freida Sebok, who lives at the Basin Retirement Home. She wanted to tell me about the Halloween decorations one of the caregivers put up this year. I dropped in on Freida to see for myself and to talk to Connie Rouse, the person responsible for all this festivity. Connie said, “This is the third year I have decorated for Halloween, but this year I decided to do it up big.” While she was putting up the decorations, a crowd gathered to offer suggestions and direction. “Everybody had a ball,” Connie added. Freida commented, “We think it’s wonderful. This year we will let the children come in on Halloween night to look at the decorations. Halloween is a favorite holiday for all of us.” But it doesn’t stop at decorations for Connie Rouse. She also dresses up in costume and brings cupcakes on Halloween decorated with werewolves and other spooky things that go bump in the night. I think Connie knows the true meaning of caregiver.
Here’s a bit of Halloween trivia for you. The Jack O’Lantern stems from an old Irish myth concerning the devil and a man nicknamed Stingy Jack. The shortened version is that Jack double-crosses the devil. When Jack dies he isn’t allowed into heaven, since he is quite an unsavory fellow, and the devil won’t let him into hell either. All the devil gives him is a smoldering coal which Jack puts in a hollowed-out turnip to light his way as he wanders the earth, doomed for all eternity. He was known as Jack o’ the Lantern which later was shortened to Jack O’Lantern. In Irish tradition, potatoes or turnips were hollowed out and carved with a scary face and then a candle was placed in them to ward off Stingy Jack on All Hallows Eve. In England, large beets were used. When people immigrated to America, they brought their tradition with them, but found the pumpkin much better suited for a lantern.
There are some community events planned for Halloween. The downtown merchants will have trick-or-treating from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. on Friday, October 29th. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has their annual trunk-or-treat on Saturday, October 30th, beginning at 6 p.m. The public is invited. For safety, the parking lot will be cordoned off at 5:45 and only those giving out treats will be allowed to park in the lot. Others need to park on the street. As far as the regular trick-or-treating, it will be on Sunday, Halloween Night. Be sure to include the Basin Retirement Home across from the PUD on your trick-or-treat route so you can see the decorations!
Here’s a little Shakespeare to get you in the Halloween mood:
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Bwahahaha.
October 25, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
My father bought an RV when I was in high school. His advice for driving on the interstate was this: “Get in the middle lane as soon as you can and just keep driving.” Although I doubt I will ever drive an RV, I have used my dad’s advice as an analogy for my life. I pretty much stay in the middle lane, sometimes changing over to the right, and occasionally veering off to the left. I find myself on middle ground quite often, even on the subject of Halloween. Can I just say that I love Halloween? I like decorating the house, making frosted pumpkin sugar cookies, and serving dinner on Halloween paper plates. I like gutting a pumpkin and carving it. I am a sucker for marketing ploys using color so I always buy black and orange m&m’s in October. This year I tried to get into the mood for Halloween by reading a Stephen King novel since I’ve never read one before. I couldn’t do it. I like creepy, but not as creepy as King can get. I do love macabre literature like the Tell-Tale Heart (Edgar Allan Poe), A Rose for Emily (William Faulkner) and the greatest ghost story of all time, Hamlet (William Shakespeare). You’ll never catch me watching a gory “slash-and-dash” horror movie; I prefer my creepy toned down with a little something left to the imagination. I’m more apt to watch an Alfred Hitchcock or Harry Potter movie the week before Halloween. Since I am fairly confidant the slasher movie watchers aren’t the ones reading my column, the only people I stand to offend this week are those who look at Halloween as a pagan holiday. For me Halloween is a fun, imaginative and amusing celebration, nothing more.
I had a difficult time getting into the spirit of Halloween this year because I began writing this column in Phoenix where I was visiting my twin grandsons, Seth and Noah. They are two-and-a-half years old and think that both their grandmas live at the Phoenix airport. I’m not sure if the reason I couldn’t get in the Halloween mood was because it was 90 degrees outside or because I couldn’t find any black and orange m&m’s. I actually got on the website for the company that makes m&m’s and although they have an autumn-color mix this year, there is no Halloween mix. I’m so upset. They can be custom ordered, but I’m not sad enough to have $50 worth of orange and black m&m’s in my home.
My Halloween frame of mind began to change when I got back to Ephrata, because apparently during the six days I was in 90- degree weather, you had a cold snap. That little trick of nature gave me a treat of some beautiful autumn colors when I arrived home to Ephrata. I also had a call from Freida Sebok, who lives at the Basin Retirement Home. She wanted to tell me about the Halloween decorations one of the caregivers put up this year. I dropped in on Freida to see for myself and to talk to Connie Rouse, the person responsible for all this festivity. Connie said, “This is the third year I have decorated for Halloween, but this year I decided to do it up big.” While she was putting up the decorations, a crowd gathered to offer suggestions and direction. “Everybody had a ball,” Connie added. Freida commented, “We think it’s wonderful. This year we will let the children come in on Halloween night to look at the decorations. Halloween is a favorite holiday for all of us.” But it doesn’t stop at decorations for Connie Rouse. She also dresses up in costume and brings cupcakes on Halloween decorated with werewolves and other spooky things that go bump in the night. I think Connie knows the true meaning of caregiver.
