Gene Reece: Army Veteran and Honor Guard (and wife Vicki too!)

 

 

Gene Reece

  Imagine you are standing in an open campsite, far from the familiar roads, stores, churches, and conveniences of home and you witness a helicopter descending and dangling beneath it an ice cream truck!

    Gene Reece, Vietnam service Army veteran does not have to imagine. He remembers quite clearly and with a smile on his face as he told me of the incident during the late 1960s when he was serving in Vietnam.

patches

photos from the camp

Gene, proud volunteer for the Army, August 21, 1966-August 22, 1969, has other service stories, some describing actual combat, but that story about the ice cream truck is far too compelling to allow to be left un-shared. It is one of those images worthy of a scene in a movie. Yes, imagine a movie about the Vietnam War, the opening scene as movie title and production credits role and an Army helicopter lands an ice cream truck on a dry patch of ground, stirring up dust.

    Gene joined the Army to work in electronics. He wanted to serve in the signal corps. But, as happens in the chaos of war, his squad wound up in battle action in the Tet Offensive., with him as sergeant.

Gene was proud to serve and continues to be proud of that service.

I think we all should be proud of Gene for his willingness to be placed in such danger on behalf of America!

Gene continues to be faithful in service as he participates in funeral Honor Guard. He explains that each deceased service member, upon request of the family, gets a 21 gun salute.

Honor Guard

As I sometime officiate the funerals of service folk, I have seen the Honor Guard present, with great dignity, an American flag to the family.

Gene continues to bring honor, not only to himself and deceased service members, but also to the flag he defended during the 1960s!

   But you know, Gene looks good here because Vicki, his wife, does an excellent job of “putting him together!”

Gene and Vicki

   Vicki is very supportive of Gene and his activities.

Vicki serves as a smile-sporting greeter at the Willow Creek United Methodist Church in Mishawaka Indiana. She assists as a Communion steward and as prayer-chain coordinator.

Vicki hopes to greet you!

People like Gene and Vicki make things happen, hold things together, and pull things forward!

Let’s give a round of applause for Gene and Vicki!!!

In closing I would like to report that Gene said he and his whole camp had much fun eating ice cream upon the arrival of the truck in Vietnam during the 1960s!

In Honor of Martin K Speckter, Inventer of the Interrobang

 

Interrobang invented by Martin Speckter

Thanks to retired English Teacher, Ella Reff and software engineer, LaRita Robinson I am aware of the interrobang!

The interrobang is defined by Merriam-Webster:” Definition

: a punctuation mark  designed for use especially at the end of an exclamatory rhetorical question.”

 It was invented in 1962 by Martin K Speckter who passed away on February 14, 1988.

When asked if he was serious about his invention of punctuation, he would reply

 “ Somewhat more seriously than Elizabeth Taylor and slightly less so than Khrushchev.”

   The discovery of his intriguing response was the funnest part of my research about him. I shall contemplate using that sentence as a response when I am asked about my earnestness of statements!

   I wonder if he really intended his interrobang rather than a period following the name of the Soviet Premier?!

Having not the interrobang punctuation key on my keypad, I was confined to the conventional style to indicate punctuation-intent.

  I drew much information for this post from: http://alphabettenthletter.blogspot.com/2012/01/creator-martin-k-speckter.html

The Incidental Inspiration of Barnaby Rudge

 

In February 1971, English class, 9^th grade, Concord, I checked out of the school library “Barnaby Rudge” by Charles Dickens as the book upon which I would write a report. I guess the teacher figured that if it were in the school library, it would be an acceptable read.

    Surely the subject material was appropriate. But the difficulty of read would challenge college level British literature majors, I presumed.

Yet, I continued.

You see, having read the first paragraph, and referring to a dictionary many times to discover meanings of some words such as “wont” and “yeoman”, it occurred to me that the whole of the paragraph was one sentence! And so, purely for fun, I began contemplating the structure of that sentence to see how it held together, developed an idea, and left an image in mind.

This sentence made me a Dickens fan. But more importantly, it made me appreciate and enjoy the English language, grammar, and punctuation.

I offer that first paragraph below in italics…

 

In the year 1775, there stood upon the borders of Epping Forest, at a distance of about twelve miles from London—measuring from the Standard in Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or near to which the Standard used to be in days of yore—a house of public entertainment called the Maypole; which fact was demonstrated to all such travellers as could neither read nor write (and at that time a vast number both of travellers and stay-at-homes were in this condition) by the emblem reared on the roadside over against the house, which, if not of those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, thirty feet in height, and straight as any arrow that ever English yeoman drew."

