Grant County Journal
April 25, 2011r
Good Things Take Work
Written by Janet Warren
It was like a well-executed military maneuver. Okay, maybe more like a scene from Pink Panther with Steve Martin, but we pulled it off.
1. Spencer arrives at the Easter pageant in Mesa directly from work, still dressed in his scrubs, to save Jenni and me seats. Check.
2. Jenni and I get all three children ready to leave from home in Chandler; buckled in car seats. Check.
3. Driving to Mesa, Jenni asks if I have my cell phone, a strategic necessity in our plan. Oh oh.
4. Go back home to get my cell phone. Check.
5. Arrive at Mesa Arizona Temple 30 minutes later, 10 minutes before showtime. Should have been 20 minutes, but every plan has a wrinkle. Check.
6. Double park behind Spencer’s car. Check
7. Jenni stays with children in double-parked van, hoping no one will ask her to move, and nurses baby. Check.
8. I try to find Spencer amidst 8,000 people. Thank goodness for cell phones. Check.
9. Spencer returns to car to relieve Jenni and drives the three children home. Check.
10. Jenni slides into the aisle seat Spencer has procured 10 minutes after show time. It would have been perfect if not for the cell phone wrinkle. Check.
Good grief it’s difficult to have a spiritual experience when you have small children (or teenagers). But it was worth it. For me, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, unless, of course, I happen to be visiting my daughter in Arizona the week before Easter again, then it could be twice-in-a-life, because I would definitely do it again. I had the opportunity to see an Easter pageant put on by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and held on the lawn of the Mesa Temple. In 65 minutes, the life of Christ was portrayed in music, dance, and through the words of the King James Version of the New Testament.
In 1928, a few months after the Mesa Arizona temple was built, this pageant was performed out of the back of a cotton truck as an Easter sunrise service. Except for a few of the war years, it has been performed every year since then. It has grown into the largest annual outdoor Easter pageant in the world. Today it is presented on a 9,600-square-foot stage, which stands four stories high, complete with professional sound and lighting systems. The 450 volunteer cast members prepare for nine formal performances, which 4,000 to 12,000 visitors attend each night. It is presented for all faiths, cultures, and ages.
The pageant is a community event that is free to the public. No donations are accepted and no tickets are required. People travel from all over the United States to see this beautiful remembrance of Jesus Christ. There was seating for 8,000 people on the night my daughter and I attended, and most of them were filled. I was amazed how quiet 8,000 people, including children, can be when they are mesmerized. The play began with Christ’s birth, and because of it’s quick pacing, was able to depict many of the biblical events in Christ’s life such as when he told the parable of the ten virgins and his suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane. The crucifixion was portrayed, but I think one of the main differences between this pageant and a traditional passion play is that it focused more on Christ’s resurrection. At the end of the pageant, all 450 cast members were on stage, angels with trumps were four stories up, and Christ was raised on a pedestal above them, which made it look like he was in the air above the stage. It was all masterfully done and such a beautiful thing to see.
As we were leaving the north lawn of the temple grounds, the visitor center’s curtains were opened to reveal an 11-foot statue of the Christus. The original marble Christus was sculpted by Bertel Thorvaldsen, a Danish sculpter, in 1821. It is housed in the Church of Our Lady in Copenhagen, Denmark. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints commissioned two replicas in the 1960s; the first was placed in storage until the facility to house it was built on the Salt Lake City temple grounds, but the second one was displayed at the 1965 World’s Fair in New York. The LDS church has 134 operating temples around the world (not to be confused with their meeting houses). The closest temples to Ephrata are in Kennewick and Spokane. Today there are more than 15 Christus replicas placed around the world in LDS temple visitor’s centers—Los Angeles, Hawaii, Mexico, Japan, Washington D.C., and Mesa being a few. I have also seen Thorvaldsen’s Christus at the beautiful Victorian Dome of John Hopkins hospital, where Spencer did his medical fellowship. The Dome is part of the original hospital built in 1889, and the statue, entitled Christus Consolator, was unveiled on October 14, 1896. A bronze full-size replica is located at the Oakwood Cemetery in Huntsville, Texas.
Thorvaldsen originally envisioned sculpting the Christus with hands raised, as if to bless, but at the last minute decided to sculpt Christ with his hands outstretched so that all could see the prints in his hands as he reached out to them. It is a gorgeous sculpture and a gentle reminder of how Christ died for us.
Sometimes we get so busy in our lives that it takes an effort to remember to slow down and reflect on our blessings. I hope Easter refreshed you spiritually. Without nourishment to our souls, life can become pretty grim.
Mike’s coming to Arizona on Friday for the twins’ third birthday! I also have another exciting announcement next Monday. Talk to you then.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Christmas in April
Grant County Journal
Christmas in April
April 11, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
My favorite quote collector, Dorothy Bair, recited this poem to me and I loved it. It was written by the most prolific author in history, Anonymous.
When first he called me sweetheart, My youthful knees grew weak,
and that was topped when I heard wife, for sure, I'd reached my peak.
Until a tiny voice said Mommy, a joy I still recall.
But now, the sound of "Grandma" is the sweetest word of all.
The little princess has arrived! Ivy Noël Heaton, 6 pounds 2 ounces, 20 inches long. Noël is my daughter’s middle name; she was born a week before Christmas. The parents realize Ivy will forever be explaining why her middle name is Noël when she was born in April, but she’ll have to explain about the trema over the e anyway. Even though I was the one who named my daughter Jennifer Noël, I just learned when Ivy was born that the two dots over the e is called a trema and it means that the vowel preceding the e is pronounced separately and not blended into the e. Of course, this will make no sense to you if the paper isn’t able to print the trema. You’ll have to imagine the e with two dots over it. Jennifer (later shortened to Jenni), wanted to be sure Ivy wasn’t named anything on the top 10 list of baby names. Jenni, who was born in 1978, grew up with at least 3 or 4 Jennifers in her classes at school.
Jenni is recuperating, but it’s tough with three-year-old twins who don’t understand why they can’t jump on their post-operative C-section mommy. That’s one of the reasons I am here—I’ll do the heavy lifting until the other grandma comes to take over. We’ve had a bit of jealousy over here too. Hey—last time there were two babies so I got to hold a grandchild anytime I wanted. Oh, and the boys have also been a little jealous. Seth saw his daddy holding Ivy and yelled at him to give mommy her baby back. When Spencer tried to explain Ivy was Mommy and Daddy’s baby, Seth cried, “No, Seth is Daddy’s baby.” It almost broke my heart. This parenting stuff is hard work, which is why being a grandparent is so fun. I get to enjoy the moment without having to worry about the long-term consequences. When I leave, Jenni and Spencer can always say, “We only do that when grandma is here.”