Here’s a bit of Halloween trivia for you. The Jack O’Lantern stems from an old Irish myth concerning the devil and a man nicknamed Stingy Jack. The shortened version is that Jack double-crosses the devil. When Jack dies he isn’t allowed into heaven, since he is quite an unsavory fellow, and the devil won’t let him into hell either. All the devil gives him is a smoldering coal which Jack puts in a hollowed-out turnip to light his way as he wanders the earth, doomed for all eternity. He was known as Jack o’ the Lantern which later was shortened to Jack O’Lantern. In Irish tradition, potatoes or turnips were hollowed out and carved with a scary face and then a candle was placed in them to ward off Stingy Jack on All Hallows Eve. In England, large beets were used. When people immigrated to America, they brought their tradition with them, but found the pumpkin much better suited for a lantern.
There are some community events planned for Halloween. The downtown merchants will have trick-or-treating from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. on Friday, October 29th. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has their annual trunk-or-treat on Saturday, October 30th, beginning at 6 p.m. The public is invited. For safety, the parking lot will be cordoned off at 5:45 and only those giving out treats will be allowed to park in the lot. Others need to park on the street. As far as the regular trick-or-treating, it will be on Sunday, Halloween Night. Be sure to include the Basin Retirement Home across from the PUD on your trick-or-treat route so you can see the decorations!
Here’s a little Shakespeare to get you in the Halloween mood:
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Bwahahaha.
Unsung Heroes
Grant County Journal
October 18, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
Elmer Gibson doesn’t drive anymore since he’s 91. Betty Gibson says, “It’s not like when we were younger. Now you just do what you can do.” One of the things the Gibsons can do is walk to McDonalds for a bite to eat and home again. One afternoon in September, as they were walking home, Elmer missed a curb with his walker and fell in a heap on the sidewalk. A woman driving by stopped immediately. Without taking time to park her van, she hopped out and rushed to Elmer’s aid. Another lady, traveling the opposite direction, did the same. Betty said she’s pretty sure the two women didn’t know each other. After assessing injuries, the ladies helped Elmer into the house. Betty was overcome that two strangers would come to her husband’s rescue; she forgot to get their names. If you were the unsung heroes traveling on C and 10th SW, Betty and Elmer thank you.
On October 4th, Mike and I attended a C-squad football game against Quincy. We went to support Nick Quist (#42) whom we refer to as our “adopted son,” considering how much time he spent in our home last summer. With all the attention on the Varsity football team, I figured the C-squad would be a good way to round out my “unsung heroes” column, so I took along a notebook. We went over to the bleachers in the sun where one couple was sitting. “Aha,” I thought. “Nobody is going to come and support these kids.” I asked the couple the name of their son and was told Logan Stanley. Had I lived in Ephrata longer, I would have realized Stanleys are from Quincy before they told me we were sitting on the wrong side. Ephrata fans were in the shade. So we moved, with me grumbling that I didn’t bring a coat.
I am married to a man who has to be early to everything, so there were only a few people over on the Ephrata side. Michelle Derr was there with her video camera set up; I talked to her first. She told me she videotapes every game for her son Dylan (#21). Michelle is involved with a core group of parents who attend all the games, both home and away. People began to trickle into the stands. I had time to speak to one more parent before the game started. My selection process was completely random, mostly based on clumsy navigation of the bleachers. I sat down next to Jana Christensen, mother of Troy (#57). I began to rethink my “unsung heroes” angle after talking to her. “When the C team played Selah, the Varsity team attended and cheered as a group. Afterwards, they formed a tunnel and the freshmen ran through it. There’s a camaraderie I haven’t seen in a couple of years,” said Jana. It was time for the game to start and the stands had a lot of people in them. I sat back to watch but had no idea what was going on. When Nick went in for the first time during the second quarter, I cheered. Yay, Nick. Sorry, crazy sports fans, but it really isn’t about football for me. My favorite sports are the ones my children play. My son James played football for one year in 7th grade, so football was my favorite in 1999.
Finally, half-time rolled around and I talked to some more people. First it was the multi-generational Turnbull family there to support Brice (#56). Wendy Turnbull told me her husband played football for Ephrata High School. Grandma and Grandpa were there too. Grandpa Bill actually played football for Quincy when he was in high school. I asked if he was torn on who to cheer for, but Brice’s aunt, Kendra Barnes, assured me it was Ephrata High School all the way. Kendra said, “This team builds each other up. They praise each other. This has been one of the most team-oriented, positive seasons I have seen.”
I began to talk to another mother, but she took a phone call, so I looked around for someone else to bother. To my surprise, Chris Jacobson was sitting right behind me. Before now, I’ve never lived in a town small enough where I could recognize the mayor. He told me his son Cole (#65) is on the freshman team. Mayor Jacobson said something that I had been hearing from parents all night. “This is a very talented group of kids. They have a lot of potential in not only football, but many different sports.” He also said they tend to show respect and have a sense of citizenship, and added. “ I know sports can help with that, and hopefully some of them rise to leadership positions in the community.”
I came to the conclusion that the freshmen football players are not “unsung heroes.” They are loved and supported by not only their families, but by many members in the community who sing their praises. The real heroes, however, are their parents. Michelle Derr later told me “I can’t count the miles driven to allow my kids to participate in sports and represent the community of Ephrata. If you add all the miles from all the parents that follow and support these kids…is there even a number that high?!” She also reminded me about the wives of the coaches. Michelle said it better than I can: “I talk to Dylan’s coaches a lot, saying thank you as much as I can. However, it’s the wives I feel we all should be thanking. The time their husbands are away, the extra things they are left to do; let’s not forget they are the ones sitting in the stands during a game listening to everyone say ‘why don’t they just do this or that.’ To them I give a big thank you.” Coach Mills agreed that the wives often get overlooked and wanted all of them to know how much their service is appreciated. So, Stephanie Mills, Amy Laird, Bobbi Martin, Kim Crowder, Sara Tempel, Rhonda Ross and Andrea Anderson, thank you from the community.