In my study of that sentence I counted : eight commas, 2 dashes,1 semi colon, one pair of parentheses. And , concluding, one period.

Thus began my career as an English sentence hobbyist.

Of course I have ventured into poetry, short stories, essays, but my most fun has been derived from taking an event, image, or thought and seeing how much narrative detail and device of punctuation I can apply to one sentence in description of that chosen object.

I have been accused of composing run-on sentences. To which I reply, “Thank you”.

My compositions have been met with raised eye brow, thereby affirming my esteem and intent.

I have been erroneously “corrected” wherefore I, in self-defense, offered the legitimacy of my sentence.

I have been legitimately corrected, and, subsequently, and sincerely offered gratitude to my corrector.

    Of course, I do not claim to have the command of language as did Dickens. I merely enjoy composing such silliness as follows…

“Why acquiesce to one perfectly adequate word when a second superfluous synonym can decorate the sentence with a charming grandiosity, however otherwise redundant it may be?"

That sentence describes quite accurately my philosophy of the matter of the conveyance of thought by word and punctuation.

    Well, for class in 1971, I did not finish the book which ran on for more than six hundred pages. And I paid little attention to the plot or its resolution. So I based my report on the structures of chosen sentences and paragraphs.

Here, fifty years later, I have checked out the book once again, this time from the Elkhart Public Library. I think I will read it for plot, finally.

Baby Boomers Having Difficulty Letting Go of the Cultural Car Keys

 

Fair use photo from Wikipedia

    Being a baby boomer myself, I always felt that radio music, television shows, fashion, and most other cultural aspects were designed to appeal to my generation.

   During the 1960s we had television shows such as Bewitched, Gilligan’s Island, I Dream of Jeannie, and my favorite…Johnny Quest. CKLW in Windsor/Detroit and WLS in Chicago played Beatles. Our age demographic controlled American culture!

   On February 1 1971 the Osmonds had the number 1 song at WLS.

“One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl
Oh, give it one more try
Before you give up on love

One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl”

 

The 1960s and early 1970s were a time of AM superstations like WLS which played a variety of hit sounds. Along with Iron Butterfly heavy metal and Tom Jones ballads groups like the Osmonds, the Jacksons, and even the contrived Archies held proper place on the charts and airwaves.

We listened on our battery operated transistor radios carried along much like smart phones today. We knew that our classmates would be listening to the same station, hearing the same songs played and we felt a sense of immediate community though we were not in presence or sight of each other. As we heard the songs we mentally recorded questions and comments we would share with our friends upon later meeting up with them.

   Likewise for television, since there were only three major networks to watch there was a very good chance that our classmates had seen the same shows over the weekend and therefore would have something to talk about at lunch-time at school on Monday.

   But, as AM superstations gave way to more localized FM stations that specialized in a particular genre, as cable television gave more options to viewing preferences, we baby boomers began losing our synchronized and outsized impact on culture.

    As younger generations exert influence on culture with their different musical and viewing tastes, we baby boomers feel much like our grandparents must have felt “That’s not music, that’s just noise!”, “They wouldn’t let smut like that be on television in my day!”

   Alas, it appears that American culture is for each generation to decide for itself. We baby boomers can no more impose upon younger generations what is and is not proper cultural norm any more than our parents tried to impose upon us.

I expect that as it happened for our predecessors, we boomers will increasingly become frustrated and uncomfortable with the prevailing tastes of the younger generations. We will feel detached. And what I think will irritate us the most is that we will be considered irrelevant.

Butcha know what! Periodically I run upon some young wait-staff person at a restaurant that names a 1960s singer or group as their favorite musical interest. Maybe we baby boomers really did set in cultural stone some undeniable and absolute classics that transcend subsequent generational whim. Yes…that’s what I’m going with!

Promoting my Al Capone story "The Unexpected Roommate"

 

Guilty verdict of Al Capone from National Archives

As Monday, January 25 is the anniversary of the death (1947) of Al Capone, I thought it might be fun for you to read my humor-lined fictional story about how a personal detective happened upon an old hotel on a stormy night and, as a result of spending the night there, was greeted, and ultimately financially enriched by the ghost of Al Capone.

