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Off the Hook - Archive 2007
by Melanie Behrens

12/28/07
All good things wished for
We say Happy New Year and we mean a wish of health and happiness! That greeting will be heard many times for the next few days. But the day
celebrated as New Year's Day in modern America was not always January 1. In fact, celebration of the new year is the oldest of all holidays and
amazingly was first observed in ancient Babylon about 4000 years ago. In the years around 2000 BC, the Babylonian New  Year began with the first
New Moon after the Vernal Equinox (first day of spring). So, it was a warm and a hopeful time of the year with spring blossoms beginning.
I think the first day of spring is a logical time to start a new  year. After all, it is the season of rebirth, of planting new crops. January
1, on the other hand, has no astronomical nor agricultural significance. It is purely arbitrary.
The Babylonian new year celebration lasted for 11 days. I'm not sure we could last that long now! Each day had its own particular mode of
celebration, but it is safe to say that modern New Year's Eve festivities pale in comparison.
The Romans, on the other hand, continued to observe the new year in late March, but their calendar was continually tampered with by various
emperors so that the calendar soon became out of synchronization with the sun.
In order to set the calendar right, the Roman senate, in 153 BC, declared January 1 to be the beginning of the new year. The tampering
continued until the reign of Julius Caesar who, in 46 BC, established what has come to be known as the Julian Calendar. It again established
January 1 as the new year. But in order to synchronize the calendar with the sun, Caesar had to let the previous year drag on for 445 days.
Although in the first centuries AD the Romans continued celebrating the new year, the early Catholic Church condemned the festivities as
paganism. But as Christianity became more widespread, the church began having its own religious observances concurrently with many of the pagan celebrations.
During the Middle Ages, the church remained opposed to celebrating New Years. January 1 has been celebrated as a holiday by western nations for only about the past 400 years.
Other traditions of the season include, of course, the making of New Year's resolutions that we seem to have trouble keeping. That tradition
also dates back to the early Babylonians. Popular modern resolutions might include the promise to lose weight or quit smoking. The early
Babylonians' most popular resolution was to return borrowed farm equipment. Could that be a popular resolution around here?
The Tournament of Roses Parade, always held on January 1, dates back to 1886. In that year, members of the Valley Hunt Club decorated their
carriages with flowers. It celebrated the ripening of the orange crop in California.
The tradition of using a baby to signify the new year was begun in Greece around 600 BC. It was their tradition at that time to celebrate
their god of wine, Dionysus, by parading a baby in a basket, representing the annual rebirth of that god as the spirit of fertility.
Early Egyptians also used a baby as a symbol of rebirth.
The use of an image of a baby with a New Year's banner as a symbolic representation of the new year was brought to early America by the
Germans. They had used the effigy since the fourteenth century.
Traditionally, it was thought that one could affect the luck they would have throughout the coming year by what they did or ate on the first day
of the year. For that reason, it has become common for folks to celebrate the first few minutes of a brand new year in the company of
family and friends.
Also, it was once believed that the first visitor on New Year's Day would bring either good luck or bad luck the rest of the year. It was
particularly lucky if that visitor happened to be a tall dark-haired man. Now we would probably invite, not leave to chance, such a person
just to insure our good luck!
Traditional foods are also thought to bring luck. Many cultures believe that anything in the shape of a ring is good luck because it symbolizes
"coming full circle," completing a year's cycle. For that reason, the Dutch believe that eating donuts on New Year's Day will bring good fortune.
Many parts of the U.S. celebrate the new year by consuming black-eyed peas. These legumes are typically accompanied by either hog jowls or
ham. I am not sure there is too much of that around here.
Black-eyed peas and other legumes have been considered good luck in many cultures. The hog, and thus its meat, is considered lucky because it
symbolizes prosperity. Cabbage is another "good luck" vegetable that is consumed on New Year's Day by many. Cabbage leaves are also considered a sign of prosperity, being representative of paper currency. We of course, in this part of the country use sauerkraut as our form of
cabbage cooked often with a pork roast or ribs.
At the stroke of midnight we always sing "Auld Lang Syne" which is a Scottish tune and means old long ago or the good old days.
Obviously traditions are important in every part of our lives and New Year's Eve and Day are certainly ones filled with ancient traditions.
Whatever your tradition for celebrating the first day of the new year, I wish you health, happiness, safety and peace!