I found the end to my “unsung heroes” column, but not the conclusion I expected to find. When you sit on the Ephrata side of the bleachers, you can read the slogan that was chosen to grace the stadium…Community Pride. Whether it’s supporting children or spouses in their activities or rescuing an elderly man who has fallen…Community Pride says it all.
You can get in touch with Janet at justsayinephrata@yahoo.com or through Grant County Journal 754-4636.
October 18, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
Elmer Gibson doesn’t drive anymore since he’s 91. Betty Gibson says, “It’s not like when we were younger. Now you just do what you can do.” One of the things the Gibsons can do is walk to McDonalds for a bite to eat and home again. One afternoon in September, as they were walking home, Elmer missed a curb with his walker and fell in a heap on the sidewalk. A woman driving by stopped immediately. Without taking time to park her van, she hopped out and rushed to Elmer’s aid. Another lady, traveling the opposite direction, did the same. Betty said she’s pretty sure the two women didn’t know each other. After assessing injuries, the ladies helped Elmer into the house. Betty was overcome that two strangers would come to her husband’s rescue; she forgot to get their names. If you were the unsung heroes traveling on C and 10th SW, Betty and Elmer thank you.
On October 4th, Mike and I attended a C-squad football game against Quincy. We went to support Nick Quist (#42) whom we refer to as our “adopted son,” considering how much time he spent in our home last summer. With all the attention on the Varsity football team, I figured the C-squad would be a good way to round out my “unsung heroes” column, so I took along a notebook. We went over to the bleachers in the sun where one couple was sitting. “Aha,” I thought. “Nobody is going to come and support these kids.” I asked the couple the name of their son and was told Logan Stanley. Had I lived in Ephrata longer, I would have realized Stanleys are from Quincy before they told me we were sitting on the wrong side. Ephrata fans were in the shade. So we moved, with me grumbling that I didn’t bring a coat.
I am married to a man who has to be early to everything, so there were only a few people over on the Ephrata side. Michelle Derr was there with her video camera set up; I talked to her first. She told me she videotapes every game for her son Dylan (#21). Michelle is involved with a core group of parents who attend all the games, both home and away. People began to trickle into the stands. I had time to speak to one more parent before the game started. My selection process was completely random, mostly based on clumsy navigation of the bleachers. I sat down next to Jana Christensen, mother of Troy (#57). I began to rethink my “unsung heroes” angle after talking to her. “When the C team played Selah, the Varsity team attended and cheered as a group. Afterwards, they formed a tunnel and the freshmen ran through it. There’s a camaraderie I haven’t seen in a couple of years,” said Jana. It was time for the game to start and the stands had a lot of people in them. I sat back to watch but had no idea what was going on. When Nick went in for the first time during the second quarter, I cheered. Yay, Nick. Sorry, crazy sports fans, but it really isn’t about football for me. My favorite sports are the ones my children play. My son James played football for one year in 7th grade, so football was my favorite in 1999.
Finally, half-time rolled around and I talked to some more people. First it was the multi-generational Turnbull family there to support Brice (#56). Wendy Turnbull told me her husband played football for Ephrata High School. Grandma and Grandpa were there too. Grandpa Bill actually played football for Quincy when he was in high school. I asked if he was torn on who to cheer for, but Brice’s aunt, Kendra Barnes, assured me it was Ephrata High School all the way. Kendra said, “This team builds each other up. They praise each other. This has been one of the most team-oriented, positive seasons I have seen.”
I began to talk to another mother, but she took a phone call, so I looked around for someone else to bother. To my surprise, Chris Jacobson was sitting right behind me. Before now, I’ve never lived in a town small enough where I could recognize the mayor. He told me his son Cole (#65) is on the freshman team. Mayor Jacobson said something that I had been hearing from parents all night. “This is a very talented group of kids. They have a lot of potential in not only football, but many different sports.” He also said they tend to show respect and have a sense of citizenship, and added. “ I know sports can help with that, and hopefully some of them rise to leadership positions in the community.”
I came to the conclusion that the freshmen football players are not “unsung heroes.” They are loved and supported by not only their families, but by many members in the community who sing their praises. The real heroes, however, are their parents. Michelle Derr later told me “I can’t count the miles driven to allow my kids to participate in sports and represent the community of Ephrata. If you add all the miles from all the parents that follow and support these kids…is there even a number that high?!” She also reminded me about the wives of the coaches. Michelle said it better than I can: “I talk to Dylan’s coaches a lot, saying thank you as much as I can. However, it’s the wives I feel we all should be thanking. The time their husbands are away, the extra things they are left to do; let’s not forget they are the ones sitting in the stands during a game listening to everyone say ‘why don’t they just do this or that.’ To them I give a big thank you.” Coach Mills agreed that the wives often get overlooked and wanted all of them to know how much their service is appreciated. So, Stephanie Mills, Amy Laird, Bobbi Martin, Kim Crowder, Sara Tempel, Rhonda Ross and Andrea Anderson, thank you from the community.