I provide an excerpt…

 

   The male figure stopped, took a moment to assess the situation, and spoke calmly. “It’s been a while since there was a guest in this room. Besides me, I mean. What’s your name?”

   Charles was hoping to be the interviewer, asking the questions, but since the figure had preempted him, there was value in answering as well. “Charles. Charles Roy.” He felt obliged to deliver the fuller name.

The figure continued “Well, I’m Alfonse. Alfonse Capone.” The figure imitated Charles’ pattern of identification with a mischievous smile.

Scribbling almost legible notes in his journal, Charles pressed “Al Capone…of Chicago? Do you live here?”

“Live isn’t really the right word for it, Charles. But it does seem that I am a guest in perpetuity. Hey, usually the guest is outta here by now, screaming and leaving their things behind. You dead too?”

 

Celebrate, acknowledge, observe or otherwise mark January 25 as a significant moment in history by reading “ The Unexpected Roommate”

Which is one of a few stories in the digital book entitled

 “Preposterous Scenarios: Gathered Stories, Poems, and Memoirs”

available at Amazon.com as a digital download for $2.99.

What's Your Real Sabbath?

 

Yes, I attempt to observe a Sabbath. Usually my Sabbath is on Thursday. But, in full disclosure, or confession, Thursday is my technically observed, yet insincere Sabbath merely to be compliant with and in appeasement to peers and others who think they know what’s best for others.

    My real, restful, rejuvinative Sabbath is my practice of creative writing. I think most artists and writers will agree that one cannot schedule creativity to unveil itself on some predetermined day of the week.

Creativity emerges as the convergence of many informative and inspiring impulses that resist being told when and how to disclose their fruits.

    My real Sabbath, my creative writing, can happen anytime. And when it does, I become fully entertained by the task of word choice, sentence structure, and idea development until I reach the point of intellectual saturation with the project.

In my Sabbath I do not aspire toward professional stature. I wish to amuse, if only myself, by constructing sentences which, while grammatically correct, result in a raised eye-brow or whispered chuckle.

I offer the following example...

“It’s” is the proper contraction for “it is”. It’s often confused with “its” which is the possessive form of it. You will probably use “it’s” more often than “its”, but it’s up to you. Its improper usage in print will likely be more obvious than in speech. It’s fun, give a few sentences.

In my Sabbath I compose memoirs that may connect with someone else and thereby ease their day, inspire or comfort them. I compose narratives which prompt the memories of others and nudge them toward their own creativity.

In My Sabbath I write stories and descriptions that, if not entertaining to others, will distract them from some temporary boredom.

   Having completed my creative project, I then feel Sabbath- restored. Only then, seldom on Thursdays, “is it well with my soul”.

Incidentally, this particular narrative was composed on a Thursday.

Beatles For Sale...A Personal Memoir

 

I no longer have my original 1964 UK vinyl

I am sure any Beatles fan will agree that when asked which album is their favorite a certain bewildering panic sets in as if we must choose between which child to save. As soon as one album is determined the others will haunt the mind with doubt and second guessing.

   Each of the albums contain moments of excellence, surprise, unique achievement of technical expertise, mystique and elements that connect the album to some moment in our lives.

Highly as I regard all of the albums, my choice as favorite is Beatles For Sale.

Each time I listen to the album I am reconnected with my nine-year old self and remember the innocence of the moment and my optimism for the future.

I will describe my impressions of the album later.

But for the moment allow me to recall the event of my having come into possession of it in its original release when I was nine years old.

Being an enthusiast since seeing them on the Ed Sullivan show, I was compelled to own each album as released in the UK.

    My step-father, George Eckenrode, was kind and generous enough to accommodate my childish taste in what he considered an ephemeral phenomenon empty of any authentic musical value. His idea of music worthy of an intelligent person was Frank Sinatra or perhaps Andy Williams. Oh, I should not forget Petula Clark in whom we both agreed was great talent.

George was always trying to show kindness. Knowing that I preferred the UK version of the album over the American version “Beatles 65” he drove me and my mom from Detroit into Windsor Ontario one Saturday in December 1964 so as to purchase the record. Canada always released the UK versions before the American version was available in the United States.

George knew of an independent record store in Windsor.