12/21/07
Christmas far away
 We are once again approaching another Christmas holiday with our men and women in the Middle East fighting a war. Almost four years ago when the war began, I did several stories about local people who were serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Since then those stories have fallen off, not because we are not interested, but it is no longer a new story. It has been a long time since someone has called to tell me their friend or
relative is there and what their life is like.
 We hear about the war in Iraq daily on the news and it is sad those soldiers are so far away from home at this time, but they should know
that we appreciate their efforts to keep our country safe. The following poem was written by Michael Marks and helps express our appreciation for
our armed forces and their efforts on our behalf:
A Soldier's Christmas
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'It's really all right,'

'I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.
It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas Gram always remembers.'

'My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.'

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue ... an American Flag.
'I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.'

'I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.'

'Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'

'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.'

'For when we come home, now give our sincere wish for the safety of all
either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

 We pray for the safety and happiness of all those who serve our country
today. For all of you at home, I also extend my wish for every good
thing at this wonderful celebration of life - which is Christmas!


12/14/07
Our Galapagos connection
If you are adventuresome, inquisitive, environmentally friendly, enjoy laid back living and love the sea and all its creatures, you have a lot
in common with Scott Henderson (valedictorian of MHS class of '81).
 Scott admits that during his high school years his three major concerns were trying for the best grades, having the prettiest girlfriend and
being the best in sports. He obviously achieved his first goal. I'm not sure about the second two.
 While still in high school, he had the opportunity to travel to the Bahamas with teacher Wayne Honaker and other science students. Before
the trip, all had to be certified in SCUBA diving and then they were off on an adventure. Upon arriving in the Bahamas, the students were able to
dive in a safe lagoon with barracudas, large parrot fish and colorful reef fish.
 That experience and the desire to learn more about the sea and its creatures has shaped Scott's life. He went on to Washington and Lee
University graduating in 1987. At some point, he took a year off and went to the Galapagos Islands and became a tour guide and master diver.
It's also a good thing he taught himself to speak Spanish because almost no one speaks English in South America or on these islands which are
part of Ecuador.
 Scott later received his master's degree in the field of environmental change from Oxford University in the United Kingdom and is working on
his Ph.D. from that university.
 Scott's mother, Claire, still lives in Marysville, but from 1989-91 she actually moved to Quito, Ecuador, where she bought a house with Scott.
The Galapagos Islands are located about 600 miles to the west of the country of Ecuador. Claire rented out her home in Marysville and then
spent those two years in Quito. From there she explored South America with Scott and a couple from South Africa.
 The group back-packed for about five months traveling in buses heading straight down the coast of South America. There were no hotels between cities because the bus traveled continuously, changing drivers until they reached their destination. The only stop for the travelers was to eat.
 The best advice from Claire in all of her stories about this South American travel was to seriously guard your belongings and be alert
about your safety while traveling there. She said the most dangerous places were Peru, Bolivia and Colombia. Some cities even boasted that
young soldiers had machine guns trained on visitors on the street.  Claire, who speaks a little Spanish herself, saw unbelievable poverty
everywhere and the only available restrooms were generally awful. The hotels they stayed in when reaching destination cities were about $1 to
$3 a night (that says it all) with a community bath down the hall (ugh).  Claire said in most baths there were water heaters on the wall and if
you wanted hot water for a shower you had to reach up and make sure it was plugged in. Also there was the danger of electrocution if you were
standing in water. So, one had to be very careful there.
 She is obviously a very good sport and understood inconveniences were necessary to see and learn more about this part of the world. After the
five months, her time was up and she had to return home. She made that trip by herself. By this time she was a seasoned veteran in the world so
different from ours, but two weeks alone on the bus trip back was tough. She traveled all the way from Argentina to Ecuador alone.
 Quito is sunny year round with warm temperatures during the day and cold at night. Since it is at the equator, the sun comes up every day at
6 a.m. and sets at 6 p.m.
 Scott has been living in the Galapagos since 1992 and in 1993 he married Maria Elena Guerra, who is a native of Quito. She, too, has a
master's degree, hers is in business, and she now works for the World Wildlife Assoc.
 They have a home built on the side of a volcano and Maria and Scott have purchased a small coffee plantation which now has 2,000 trees from
which they harvest, grind and sell their product, called Lava Java, to specialty stores in the area. When they bought the property, they simply
uncovered a few of the native plants, which turned out to be coffee trees, so they just expanded on this idea.
 On the property they also grow bananas, passion fruit, grapefruit, lemons and papaya. To grow from a seed, a plant has to be harvested
there since no seeds are permitted to be imported.
 The Hendersons are in the process of returning their property on the Pacific Ocean to an environment indigenous to the Galapagos Islands.
That means removing all introduced plants and trees. Their home facing the Pacific Ocean is simple by our standards but probably lavish for the
islands. They respect the environment and waste nothing. As much as possible is reused. Water comes from a cistern and they now have
electricity, but there is no air conditioning or heat.
 Scott doesn't own a car because of the local laws. It seems that if you have an accident of any kind you go immediately to jail. If someone is
hurt in the accident they not only put you in jail but take all your assets. There is no court time involved there. So, Scott being the
bright young man that he is, takes a taxi for only $3 to work every day and it is only $1 to travel around town.
 In 2003, Scott joined Conservation International and he has just been made a regional director for marine conservation. It is a U.S.-based,
international organization which is nonprofit. Part of its mission statement says: "Conservation International believes that earth's
natural heritage must be maintained if future generations are to thrive spiritually, culturally and economically. Our mission is to conserve the
earth's living heritage and demonstrate that human societies are able to live harmoniously with nature."
 Scott obviously loves his work and the islands where he has made his home for the last 15 years. It's a long way (two-day trip) from Marysville.