I walked Seth and Noah over to the park yesterday so Jenni could get some much-needed rest. Gone is the beautiful, little bit too warm for me, weather. It was replaced with 70 degrees yesterday. Except for being a little windy, it felt really good. Apparently 70 degrees in Arizona is cold. Adults were at the park dressed in hooded sweatshirts. Wimps. Today, however, was in the 50s and I was wishing I had packed some socks.
I saw a roadrunner a couple of days ago. When I called Mike in Ephrata and told him, he said, “what year?” Mike, Mike, Mike. You have cars on the brain, but I am missing the way you make me look at something in a totally different way. No, I saw the bird like the one who was always driving Wile E. Coyote crazy. I have never seen one that wasn’t animated, but it was obvious it was a roadrunner when it ran past me in the park.
I promised to send a picture of Ivy, and here she is! I can’t help myself, I have to go into grandma mode. She is the most beautiful baby girl I have ever seen (besides my own, of course). Thanks, my Ephrata friends, for letting a semi-old grandma brag.
Christmas in April
April 11, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
My favorite quote collector, Dorothy Bair, recited this poem to me and I loved it. It was written by the most prolific author in history, Anonymous.
When first he called me sweetheart, My youthful knees grew weak,
and that was topped when I heard wife, for sure, I'd reached my peak.
Until a tiny voice said Mommy, a joy I still recall.
But now, the sound of "Grandma" is the sweetest word of all.
The little princess has arrived! Ivy Noël Heaton, 6 pounds 2 ounces, 20 inches long. Noël is my daughter’s middle name; she was born a week before Christmas. The parents realize Ivy will forever be explaining why her middle name is Noël when she was born in April, but she’ll have to explain about the trema over the e anyway. Even though I was the one who named my daughter Jennifer Noël, I just learned when Ivy was born that the two dots over the e is called a trema and it means that the vowel preceding the e is pronounced separately and not blended into the e. Of course, this will make no sense to you if the paper isn’t able to print the trema. You’ll have to imagine the e with two dots over it. Jennifer (later shortened to Jenni), wanted to be sure Ivy wasn’t named anything on the top 10 list of baby names. Jenni, who was born in 1978, grew up with at least 3 or 4 Jennifers in her classes at school.
Jenni is recuperating, but it’s tough with three-year-old twins who don’t understand why they can’t jump on their post-operative C-section mommy. That’s one of the reasons I am here—I’ll do the heavy lifting until the other grandma comes to take over. We’ve had a bit of jealousy over here too. Hey—last time there were two babies so I got to hold a grandchild anytime I wanted. Oh, and the boys have also been a little jealous. Seth saw his daddy holding Ivy and yelled at him to give mommy her baby back. When Spencer tried to explain Ivy was Mommy and Daddy’s baby, Seth cried, “No, Seth is Daddy’s baby.” It almost broke my heart. This parenting stuff is hard work, which is why being a grandparent is so fun. I get to enjoy the moment without having to worry about the long-term consequences. When I leave, Jenni and Spencer can always say, “We only do that when grandma is here.”
I walked Seth and Noah over to the park yesterday so Jenni could get some much-needed rest. Gone is the beautiful, little bit too warm for me, weather. It was replaced with 70 degrees yesterday. Except for being a little windy, it felt really good. Apparently 70 degrees in Arizona is cold. Adults were at the park dressed in hooded sweatshirts. Wimps. Today, however, was in the 50s and I was wishing I had packed some socks.
I saw a roadrunner a couple of days ago. When I called Mike in Ephrata and told him, he said, “what year?” Mike, Mike, Mike. You have cars on the brain, but I am missing the way you make me look at something in a totally different way. No, I saw the bird like the one who was always driving Wile E. Coyote crazy. I have never seen one that wasn’t animated, but it was obvious it was a roadrunner when it ran past me in the park.
I promised to send a picture of Ivy, and here she is! I can’t help myself, I have to go into grandma mode. She is the most beautiful baby girl I have ever seen (besides my own, of course). Thanks, my Ephrata friends, for letting a semi-old grandma brag.
Making Limeade out of Lemons
Grant County Journal
April 4, 2011
Making Limeade out of Lemons
Written by Janet Warren
My daughter and son-in-law, Jenni and Spencer, moved to Arizona in September, after Spencer finished nine years of medical training back east. None of our family has ever lived where you can grow citrus trees, and when I visited Arizona in November, I was intrigued with the lime tree Jenni had growing in her back yard. We had fresh limes right off the tree for Thanksgiving. They looked like limes, they tasted like limes, and they smelled like limes. I had no reason to think they weren’t limes until a month later when Jenni informed me they had turned bright yellow. If Jenni had mentioned her lime tree to someone who had lived in Arizona for a few years, they most likely would have told her about the growing season and that her limes were actually lemons. Sometimes we assume things and don’t bother to check with someone who really knows.
When my son was 11 years old, Mike and I took him to meet Aunt Charlene in Hemet, California and to visit the attractions in San Diego and Los Angeles. He was at the age where he was beginning to be interested in the world around him, yet not quite old enough to understand them. Of course, I’m not sure I’m old enough to understand some of the things that are going on around us, either, but that is beside the point.
We drove down the Oregon Coast and then entered California through Crescent City. Just north of Crescent City, Jeffrey looked around him and said, “California doesn’t look like it’s bankrupt.” Sometimes as adults we view the world like an 11-year-old. I admit when my daughter and her family moved here last September, I was worried about the murders that were taking place with the Mexican drug cartel. A man was even beheaded in Chandler, where Spencer and Jenni live, although I later found out it was way out in the desert. When I visited them in November, which is the first time I have ever been in Arizona, the part of my brain that behaves like an 11-year-old was probably saying, “It doesn’t look overrun with illegal immigrants and murdering cartel henchmen.” My point is, we can get riled up with the news reports of everything that is going wrong, even to the point of jumping on the Boycott Arizona Bandwagon. Some of us don’t even bother to ask someone who lives here; we form our opinions from the media. I happen to think Governor Brewer is very brave for sticking up for Arizona. There are a lot of reasons I wouldn’t boycott Arizona, but the most important one is because some of the most important people in my life live here.
On a lighter note, those of us who live in the cooler Northwest are sure to say we could never live in Arizona because of the heat. We forget that six to eight months of the year is beautiful and that you can grow grapefruit trees in your backyard.