I felt pretty important I tell you that we visited a different country to make this purchase. I would have the UK version before any of my friends would have even the US version.

In the store and on the sidewalk toward the car I held the album as if I had discovered the map of the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant. The album carried an almost sacred effect.

We then went to a restaurant in Windsor to enjoy a celebratory dinner.

As we waited for our dinners to be delivered I could no longer wait to open the album to hold in my hand. I pulled the vinyl from its paper sleeve. I carefully held it between the palms of my hands allowing the light from the suspended incandescent globes to reflect off of the shiny blackness. I read the labels, front and back. Each title, word, letter, font imprinted upon my mind an anticipation of the sounds that they announced.

    This was quite a Christmas gift! I considered not only possession of the album, but also the visit to Windsor, the atmosphere of the record store, and also the dinner as perhaps the best Christmas gift I had ever received.

I was familiar with “Eight Days A Week” as that was the song played on CKLW radio station. But the other titles grabbed my imagination. What would they sound like…what would be the subject? I could hardly wait to place the album on my turntable and gently place the diamond needle on the fresh stereophonic vinyl.

And then, when I did, auditory excellence painted every surface and substance of the room, including my eagerly embracing intellect.

And so, I shall, from imprinted memory, try to describe my impressions which linger and reverberate over the past fifty-six years.

The most dominant impression was the intensely precise quality of the vocals. The melodies and harmonies, given much echo and fullness, seemed to contain more fullness of presence than previous recordings. Acoustic guitar chords mixed with electric sound and soft timpani punctuation introduced me to a deeper appreciation of studio technique and promise of what yet may be to come in the future.

   As the vinyl revolved on the turntable the music seemed to levitate from the surface of the album and circle around the room in much more than mere stereophonic effect. But perhaps I use psychedelic description before it’s due for the group.

Whatever description, Beatles For Sale continues to be my favorite.

The vocals, the echo affect, the precision of recording gave me the impression of a group very mature in their talents and strength of composition with more impact than the “bubblegum” level talent and product of other groups.

   The lyrics addressed some fresh topics and feelings. They also seemed well written and welcoming of a new audience.

Perhaps that was the greatest talent of the group, each succeeding album provided invitation and relevance to a wider audience to entertain, intrigue, and convert.

The Beatles, much more than an ephemeral phenomenon of 1964, continue to inspire succeeding generations of fans and those who are curious as to their cultural longevity.

Amen, Creational Authority, and Faithful Service

 

I periodically assert to my congregations that “amen” is much more than just a concluding punctuation point. The word “amen” is understood, roughly, as “so be it”, or “may it be”, or “truly”.

   I propose this; Rather than use amen as a “quit claim deed” regarding the issues, concerns, and petitions we have uttered to God, consider it the creation of a joint venture between God and ourselves in which we both take action on those petitions.

    Allow the sentiment of amen to be an invitation to God to attend to these uttered issues in His capacity and wisdom while we also, in partnership with God, do what we can regarding concerns spoken.

    God has created us in his image; he has blessed us with spiritual gifts, enabled us with cognitive capabilities, and trusted us with the faithful stewardship of all of His creation. That is a generous sharing of creational authority by   God.

    Our response to this sharing of creational authority should be faithful, diligent, enthusiastic, and active.

    I encourage you to look for opportunities where you can respond to improve someone’s condition, for situations of conflict where you can contribute peace and reconciliation, to display active hope in the midst of trials and sufferings rather than passive surrender to cynicism and futility.

   Rather than abdicate our role in creational authority, let us embrace it and be found good and faithful servants.

Hey, Let's Not Forget About Epiphany!

 

    Concurrent with Black Friday and the many days until December 25 each year is accompanied with the incessant play of Christmas music from radio stations, decoration of temporary and  domestic trees, and wrapping of gifts.

   And then Christmas Day arrives and folk quickly turn on their celebratory  heels to prepare for New Years Day, Super Bowl, Valentines Day and other celebrations punctuating a calendar of otherwise common or ordinary days.

   Epiphany, January 6^th, the 13^th day after Christmas, is quite a meaningful day of celebration to me personally. I have always been intrigued by this report n the Gospel of Matthew regarding Magi from the East. Though there are extra-Biblical accounts of from where and precisely who those men were, the Matthew report remains vague as to such details.