Down memory lane
 Even though I didn't grow up in Marysville, I have many friends who did and they love to share their memories with me from time to time. I
recently got together with two of those friends, Janet Scheiderer (MHS class of '60), who was one of the first persons I met when I came to
town in 1969, and Kae Zorman (MHS class of '58), whom I worked with for many years. Kae also always has a good story to tell.
 Janet began with her high school basketball stories. She was and still is quite a good athlete. I play tennis with her now, but she also was a
member of the 1959-60 Marysville High School girls basketball team.
 There were 12 members, six juniors and six seniors. Six girls played at a time with three guards on one end and three forwards on the other.
Now, I know this already sounds strange to you, but there's more to the weird rules of girls basketball back then.
 In those days they were not allowed to cross the center line, so only the forwards could score. When a girl got the ball, she was allowed two
dribbles then stopped and passed the ball off. It sounds strange now.
 Janet said the MHS girls always had championship teams as part of the Mid-Eight league. The girls would play the same school the boys teams
were playing on Friday night. Their game was scheduled right after school with the boys playing in the evening.
 This also seems odd, but nice. The home girls team would then host their visitors for dinner at one of their houses so all could attend the
boys game - of course the most important - in the evening.
 Every year MHS hosts an alum night for members of past girls teams and Janet recently attended that with her sister Marilyn Spicer, MHS
basketball 1957-58, Carol Smith Schiff, a team member from 1959-60 and Carol Clifford Griffith, MHS girls basketball 1958-59.
 Janet was also a cheerleader and says the custom was to try out as a sophomore. If you made the squad then you were set for your junior and
senior year, too. No more tryouts. Polly Widner was the coach then.
 Kae's memories go back to her childhood and friend Sylvia Burnside Hagenlocker. They lived on the east side of town and walked to school
together and played together.
 This was a time when some say the slogan in Marysville was "east is the beast and west is the best," slightly dividing the town. Milk came in
glass bottles and the Kroger store was located on E. Fifth St. where the Elks Lodge is today.
 During the summer, Kae and her friend Sylvia were often asked to "mind the store" at the Farmers Supply on E. Fifth St. It was located next to
Kae's home and her mother's (Belva Ewing) beauty shop. When owner Forrest Burnside and repairman Bob Gordon were out on service calls, Kae
and Sylvia would answer the phone and talk to those entering the store.
 For their hard work they could watch the TVs sold in the store and they were treated to a Hires Root Beer. Drinking pop in the 1950s was a real
treat for these girls as payment for their work. They were able to pick cold root beer out of the iced tub next door at the Pure Oil station. It
was located where Shell is today on E. Fifth St.
 The office for the gas station didn't look like the gas stations of today. Kae said it was a small white building that actually resembled a
tiny wooden house.
 Then Kae remembered her "Aunt" Alice Galloway. Really she was just a good friend of her mother's. In fact when Belva was first married, Alice
stopped by one day during the Christmas season. She noticed no decorations and asked when Belva would put up her tree. She replied
there would be no tree that year, it was too expensive. This was 1939 and nearing the end of the Great Depression.
 Alice decided to do something about that. Her relative. Frank Galloway, owned a successful shoe store located on Main St. next to where the
Locker Room is today. He always had a beautifully decorated tree outside his store.
 One early morning at 2 a.m. there was a knock at Belva's door. When she opened it, their stood Alice with a tree decorated and ready to go.
Quickly Alice admitted it was from Frank's store, but she was sure he could get another one and after much objection, Belva accepted the tree.
The next day there was a huge outrage in Marysville. Someone had stolen a beautiful tree outside the Galloway Shoe Store. Who would do such a
thing? Belva felt terrible, but to this day Kae has kept many of the beautiful ornaments which adorned the "hot" tree.
 Kae also worked at Walgamots known as Walgies drug store. It was later Orahood's and then McCarthy's drugstore. She worked at the fountain
during high school along with Janet's sister, Marilyn Zell Spicer.
 This was a cherished job because the drugstore was an afternoon hangout for high school kids. Kae served cherry cokes and Janet loved the
elephants dandruff, which consisted of malt powder served over ice cream.
 One of Kae's favorite regular customers was Homer Viers. He worked at the bank next door and loved to come over and tease the girls. Often he
would ask them for a piece of their gum, so Kae decided on a prank of her own.
 While Homer was sitting at the counter, Kae put a piece of regular gum in her mouth and Homer asked as usual, "Can I have one, too?" She then
pulled out a piece of very hot pepper gum - different from what she had in her mouth. He didn't know it and when he put it in his mouth, his
face quickly reddened and he left the drug store immediately.
 Shortly after that Kae says that Sheridan Jobe, vice president of the bank, came over to see the girls at the drugstore and warned them never
to do that again. Homer was still downing glasses of water in an effort to stop the burning in his mouth.
 After that the girls nicknamed him "hot lips" and almost 50 years later Kae still calls him that!
 In the 1950s, Marysville was a small village, one where a clerk in the store would already know the customer when they entered ... one where
the police would more likely take a teenager home than arrest him ... one where the small downtown was filled with retail stores.
 Growth is good but those more innocent times are sure a pleasant memory for many. Pop Alexander remembered
 After my story about the Alexander family last week, Daryl Ingram sent me this note:  "It was sure good to read your column this week and remember Everett once again. Everett started helping us in 1974, and, like riding his motorcycle, worked up until a few months before his death, around nine years.
 "If memory serves me correctly, Friedabelle died in 1975. After her death, he was like a fixture here. He was so reliable that when we would
go away, I never had a worry. He looked after our business as if it were his own! Our kids saw him so much that they looked at him like a third grandpa.
 "We still think of Everett often and can't believe that he has been gone 24 years. In many instances, it still seems like yesterday that
he'd ride up on his Goldwing, BMW, or Suzuki, whatever he was riding at the time, crawl out of his leathers and have his sport coat on
underneath to work calling hours or a funeral!
 "What a good person and certainly, a great asset to this community!"