Arizona’s spring has sprung. We went for a walk to the park the other evening, and I could smell the night-blooming jasmine. The temperature was like a warm summer night, but it was very pleasant. On April 1, however, Chandler broke a record temperature for that date by 5 degrees. It got up to 98 degrees. Jenni cranked up the air conditioner and we stayed indoors most of the day. Fortunately, the rest of the week dropped down to more normal April temperatures in the 80s. It usually doesn’t begin to get into the 90s until the middle of May. The latest forecast has Friday with 76 degrees.
The reason I am here for a month is that Jenni’s C-section is scheduled for 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. My almost-three-year-old twin grandsons, Seth and Noah, don’t have a clue what is about to happen to them when Jenni has the new baby. Noah has warmed up to me, but Seth is still very suspect of me. Friday morning Jenni was resting in bed and Seth was on the other side of the bed watching a movie on an iPhone. I went in and kneeled down beside Seth and asked him what he wanted grandma to make him for breakfast. He scooted quickly over to his mother’s side saying, “Mommy, help me.” Oh my, he’s in for such a surprise tomorrow when either grandma makes him breakfast or he will be one hungry little boy. That’s the problem with living so far away. I was talking to Julie on the playground at Grant before I came here and expressed how I wished I lived closer so I could see my grandchildren more often. “My grandkids live in Seattle,” she said, “and I don’t see them that much either.” She has a point there. Unless I lived in the same city, I probably couldn’t have the close relationship I wish I had. Of course, living that close to your children might present a whole list of other problems. And, as beautiful as Arizona is the rest of the year, I really couldn’t take that summer heat. Snowbirds, maybe? That would be the best of both worlds. Mike, can we talk?
April 4, 2011
Making Limeade out of Lemons
Written by Janet Warren
My daughter and son-in-law, Jenni and Spencer, moved to Arizona in September, after Spencer finished nine years of medical training back east. None of our family has ever lived where you can grow citrus trees, and when I visited Arizona in November, I was intrigued with the lime tree Jenni had growing in her back yard. We had fresh limes right off the tree for Thanksgiving. They looked like limes, they tasted like limes, and they smelled like limes. I had no reason to think they weren’t limes until a month later when Jenni informed me they had turned bright yellow. If Jenni had mentioned her lime tree to someone who had lived in Arizona for a few years, they most likely would have told her about the growing season and that her limes were actually lemons. Sometimes we assume things and don’t bother to check with someone who really knows.
When my son was 11 years old, Mike and I took him to meet Aunt Charlene in Hemet, California and to visit the attractions in San Diego and Los Angeles. He was at the age where he was beginning to be interested in the world around him, yet not quite old enough to understand them. Of course, I’m not sure I’m old enough to understand some of the things that are going on around us, either, but that is beside the point.
We drove down the Oregon Coast and then entered California through Crescent City. Just north of Crescent City, Jeffrey looked around him and said, “California doesn’t look like it’s bankrupt.” Sometimes as adults we view the world like an 11-year-old. I admit when my daughter and her family moved here last September, I was worried about the murders that were taking place with the Mexican drug cartel. A man was even beheaded in Chandler, where Spencer and Jenni live, although I later found out it was way out in the desert. When I visited them in November, which is the first time I have ever been in Arizona, the part of my brain that behaves like an 11-year-old was probably saying, “It doesn’t look overrun with illegal immigrants and murdering cartel henchmen.” My point is, we can get riled up with the news reports of everything that is going wrong, even to the point of jumping on the Boycott Arizona Bandwagon. Some of us don’t even bother to ask someone who lives here; we form our opinions from the media. I happen to think Governor Brewer is very brave for sticking up for Arizona. There are a lot of reasons I wouldn’t boycott Arizona, but the most important one is because some of the most important people in my life live here.
On a lighter note, those of us who live in the cooler Northwest are sure to say we could never live in Arizona because of the heat. We forget that six to eight months of the year is beautiful and that you can grow grapefruit trees in your backyard.
Arizona’s spring has sprung. We went for a walk to the park the other evening, and I could smell the night-blooming jasmine. The temperature was like a warm summer night, but it was very pleasant. On April 1, however, Chandler broke a record temperature for that date by 5 degrees. It got up to 98 degrees. Jenni cranked up the air conditioner and we stayed indoors most of the day. Fortunately, the rest of the week dropped down to more normal April temperatures in the 80s. It usually doesn’t begin to get into the 90s until the middle of May. The latest forecast has Friday with 76 degrees.
The reason I am here for a month is that Jenni’s C-section is scheduled for 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. My almost-three-year-old twin grandsons, Seth and Noah, don’t have a clue what is about to happen to them when Jenni has the new baby. Noah has warmed up to me, but Seth is still very suspect of me. Friday morning Jenni was resting in bed and Seth was on the other side of the bed watching a movie on an iPhone. I went in and kneeled down beside Seth and asked him what he wanted grandma to make him for breakfast. He scooted quickly over to his mother’s side saying, “Mommy, help me.” Oh my, he’s in for such a surprise tomorrow when either grandma makes him breakfast or he will be one hungry little boy. That’s the problem with living so far away. I was talking to Julie on the playground at Grant before I came here and expressed how I wished I lived closer so I could see my grandchildren more often. “My grandkids live in Seattle,” she said, “and I don’t see them that much either.” She has a point there. Unless I lived in the same city, I probably couldn’t have the close relationship I wish I had. Of course, living that close to your children might present a whole list of other problems. And, as beautiful as Arizona is the rest of the year, I really couldn’t take that summer heat. Snowbirds, maybe? That would be the best of both worlds. Mike, can we talk?
Monday, March 28, 2011
Leavin' on a Jet Plane
Grant County Journal
Leavin’ on a Jet Plane
March 28, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
Woo hoo! I met my goal last week. I actually told a story in less than 1,000 words. I have been writing this column for seven months now, and last week’s column at 878 words was the first time it printed above the crease in the newspaper. Now when you read my columns and they are above the crease, you can cheer my victory! I think my problem is that I don’t write like a journalist—concise and to the point. I write more like a novelist—slowly meandering, stopping every once in a while to get a cool drink and describing the flowers while I am there. But I have really enjoyed the journey, and I hope you have too.
I’m going away for awhile. Not to a quiet, padded room somewhere, but to my daughter’s house in Chandler, Arizona. She is having our first granddaughter and the C-section is scheduled for April 5. I’m going a week early so she can get a little rest before the big day. Almost three years ago, I traveled to Ann Arbor, Michigan, when she gave birth to our twin grandsons, Seth and Noah. They are causing a bit of a ruckus these days. I have a feeling they are sensing the world as they know it is about to change.
