Archives for category: History

Magic Moments – Gardner Mansion

July 29, 2013 //

A friend once told me to watch for the “Magic Moments” when I traveled, meaning the treasures you stumble onto while you’re winding along your planned route. Here’s a little one I had near Broken Bow, OK.

Having worked in a big museum for over seven years, until I retired last fall, I’m well aware of what goes on behind the scenes of exhibitions and collections. I also have a great appreciation for the little museums that are sometimes passed by without a second thought, the ones that you never think you “have to see” while you’re in the area. Outside of Broken Bow, in southeastern Oklahoma near the Mountain Fork River, is the Gardner Mansion Museum. I saw the signs, read about it in the tourist websites, but almost missed it and that would have been a shame. What drew me in was the sign about the 2,000 year old Cypress tree on the grounds. I’ve seen lots of old houses and mansions, so I might have skipped it but for the tree.

I called first and got no answer, but saw the gate open while passing by. You can’t see the house from the highway so you go through the farm gates and up the road. When you reach the house, you see a sign to honk for help. I’m sure we had been seen because there was a truck headed our way as we parked the car.

An elderly man and a younger man, probably his grandson, got out of the truck and we paid our admission fee. This was definitely a smaller staff than the museum where I had worked.

We walked to the house…

and he unlocked the door, walking to a chair where he sat down on the glassed in porch. There was a display of dinosaur bones and beautiful huge hunks of quartz. The information by each one said it was found in the area. When we started asking questions, our guide opened up and told us his history as well as shared his knowledge of the treasures we were seeing.

The Gardner Mansion was the home of Jefferson Gardner, a much beloved chief of the Choctaw Nation. He had built his home on this site in 1881, completing it in 1884, on this site that was part of the Trail of Tears for his nation. In 1922, the Stiles family had purchased the property and have maintained and preserved it for three generations. We were visiting with Mr. Stiles himself, the current curator of this museum. He told us stories of the Choctaw and of the dinosaur bones he had found as a child on the property. One had been found just recently. He explained to me how you get the quartz out of the ground, showing off a piece about a foot or more across that a long time friend had found and given him right before he died.

After a bit, I guess we passed muster, so we were taken into the main house. I’m not sure if you get past the porch if he doesn’t trust you. He unlocked the door and we entered the main areas where there were more artifacts to see. In the kitchen, I found lots of old utensils and dishes of the era. In the living room, he showed us a model of the house and photos of Chief Gardner and others, telling stories of the indians as we looked around. Here’s Mr. Stiles showing us some items, including the hand-carved staircase and other Choctaw craftsmanship used in the home…

Once again, I guess we asked the right questions, because we were taken upstairs. There was a treasure trove of indian artifacts including ancient tools, arrowheads, and natural items from the land. I stupidly didn’t see the signs in front of me saying no pictures, so I took a few. Later, I apologized to him, but he said it was ok. He didn’t want too many getting out because the items are quite valuable. Not like he has a security force there, so I understood and won’t pass those along. Here’s some of the hornet nests he’s collected during his life (he’s been on the property since he was 5)…

He showed us some ancient tools he’d recently found. The cows kick up the ground and these kinds of antiquities rise to the surface. Really a remarkable collection.

After we left the house, we drove to see the 2,000 year old Cypress. He showed us a picture of it with a man dwarfed by the trunk, much like the Sequoias in California. Unfortunately, the tree had fallen last year. Trees die, as Mr. Stiles said. We went to see it anyway, although it turned out there wasn’t much left. Nature was reclaiming its own.

The area had other large Cypress and you could picture the Choctaw trudging through the land, searching for the place where they could stop and live their lives in peace. Very ethereal back in the woods, along the water.

On the way back to the house, we stopped to snap a picture of the cemetery. Mr. Stiles and his grandson had chores to do, so we didn’t want to keep them. Wouldn’t you love to know the stories of those buried here?

If you’re ever in this remote area, stop and visit the Stiles family. Or find another magic moment along the way, wherever you’re traveling. It makes your trip so much richer…

Tags Broken Bow, Choctaw, Gardner Mansion, history, Mountain Fork River, museum, Oklahoma, travel

Categories Art, History, Nature, Places, Travel, Uncategorized

Guide to Okemah & Woody Guthrie Festival

July 12, 2013 //

Last year I finally got to Okemah, OK, home of Woody Guthrie in his youth and site of the annual Woody Guthrie Festival. Last year was his 100th birthday celebration. It’s going on right now, this weekend, for his 101st! Somehow, I know he would like the way they do it up in Okemah!

Okemah would probably be lost without their native son, whom they didn’t talk about for years because of his controversial ties to the Communist Party. Time heals and history becomes more clear and now they’re so proud of Woody and his roots. Rightfully so.

When you get out of your car on the Main Street, you can find someplace with a map…at least during the festival you can. You’ll want to see the park with the statue of Woody, probably life size. He wasn’t very big.

During the festival there are concerts throughout the day at the old Crystal Theatre that has been restored. Not very cool, so bring a fan…

Last year I listened to Ronny Cox, movie star, musician, and watched him visit with fans as he sold his CDs on the hot street after he played.