The Alexanders of Marysville
 Whether your family is large or small, all will agree the important thing is to be part of one filled with love and respect for each other.
 That describes the family which began in Marysville with Everett Alexander Sr. as its head along with his wife Friedabell. They set the
tone of warmth and closeness for their children and grandchildren.
 Everett arrived in Marysville in 1930 as an employee of the Standard Oil Co. and managed that business until 1947 when he started his own. He
named it, of course, Alexander Oil Co., and it was located on Milford Ave. on property that is now part of the Nestle Co.
 His home was later located right across the street, so it was easy to get to work. Just 10 years later he had built the business so well that
it was able to be sold to Buckeye Farm Bureau.
 Everett and Friedabell raised their five children, Everett Jr. (Alex), Virginia Grimes, Bob, Mary Snodgres and John, in a home on W. Third St.
 Oldest son Alex was also in the oil business and was, in addition, a small business owner. Along with Larry Johnson and John Robinson, he
opened the Suzuki Sports Center in 1966, where they sold motorcycles.
 It was located in a small building which sat in what is now the city parking lot on the Plum St. side. Later the motorcycle shop moved to the
corner of Walnut and E. Fifth Sts., where the Chamber of Commerce is today. Much of that original building - later razed to build the
Columbia Gas Co. - was occupied by Belva's Beauty Shop and the motorcycle shop shared the space in front.
 To digress a bit, I now know that Belva Ewing, Kae Zorman's mother, operated that shop for many years and her family lived in the back and
upstairs. Before the Suzuki Shop moved into that space, it was rented to the Farmers Supply Store owned by Forrest Burnside and managed by Bob Gordon.
 Kae remembers the Farmers Supply also sold appliances including TVs and it was in the early 1950s when few people had a television in their home
- certainly not her family. Forrest had a speaker installed outside so people could see the TV in the window and hear it, too.
 Kae remembers as a young girl in the summer time pulling up a lawn chair and watching TV at the business located next to her home.
 Returning to the main topic, Alex, known as Junior to his family, operated the Suzuki Shop until about 1974. He and his father were avid motorcyclists.
 The family of Everett Alexander Sr. was nearly grown by the year 1963 when he sought to change his work environment. In an application for
clerk and finance director to the Village of Marysville (note not yet a city), he listed all his experiences in the oil business including
running a large petroleum distributor. By this time he had also served two terms on the village council.
 Everett got that job and served from 1963 to 1970 and city income tax administrator from 1966 to 1970.
 He became ill in the early 1980s and knew he was dying, but couldn't give up that motorcycle. In fact just two weeks before his death, he was
spotted riding around town. Friends called his children and told them they had to get their dad off that motorcycle. His children tried, but
remember, he didn't take direction well in those later years. He wanted to do what he wanted to do.
 His children remember Everett was full of life and never knew a stranger. When he passed away in 1983, he had 12 grandchildren and now
there are 20 great-grandchildren.
 Two of the five Alexander children are still living, Mary Snodgres and youngest son, John. He and his wife Cheryl moved into his dad's home and
when he went to work it was also just a walk across the street ... to the Nestle plant. John is now retired.
 John and Cheryl have two children, Beaux and Kerri. Kerri Alexander Duncan (MHS class of '93) is now carrying on her family's tradition of
owning a local business. Almost a year ago she purchased a beauty shop on N. Main St. and renamed it Salon 122. She has made huge upgrades to
the property. Kerri, who was her class homecoming queen, has been in the hair styling business for 11 years. She and husband Scott have two
children, Josey and Drue.
 Kerri beams with pride as she tells of her growing business. After all, it's the town where she grew up - the theater across the street is where
she joined her friends. McCarthy Drug store, where she worked, was just down the street and the building she rents from Steve Dennis the barber
is more than 100 years old.
 Before the building was a beauty shop it was a photographer's studio for many years. Weldon Shaw started the business and Walter Fowler later
operated the only business of its kind in town well into the 1990s. The very room where she works, she remembers being photographed in by Fowler.
 I met with Kerri and her Aunt Mary to talk about their proud and loving family. The whole conversation with them seemed to be nothing but love
and enthusiasm for all their large family.
 I can see that Kerri is genuinely thrilled to carry on the Alexander family small business tradition and is anxious to continue supporting
the community where she grew up.