Sometimes I begin to feel isolated in Ephrata. My family is too far away to hop in a car and go for a visit. But, I can hop on a plane and be in Arizona in less time than it takes for me to drive to the Spokane Airport, check my bags and have the full-body scan at the security checkpoint. Of course, the twins think I live at the Phoenix airport and wonder why I don’t visit more often when it only takes a half an hour to pick me up.
I was explaining to a gentleman that I would be sending in my columns from Arizona for the next few weeks and mentioned I’d be sure to send a picture of our new granddaughter. It was really funny the way he started back pedaling. “Oh, that’s not really necessary,” he stammered. I finally figured it out. He thought I was one of THOSE grandparents—the ones who brag about how beautiful and smart their grandchildren are. Believe me, I will not bore you with the run-of-the-mill antics of my grandsons, or how the new granddaughter is sleeping through the night at one week old.
I suppose I could have hung a Gone Fishin’ sign on my column for the next few weeks, but I thought you might like a taste of Arizona. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I can send in columns from anywhere. I was there in November and there are so many places I want to visit—the Superstition Mountains for starters. The first time I visited Phoenix, I was taken aback that there are such beautiful wild-looking mountains there. I was expecting flat, dry land. The sight of palm trees up against a mountain range during sunset was really unusual. I’ll talk about the cacti and the other vegetation that grows in the Phoenix area because that always interests me. Last time I was there, I picked a few pods off a mesquite tree and then figured out what they were on the internet. Some of the crops I saw growing I had never seen before, so I did some research and found out it was sorghum.
And as for the pictures—I’m sure I’ll send a picture of the new baby. I mean, what kind of grandma would I be if I didn’t take advantage of having a column in a newspaper where I can show a picture of my granddaughter to thousands of people? And I might tell a story or two about the twins, but I promise they won’t be ordinary ones like every grandparent tells. Did I mention both of them are geniuses?
680 words! Another one above the crease!
Leavin’ on a Jet Plane
March 28, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
Woo hoo! I met my goal last week. I actually told a story in less than 1,000 words. I have been writing this column for seven months now, and last week’s column at 878 words was the first time it printed above the crease in the newspaper. Now when you read my columns and they are above the crease, you can cheer my victory! I think my problem is that I don’t write like a journalist—concise and to the point. I write more like a novelist—slowly meandering, stopping every once in a while to get a cool drink and describing the flowers while I am there. But I have really enjoyed the journey, and I hope you have too.
I’m going away for awhile. Not to a quiet, padded room somewhere, but to my daughter’s house in Chandler, Arizona. She is having our first granddaughter and the C-section is scheduled for April 5. I’m going a week early so she can get a little rest before the big day. Almost three years ago, I traveled to Ann Arbor, Michigan, when she gave birth to our twin grandsons, Seth and Noah. They are causing a bit of a ruckus these days. I have a feeling they are sensing the world as they know it is about to change.
Sometimes I begin to feel isolated in Ephrata. My family is too far away to hop in a car and go for a visit. But, I can hop on a plane and be in Arizona in less time than it takes for me to drive to the Spokane Airport, check my bags and have the full-body scan at the security checkpoint. Of course, the twins think I live at the Phoenix airport and wonder why I don’t visit more often when it only takes a half an hour to pick me up.
I was explaining to a gentleman that I would be sending in my columns from Arizona for the next few weeks and mentioned I’d be sure to send a picture of our new granddaughter. It was really funny the way he started back pedaling. “Oh, that’s not really necessary,” he stammered. I finally figured it out. He thought I was one of THOSE grandparents—the ones who brag about how beautiful and smart their grandchildren are. Believe me, I will not bore you with the run-of-the-mill antics of my grandsons, or how the new granddaughter is sleeping through the night at one week old.
I suppose I could have hung a Gone Fishin’ sign on my column for the next few weeks, but I thought you might like a taste of Arizona. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I can send in columns from anywhere. I was there in November and there are so many places I want to visit—the Superstition Mountains for starters. The first time I visited Phoenix, I was taken aback that there are such beautiful wild-looking mountains there. I was expecting flat, dry land. The sight of palm trees up against a mountain range during sunset was really unusual. I’ll talk about the cacti and the other vegetation that grows in the Phoenix area because that always interests me. Last time I was there, I picked a few pods off a mesquite tree and then figured out what they were on the internet. Some of the crops I saw growing I had never seen before, so I did some research and found out it was sorghum.
And as for the pictures—I’m sure I’ll send a picture of the new baby. I mean, what kind of grandma would I be if I didn’t take advantage of having a column in a newspaper where I can show a picture of my granddaughter to thousands of people? And I might tell a story or two about the twins, but I promise they won’t be ordinary ones like every grandparent tells. Did I mention both of them are geniuses?
680 words! Another one above the crease!
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Wing and a Prayer
Grant County Journal
March 21, 2011
A Wing and a Prayer
Written by Janet Warren
Today, March 21, is my father’s 86th birthday. I was his present on his 33rd birthday, so today is also my birthday. (The answer is 53 for those of you doing the math). I would like to dedicate this week’s column to my father, Richard Fullenwider.
There are little pieces of time in my life that stand out. They are moments when either I was stunned beyond belief, or when I witnessed something that was so breathtaking I stood in awe.
I was stunned when President Reagan was shot. I couldn’t leave the television as I tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap my mind around it. Do you remember where you were when Challenger exploded 25 years ago? I was in my daughter’s first grade classroom and everyone was tuned into the news coverage as it took off. I was paralyzed. A similar experience happened when students were massacred at Columbine High School, an hour away from my home in Colorado Springs.
I am sure all of you, like me, have experienced personal things over the years that have left you numb and not able to catch your breath. Perhaps a break up of a marriage or the death of a loved one taken too soon. Thank goodness my life’s scale has been tipped with more experiences being awed than I have had with being stunned. I consider those moments to be tender mercies.
Two of those memories involve eagles.
I spent the last two years of high school in Spokane, graduating from Mead in 1976. My father was the Boy Scout Executive of the Inland Empire Council for 17 years, beginning when I was a junior in high school. I went away to college after graduating from Mead, but I always considered Spokane my home. Even after living 26 years in Colorado Springs, the Northwest tugged at my roots.