    The scenario that tickles my intellectual fancy is that these star-gazers probably were from the land that once impolitely hosted the Scribes, Priests, and academic class of the Hebrew people decades or centuries earlier.

    I further venture that the predecessors of those star-gazers in Matthew had conversed over coffee or tea with the Hebrew captives about theology, God, and their Scripture and recorded their interviews for use by subsequent generations of Magi.

    Though the Matthew report remains vague regarding the precise identities or nation of origin, it brings forth some remarkable ideas.

    One such idea is that God used the religion and practice of the Magi to lead them to Christ. God did not exclude them from this glory on the basis that they were of a different religion. God prepared them and directed them by use of what star-grazers would naturally look toward for guidance.

    This point can encourage us regarding evangelism, or sharing of faith with those who are of other faiths or of no faith. Be in discussion with folk, share your faith story. Though they may not immediately respond, those who are intentionally seeking will find guidance.

    Another idea regards the gifts presented. Bible scholars and theologians, and I have read many, speculate much as to the meaning of those specified gifts. I like the idea that those gifts were of sufficient economic value as to make provision for Mary and Joseph, poor as they were, to escape to Egypt. Again, though the report does not state where in Egypt they went, I tend to think it was the City of Alexandria. The city was an economic and intellectually progressive city. Perhaps this is where Jesus was educated, again, financed by those gifts of the Magi, and so learned much to take back to his hometown.

    Perhaps the most important idea regarding the Matthew report with its lack of details about the persons or identities of the Magi is the fact that outsiders, sometimes with much enabling gift to offer, are invited to worship out of sincerity as God has prompted them. 

    As this Epiphany approaches anticipate that God has been at work prompting folk to seek Jesus. They may be of different cultures, languages, religions, nations, or colors.  Let us take care not to ignore or dismiss them. Let us, like Joseph and Mary, receive them and feel blessed by them. They and the gifts they bring can enable our ministries, personal and congregational.

In conclusion…Happy Epiphany!

It's Advent: Be on the Lookout for Angels

 

 

picture by Shana Dines of Elkhart 2014
You can find out more about Shana at:
https://ealonline.org/featured-artist-shana-dines/

Luke 2: 15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

Some things to consider…

1.     Angels told shepherds about the birth before priests, before kings, before  anyone else.

2.     The shepherds, in humility and joy, recognized the angels as messengers of the Lord.

3.     Upon receiving this divine revelation they were eager to respond and go on the adventure.

As we continue through Advent and approach Christmas, as we prepare our hearts, not only for the family get-togethers and gifts, but also for some sacred impact upon our souls, let’s be like shepherds.

    Let’s accept that wherever we are angels visit us. During Covid 19 we may feel much like the shepherds…some kind of outcasts in fields of loneliness. Know that you are valued highly.

  Like the shepherds let us be sensitive to the angels speaking to us. We do this by prayer and taking time to “Be still and know God”.

Let us eagerly respond in our souls to take a new and fresh spiritual adventure.

I know we have experienced many years of Christmas. Sometimes in all the hustle and bustle we become “bah, humbug” about it.

But as we listen to Christmas music, gaze upon ornaments, remember our loved ones who have gone on, let’s know that we are not left behind…not really. We are visited by angels of divine proclamation, grace, and encouragement.

Let us then anticipate something wonderful!

Eric Settles, Proud Pilot

 

 

first solo flight 12/17/2019

 

I am particularly proud to announce that as of Thursday, December 3. 2020, my son, Eric Settles, gained his pilot’s license at Goshen Municipal Airport- GSH. His FAA Examiner wrote on his report “nice touch…beautiful flying.”

   Eric was surely pleased. This has been a goal of his since his first airplane flight when he was 8 or 9 years old.

   Since his childhood he has been passionately interested in flight, airplanes, and the airline industry. I believe he told me that while in college one of his business class reports was of an airline industry incident.

    On December 17, 2019 he experienced his first solo flight.

    You know how it is when you set goals for yourself and life has a way of trying to sabotage your steps toward those goals. We have work to attend to, college, family concerns that interrupt our plans.

          Congratulations to my son, Eric, for sticking with it and making a dream come true.

   As a gesture of celebration, my wife, Sherry Borglum, found this 1974 vintage belt buckle to present as a gift in celebration.

vintage belt buckle

   Now we wonder what may be the next step…?

 

My favorite part of the Christmas story is found in Matthew 2: 1-12.