Little guys find a home
 She was a single lady, but wanted to be a mother. So, she settled on Guatemala as the source.
 Becky Parr (MHS class of '80) earned a bachelor's degree from Miami University and went on to Milwaukee School of Engineering for her
master's degree and began work as a chemist. Her life was almost full, but not quite enough. There was room for children and eventually two
little boys joined her to make a family.
 After much research, she learned that Guatemala would be a good choice as a source for a baby. It is the poorest country in the western
hemisphere with a high illiteracy rate. Their orphanages were overflowing with children several years ago, and thus many grew up on the streets.
 So, at that time Guatemala began offering their children a chance at a better life, and now since their numbers have dwindled, it is possible
to place these children in foster homes in Guatemala City before adoption. There is a waiting list for girls, but boys can be adopted in
just about six months from the first application.
 Becky began the process with Lutheran Social Services while living in Chicago. Then her work took her to Baltimore and now she has settled in
Troy, Ohio, working as a chemist with Spinnaker Coating.
 I thought it was expensive to adopt a child, but had not expected to hear from her that it was $35,000. But Becky certainly feels it is a
small price to pay for her two beautiful children.
 For the adoption of her first son, Eric, the process began in 2004 and after much paperwork she received a picture of the little baby boy who
would be her son. That did it. She was hooked.
 Becky and her mother, Doris Parr, were permitted to visit Guatemala City, the capital, and stay three days in the Marriott Hotel with Eric.
They could keep him alone in their room, but they were not permitted to leave the hotel with him since this was just a visit. Three months later
Becky returned to take him home.
 Those in the hotel spoke English, but very little was heard on the streets of Guatemala City and Becky's Spanish is just basic. Somehow the
Parrs still accomplished communication.
 The Marriott was called baby central and full of foreigners adopting the Guatemalan babies. There is some resentment from the natives that
their children are leaving the country. There is also just plain anti-American sentiment.
 Eric left a country whose residents speak Spanish and eat mostly fresh fruit and vegetables plus beans and tortillas. He was only six months
old, so adjusted quickly and is now a very cute, healthy little boy. He will be three years old next month.
 All went so well that Becky applied for a second baby boy. This process hit a small snag and became quite stressful. Apparently, an organization
named the Hague Convention was formed to standardize country to country adoptions. Guatemala was in, then out of the organization and the U.S.
is now in. After much yo-yoing, member countries are now settling in and babies can only be adopted if the countries representing both mother and
baby are members.
 Finally all was set for Becky to get new baby Ben last month. His adoption took a little longer because of the Hague Convention problems
and he is now 10 months old. She has had him for a month and noticed he is now understanding English better.
 Ben and Eric come from a culture where even toddlers are carried around  - never put on the floor - and most don't walk until two or three years
old. They were rarely allowed to crawl but Ben has now taken off at that task.
 Amazingly the two little boys look very much alike. They come from a place in the world where the people are a mix between Mayan Indian and Spanish.
 Eric loves this new little guy who has joined their family and Becky will take them back to Guatemala in a few years to show the boys their first home.
Where are they now?
 Darcy Neyman (MHS class of '90) married Rob Sole in 2001 and they have three daughters, Amber, Maggie and Madelyn. Now they live in the
Cleveland area, but are moving to Iowa. Rob will be working for Sherwin Williams. Darcy has been working for Quail Hollow Resort.
 Her brother, Tim Neyman (MHS class of '88) and his wife, Sarita, have a four month old daughter, Olivia. They live in Denver and moved there
from San Francisco about a year ago. Tim works for Kaiser Permante (he is a self described computer geek) and loving it.
 Lisa Rardin Hofmeister (MHS class of '86) lives in Littleton, Colo. with husband John and two children, Anne Peyton, 2 1/2 and Tom, 1, plus
assorted pets. Both Lisa and John work for Electronic Data Systems/EDS. She is a business manager, John is a senior project manager.
 Lisa is also working part time on a master's degree in counseling psychology at UC Denver for a career change, possibly in school guidance
counseling. Lisa and John live near Tim and Sarita, and after growing up together in Marysville, still see each other often.
 Lisa and John also keep in touch with Carol Eirich Ness (MHS class of '86) and husband, Todd, and their two little girls, who also live in Colorado.
 Lisa's brother Tim Rardin (MHS class of '90) lives and works in Philadelphia with his wife, Amy. They have a cat Sophie. Tim is a pastor
and Director of Asbury Protestant Ministry at Drexel University. He is the executive director of the Wesley Foundation of Philadelphia.
 Amy is an ordained elder, and currently serves as Pastor of Family Ministries at Covenant United Methodist Church in Springfield, Pa. She,
too, is back in school, for certification as a spiritual director.