One morning I was in the kitchen. It must have been a Saturday since my dad was home. My father excitedly started calling for me. “Janny, Janny come here quick!” I ran into the living room wondering what in the world could have happened since my dad was always a calm man, not given to outbursts. We watched, father and daughter, as a bald eagle soared just over the pine trees in our backyard. It was so awesome to see that majestic bird against the backdrop of the blue sky. This was in 1975 when bald eagles were on the endangered species list, so seeing an eagle fly in our backyard was truly a moment of wonder. What I remember most about the experience was the look on my father’s face. He was completely delighted at the sight of the eagle.
Years later, I was living in Colorado Springs. Our home had a sunroom off the master bedroom and my son Jeffrey, who was 4 years old at the time, was in there while I was cleaning. All of a sudden, he started calling for me, “Mommy, mommy, big bird, big bird!” I thought he was seeing one of the many magpies we had in the forested backyard, so I tried to placate him with “Yes, those birds are big aren’t they?” He would have none of that, so I finally went into the sunroom and stared at a golden eagle in a tree about 20 feet away from the window. Jeffrey and I were so mesmerized by the sight, I didn’t even think about grabbing my camera. We watched, mother and son, in complete silence for at least five minutes until the eagle took off. His wingspan must have been six or seven feet, and it was so beautiful I couldn’t speak. To this day, Jeffrey remembers, and he teases me about thinking his big bird was a magpie.
When I saw Toni Canady’s photo of a bald eagle in the Grant County Journal on January 10, I knew I would be making a pilgrimage. Mike and I had an anniversary right after that, so when he asked me what I wanted to do, my answer was clear. “I want to go to Grand Coulee and see if I can get some pictures of bald eagles.” Unfortunately, the only two eagles I saw were too far away to get a good shot. Word got back to Toni, and within a few days she provided me with a color photograph of the picture that appeared in the Journal. I asked Toni what went through her mind when she took this picture. Eagles inspire that feeling of awe in Toni, like they do me. As she took this particular photograph, she thought of her ill father-in-law, who loved eagles, and imagined he would have enjoyed being there with her. Shortly after this picture was taken, Toni’s father-in-law, Louie Canady, passed away. Toni has peace with it knowing he is now flying with the eagles. Those are the tender mercies I’m talking about. The ones that bring peace and meaning.
In a not-too-distant day, I will frame the picture of the eagle, alongside a picture of my father and part of a poem by Don R. Wilkins from Motley, Minnesota.
By strength of wing will soar on high.
My future yet to be
To glide beyond restricting Earth.
Eternity to see.
March 21, 2011
A Wing and a Prayer
Written by Janet Warren
Today, March 21, is my father’s 86th birthday. I was his present on his 33rd birthday, so today is also my birthday. (The answer is 53 for those of you doing the math). I would like to dedicate this week’s column to my father, Richard Fullenwider.
There are little pieces of time in my life that stand out. They are moments when either I was stunned beyond belief, or when I witnessed something that was so breathtaking I stood in awe.
I was stunned when President Reagan was shot. I couldn’t leave the television as I tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap my mind around it. Do you remember where you were when Challenger exploded 25 years ago? I was in my daughter’s first grade classroom and everyone was tuned into the news coverage as it took off. I was paralyzed. A similar experience happened when students were massacred at Columbine High School, an hour away from my home in Colorado Springs.
I am sure all of you, like me, have experienced personal things over the years that have left you numb and not able to catch your breath. Perhaps a break up of a marriage or the death of a loved one taken too soon. Thank goodness my life’s scale has been tipped with more experiences being awed than I have had with being stunned. I consider those moments to be tender mercies.
Two of those memories involve eagles.
I spent the last two years of high school in Spokane, graduating from Mead in 1976. My father was the Boy Scout Executive of the Inland Empire Council for 17 years, beginning when I was a junior in high school. I went away to college after graduating from Mead, but I always considered Spokane my home. Even after living 26 years in Colorado Springs, the Northwest tugged at my roots.
One morning I was in the kitchen. It must have been a Saturday since my dad was home. My father excitedly started calling for me. “Janny, Janny come here quick!” I ran into the living room wondering what in the world could have happened since my dad was always a calm man, not given to outbursts. We watched, father and daughter, as a bald eagle soared just over the pine trees in our backyard. It was so awesome to see that majestic bird against the backdrop of the blue sky. This was in 1975 when bald eagles were on the endangered species list, so seeing an eagle fly in our backyard was truly a moment of wonder. What I remember most about the experience was the look on my father’s face. He was completely delighted at the sight of the eagle.
Years later, I was living in Colorado Springs. Our home had a sunroom off the master bedroom and my son Jeffrey, who was 4 years old at the time, was in there while I was cleaning. All of a sudden, he started calling for me, “Mommy, mommy, big bird, big bird!” I thought he was seeing one of the many magpies we had in the forested backyard, so I tried to placate him with “Yes, those birds are big aren’t they?” He would have none of that, so I finally went into the sunroom and stared at a golden eagle in a tree about 20 feet away from the window. Jeffrey and I were so mesmerized by the sight, I didn’t even think about grabbing my camera. We watched, mother and son, in complete silence for at least five minutes until the eagle took off. His wingspan must have been six or seven feet, and it was so beautiful I couldn’t speak. To this day, Jeffrey remembers, and he teases me about thinking his big bird was a magpie.
When I saw Toni Canady’s photo of a bald eagle in the Grant County Journal on January 10, I knew I would be making a pilgrimage. Mike and I had an anniversary right after that, so when he asked me what I wanted to do, my answer was clear. “I want to go to Grand Coulee and see if I can get some pictures of bald eagles.” Unfortunately, the only two eagles I saw were too far away to get a good shot. Word got back to Toni, and within a few days she provided me with a color photograph of the picture that appeared in the Journal. I asked Toni what went through her mind when she took this picture. Eagles inspire that feeling of awe in Toni, like they do me. As she took this particular photograph, she thought of her ill father-in-law, who loved eagles, and imagined he would have enjoyed being there with her. Shortly after this picture was taken, Toni’s father-in-law, Louie Canady, passed away. Toni has peace with it knowing he is now flying with the eagles. Those are the tender mercies I’m talking about. The ones that bring peace and meaning.
In a not-too-distant day, I will frame the picture of the eagle, alongside a picture of my father and part of a poem by Don R. Wilkins from Motley, Minnesota.
By strength of wing will soar on high.
My future yet to be
To glide beyond restricting Earth.
Eternity to see.
Monday, March 14, 2011
A Golden Touch
Grant County Journal
A Golden Touch
March 14, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
In Greek mythology, King Midas, who was a good king and a kind man is granted a wish. Thinking the economy of his kingdom could be improved with treasure, he quickly wishes that everything he touches will turn to gold. That wish doesn’t turn out too well for King Midas, as all of his food turns to gold and he nearly starves. Even his daughter turns to a statue of gold when he hugs her.