The old Main Street was open for the visitors who came from all over, many fans of folk festivals who travel from one to the other. You can see concerts in the theater and in the bar a couple of blocks down…

Last year, I saw Carolyn Hester, one of my favorites from my 60s love of folk singers. She is a little less now, but there were traces of her beautiful voice and I was able to get a CD of the album that had been my favorite back in college. Way back…

There were lectures from experts on Woody Guthrie and time to visit with his sister, who was a delight and had just written a book. Everything was pretty down home and friendly.

Then I toured Okemah. The Main Street and a bar that hasn’t changed, screen door still swinging…

A mural proclaiming the town’s claim to fame these days…

Old houses tucked into the neighborhoods, showing days past…

And the site where they are raising money to rebuild the Guthrie’s original home…

The unique water towers are also a source of pride and a move is on to restore them…or at least not let them be destroyed…who else has Hot, Cold and Woody Guthrie towers?

In the evening, there are concerts in the Pastures of Plenty and RVs, campers, tents hold the faithful and the fans who wait for the cool of the night to listen to those glorious sounds. It’s a bit, a big one, of Americana that will surely touch your heart with its simplicity and its love for the messages Woody left us.

I headed home, stopping to watch a typical Oklahoma cloud forming on a hot July day, rising into the sky. This Land is Our Land.

I recommend you visit the festival, if not this year then some year, and then drive over to Tulsa to tour the Woody Guthrie Center and walk through the Guthrie Green. You’re sure to run across a musician or two or three, some young, some old, that will make you tap your feet and smile. I think Woody would like it all…

Tags Crystal Theater, events, festivals, folk music, music, Okemah Ok, Oklahoma, travel, Woody Guthrie, Woody Guthrie Center

Categories Art, Entertainment, Events, History, Memories, Music, Places, Reflections, Travel

The Character Test

June 28, 2013 //

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” Abraham Lincoln

I watched “American Experience” on PBS the other night, a profile of Henry Ford. He was the classic American story of a farm boy who went to the city and changed the world. He was for the American people, he was one of them, us. He was doing what was right for the masses and not just for the rich, an idealist if there ever was one. But, somewhere along the line, he changed into an example of how power changes men and egos become more important than anything. Power has been a problem for humans…forever!

Ford became more and more convinced that he knew what was right for his workers, for all people. If they would just live the way he knew was right for them, then they would all be happy. He took credit for everything, even his son’s accomplishments, belittling him at the same time. If there was ever a direct cause for cancer, it would be Edsel Ford’s stomach cancer after a lifetime of his father telling him what he was doing wrong, mainly because it wasn’t the way Henry would do it. Ford was a great man in many ways, but his failings as a person are directly linked to his growing power until he became the wealthiest man in America. He criticized the wealthy while living in a 31,000 sq foot gated house on hundreds of acres and never saw the irony. He was an American icon, but he was a greater person when he had nothing.

I was thinking of some of the careers I’ve had in my life. There were two places I worked where I thought I would stay until I retired, both nonprofits, although I’ve worked in the corporate world, too. Both were magnificent organizations, both were nationally known for their work. I was part of a team, a team of friends. We didn’t just work together, we loved each other, took care of each other. We complemented each other, made our goals, made a difference. These were dream jobs, the kind that everybody wants.

Both jobs fell apart and it reminds me of both Lincoln’s quote and Henry Ford. Both were due to the leader of the organization, the paid leader. One was because of the leader’s ineptness. When things at the top didn’t go so well, he took no blame but began to scourge the organization, starting with the most threatening departments, the ones who were too close to each other and too good. It was an insidious process, one that probably broke all kinds of human resource laws as well as being a disgrace to human decency. This man in particular was given too much power with too little ability. He didn’t ask for help, he just flailed away, whittling away at employee morale until what had been heaven as a workplace had become a daily hell. When he left, he, of course, was sent to another city in a higher position, taking with him the power to decimate another city’s chapter. And, it’s taken years for the local organization to finally get back on an even keel, financially and by reputation in the community.

The second time I lived through this, the leader saw himself as the savior of the organization, the only one who could lead us to the future. We all need leaders with vision, but there is something to be said for a vision that includes people. He was all about numbers, hitting goals no matter how it was done. His praise when a goal was met rang false when you listened to him taking credit for every accomplishment. There was a feeling that you were working to build his resume so that he could move higher in his next position. And, as the staff met every goal, his ego grew. Now he alone knew what would work best, what the city needed. He was making decisions in a vacuum or with a select team of yes people around him, not consulting with most of the staff or the board of directors. The tension among the staff was a slow vibration that grew until it was a constant hum in the workplace. A virus was sickening the building, affecting the mental health of those who were smart enough to see what was happening and numbing those who couldn’t afford to get out.

I sound kind of brutal about these things. I’m not naive about business or the reality of even the dream places to work, the models like Google or Pixar or QuikTrip. There are always problems in the workplace, just like families or clubs or religious organizations or any group that is populated by human beings. I wish I had the answers, but none of us is perfect. We need to study the stories of those who were given power and didn’t abuse it, who actually valued people first and took their power to do what was right. Why are those names harder to conjure up without thinking about it?