I found the end to my “unsung heroes” column, but not the conclusion I expected to find. When you sit on the Ephrata side of the bleachers, you can read the slogan that was chosen to grace the stadium…Community Pride. Whether it’s supporting children or spouses in their activities or rescuing an elderly man who has fallen…Community Pride says it all.
You can get in touch with Janet at justsayinephrata@yahoo.com or through Grant County Journal 754-4636.
Fears
Grant County Journal
October 11, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
My niece, Jill, is petrified of birds. Once she was sitting at an outdoor café table and some birds began pecking at crumbs around her feet. Her reaction must have been memorable because a psychologist slipped his card on the table and said, “I can help you with that.” Jill is no silly, empty-headed girl. She is a highly-skilled ICU nurse. She put herself through a bachelor’s degree and then nursing school while working part-time at her own business. She also once called her father to drive from his house in Sparks to her apartment in Reno to remove a bird that had taken up residence on her doorstep. She would have slept in her car all night if my brother, Dave, hadn’t made the 30-minute trip. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jill married Brian in July—her Prince Charming and Protector from Birds.
Admit it—something makes your palms sweat and your heart beat faster. People are afraid of--and I’m not making these up—zombies, finding bugs in berry yogurt, belly buttons, mermaids, windmills, and the concept of time travel. The list is long, and my fears seem tame in comparison. I’m startled easily by someone coming up behind me. Forgetting things makes me uncomfortable because Alzheimer’s runs in both sides of my family. Thank goodness I have a panic button on my key ring so I can find my car in Wal-Mart’s parking lot. I have other fears, but for now I’ll focus on my newest one—trains.
I made some discoveries while I was looking for a place to live in Ephrata. Mike was still working for the Washington State Patrol, so I shared things with him in the evenings when I came home from my house hunting. “Did you know trains run right through the middle of town, Mike?” He did. “Did you know your office is right across the street and the building shakes every time a train goes by?” He did. I chose a house as far away from the trains as we could get without being outside the city limits (a requirement for his job). The train noise startled me.
My friends, Alan and Connie Balciar recently built a house as close to the tracks as one can legally get. Alan said the train bothered him for only two nights after they moved in. Connie is a light sleeper, so she wears earplugs. Their house is well-built, however, and it doesn’t shake. Their daughters, Johanna and Natanya, had some misgivings in living so close to the train tracks, but they have adjusted well and the family has no regrets about building where they did. “In fact,” Connie said, “our neighbors have a little boy who loves the trains. He thinks this is the best place in town to live.” Natanya told me her family stands at the window sometimes and counts cars. “The shortest train had 3 cars and 3 locomotives,” she said, “and the longest was 186 cars with 10 locomotives.”
Johanna is a visual person and enjoys the graffiti on the cars. “Some of it is really pretty—it’s done in neon colors.” At night Johanna and Natanya can get people on Amtrak to wave at them. “It’s a little nostalgic for me,” said Alan. “We used to live in Quincy, and my parents rode Amtrak when they visited. We came to Ephrata to pick them up at the station.” I admire people like the Balciars who can turn something I consider unpleasant into a positive experience.
A few weeks after moving to Ephrata, I was driving home from Wal-Mart. I don’t consider myself irresponsible. I don’t text or even talk on my phone while driving, but I can get distracted by the conversations I have with myself, which obviously is something else I should be afraid of. Suddenly I realize I am driving under one of the arms at the railroad crossing as it is descending on me. The red lights are flashing, the bells are dinging and I am stuck in the middle with a train coming. I panicked. I sat there, as my car shook, scenes from my life passing before my eyes. I also had the alarming thought that someone was going to recognize me and tell the police chief. So after the arms came up, I did the only thing I could think of, which was drive to the police station and turn myself in. No one took me to the Grant County Hotel in handcuffs. However, Loretta, Mike’s administrative assistant, forced me to sit down until I stopped shaking and my face color was restored. Later I returned to the scene of the crime, as we criminals frequently do, and realized I should have at least backed up because I was inches from the train hitting the front of my car. Now my heart beats faster and my palms sweat when I approach a train crossing.
I am slowly getting over my panic, but my experience did leave me with an awesome respect for the power of trains. Now I am very vigilant when crossing the tracks, even if there is no train in sight. My distraction could have had tragic results for me and for my family. It’s always a good thing when we do something stupid and are given the opportunity to learn from it. Perhaps some fears are healthy.
******************************************************************************
Janet can be reached at justsayinephrata@yahoo.com.
October 11, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
My niece, Jill, is petrified of birds. Once she was sitting at an outdoor café table and some birds began pecking at crumbs around her feet. Her reaction must have been memorable because a psychologist slipped his card on the table and said, “I can help you with that.” Jill is no silly, empty-headed girl. She is a highly-skilled ICU nurse. She put herself through a bachelor’s degree and then nursing school while working part-time at her own business. She also once called her father to drive from his house in Sparks to her apartment in Reno to remove a bird that had taken up residence on her doorstep. She would have slept in her car all night if my brother, Dave, hadn’t made the 30-minute trip. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jill married Brian in July—her Prince Charming and Protector from Birds.
Admit it—something makes your palms sweat and your heart beat faster. People are afraid of--and I’m not making these up—zombies, finding bugs in berry yogurt, belly buttons, mermaids, windmills, and the concept of time travel. The list is long, and my fears seem tame in comparison. I’m startled easily by someone coming up behind me. Forgetting things makes me uncomfortable because Alzheimer’s runs in both sides of my family. Thank goodness I have a panic button on my key ring so I can find my car in Wal-Mart’s parking lot. I have other fears, but for now I’ll focus on my newest one—trains.