In today’s vernacular, however, the Midas touch is a good thing. It means an uncanny ability for succeeding in every venture, or a golden touch. When I was talking to Glenn Chamberlain last week, the story of Midas came to mind, but with some very important differences. Glenn has been successful at a myriad of undertakings because he recognized opportunities, thought them through, planned, and worked really, really hard. As his wife, Carolyn said, “When Glenn decides to do something, it happens.”
Glenn was in the Air Force in Bremerton but was transferred to Moses Lake in 1962. After four years there, Glenn and Carolyn, who were both raised in Bremerton, decided they liked living on this side of the mountains. Carolyn said, “We lost our webbed feet.” In 1966, Glenn was offered a job at the PUD in Ephrata where he obtained his lineman’s journeyman license. During this time, he became interested in beekeeping. He continued to buy hives and increased his business so it became a full-time job and he had to hire two people to help him. As Carolyn explained, “Glenn has always had two jobs and it allowed me to do what I wanted to do—stay home and raise our eight children.”
After eight years at the PUD, another opportunity presented itself. Glenn bought Enterprise Oxygen, a welding supply and industrial gas business. He decided he didn’t need three full-time jobs, so he quit the PUD. At the time he bought Enterprise Oxygen there were three stores. Under Glenn’s ownership, he grew it to nine stores and branched out into medical supplies. Glenn gives credit to his brother, Gary. “I could not have built such a successful business without my brother. He wasn’t a clock-watcher. If something needed to be done at 10 p.m., Gary was right there with me.” Enterprise Oxygen expanded into Spokane, Walla Walla, Pasco, and Yakima and Glenn got tired of spending so much time on the road. He has always loved to fly—so what did Glenn do? Why he got his pilot’s license, of course, and bought a plane.
A good businessman, like a gambler, not only needs to know when to hold ‘em, but when to fold ‘em, and in 1996, Norco offered to buy Enterprise Oxygen. Glenn knew Norco would come into his market whether he sold it to them or not and decided he didn’t want to become their competitor. He didn’t retire, he just went on to the next adventure.
The Chamberlain girls love horses, so the next episode begins with the purchase of an equestrian center in Spokane. Glenn does not do things in a small way. He began to show horses and actually won the 2000 world championship for Pleasure Driving (Gentlemen) class. Although he no longer shows, the Chamberlains still have six horses. Glenn said, “We have 25 grandchildren, and they need something to ride when they come and visit Grandpa’s farm—although the girls are the ones who like the horses. The boys like the 4-wheelers.” These are some seriously fun grandparents.
Carolyn had her own hobbies. She sewed clothes and decorated cakes. Even now she wonders how she had time to do it all while raising so many children. “Our children were heavily involved in sports and Glenn and I attended every game,” said Carolyn. Glenn, however, not content to sit on the sidelines, became a referee for Varsity football and baseball games. He also found time to serve on City Council for 11 years and as Grant County Commissioner for 4 years. Carolyn always stood beside her husband, supporting him, except when she sat behind him on the seat of a Gold Wing. In 2003 they joined a motorcycle club, the Gold Wing Road Riders Association.
Glenn and Carolyn are long-time members of Rotary International, and Glenn became interested in a Rotary-sponsored literacy program in Guatemala. In true Glenn-fashion, he jumped in with both feet. He made four trips to Guatemala to make sure the program was legitimate and that Guatemala was safe before he began to take Carolyn with him. They just returned from their 12th trip together. I asked Glenn if he had any literacy success stories. He told me about Magdelena.
Magdelena was in the literacy project, but in 8th grade her father died. So that she didn’t have to drop out of school to support her mother, Glenn offered to sponsor Magdelena, paying for her books as well as the money she would have earned had she dropped out of school. Magdelena recently graduated from high school, and because of Glenn her dream of attending the university has been realized. She rides the chicken bus for an hour each Saturday to attend the university. She starts early in the morning and takes five or six classes in a row. Magdelena teaches third grade every morning during the week and studies in the afternoons. Glenn offered to send her more money so she wouldn’t have to work and could take classes during the week, but this is not the custom in Guatemala. It is expected for her to work, so Glenn’s money goes for her tuition and books, and the $100 a month she earns teaching third grade goes to help out her mother.
One of the big draws for Glenn and Carolyn to keep returning to Guatemala is that the literacy project targets the Mayan culture, the poorest of the poor. These humble people are grateful to the Gringos who bring hope to them. Some of the children in the most rural areas Glenn visits have never seen a tall white man with white hair, and are drawn in fascination to him. The Literacy Project has grown over the years, mostly by word of mouth. Glenn and Carolyn return every February, at the beginning of the Guatemalan school year, to distribute books. During the rest of the year, Glenn has managed to find a few things to keep him busy.
I won’t leave you hanging about King Midas. He recognized his error and Dionysus, the god who granted him the favor, allowed Midas to wash away his magical touch in the river Pactolus which turned its sands to shimmering gold.
Glenn Chamberlain does have a Midas touch, but there is nothing magical about it. He looks at the world with a curiosity few possess, and he goes for it. He enriches lives because of it.
To learn more about the Guatemala Literacy Project, visit www.guatemalaliteracy.com.
A Golden Touch
March 14, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
In Greek mythology, King Midas, who was a good king and a kind man is granted a wish. Thinking the economy of his kingdom could be improved with treasure, he quickly wishes that everything he touches will turn to gold. That wish doesn’t turn out too well for King Midas, as all of his food turns to gold and he nearly starves. Even his daughter turns to a statue of gold when he hugs her.
In today’s vernacular, however, the Midas touch is a good thing. It means an uncanny ability for succeeding in every venture, or a golden touch. When I was talking to Glenn Chamberlain last week, the story of Midas came to mind, but with some very important differences. Glenn has been successful at a myriad of undertakings because he recognized opportunities, thought them through, planned, and worked really, really hard. As his wife, Carolyn said, “When Glenn decides to do something, it happens.”
Glenn was in the Air Force in Bremerton but was transferred to Moses Lake in 1962. After four years there, Glenn and Carolyn, who were both raised in Bremerton, decided they liked living on this side of the mountains. Carolyn said, “We lost our webbed feet.” In 1966, Glenn was offered a job at the PUD in Ephrata where he obtained his lineman’s journeyman license. During this time, he became interested in beekeeping. He continued to buy hives and increased his business so it became a full-time job and he had to hire two people to help him. As Carolyn explained, “Glenn has always had two jobs and it allowed me to do what I wanted to do—stay home and raise our eight children.”