Someone once told me I had strong character because of the things life has thrown at me. I say I’ve had all the character building experiences I want. Dealing with what life brings you is what we have to do to survive and be as happy as we can with what we have. I can give you a long list of friends I admire who have done that and continue to inspire others with their ability to adapt.

Power is something we all think we would like. We use words like powerless or empowered all the time. Politicians work so hard to get the power to accomplish whatever they went into politics to do and then have to compromise their ideals to keep the power. It’s a vicious circle for them. Good men and women become corrupted by power, sucked in by the rush of that strong urge. I’m not sure there is a way to tell who will fall victim to those seductive perks of power…we’ve all seen good people fall.

Now, I’m rambling on about it, so I’ll quit with nothing resolved. I just don’t like to see people hurt by other people. Ever.

Tags character, corruption, people, power, workplace

Categories Friends, History, Reflections

Lessons Learned at a 50th Reunion

June 9, 2013 //

In the aftermath of a fun 50th high school reunion weekend, there are lessons to be learned and shared for those who love reunions, those dread them, those who never go to them. The 50th is a unique milestone, one that always seemed, to me at least, an event way off in the distance. Now it’s behind us and I think we all were surprised and warmed by the reality of it. Here are my top 10 thoughts:

One. There is a little sharing of what’s going on with the kids, sharing pictures of the grandkids, but it’s not the main thing people talked about. In fact, it was the least thing talked about. Sorry kids. We are much more interesting people as ourselves than you think. Our peers know this.

Two. There were people who attended that I was afraid would feel alone in the crowd, didn’t know if their friends were attending because I didn’t know them that well in high school. I never saw anyone who stayed alone. Maybe it’s because we all look so different now, but classmates introduced themselves to everyone. They were genuinely interested in meeting them and hearing their stories.

Three. The conversations were on a deeper level. In bars and restaurants after the events, at breakfast, lunch, casual conversations, people were discussing the important things in life. Nothing was judgmental, just sharing stories and understanding what life throws at you. Everyone has a story, an interesting one.

Four. There was no division of groups, cliques. Sure, people sat with their closest friends when they could, but people rarely sat still. Everyone was looking for someone they wanted to see or meet. Everybody was interested in the stories of their classmates.

Five. Nobody cared how you looked then or now. Of course it was sometimes amusing or sad or surprising to see how different or how much the same some were, but everybody understands that it’s a combination of life style, genetics and pure luck that we are here at all. There were a lot of classmates with minor to major disabilities, but that was part of their story. We were celebrating that we’re still standing, we’re still here.

Six. You never know what life is going to bring. At the 50th, many were retiring and diving into new interests or careers. We had lots of authors, photographers, travelers in this new stage. People were moving after lifetimes in one place, leaving their homes and friends, to start new adventures closer to their children and grandchildren or just moving to new places. It’s an ever changing time of life being 67-68 years old.

Seven. People commented that they made new friends. Not because they didn’t like the other in high school, but because they didn’t know them then. They met and found common interests and a common past.

Eight. There are a lot of things buried in our memories that just need a trigger to recover. Our 92 year old Latin teacher came from 4 hours away to inspire us once again. She called all her former students to the front with her and then told us to sing. After 50 or more years, the words, most of them, to Gaudeamus Igitur came from our mouths like we sang them yesterday. Who knew that was in there? In fact, I looked it up today and am really touched by what the song says.

Gaudeamus igitur
Iuvenes dum sumus.
Post iucundam iuventutem
Post molestam senectutem
Nos habebit humus.

The translation is:
Let us rejoice, therefore,
While we are young.
After a pleasant youth
After a troubling old age
The earth will have us.

What a wise teacher and what a gift to us to sing something we learned in our youth that means so much more today.

Also, when the band played the songs of our youth, we knew all the words and our bodies moved the same to the music. Talk about muscle memory! We can still party like it’s 1963. Maybe not as long, but the spirit of our teen years lives on.

Nine. Hugs are universally healing. A weekend of hugs and kisses from those who shared your youth does wonders for your health and attitude. There were lots and lots of hugs.

Ten. A classmate wrote afterwards that he realized how much we all need “love, belonging and connection.” That was what it was all about in the end.

The nicest thing is that we are so connected in this place in time when there is no excuse to lose the glow of the weekend. Our class has a website, a Facebook page, and addresses. There were more people adding contacts to their phones, sharing pictures, writing down information than ever before. Those connections mean even more now because we understand that our time is precious and we want to enrich it with the best people we have encountered in our lives.

If you never attend a reunion, I’m sorry. They only get better with time…

Tags 50th reunion, children, Friends, Gaudeamus igitur, high school, memories, photos, reunion, school

Categories Events, Friends, History, Memories, Reflections

My high school reunion history…

June 4, 2013 //

I graduated from high school 50 years ago. 50 YEARS AGO!!! That’s hard to say, hard to imagine. Really? Where did all that time go? How did it pass so quickly? I was in a great class, a class of about 650 that produced 26 National Merit semi-finalists, had excellent teachers and a whole lot of fun. This week is our reunion, which makes me think about all of our reunions…I’ve been on every committee.