We are told that wise men, or kings, or star-gazers, came from the East to worship the new born King.

   We celebrate the arrival of these wise men on January 6, 2020. We call it Epiphany.

   Now personally, I think these “wise men” were indeed astrologers of their day who came from the land where the Israelites had been carried off to generations ago. I imagine the astrologers (priests) having coffee with the scribes and priests of the Israelites and discussing theology and other such things.

Perhaps this is how the wise men knew to be anticipating a king or Messiah.

But wherever from they came, the story mentions a plural “wise men”. It does not say three. There could have been two, there could have been many more.

It does say they brought gifts and three are named. It is likely they brought other gifts as well.

   But the thing I want to affirm here is that perhaps your church, like many, over time has lost one of the wise men set. Maybe you have only two left.

You are still faithful to the story because the story merely says “wise men”…not a specific “three”.

So relax, be not embarrassed. If anyone says anything, just tell them Mike claims only two wise men!

And, by the way…it is perfectly fine to keep your Christmas decorations up until Epiphany which is the conclusion of the twelve days of Christmas!

Caring for Neighbor as Advent/Christmas Worship

So here we are about to enter the Advent/ Christmas season doing church virtually, online, streaming rather than in person. Yes, I understand that this disruption of church tradition is disappointing. But it causes me to question…”What are the fundamental aspects of being a Christian…a Jesus follower.” As I read the gospel in which I see the modeling of Christ for how we are to conduct ourselves in the world, I read no call to have elaborate services celebrating his birth, or arrival of Magi from the East. There is no provision for lighting a series of candles over a four week period. Now for sure, I love the Church Calendar. Yes, I do find it helpful toward bringing order to the church and how we can find creative ways to worship. But the church calendar comes to us from tradition rather than anything Jesus taught. If we replace the teachings and modeling of Jesus as found in the Gospels with tradition-based “feel-good” moments of Christmas and even Easter, we reach toward a sort of idolatry that is actually self-serving rather than neighbor-serving. Jesus taught compassion and healing, not how to decorate a tree. Jesus taught a sincerity of, rather than a showmanship of, prayer and charity. Jesus taught surrender of one’s will for God and neighbor, not how to demand familiar customs as a way of making a political statement. These next few weeks, let’s not focus on the disruption of our familiar patterns of worship. Let’s realize the truth…that being a Christian, calling Jesus Lord and meaning it invites us to love our neighbors, pray for our enemies, heal the lame, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked. This year we have the opportunity to preserve the health of our neighbors by merely limiting our physical contact with them. Allow me to insinuate Luke 16: 10 “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much."  I believe our humble actions of neighbor-care will satisfy God as worship far more than well-planned and orchestrated Advent and Christmas Eve extravaganzas.

 

Lake James

Usually when Sherry and I stay at Pokagon State Park we request one of the Old Historic rooms to be in. Unfortunately, since we are in November, the air conditioning had been turned off for the season and the heat turned on. Our room, along with everyone else, was uncomfortable. Windows in the Old Historic Section were open, an unusual sight for November.

   Having no more portable fans to accommodate us, they moved us to one of the cabin 68 with individual air conditioning at no extra charge. My goodness, did we luck out!

cabin 68

    To arrive at cabin 68, we drove across a one-car bridge that crossed over the toboggan run tracks.

the 1-car bridge across tracks

Toboggan Tracks

   But, we had, not only air conditioning, but also a very personal and close view of Lake James.

The fox seemed almost domesticated as he paused long enough for me to take a photo.

Well-posed fox

   Sherry and I have been visiting Pokagon for 16 years now. This time we had some quite new experiences!

Autumn Excursion at Ox Bow Park Elkhart County Indiana

 

View from Ox Bow View tower

Usually I prefer my autumn days soaked in overcast and slight drizzle as I walk along paths accompanied by my umbrella to cover me and coffee to comfort.

   But today, October 29, 2020, sunny and bright, was quite accommodating as I took a stroll through Ox Bow Park in Elkhart County Indiana.