After eight years at the PUD, another opportunity presented itself. Glenn bought Enterprise Oxygen, a welding supply and industrial gas business. He decided he didn’t need three full-time jobs, so he quit the PUD. At the time he bought Enterprise Oxygen there were three stores. Under Glenn’s ownership, he grew it to nine stores and branched out into medical supplies. Glenn gives credit to his brother, Gary. “I could not have built such a successful business without my brother. He wasn’t a clock-watcher. If something needed to be done at 10 p.m., Gary was right there with me.” Enterprise Oxygen expanded into Spokane, Walla Walla, Pasco, and Yakima and Glenn got tired of spending so much time on the road. He has always loved to fly—so what did Glenn do? Why he got his pilot’s license, of course, and bought a plane.
A good businessman, like a gambler, not only needs to know when to hold ‘em, but when to fold ‘em, and in 1996, Norco offered to buy Enterprise Oxygen. Glenn knew Norco would come into his market whether he sold it to them or not and decided he didn’t want to become their competitor. He didn’t retire, he just went on to the next adventure.
The Chamberlain girls love horses, so the next episode begins with the purchase of an equestrian center in Spokane. Glenn does not do things in a small way. He began to show horses and actually won the 2000 world championship for Pleasure Driving (Gentlemen) class. Although he no longer shows, the Chamberlains still have six horses. Glenn said, “We have 25 grandchildren, and they need something to ride when they come and visit Grandpa’s farm—although the girls are the ones who like the horses. The boys like the 4-wheelers.” These are some seriously fun grandparents.
Carolyn had her own hobbies. She sewed clothes and decorated cakes. Even now she wonders how she had time to do it all while raising so many children. “Our children were heavily involved in sports and Glenn and I attended every game,” said Carolyn. Glenn, however, not content to sit on the sidelines, became a referee for Varsity football and baseball games. He also found time to serve on City Council for 11 years and as Grant County Commissioner for 4 years. Carolyn always stood beside her husband, supporting him, except when she sat behind him on the seat of a Gold Wing. In 2003 they joined a motorcycle club, the Gold Wing Road Riders Association.
Glenn and Carolyn are long-time members of Rotary International, and Glenn became interested in a Rotary-sponsored literacy program in Guatemala. In true Glenn-fashion, he jumped in with both feet. He made four trips to Guatemala to make sure the program was legitimate and that Guatemala was safe before he began to take Carolyn with him. They just returned from their 12th trip together. I asked Glenn if he had any literacy success stories. He told me about Magdelena.
Magdelena was in the literacy project, but in 8th grade her father died. So that she didn’t have to drop out of school to support her mother, Glenn offered to sponsor Magdelena, paying for her books as well as the money she would have earned had she dropped out of school. Magdelena recently graduated from high school, and because of Glenn her dream of attending the university has been realized. She rides the chicken bus for an hour each Saturday to attend the university. She starts early in the morning and takes five or six classes in a row. Magdelena teaches third grade every morning during the week and studies in the afternoons. Glenn offered to send her more money so she wouldn’t have to work and could take classes during the week, but this is not the custom in Guatemala. It is expected for her to work, so Glenn’s money goes for her tuition and books, and the $100 a month she earns teaching third grade goes to help out her mother.
One of the big draws for Glenn and Carolyn to keep returning to Guatemala is that the literacy project targets the Mayan culture, the poorest of the poor. These humble people are grateful to the Gringos who bring hope to them. Some of the children in the most rural areas Glenn visits have never seen a tall white man with white hair, and are drawn in fascination to him. The Literacy Project has grown over the years, mostly by word of mouth. Glenn and Carolyn return every February, at the beginning of the Guatemalan school year, to distribute books. During the rest of the year, Glenn has managed to find a few things to keep him busy.
I won’t leave you hanging about King Midas. He recognized his error and Dionysus, the god who granted him the favor, allowed Midas to wash away his magical touch in the river Pactolus which turned its sands to shimmering gold.
Glenn Chamberlain does have a Midas touch, but there is nothing magical about it. He looks at the world with a curiosity few possess, and he goes for it. He enriches lives because of it.
To learn more about the Guatemala Literacy Project, visit www.guatemalaliteracy.com.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Real BFFs
Grant County Journal
March 7, 2011
The Real BFFs
Written by Janet Warren
Read any article on starting up your own business, and it will caution you strongly about doing it with a friend. Involving a spouse is pretty much a recipe for disaster. It’s a good thing Dick Moser and Brad Rushton never read those articles.
Back in 1984 the country was just coming out of a recession, although we didn’t know it yet. The official end of the recession was November of 1982. Would it surprise you to know that the official end of the 2008-2009 recession was June 2009? I’m not an economist, but I have plenty of anecdotal evidence that people are still feeling the recession in their lives now, and that is how it was in 1984. Those were scary times, and Dick and Brad weren’t real happy with their jobs. Dick worked for Dewey’s Body Shop in Soap Lake, and the work had pretty much dried up. Brad was a house mover, and there weren’t many houses needing to be moved in 1984. As they were eating lunch at Rushton’s Soap Lake home one day, one sentence changed their lives. “I hear there’s a glass business for sale in Ephrata,” one of the men said.
It wasn’t long after the eventful day at the kitchen table that Dick and Brad took over M & H Glass in Ephrata. “They told me if they did this, they would need a bookkeeper,” said JoAnn Rushton, Brad’s wife. JoAnn quit her job at Northern Steel where she had worked for 11 years and became the bookkeeper/receptionist/paint and window saleswoman and anything-else-that- needed-to-be-done person for the glass company. Dick’s wife, Kerry Moser, was happy with her job at the Grant County Journal and trusted the three of them to run the business.
Brad and Dick bought the company from Kenneth Holterhoff (the ‘H’ in M & H). He started the company in 1950 and later added a partner (Mulroon—the ‘M’ in M & H). Ken had the business up for sale for four years without a nibble until Brad and Dick approached him. Ken took “the boys”, as JoAnn and Kerry refer to their husbands, out into the field to learn the trade. When Dick and Brad found out Ken was still using hand tools to install window frames, they knew right off there would be some changes. Dick said, “Both of us are pretty handy about these things; we’re good at taking things apart and putting them back together…”
“Especially taking them apart,” Brad joked. Glass work came naturally to the boys and they added thousands of dollars of power tools almost immediately. They took over the entire business which includes paint sales and window sales, auto glass and home glass. Since they have been in business almost 27 years now, they figure they have done everyone’s glass two or three times. JoAnn told me that their prices are competitive, so there is no need to go anywhere else for glass repair.