The 10th reunion was in 1973. The committee had to have calling sessions to find everyone, using our high school directory to call parents’ homes, phone directories, information. We sent out newsletters, printed with a fun logo drawn by one of our artist classmates, using the name of the student paper when we were in school. We worked hard to find everyone we could. The excuses for not coming that year were mostly due to lack of funds or having babies, we were in our childbearing years. Actaully, I had just had my third child a few months before – there were many of us with new babies on the committee. We ended up with about 200 attending, including spouses. We had lost some classmates and found out that some of the people we knew really hated high school and never wanted to remember anything. Many came home to see family while they were at the reunion.

Friday night was the night where you broke the ice, greeted everyone, met their spouses, and caught up on what was going on in their lives. We rocked out to records at the studio where we first took dance lessons. We still knew all the moves.

We had an Assembly at the school on Saturday. Some of our former teachers attended and we pretty much did a traditional assembly, as I feebly recall.

Saturday night, we dressed to impress and went to the fanciest country club in town. Hairstyles ranged from shags to intricate, high updos. The men had longer hair than when we graduated and mustaches were in. The clothes were loud, the times were fast. We gave awards for who had been married the longest, which went to a classmate who married while we were still in school, most children, most unusual profession (jockey), who traveled the farthest to get there, and best preserved male and female bodies (last time we ever gave that award). We were pretty groovy, dancing to a popular local band, dressed in the latest styles.

We published a directory after the reunion with all the updated addresses and phone numbers we had found so people could stay in touch.

By our twentieth reunion, we were kind of in a groove. We went through the same steps to find everyone, using printed labels for our mailings. The committee worked long hours, finding we had lost more classmates and couldn’t find others who had moved in the past decade. We were still using our old class directory and the phone to locate everyone. We’d lost more people along the way. The excuses for not coming were jobs, money, small children. We still got about 200 to show up.

The schedule for the 20th was about the same. We were noticing that the girls were becoming women and the guys looked like they were starting to lose their looks, or so we whispered. There were a few new spouses, divorce already beginning to take its toll. The list of deceased was growing. We had an elaborate slide show at our assembly, set to the song “Memories.” Teachers still came to the events and we realized they weren’t as old as they had seemed in high school. We were getting older, heading for middle age. There were those who timidly showed up on Friday, wondering how they’d be received, wondering if they’d know anyone, and left on Saturday feeling part of the group. We started to care less about what had happened in high school, the cliques were beginning to loosen.

We had a directory and a t-shirt to remember. This time the directory was copies of forms people had sent in with bios and pictures. We were a little more sophisticated these days. Our design was created by one of our classmates who was always an artist, now a professional one.

By 1993, we were ready for our 30th reunion. We had lost the heart of the reunions, our inspiring leader, and others stepped up to fill his place. The committee meetings were still the most fun, catching up with each other, helping to make the calls to locate classmates. We could still find some through the old class directory, some through calling their friends. We’d lost more in the decade, our list was growing smaller. The excuses for not coming as we approached our 40s were money, children now graduating from school or in school activities, jobs. There were still about 200 there, not even the same 200. We went through the casual evening, the class assembly, the dressy dinner dance. Now people showed up on Friday hoping they’d recognize our rapidly changing faces. We had picture nametags that year. You could see how we looked in high school and look up to see how we looked right then. The women still seemed to be getting better. The men were balding, going gray, more mature, still cute!

It was fun to see if those class prophecies had come true in any way. Our beauty queens were still beautiful, our jocks were still looking pretty fit, the smartest ones were still smart. But, not everything stays the same, thank goodness. Some of those who had lived too hard were beginning to show it. The guy who got the award at our 10th reunion for cutting the most days of classes our senior year was now president of a bank. One of the smart ones who went to Rice and got an engineering degree had married, divorced, quit big business and gone to Colorado. He was Mayor of Winter Park & loving the mountain life. Never would have dreamed it, but he was happier than ever. And we’d lost more of our favorite classmates along the way. Two of our classmates met for the first time at the reunion and married a year later.

We did another t-shirt and directory, much like the last one. We were beginning to celebrate each other as much as the memories. We were an interesting bunch.

By the time the 40th reunion rolled around, we were different, the world was much different in 2003 than in 1963, 1973, 1983, 1993. We’d been through Viet Nam, The Beatles, the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, the changing of the century, and 9/11. We’d battled divorce, moves, heart attacks, cancer, raising children and becoming grandparents. Some of us were caring for our parents. In fact, the excuses for not coming this time were the most varied yet. There were those with young children because they’d started late or were on a second or more marriage. There were college graduations, jobs, kids, illnesses and parents. We had classmates with AIDS. We were in the Sandwich era of our lives, between our children and our parents. Would there ever be a time that was just about us? We still managed to get about 200 to attend.