Crazy Horse rides again
 Gene Sellers grew up in Columbus, fought in the Korean War and earned a bachelor's degree in fine arts from the Ohio State University. Then he
moved to Marysville in 1959 with the Scotts company.
 Last week I told you of his love of art in all forms and particularly his painting with water colors. But back in 1956 just as he was out of
college and starting his career, he also became very interested in sculpting. That was about the time he read an article in Reader's Digest
about the construction of the Crazy Horse Memorial and the sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski. It was just another form of artistic expression that Gene admired.
 At that time he wasn't able to make a significant monetary donation to this giant project going on in the west, but wrote to the sculptor in a
letter of admiration and awe of his work. He actually responded to Gene with a note of thanks. Many years later Gene would actually touch the monument.
 Korczak was an experienced sculptor and assistant on the Mt. Rushmore project, which is why Chief Standing Bear of the Lakota tribe invited
him to the Black Hills of South Dakota. There, they planned a memorial to his people using Crazy Horse as the subject.
 Crazy Horse was a brave Sioux Indian who was killed at age 33 when he was stabbed by a member of the American Cavalry as he was having a
discussion under a flag of truce. He was also famous for being present at the Battle of Little Bighorn.
 The site for the memorial-in-the-round was chosen after years of planning, and work began on this mountain which would eventually become
a memorial to all Indian tribes. When completed it will measure 563 ft. high and 601 ft. wide.
 The project began in 1948 when the sculptor was 40 years old. He passed away in 1982 at the age of 74, but his work has continued with dynamite
blasting and chiseling carried on by his wife Ruth and seven of their 10 children. Many other professionals have helped on the project, too. No
one knows when the huge mountain sculpture will be completed, since it relies only on private funds and depends on the weather.
 While the Sellers' children were growing up, Gene and his wife Norma took their three sons on two vacations to see the progress of this
project. Gene has continued to track the work and now he and Norma have made one more big trip to the Black Hills.
 The mountain project is located near Rapid City, S. D., and on one weekend each June a Volks March is permitted. This is when thousands
climb the mountain to see the project up close and personal. When you climb the five miles up through woods and then open rocky paths, Gene
said that you know you have done something. Then it is just 1 1/2 miles to go down.
 Gene wondered if he could do it. He is 78 and has had heart surgery and cancer. He decided to try it and credits his succeeding with the cardiac
rehab he has done and continues at the Memorial Hospital Health Center.  On the way up the mountain there are four checkpoints where food and
water are available. The hiker (many come from all over the world) climbs 900 feet to an elevation of about 7,000 feet. The air becomes a bit rare there.
 When Gene arrived at the top, he had been part of a group of 6,000 people that day and 5,000 had made the trip the day before to see the
finished head of Crazy Horse (all that is completed at this time). He was even able to touch its smooth surface.
 He did the entire trek in 2 hours and 50 minutes, which included 15 minutes at the site. The head of the sculpture is nine stories high and
will be part of the largest work in the world when finished. No one knows when the project will be done, but as long as it is progressing
the family of Korczak Ziolkowski is happy.
 The hope of those administering the project is to bring attention to the Indians and help surrounding tribes. At the base of the memorial
will be the Indian University and medical training center plus the Indian Museum of North America.
 This hike up the mountain was a source of pride for Gene and a true sense of respect for the amazing work going on in the Black Hills of S.D.
 Gene said, "This is truly a magnificent project and I think represents the best of what a person might dream and then dedicate themselves to accomplish."