I made some discoveries while I was looking for a place to live in Ephrata. Mike was still working for the Washington State Patrol, so I shared things with him in the evenings when I came home from my house hunting. “Did you know trains run right through the middle of town, Mike?” He did. “Did you know your office is right across the street and the building shakes every time a train goes by?” He did. I chose a house as far away from the trains as we could get without being outside the city limits (a requirement for his job). The train noise startled me.
My friends, Alan and Connie Balciar recently built a house as close to the tracks as one can legally get. Alan said the train bothered him for only two nights after they moved in. Connie is a light sleeper, so she wears earplugs. Their house is well-built, however, and it doesn’t shake. Their daughters, Johanna and Natanya, had some misgivings in living so close to the train tracks, but they have adjusted well and the family has no regrets about building where they did. “In fact,” Connie said, “our neighbors have a little boy who loves the trains. He thinks this is the best place in town to live.” Natanya told me her family stands at the window sometimes and counts cars. “The shortest train had 3 cars and 3 locomotives,” she said, “and the longest was 186 cars with 10 locomotives.”
Johanna is a visual person and enjoys the graffiti on the cars. “Some of it is really pretty—it’s done in neon colors.” At night Johanna and Natanya can get people on Amtrak to wave at them. “It’s a little nostalgic for me,” said Alan. “We used to live in Quincy, and my parents rode Amtrak when they visited. We came to Ephrata to pick them up at the station.” I admire people like the Balciars who can turn something I consider unpleasant into a positive experience.
A few weeks after moving to Ephrata, I was driving home from Wal-Mart. I don’t consider myself irresponsible. I don’t text or even talk on my phone while driving, but I can get distracted by the conversations I have with myself, which obviously is something else I should be afraid of. Suddenly I realize I am driving under one of the arms at the railroad crossing as it is descending on me. The red lights are flashing, the bells are dinging and I am stuck in the middle with a train coming. I panicked. I sat there, as my car shook, scenes from my life passing before my eyes. I also had the alarming thought that someone was going to recognize me and tell the police chief. So after the arms came up, I did the only thing I could think of, which was drive to the police station and turn myself in. No one took me to the Grant County Hotel in handcuffs. However, Loretta, Mike’s administrative assistant, forced me to sit down until I stopped shaking and my face color was restored. Later I returned to the scene of the crime, as we criminals frequently do, and realized I should have at least backed up because I was inches from the train hitting the front of my car. Now my heart beats faster and my palms sweat when I approach a train crossing.
I am slowly getting over my panic, but my experience did leave me with an awesome respect for the power of trains. Now I am very vigilant when crossing the tracks, even if there is no train in sight. My distraction could have had tragic results for me and for my family. It’s always a good thing when we do something stupid and are given the opportunity to learn from it. Perhaps some fears are healthy.
******************************************************************************
Janet can be reached at justsayinephrata@yahoo.com.
Line Dancing Grannies
Grant County Journal
October 4, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
Dave Barry isn’t the only columnist who has alert readers. One of my alert readers, Penny Quist, gave me many suggestions for future columns. According to Penny, “there are lots of interesting people and things around here if you just look.” I thank her for looking because I never would have met Dodie Pierce and the rest of the Line Dancing Grannies if it hadn’t been for Penny’s suggestion.
I met the Grannies at the Ephrata Senior Center on a Monday morning as they were getting ready for the first of their tri-weekly practices. Dodie told me the group originated more than 17 years ago because the ladies loved to dance, but their husbands did not. Out of the four original members, Em Corkins, is the only one still living. Dodie joined shortly after the group was formed and has been dancing since 1993. The Grannies range in age from 62 to 82, but looking around me, I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be 82 years old. As all the ladies agreed, not only does the dancing keep them physically fit, but also mentally fit. And I would add emotionally fit because every one of them has a great sense of humor. They laughed about their memory lapses, and mine, for that matter, since I had a tough time remembering their names. Let’s see…
Brenda Follet is the newest member of the group. When Brenda was widowed four and a half years ago, she wondered what she was going to do with herself. She saw an ad in the paper inviting people to join The Line Dancing Grannies. She tried it out mainly to get herself out of the house; meeting new people and the great exercise were added benefits. It took her over a year before she got up the courage to perform. Not only did Brenda make new friends, she sees The Line Dancing Grannies as an opportunity to give to the community. She especially enjoys performing at the nursing homes in the area because the residents are eager to see them and enjoy the dancing as they clap along to the music.
Six months ago, Joyce McAlpine started dancing again after a 6-year absence. When her husband died suddenly, Joyce found herself a little disoriented. She knew she needed some other activities in her life. She remembered the fun and companionship she had shared in her previous years as a Line Dancing Granny and knew where she could go to fill the void felt by her husband’s death. It was like she never left.
I noticed Genie Faulkner was dancing in her cowboy boots. When I asked her about it she said it was because she had a hard time finding shoes with leather soles she could dance in. The leather soles protect her knees. “If you don’t have good knees, you can’t line dance,” she says. The Line Dancing Grannies have about 10 outfits, but their trademark is their white cowboy boots. Genie loves to dance and she joined the Grannies to meet new people. She’s been a member since 2001.