Technology was changing faster than we could have imagined and we had the internet. We purchased a website and got it up and running. This would be our last time to do the hours of phone calling. Once we got the information on the site, classmates could keep updating it as we went along, adding bios and pictures, doing the work for us. We didn’t have to do a directory and we didn’t do t-shirts. We were moving with the times.

We hadn’t cut away from the tradition of the casual night, the assembly and the dressy night yet. People still came Friday night, worrying if they would recognize or remember anyone. The pictures were on the name tags again. The Assembly was replaced by a tour of the old school, walks down the halls where some of our classmates could still find their pictures celebrating their athletic achievements. People toured the city to see the changes. We had golf for those who wanted it.

On Saturday night, we were still rocking to the band. The songs were the same, oldies now. Classic oldies…just like us. We made new friends with old classmates we hadn’t known then. Two more classmates married after the reunion. We were valuing these people who had shared our youth with us, who they had been and who they had become.

This time, we produced a DVD that incorporated all the slides and photos from the past with current interviews. We were changing with the times and shaking our heads at the things that had gone by the wayside.

We had so much fun at the 40th and realized how many people we were losing at a faster rate that we decided to have a mini-reunion – a 45th. We did one casual night, thinking it would be mostly for classmates who lived close by. The band was guys our age, playing our music. Amazingly, 75-80 came from all over the country. It was easy and fun. We were still rocking, still here and breathing! Some could still jump, we looked older and wiser.

The 50th! Good grief! We have lost so many people over the years, close to 100 that we know about, probably more. The 50th is here. We used the website, mail and email to contact people. We’ve added a Facebook page. This reunion is about celebrating us, celebrating that we are still here. We’ll have 175-200 for this one, some who have never been before. We’ll have larger type on the name tags, but no pictures. Everyone wonders if they’ll recognize anyone or remember anyone. We have two teachers who can come…one is 92 and will speak to our group. The other is not that much older than we are – we were her first pupils out of school.

The excuses this time are children and grandchildren, surgeries, illnesses, money, busy retirement schedules, work schedules and even Japanese Parliament not getting out in time. A former Ambassador to Saudi Arabia is coming in from Dubai. The President of our Student Council and our class Vice-President both have Alzheimer’s. One classmate just had back surgery, several with knee and hip surgeries. Some are hobbling to the reunion however they can. Our will is strong, our bodies starting to need replacement parts. We are distinguished, fun-loving, casual, full of life and representing everything that happens to us in a lifetime.

This time there is nothing to impress anyone. We’re going to be in the heart of all the happening things in Tulsa right now, right in the middle of the Arts District. We’ll meet early at a bar with a patio and then everyone can do the Art Walk, watch fireworks from the baseball stadium, get a fancy meal, enjoy their special group of friends, or tuck in early. Anyway you want it. Saturday night we meet at historic Cain’s Ballroom for barbecue, wearing comfortable shoes and casual clothes. We have t-shirts again and the band is back from the 45th, classmates of ours, to bring back the oldies. Everyone is excited to see whoever comes. We laugh that we’ll have a whole new group of friends by the end of the weekend. Our Facebook page has 70 members now and is lighting up with excitement and memories. We’ll be there with our cell phones and iPads, today’s brag books of pictures of our beloved children and grandchildren. We’ll share experiences, travel stories, memories. We’ll have our cameras! Our aging Eagles are flying in to celebrate!

I’ll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, Rock On Class of 1963!

Tags 1963, 50th reunion, Edison, family, Friends, high school, reunion, Tulsa

Categories Events, Family, Friends, History, Memories, Places, Reflections, Uncategorized

Connecting Personally & Quickly

June 2, 2013 //

First there were letters, then the telephone to keep us connected to the family and friends we couldn’t see every day. Amazing how many years those worked for us, isn’t it? It’s astonishing to think about what a short time it’s been. Fifteen years ago, I had a mobile phone – I think it was a bag phone that I kept in the car for special use. I had a computer that was mainly for word processing. I had an answering machine. In my grandchildren’s lifetimes, look what has happened…

I can judge the dates by my life, by what i was using when my husband died fifteen years ago. Since that time, we all began using the internet and email. Bag phones became mobile phones became cell phones became smart phones. Chat rooms became My Space and then Facebook. Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest…it goes on and on. Computers morphed into PCs, Macs and then laptops and iPads/tablets. Texting & messaging. All in such a short time.

Technology changes all the time, faster, faster. Who can keep up with the latest. Look at the 3-D copiers that will change medicine and other things in our lives, especially great for us old people who need replacement parts.

Life is all about change. Some of us do it with more ease, but we all have to deal with it. There are those of all ages who escape to the wilderness or into their own world, trying to ignore all that is happening, but it keeps coming.

At my age, or at any age, there are those who embrace it and those who are perplexed by it. I have 90 year old friends on Facebook and young friends who avoid it. I’m one who loves the new technology. I sometimes find it funny that I spend so little time on the phone when I used to spend hours talking with my friends. Actually, I do spend time on the phone. We don’t talk, but we text, read our Facebook pages, look at photos. When I first had grandchildren, we had brag books. Now we keep our photos on our phones & tablets. Always with us.