The artist in residence
 His life began in Columbus, and led him to a nine-month stint in Korea and eventually to the Scotts Co. in Marysville.
 Gene Sellers graduated from North High School in Columbus in 1947. He was a talented artist and so entered the Central Academy of Commercial
Art in Cincinnati. There he studied mechanical illustration and did the three year course in just two years. So, in 1949 he started working for
an art studio in Dayton.
 While there, he lived at the YMCA and actually met his future wife Norma at a "Y" dance. Then came a time no one wanted to face. It was
1951, just six years after the end of World War II, and our country became embroiled in another war. It was called the Korean Conflict by
some, or the Korean War.
 The communist North Koreans were attacking the South Koreans, our allies. So we came to their rescue to prevent the spread of communism.
The Chinese joined the North Koreans at some point.  Gene had been a member of the Naval Reserve for three years, but the
draft was also active at that time. When his draft number came up he assumed he would enter the Navy full-time. Not so. Since there was no
room in the Navy, he was sent to the Army for combat.
 Gene was not happy. He said good-bye to Norma and was off to basic training. It's hard to understand now, but his military unit was one of
the first racially integrated ones and it was considered an experiment. All went well for Gene in that situation.
 Then came aptitude testing day. Gene, still ticked off that his life had been interrupted, barely read the questions. He was the first one
done on this multiple choice test and to his surprise his score was quite high. Thus he was assigned to the Counter Intelligence Corps known
as the CIC. The training that followed involved interrogating prisoners and learning the skills of gathering intelligence in the field. At least
this seemed better duty than fighting in the trenches.
 Then came an evening when Gene was out with his friends - possibly having adult beverages. The next day the three of them found themselves
volunteering for duty in Korea. Later they thought this was not the smartest thing they had ever done.
 The young soldiers arrived in Japan. Gene was seasick on the rough voyage over (maybe it's good he wasn't in the Navy). This was the
embarkation point for Korea and it was just days after the famous battle of Heart Break Ridge.
 Many American soldiers died there and so Gene was sent to the front lines with a rifle. Apparently, that's where they needed him more than
for intelligence work. It was certainly a long way from the Navy!  So here he was in 1951, and winter in Korea was known to be awful. Pvt.
Sellers was classified as part of the replacement troops for the soldiers killed in action and went to the front lines. He slept in
foxholes covered with snow, armed with a rifle aimed at the enemy. He had to use it, too. No fires were allowed, and it was cold! Periodically
he would rotate back to a camp behind our lines where they had tents and real food.
 His unit was involved in the battle of Baldy and Pork Chop Hill, all to force the communist North Koreans back into their own territory, north
of the 38th parallel.
 Gene earned about three points a month and since he was under enemy fire, he got his 36 points - enough to go home - more quickly. Nine
months later, in the spring of 1952, he was out of there and happy to be going home.  Something very good came out of his active duty. It was the GI Bill. It
paid for college. By 1954 he had married Norma and in 1955 graduated from Ohio State University with a degree in fine arts.
 Now he could finally get his life back in order. He went to work for an industrial design firm in Columbus. The Scotts Co. (O.M. Scotts & Sons
at that time) was a major client. For Scotts, his company designed mowers, spreaders and other mechanical and electrical products.
 Eventually Gene was hired by Scotts to do similar work there and he and Norma move to Marysville in 1959. He became part of creative services
and his group designed printed materials for the company.
 He retired in 1990, and has been very active with the Marysville Public Library. In fact, he has served 14 years on the library board of
trustees, with this being his final year. He has also served as the board's president.  He is an accomplished artist and paints daily using water colors. He
has worked in several other mediums, too. Soon he plans to be teaching another course in Marysville.
 Gene and Norma also love to travel and have done so extensively. They have three sons, Keith (MHS class of '77), who lives in Ft. Thomas, Ky.,
Scott (MHS class of '75), who lives in Oxford, Ohio, and Mike (MHS class of '81), who is out west in Steamboat Springs, Colo. There are also five grandchildren.
 Next week I'll write about a special destination for the Sellers - one which was more than 50 years in the making. Don't miss it - this subject is huge!