JoAnn Marx has been a dancer most of her life. She and her husband, Lee, were ballroom dancers, and JoAnn also clogged. She danced with the Grannies for almost six years before her arm was twisted sufficiently, thus finally agreeing to perform. An interesting fact about The Line Dancing Grannies is that they also accept Grandpas. Lee can’t dance anymore because of a hip replacement, but he helps out with the Grannies in other ways. The group refers to themselves as “Lee’s harem” because he usually chauffeurs them to and from their many performances.
There have been four Line Dancing Grandpas over the years. “One of them died…I hope we didn’t kill him,” Dodie said. She then added, “We only do line dancing because you don’t need a partner for it.” That’s a good thing since the grandpas don’t seem to hang around long. Dodie is one of the oldest members of the group and she has a sharp wit. She invited me to dance with them, and even though I was wearing flip flops instead of cowboy boots, I agreed. I have to admit it was fun. I haven’t done any kind of dancing since Jazzercise a very long time ago and I didn’t do very well. But as my Jazzercise instructor used to say: “Your heart doesn’t know what your feet are doing.” I was breathing hard by the time the dance was over, which was only a couple of minutes. Their performances are 25 minutes long. These grannies are in good shape!
So, I say to the grannies: “Let’s say someone comes in here with my dancing ability. Can you teach her to dance?”
“Oh yes,” they all agree, “our instructor is great and the first hour of our sessions is for beginners.” Laura Paulson has been the instructor since 2003. She is Hawaiian and her background is Hula dancing. Laura finds the music and deciphers the written steps…Right Chasse, Back, Rock, Weave, Left, Touch…All the ladies agree no one else can figure them out which is why Laura gets to be the teacher. I was trying to follow Laura while I danced and she is very good.
The Line Dancing Grannies invite anyone to join. The requirements are that you are a Grandma or Grandpa (although they’d be willing to make an exception) and that you have two feet. Even if they are two left feet, they can teach you to dance. There are no fees unless you choose to perform, then you pay for your costumes. The best part is that you are not required to perform. You can learn to dance, get exercise three times a week (M, W, F 9:30-11:30) and enjoy the camaraderie of these fun women. Show up at the Ephrata Senior Center one of these mornings and they will show you the ropes. Don’t be intimidated by how good they are…they all started at the beginning.
The other two Line Dancing Grannies, Em Corkins and Marie Reid weren’t at the practice I attended. Em is also the Queen Mother of a local Red Hat Society, so I will get to meet her when I write a column on those rebellious Red Hatters. Marie’s name kept coming up (in a good way, Marie, in a good way) but I won’t meet her until I attend their performance in Soap Lake on October 21, 11 a.m. at the McKay Nursing Home. As JoAnn said, “We don’t do nights.” I’m with you there, ladies. We grannies need our rest.
October 4, 2010
By Janet Warren
Journal Columnist
Dave Barry isn’t the only columnist who has alert readers. One of my alert readers, Penny Quist, gave me many suggestions for future columns. According to Penny, “there are lots of interesting people and things around here if you just look.” I thank her for looking because I never would have met Dodie Pierce and the rest of the Line Dancing Grannies if it hadn’t been for Penny’s suggestion.
I met the Grannies at the Ephrata Senior Center on a Monday morning as they were getting ready for the first of their tri-weekly practices. Dodie told me the group originated more than 17 years ago because the ladies loved to dance, but their husbands did not. Out of the four original members, Em Corkins, is the only one still living. Dodie joined shortly after the group was formed and has been dancing since 1993. The Grannies range in age from 62 to 82, but looking around me, I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be 82 years old. As all the ladies agreed, not only does the dancing keep them physically fit, but also mentally fit. And I would add emotionally fit because every one of them has a great sense of humor. They laughed about their memory lapses, and mine, for that matter, since I had a tough time remembering their names. Let’s see…
Brenda Follet is the newest member of the group. When Brenda was widowed four and a half years ago, she wondered what she was going to do with herself. She saw an ad in the paper inviting people to join The Line Dancing Grannies. She tried it out mainly to get herself out of the house; meeting new people and the great exercise were added benefits. It took her over a year before she got up the courage to perform. Not only did Brenda make new friends, she sees The Line Dancing Grannies as an opportunity to give to the community. She especially enjoys performing at the nursing homes in the area because the residents are eager to see them and enjoy the dancing as they clap along to the music.
Six months ago, Joyce McAlpine started dancing again after a 6-year absence. When her husband died suddenly, Joyce found herself a little disoriented. She knew she needed some other activities in her life. She remembered the fun and companionship she had shared in her previous years as a Line Dancing Granny and knew where she could go to fill the void felt by her husband’s death. It was like she never left.
I noticed Genie Faulkner was dancing in her cowboy boots. When I asked her about it she said it was because she had a hard time finding shoes with leather soles she could dance in. The leather soles protect her knees. “If you don’t have good knees, you can’t line dance,” she says. The Line Dancing Grannies have about 10 outfits, but their trademark is their white cowboy boots. Genie loves to dance and she joined the Grannies to meet new people. She’s been a member since 2001.
JoAnn Marx has been a dancer most of her life. She and her husband, Lee, were ballroom dancers, and JoAnn also clogged. She danced with the Grannies for almost six years before her arm was twisted sufficiently, thus finally agreeing to perform. An interesting fact about The Line Dancing Grannies is that they also accept Grandpas. Lee can’t dance anymore because of a hip replacement, but he helps out with the Grannies in other ways. The group refers to themselves as “Lee’s harem” because he usually chauffeurs them to and from their many performances.