Traveling with an iPhone and iPad, or whatever you use, is the best. I love the maps, the camera, having the internet at my fingertips, being able to connect with family and friends from wherever I am. So easy to use that my 3 year old granddaughter and a 90 year old friend use them with ease.

Email, the internet, Facebook – all ways that we find and connect with those from our present and our past. Facebook keeps me in touch with friends and relatives from throughout my life. We share jokes, photos, memories. I keep in touch with my children and grandchildren and their friends and know what they are doing in this fast paced world. I don’t have to use SKYPE or FaceTime since all of my family is near, but it’s a treasure for my friends with family spread out. I don’t have to wait for Christmas letters or even daily letters to see what everyone looks like, how their families are growing, what is happening in their lives.

I look back and remember ways that we kept in touch fondly and regret the things that we no longer have or do, but I rejoice in the things we have now. We can bring our phones with us in remote areas and take pictures that can be instantly shared (if we have coverage). We can take pictures and videos on the spot without lugging lots of equipment with us all the time…it’s important to me to capture moments in time to jog my memory later. I know my family and friends in a different way as we share posts, photos, videos, thoughts. Even my fancier camera connects to all the other gadgets I use to communicate.

There’s always nostalgia for simpler times, but there is also joy in embracing the new and what it can bring us. One of my daughters recently got a message on her phone that mystifies and amuses us. We don’t know how it got there, but it appears to be a message from her brother, my son, from the great whereafter. We choose to just embrace the mystery and smile at the thought that maybe he reached across to her, to us. Who knows what the future will bring? Wouldn’t it be interesting if that bridge to the unknown was crossed?

Technology is moving fast. It’s fun to try to keep up and even more fun to share each others lives. Time is moving fast…too fast. I’m grateful to be able to share each day with family and friends, old and new. I’m grateful for all the technology that makes it so instant. I’m mostly grateful that I have so many to share with.

Tags communication, Facebook, family, Friends, iPad, iPhone, travel

Categories Family, Friends, History, Memories, Reflections, Travel

I Heart Paul!

May 30, 2013 //

It’s been 49 years since I first saw Paul. I was a freshman in college and he and his friends in the band with the funny name, The Beatles, were on Ed Sullivan and we watched him on a small television hanging out the window of our dorm to get reception from Oklahoma City to Stillwater. He was the cute one, the one who has always looked so young. Their hair was longer than the preppy boys we knew and even longer than the real cowboys studying at Oklahoma State University. We loved them. We wanted to hold their hand, yes we did.

I love music – can’t sing at all but love to anyway. At that time in my life, I was equally divided between my love of folk music – Peter, Paul & Mary, Joan Baez, The Kingston Trio – and rock & roll. The Beatles came right after President Kennedy was assassinated, warping the innocent world we had lived in. They were fun, irreverent, witty, and talented beyond belief, a welcome respite from contemplating the horrors of the new real world. Their songs and the beat locked into our hearts. Love, love me do.

After college, The Beatles and I moved on. I started having kids and being a kind of grown-up. I still listened to their music, but it got lost in Sesame Street and Burl Ives sings for children. They married and had kids, too. We all went on with our lives, but they were always there. They were such a part of our times, our culture and we lived every dramatic event with them, watching their music evolve just as all our lives did. They broke up just as the first of our friends were getting divorced. Their drama was our drama on public stages. The Beatles were the background of our lives, our youth continuing as we got older.

Paul married Linda and lived and loved, just as many of us did. She got cancer, just as many of our friends did. She died exactly a month to the day after my husband died of cancer. Katie Couric’s husband died around then too…we all had the same sad bond. Life goes on and we all went with it.

Earlier this year, I happened on a PBS special, “Kisses on the Bottom,” with Paul McCartney in the old Capitol studio singing an intimate concert of the old standards that his parents, my parents too, had listened to and included one new song, “My Valentine,” that he wrote for his new wife. It was such a wonderful concert, showing the man at his best and most gracious with other great musicians. His generosity to other performers, his love of the music, his humor all showed in this wonderful hour. He sang my mother’s favorite song, “Always,” and touched my heart. I downloaded the album immediately and saved the program.

When the announcement was made that Paul was coming to Tulsa, I grabbed a friend, one I’ve known since we were 9, and got tickets. A splurge – they’re not cheap – but a kind of bucket list thing. We were going to see Paul, one of The Beatles, in person!

Last night was the concert. It was amazing, he was amazing. How many millions did it cost to design and create the incredible staging? Lights, video, photos, sound, a crew of hundreds. It took a long time to get in, we got a t-shirt because you had to do it, didn’t you? When he finally took the stage, it was instant rapport with the audience. He took a minute to drink it all in. The show was incredible…the music, the fun! I took pictures with my phone, fuzzy but proof that I was there, memories of the evening.