M & H used to service Quincy and Moses Lake, but those towns now have their own glass shops and local support is so good that they limit their house calls to Ephrata, Soap Lake, and Coulee City. The auto glass work is done in their shop which they expanded a few years after they took over the business. Some of the things remain the same, however. They are still driving the 1976 Chevy van to haul glass, although it is now painted yellow. The outside sign is from the 1960s. JoAnn has tried to have it repainted, but she is afraid it might fall apart. Go take a look at it, it’s a cool blast from the past.
For those of you who have been reading my column, you know I like to tell the story behind the story. Can you guess what that is? Brad and Dick are closer friends now than they were when they started this business. They have been friends because of their similar interests since their days at Soap Lake High School. However, liking a person and starting a business in uncertain economic times with that person are two different things. It helped that they both have a really strong work ethic.
I asked Dick to tell me about the most difficult thing they had gone through in their 27 years in business together. I was expecting his answer to have something to do with money, but I was surprised. He told me while he was working on a project, he fell off a platform and did significant damage to one of his feet. He was in a cast for over 10 weeks. But it didn’t stop there. From that fall he also ended up having a disc replaced in his neck and a week later Dick found himself in the hospital with a lung embolism and almost lost his life. While he was telling me this story, he began to get chocked up with emotion. “It was because I had such good partners that it worked.” Brad and JoAnn took up the slack while their friend was recuperating.
“For our business’s 25th anniversary, we all went to Las Vegas. We had so much fun, I think we should go to Vegas every year,” said JoAnn. They close their shop for two weeks after Christmas, and “always on the day after Super Bowl, that’s a given” said Dick. “It’s one of the perks of having your own business in a small town. Most people say ‘good for you.’” When I asked about retirement plans, both Dick and Brad have voiced hope that a couple of hard-working boys will come by and M & H Glass will pass down to another generation. Until then, they enjoy their lives and their friendship.
The pessimist who said, “ ‘If they build it…they will come’ only works with baseball in a cornfield,” never met a couple of boys who built a glass company in Ephrata.
March 7, 2011
The Real BFFs
Written by Janet Warren
Read any article on starting up your own business, and it will caution you strongly about doing it with a friend. Involving a spouse is pretty much a recipe for disaster. It’s a good thing Dick Moser and Brad Rushton never read those articles.
Back in 1984 the country was just coming out of a recession, although we didn’t know it yet. The official end of the recession was November of 1982. Would it surprise you to know that the official end of the 2008-2009 recession was June 2009? I’m not an economist, but I have plenty of anecdotal evidence that people are still feeling the recession in their lives now, and that is how it was in 1984. Those were scary times, and Dick and Brad weren’t real happy with their jobs. Dick worked for Dewey’s Body Shop in Soap Lake, and the work had pretty much dried up. Brad was a house mover, and there weren’t many houses needing to be moved in 1984. As they were eating lunch at Rushton’s Soap Lake home one day, one sentence changed their lives. “I hear there’s a glass business for sale in Ephrata,” one of the men said.
It wasn’t long after the eventful day at the kitchen table that Dick and Brad took over M & H Glass in Ephrata. “They told me if they did this, they would need a bookkeeper,” said JoAnn Rushton, Brad’s wife. JoAnn quit her job at Northern Steel where she had worked for 11 years and became the bookkeeper/receptionist/paint and window saleswoman and anything-else-that- needed-to-be-done person for the glass company. Dick’s wife, Kerry Moser, was happy with her job at the Grant County Journal and trusted the three of them to run the business.
Brad and Dick bought the company from Kenneth Holterhoff (the ‘H’ in M & H). He started the company in 1950 and later added a partner (Mulroon—the ‘M’ in M & H). Ken had the business up for sale for four years without a nibble until Brad and Dick approached him. Ken took “the boys”, as JoAnn and Kerry refer to their husbands, out into the field to learn the trade. When Dick and Brad found out Ken was still using hand tools to install window frames, they knew right off there would be some changes. Dick said, “Both of us are pretty handy about these things; we’re good at taking things apart and putting them back together…”
“Especially taking them apart,” Brad joked. Glass work came naturally to the boys and they added thousands of dollars of power tools almost immediately. They took over the entire business which includes paint sales and window sales, auto glass and home glass. Since they have been in business almost 27 years now, they figure they have done everyone’s glass two or three times. JoAnn told me that their prices are competitive, so there is no need to go anywhere else for glass repair.
M & H used to service Quincy and Moses Lake, but those towns now have their own glass shops and local support is so good that they limit their house calls to Ephrata, Soap Lake, and Coulee City. The auto glass work is done in their shop which they expanded a few years after they took over the business. Some of the things remain the same, however. They are still driving the 1976 Chevy van to haul glass, although it is now painted yellow. The outside sign is from the 1960s. JoAnn has tried to have it repainted, but she is afraid it might fall apart. Go take a look at it, it’s a cool blast from the past.
For those of you who have been reading my column, you know I like to tell the story behind the story. Can you guess what that is? Brad and Dick are closer friends now than they were when they started this business. They have been friends because of their similar interests since their days at Soap Lake High School. However, liking a person and starting a business in uncertain economic times with that person are two different things. It helped that they both have a really strong work ethic.
I asked Dick to tell me about the most difficult thing they had gone through in their 27 years in business together. I was expecting his answer to have something to do with money, but I was surprised. He told me while he was working on a project, he fell off a platform and did significant damage to one of his feet. He was in a cast for over 10 weeks. But it didn’t stop there. From that fall he also ended up having a disc replaced in his neck and a week later Dick found himself in the hospital with a lung embolism and almost lost his life. While he was telling me this story, he began to get chocked up with emotion. “It was because I had such good partners that it worked.” Brad and JoAnn took up the slack while their friend was recuperating.
“For our business’s 25th anniversary, we all went to Las Vegas. We had so much fun, I think we should go to Vegas every year,” said JoAnn. They close their shop for two weeks after Christmas, and “always on the day after Super Bowl, that’s a given” said Dick. “It’s one of the perks of having your own business in a small town. Most people say ‘good for you.’” When I asked about retirement plans, both Dick and Brad have voiced hope that a couple of hard-working boys will come by and M & H Glass will pass down to another generation. Until then, they enjoy their lives and their friendship.
The pessimist who said, “ ‘If they build it…they will come’ only works with baseball in a cornfield,” never met a couple of boys who built a glass company in Ephrata.
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