There have been four Line Dancing Grandpas over the years. “One of them died…I hope we didn’t kill him,” Dodie said. She then added, “We only do line dancing because you don’t need a partner for it.” That’s a good thing since the grandpas don’t seem to hang around long. Dodie is one of the oldest members of the group and she has a sharp wit. She invited me to dance with them, and even though I was wearing flip flops instead of cowboy boots, I agreed. I have to admit it was fun. I haven’t done any kind of dancing since Jazzercise a very long time ago and I didn’t do very well. But as my Jazzercise instructor used to say: “Your heart doesn’t know what your feet are doing.” I was breathing hard by the time the dance was over, which was only a couple of minutes. Their performances are 25 minutes long. These grannies are in good shape!
So, I say to the grannies: “Let’s say someone comes in here with my dancing ability. Can you teach her to dance?”
“Oh yes,” they all agree, “our instructor is great and the first hour of our sessions is for beginners.” Laura Paulson has been the instructor since 2003. She is Hawaiian and her background is Hula dancing. Laura finds the music and deciphers the written steps…Right Chasse, Back, Rock, Weave, Left, Touch…All the ladies agree no one else can figure them out which is why Laura gets to be the teacher. I was trying to follow Laura while I danced and she is very good.
The Line Dancing Grannies invite anyone to join. The requirements are that you are a Grandma or Grandpa (although they’d be willing to make an exception) and that you have two feet. Even if they are two left feet, they can teach you to dance. There are no fees unless you choose to perform, then you pay for your costumes. The best part is that you are not required to perform. You can learn to dance, get exercise three times a week (M, W, F 9:30-11:30) and enjoy the camaraderie of these fun women. Show up at the Ephrata Senior Center one of these mornings and they will show you the ropes. Don’t be intimidated by how good they are…they all started at the beginning.
The other two Line Dancing Grannies, Em Corkins and Marie Reid weren’t at the practice I attended. Em is also the Queen Mother of a local Red Hat Society, so I will get to meet her when I write a column on those rebellious Red Hatters. Marie’s name kept coming up (in a good way, Marie, in a good way) but I won’t meet her until I attend their performance in Soap Lake on October 21, 11 a.m. at the McKay Nursing Home. As JoAnn said, “We don’t do nights.” I’m with you there, ladies. We grannies need our rest.
September 27 Introduction
Grant County Journal
September 27, 2010
JUST SAYIN’…
Janet Warren
I admit when we moved to Ephrata a year ago I changed my cell phone ringtone identifying my husband from “Super Trooper” to the whistling theme of the Andy Griffith Show. When Mike was hired as the police chief for Ephrata, I told people we were moving to Mayberry. It’s true that in my 2009 Christmas newsletter to friends and family I described Ephrata as being “two hours from anywhere, except Wenatchee, which is three hours from anywhere.” And don’t get me started on how many times I have said “I was Ephrata that…”. The kidding about Ephrata stopped for me on December 29th when Mike called from the crime scene to tell me the young man I had hired to replace our countertops had been murdered. I couldn’t make jokes about Ephrata any more. That was the day Mike began to wear his bullet-proof vest.
Fast forward a year. I have lived in Ephrata long enough to realize Sage’s murder was an anomaly. It does not define what Ephrata is all about, and because most of you have a history with Ephrata, you came to that realization before I did. Mike still wears his vest, not because he sees criminals lurking around every corner, but as a precaution and to model his expectations for his officers on the street. December 29th was a watershed moment for me, as it was for many of you. I had to make a conscious effort to not let my husband’s job define my experience in our new town. Slowly, I began to look at ways I could appreciate my new community. Mike is a good example to me because he seeks out experiences that counterbalance the dark things he has to deal with. You might see him playing the part of crossing guard on the first couple days of school or leading a parade for Sage and Sun. One day we were eating lunch at Subway and two little boys were so enthralled by his uniform he invited their mother to bring them by the police station to take a look at his “cool” police truck. She took him up on his offer and he had a chance to make their day by turning on the siren and letting them sit in his “prisoner cage.” To make sure their excitement led to the right side of the law, he deputized them with junior police badges.
In my quest to appreciate Ephrata, I have found it is full of talented, exceptional people. I could stop any one of you on the street and write an interesting story about your life; what brought you to Ephrata and why you stayed. I hear from so many people that they initially moved to Ephrata for a short time and ended up becoming lifers. “It’s the people,” they tell me. “You will not find better people anywhere.” I met an Ephrata man in his 70’s who still rides his beloved Harley. A couple I met has one of the oldest trees in Ephrata growing in their backyard. If it fell it would take out their bedroom, but they can’t bear to cut it down because it is part of Ephrata’s history. I know there are master gardeners out there who can give me tips on how to realize my dream of growing a cantaloupe in my garden. I spent 26 years in Colorado Springs, and I was never able to grow a cantaloupe. Actually, I never tried because real gardeners would have snickered at me behind my back. I now have a baseball-sized one growing and, as fall looms, I grasp the fact it won’t get any bigger. I’ve come to terms with it, but I love that baby cantaloupe. Little things bring focus to my life. I was amazed this spring that so many different kinds of flowers bloomed in my yard as I thought this Basin was supposed to be a desert. I suppose I expected Saguaro cacti instead of the beautiful sycamore tree in my front yard or the walnut trees over by DKs. Once I began to look at a black-and-white Ephrata with a different frame of mind, things began to pop with color.