Here are my thoughts…

*Paul McCartney still looks like a kid. Granted, he looked older by the end of that incredible almost three hour show after never leaving the stage for over two hours and then returning for two long encores, but he looks terrific for 70.
*He still seems to genuinely appreciate what has happened to him, is still a little bit amused and honored by it. This doesn’t come off as fake at all. He is very personable.
*Paul is a fabulous musician, not to mention songwriter. Paul’s music is classic. He plays piano, lots of guitars, ukelele and plays them well.
*This is what rock & roll is all about. He is great, a real rock & roller – he can scream with the best of them. Woo!
*He appreciates his audience and never quits thanking them, acknowledging them. This is a sign of an accomplished pro who knows what it’s all about.
*The songs of our youth are locked in our brains and hearts. You may not have heard them for decades and all the words come back and you sing along. I can’t remember much of what I hear today – some is great, some just doesn’t stay with me.
*The concert was not just old people, but all ages. What fun to share with your kids and grandkids or with your parents and grandparents.
*Paul sang for his new wife, “My Valentine,” sang a song he wrote for Linda, sang for John and George. I was touched when he turned to look at photos of George while singing. He didn’t have to do that, but seemed to want to see his old friend, to remember.
*This concert was not an old man doing the music that made him famous. This was a concert that seemed new and fresh even with old songs. Music for the ages.
*You’re never too old to rock, apparent by the legions of white haired fans rocking the music. Cool! Still got some moves left…
*I had the feeling I was in the presence of greatness. He IS a legend after all.

So, after the pyrotechnics during “Live & Let Die,” the thrill of the crowd singing “Hey Jude” at the end before the two encores, we left the concert after 11:30 and headed home.

Thank you, Paul. You are just so dang cute! Maybe cuter than when we met when I was 18. 49 years ago.

Tags 1960s, concert, music, Paul McCartney, The Beatles

Categories Art, Entertainment, Events, Friends, History, Memories, Music, Reflections

Adventures Close to Home

May 22, 2013 //

Being a true Okie girl and proud of it doesn’t mean I’m an expert on our beautiful state. Like most people I know, I don’t always visit the places closest to me. I know people who’ve lived in California for most of their lives and never been to Yosemite, which is hard to imagine. We take things and people close to us for granted. It’s like the old saying that an expert is someone from 50 miles away. If we do venture out of our hometowns, it’s usually to the nearest lake or to the bigger city or to see relatives. Exploring is going out of state, out of the country. And look at all we miss…

I’ve been to all but a handful of our 50 states and I’ve traveled out of the country to various places. Each has its own beauty, history, enchanting stories, individual people. Each is unique in its own way. I treasure my time everywhere but I’m always glad to get home. In our family, we used to sing “Oklahoma” as we crossed the state line. Home is home, even if it’s not where you grew up.

Anyway, I’m sort of retired and want to see all I’ve missed and overlooked in the world around me…at least as much as I can. I’d always wanted to see more of the southeast corner of Oklahoma, intrigued by photos of cypress trees, having seen the lush forests, so I started digging around on the internet. Broken Bow Lake is supposed to be gorgeous with Beaver’s Bend State Park at the southern end, so that’s where I started. While looking for places to stay, I found there were places on the river…who doesn’t love a river or creek running by?

South and east from Tulsa is a beautiful drive, especially in the spring when we’ve had a lot of rain and everything in the countryside is lush and green. The Indian Paintbrush and other wildflowers were blooming along the highway, spreading across fields in some places. You begin to forget whatever you had been focusing on at home…just enjoying the view. The further south you go, the lusher it gets. You’re also headed for the area called Little Dixie due to the southerners who moved there after the Civil War. I didn’t see any Confederate flags, but there were signs that make you smile…

Oklahoma is a conservative state, to say the least, although there are plenty of opinions to go around on any political issue. I wasn’t here for politics, just to enjoy the beauty. The road stretched before my friend and me as I tried to capture some of what I was enjoying through my dashboard pictures. You’ll get the idea, even with windshield glare and bug splatters…

For those who don’t know Oklahoma, we have hills and valleys, pine forests, blackjack oaks with their twisted strong limbs, greenery everywhere. That’s just one of the many ecosystems in our state, which has more than any other. If you only picture tallgrass prairie or the plains or the flatness of western Oklahoma, then you have a limited view. I just learned that the Kiamichi Mountains in southeast Oklahoma, mountains probably named by the French traders and not the Indians as you would think, are older than the Rockies, which is why they are smaller, smoother. The Rockies are jagged and younger. But that’s another geology lesson…

This trip, we didn’t take the Talimena Scenic Drive, a gorgeous loop drive between Oklahoma and Arkansas, although I’ve been before and will go again. We were in the Ouachita National Forest (promounced Wash-i-ta), making me so grateful for the National Parks System which protects and manages our natural resources. We started to see the pine trees, the pine forests, and signs of logging in the area to provide for the paper industry.

It’s a fer piece to get to where were going, as we say around here. We really don’t say that, but I like the phrase. It was a 3 1/2 hour drive. We took the loop through Beaver’s Bend State Park, stopping to see the Broken Bow Lake, one of Oklahoma’s many.

The park was beautiful with creeks and activities, campgrounds and beautiful cabins to rent. I can only anticipate the activity as summer begins…we ventured on south to Mountain Fork River and the cabin we had rented. It was a pleasant experience from the time I first found it. A call to the owners, a deposit on a credit card. That was it. Off the highway, down the roads, down country roads…

When we arrived, we stopped at their home, greeted by smiling dogs, gave them cash for the balance and went on down the road. Not a form to fill out or anything. Just folks.