   As I had no need of an umbrella, I carried my camera through wooded paths and open fields snapping photos at will.

walk way

The falling golden leaves, twirling as if in choreographed dance, seemed to celebrate my presence while adorning my sweater momentarily before continuing their journey to the ground where they found rejoined brethren.

the conquered  tower

    One accomplishment of the day is my ascension to the top of the View tower at the park. When I was a teenager and young adult I had no fear of heights. But age causes uncooperative characteristics to sneak upon one. It is not really a very tall tower. Not any the less, as I ascended the stairs I felt that discomfort happen within my brain. I pressed on. Finally stepping upon the top level I felt a sense of personal achievement. I lingered in that self-satisfaction for a bit, taking photos to prove I was there.

shopping list

    Returning to the ground and walking away I saw a piece of paper hugging the damp grass. I initially dismissed it as unworthy of my attention at first. And then, my sense of incidental discovery burst through the apathy and prompted me to return to the paper and see what treasure may lie there.

It appears to be a shopping list: smoked ched./curried chic. Salad/crostin dessert?/pretzel buns/ cous cous?/cake mix/coffee/take forks plates napkins/go to Asian and German stores?/applewood bacon/mozz./pineapple/pretzel bun?

I love such discoveries. They cause me to imagine stories. I imagine a story about what party or family get-together this list was to accommodate.

The penmanship was pleasant and easy to read. This is obviously a well-organized person. I’m sure their event was a delightfully edible success.

Though born in Lafollette Tennessee and having spent some childhood in Detroit Michigan, I have lived in Elkhart County since 1969. It has become not only my historical home, but also my emotional and personal identity home as well. Today, in Ox Bow park, was one of the very many reasons why that is the case.

quiet and peaceful

Mick Jagger, Mary van Wijk, and "The St. Petersburg Syndrome"

 

 

    As a means of promoting my story “The St. Petersburg Syndrome” and the book in which it is gathered, I asked Mary van Wijk, a known Rolling Stones enthusiast, to read it and compose a review.

   Sometimes a review of a story is more entertaining than the story itself as is the case in this incidence.

   I offer Mary’s review here more as a celebration of her personal experience than as a promotion of my book “Preposterous Scenarios: Gathered Stories, Poems, and Memoirs” available as a digital download at Amazon.com for $2.99.

 

REVIEW:

Settles’ The St Petersburg Syndrome is reminiscent of an encounter, purely by chance, that I had in 1989 in an intimate Italian restaurant in London.  My encounter with Mick Jagger, Jerry Hall and Eric Idle, sitting at the table beside, and very near us, was unanticipated and extraordinary, just like this fresh and intriguing story. The St Petersburg Syndrome is sure to give you satisfaction!

Mary van Wijk, United Methodist Ordained Elder and Rolling Stones Aficionado

 

Oh, to have been just feet away from that table! I sincerely hope Mary eavesdropped sufficiently to accommodate Mick’s insatiable ego.

I look forward to being in person with Mary so as to experience vicarious proximity to rock and roll greatness!

Thank you Mary for these exciting words!

 

But before I leave…

   The story which prompted this review “The St. Petersburg Syndrome” is found in the book “Preposterous Scenarios: Gathered Stories, Poems, and Memoirs” by Mike Settles. Available as a digital download at amazon.com for $2.99.

Peter Frampton Meets President Gerald Ford

President Ford with Peter Frampton National Archives

    Some people pass the time or develop hobbies such as reading novels, golfing, or assembling evasive picture puzzles. I rummage through historical documents looking for the occasional “huh”, “wait a minute” or “wow” discovery.

   Such was the case a few days ago as I was perusing the daily diary of President Gerald Ford which is available online from the Gerald Ford Presidential Library.

   At the bottom, page seven, of the diary for September 8, 1976, I see the name “Peter Frampton” as someone with whom the President met. “Huh” was my whispered response. And so I was off on an engagement of historic research. Indeed it was the Peter Frampton of rock and roll guitar fame!

    The National Archives was wise enough to maintain the photograph.

It was 44 years ago this coming September 8^th that rock and roll royalty once again assumed its worthy place as it stood within the Oval Office beside Presidential stature!

And that’s my trivial report.

 

Ps…Peter reached the number 6 spot on the WLS survey for September 18, 1976 with “Baby, I Love Your Way”.

http://www.oldiesloon.com/il/wls760918.htm

 

Presidential diary entry found at:

https://www.fordlibrarymuseum.gov/library/document/0036/pdd760908.pdf

 

Photo from national archives:

https://nara.getarchive.net/media/president-gerald-r-ford-and-his-son-steve-ford-meeting-with-musician-peter-47e887