Dorothy Bair has lived in Ephrata since 1952. She is someone who sees color in quotes and one-liners. She loves words and appreciates how a phrase can be turned. She has been collecting quotes most of her life, writing them down in spiral notebooks. A few years ago she had them all printed up in her first booklet of “Grandma Bair’s Collection of Wit and Wisdom.” So many people loved it, she kept collecting quotes and has now published her second and third installments. She is 89 years young and has lived a life filled with fun and humor. What a great legacy to leave for her 6 children, 34 grandchildren and 78 (and still counting) great-grandchildren. Her hobby makes her smile, and it makes me smile when I read her books. One of Dorothy’s collected quotes describes her: “Many times we don’t stop having fun because we are old—we grow old because we stopped having fun.”
Let me know what brings out the color in your life. I want to write about the good things and the good people of Ephrata. I might write about some of the bad, but the ugly, not so much. You can always get your ugly somewhere else.
As Grandma Bair would say: “Life is a journey, not a destination.”
Tell me about your journey. I’d love to chat with you.
justsayinephrata@yahoo.com
September 27, 2010
JUST SAYIN’…
Janet Warren
I admit when we moved to Ephrata a year ago I changed my cell phone ringtone identifying my husband from “Super Trooper” to the whistling theme of the Andy Griffith Show. When Mike was hired as the police chief for Ephrata, I told people we were moving to Mayberry. It’s true that in my 2009 Christmas newsletter to friends and family I described Ephrata as being “two hours from anywhere, except Wenatchee, which is three hours from anywhere.” And don’t get me started on how many times I have said “I was Ephrata that…”. The kidding about Ephrata stopped for me on December 29th when Mike called from the crime scene to tell me the young man I had hired to replace our countertops had been murdered. I couldn’t make jokes about Ephrata any more. That was the day Mike began to wear his bullet-proof vest.
Fast forward a year. I have lived in Ephrata long enough to realize Sage’s murder was an anomaly. It does not define what Ephrata is all about, and because most of you have a history with Ephrata, you came to that realization before I did. Mike still wears his vest, not because he sees criminals lurking around every corner, but as a precaution and to model his expectations for his officers on the street. December 29th was a watershed moment for me, as it was for many of you. I had to make a conscious effort to not let my husband’s job define my experience in our new town. Slowly, I began to look at ways I could appreciate my new community. Mike is a good example to me because he seeks out experiences that counterbalance the dark things he has to deal with. You might see him playing the part of crossing guard on the first couple days of school or leading a parade for Sage and Sun. One day we were eating lunch at Subway and two little boys were so enthralled by his uniform he invited their mother to bring them by the police station to take a look at his “cool” police truck. She took him up on his offer and he had a chance to make their day by turning on the siren and letting them sit in his “prisoner cage.” To make sure their excitement led to the right side of the law, he deputized them with junior police badges.
In my quest to appreciate Ephrata, I have found it is full of talented, exceptional people. I could stop any one of you on the street and write an interesting story about your life; what brought you to Ephrata and why you stayed. I hear from so many people that they initially moved to Ephrata for a short time and ended up becoming lifers. “It’s the people,” they tell me. “You will not find better people anywhere.” I met an Ephrata man in his 70’s who still rides his beloved Harley. A couple I met has one of the oldest trees in Ephrata growing in their backyard. If it fell it would take out their bedroom, but they can’t bear to cut it down because it is part of Ephrata’s history. I know there are master gardeners out there who can give me tips on how to realize my dream of growing a cantaloupe in my garden. I spent 26 years in Colorado Springs, and I was never able to grow a cantaloupe. Actually, I never tried because real gardeners would have snickered at me behind my back. I now have a baseball-sized one growing and, as fall looms, I grasp the fact it won’t get any bigger. I’ve come to terms with it, but I love that baby cantaloupe. Little things bring focus to my life. I was amazed this spring that so many different kinds of flowers bloomed in my yard as I thought this Basin was supposed to be a desert. I suppose I expected Saguaro cacti instead of the beautiful sycamore tree in my front yard or the walnut trees over by DKs. Once I began to look at a black-and-white Ephrata with a different frame of mind, things began to pop with color.
Dorothy Bair has lived in Ephrata since 1952. She is someone who sees color in quotes and one-liners. She loves words and appreciates how a phrase can be turned. She has been collecting quotes most of her life, writing them down in spiral notebooks. A few years ago she had them all printed up in her first booklet of “Grandma Bair’s Collection of Wit and Wisdom.” So many people loved it, she kept collecting quotes and has now published her second and third installments. She is 89 years young and has lived a life filled with fun and humor. What a great legacy to leave for her 6 children, 34 grandchildren and 78 (and still counting) great-grandchildren. Her hobby makes her smile, and it makes me smile when I read her books. One of Dorothy’s collected quotes describes her: “Many times we don’t stop having fun because we are old—we grow old because we stopped having fun.”
Let me know what brings out the color in your life. I want to write about the good things and the good people of Ephrata. I might write about some of the bad, but the ugly, not so much. You can always get your ugly somewhere else.
As Grandma Bair would say: “Life is a journey, not a destination.”
Tell me about your journey. I’d love to chat with you.
justsayinephrata@yahoo.com
Just Sayin'
I write a column for the Grant County Journal in Ephrata, Washington. Since it is very small (circulation 3,300) it is not online. I created this blog for those of you out-of-towners who have requested being able to follow my column. Welcome to My Mayberry!
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