The cabin was delightful. We had picked the one closest to the water and it was perfect. I’d pictured something more rustic, but it was lovely…could sleep 1-6 easily. One of the reasons this one had stood out was the fact that there were boats included in the reasonable price. We could have and might have gone on a longer float trip, but there were canoes, kayaks and flatbottom boats right there for us to use. Just pick one out and go…no hassle, no making reservations, nothing. Easy…

One surprise was how much cane or bamboo was around our cabin and the area. I thought they must have brought it in, but it has been there for a long time I found out later. The great treat was the cypress trees all around. I thought there might be a few, but they were everywhere along the river. I fell in love with them, just like I did the giant Sequoias in California. It was like being transported to another place, a quiet place…I snapped pictures right from the area around the cabin…

…ending with this gorgeous picture right beside us, taken as a film began to cover the water at the end of the afternoon, right before sunset…

An early morning boat ride, taking the flat bottom boat with the trolling motor, which let me take pictures more easily if I didn’t have to paddle, was tranquil and lovely.

…enjoying the cane and cypress, cool and lush in the morning…

…smelling the honeysuckle that covered the trees from the middle of the river…

Up river, we could have taken a wilder float trip with white water fun, but this was a nice morning start with reflections in the water to calm the soul…

At the end, looping around the islands that were in front of our cabin, we looked both ways on the river…

and turned at the tattered flag that waved us back to our landing.

You can tell by the photos that the weather was changing from the bright clear skies of the day before. Ugly storms were predicted, so we went into Broken Bow and then did some other exploring…another blog…before coming back in time to watch the horror of the tornado that hit Moore, OK that day. The weather changed and rain came in, rustling the cane and cypress around us. The trip was cut a little short as we took another route home the next day to drive through the least of the storms we could. It was all beautiful and peaceful, a lovely adventure into southeastern Oklahoma to places I had only heard about and wanted to visit. I can’t do the beauty of the area justice…there’s just so much.

It’s time we should all make and take…time to explore around us. There is so much history, so much natural wonder. It perks your brain to learn new things, warms your heart and restores your soul, brings you peace within. And, it’s great fun! I recommend you find adventure…sooner than later…

Tags bamboo, cabins, Cypress trees, honeysuckle, Mountain Fork River, Oklahoma, rivers, travel, vacation

Categories History, Places, Reflections, Travel

Wanderlust

May 3, 2013 //

It’s that time of year when I’m stricken with Wanderlust. “Wanderlust is a strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world” – Wikipedia. The word says it all. I’m ready to go…anywhere, anytime. Wanderlust has many symptoms – desire to see new things or revisit favorite places – desire to see people you miss – desire to explore and, literally, wander – desire to learn – desire to cleanse your soul of the everyday routine and worries of life.

I’ve got a bad case of it, but I’m not sure which way I want to go this year…I’ve been all over the place but there are so many places I haven’t seen, so many places I want to see again. Each time I travel there is something new. The places I saw as a child or earlier in my life have new meanings, look different now. I both know more and learn more. Lately, I’ve been heading west…there’s so much there…but I’ve been east, north, south too…and to other continents…such a rich planet is our earth.

It’s all good. As long as I have my camera to catch memories, help me remember, I’m ready. Here are a few of the places I’ve been in the United States – I’d go back to any of them…or elsewhere around the world…

Florida sunrise

Grand Canyon of Yellowstone

Sunrise over the Tetons

Elephant seals on California coast

Seattle

Grand Canyon

Zion National Park

Monument Valley

Santa Fe

San Francisco

Denali Highway, Alaska

Glacier National Park

I love cities, I love mountains, I love the ocean. Oceans and mountains, running water, green forests…all necessary to restore my soul.

Maps are out, research has begun…where to go? Wanderlust…I’ve got a bad case of it!

Tags Alaska, California coast, Florida, Monument Valley, San Francisco, Santa Fe, Seattle, Tetons, travel, Yellowstone, Zion National Park

Categories Entertainment, History, Memories, Places, Reflections, Travel

Crystal Bridges in the Spring

April 26, 2013 //

This was my second trip to Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, Arkansas. The first was in the fall and I promised myself to come back in the spring. If you are in the area ever, go there for a spectacular collection of American art and for the beautiful 3.5 miles of trails. I don’t need to say much about it…I’ll share some pictures.

First, there’s the art. I fell in love with this glass sculpture as I walked by…

There are so many treasures there. I love this little painting, “Haystacks,” by Martin Johnson Heade…

And this Mary Cassett…

And “Sun at the Wall” by Hans Hoffman…

So much American history through art…

I wanted to be at Crystal Bridges when the dogwoods and redbuds were still blooming. I was afraid I was too late, but it was a perfect day. It was sunny and then cloudy, but a beautiful day.

There were flowers blooming…

My time on the trails was shorter than I wanted, but you can see how refreshing it is to be even a few steps into this calming, ethereal, blessing of nature…