Our Austrian connection
 She graduated from Marysville High School in 2003 and went on to Wittenberg University. There Kayti McCarthy majored in education as an
early childhood and intervention specialist with a German minor. This helped prepare her for her first job out of college. Soon after
graduating (cum laude) in May of 2007, Kayti headed to Austria to teach English to students who speak a German dialect that is different than
the German she studied in college. So that is her first challenge.
 Kayti will be there until June and would love to stay longer but must return to the U.S. to teach in order to keep her teaching license active
here. She works as a teaching assistant and here is her first account of her experiences in Austria:
 "I have finally started to settle into the relaxed Austrian culture, after living here for nearly a month. I live in a town called Gmunden,
which is in the province of Upper Austria, about an hour and a half from the city of Salzburg and three hours from Munich, Germany.
 "I am here as a teaching assistant through the Fulbright Commission (they work with the Austrian Ministry of Education in choosing
candidates to be assistants all over Austria). I really lucked out in being assigned to Gmunden - it's a beautiful town, settled on the
northern side of Lake Traunsee, surrounded by mountains. It has several castles, one of which is the filming place of an Austrian TV series
(Schlosshotel Orth). It is also famous for the ceramics that are produced in the town for the last 500 years.
 "My first school is the Gmunden Bundesgymnasium, which includes grades 5-12. I work here every other week, and I typically work with 11th and
12th graders, but also the 9th and 10th graders, when time permits. The students are very friendly, as are the teachers, but as in any culture,
there are stereotypes of the foreigner's country that need to be disproven. Many of the students believed all Americans to be overweight,
eat McDonald's daily and own a gun. One of the student's first questions was whether I owned a weapon, and when I mentioned my mom and step dad
live in Texas, they wanted to know if either of them carry a gun, and if my step dad is a cowboy.
 "My second school is the Schloss Traunsee, and it is a gymnasium and boarding school. This school is very unique. It has its own small campus
with a park, the main school and also a castle that is used for some classes. In the main school, beside the main staircase, there is a slide
- I suppose to use to get to class more quickly. I have yet to see a teacher use it, but the 5th and 6th graders use it frequently.
 "In Austria, teachers move from classroom to classroom, and in between classes, they return to the conference room in order to regroup and
prepare for their next lesson. However, students also shift classrooms occasionally - it is much more complex than in America. Also, teachers
only need to be present when they have a class to teach - otherwise, they are not required to be at the school or to stay at school until the
end of the day.
 "Many of the people here are friendly and very welcoming. They are curious about America and have many preconceived notions - and I have
learned it is hard to disprove these notions. They would rather believe something they heard or saw on television than what I explain to them.
For example, one of my teachers was adamant that there are 52 states - as she corrected me when I told the students there are 50. She then
explained that Americans say there are 50 because we have 50 stars on the flag, but after we made the flag, we bought 2 more states - Alaska
and Hawaii. Later that week, she asked me about slang drug terms, to which I had to inform her that all I knew was that they were slang, and
not all Americans do drugs.
 "One of my friends here invited me to her grandfather's birthday party, which was a cultural experience. They really value family here, and
spend hours together to celebrate birthdays. They sang happy birthday, just as we do, except that instead of "dear" they say "liebe," which
means the same thing.
 "My students often ask if I like Austria and Gmunden, and what the biggest difference is between here and the States. I tell them that,
being an American, I feel as though I should always be doing something, always moving, and always have somewhere to be. So, on my first day
here, I went into town to find something to do. I walked around the lake and saw people sitting on benches, watching the lake, the swans and the
boats out on the water. I continued to walk along the lake all the way down to the Schloss Traunsee, and then turned around and walked back.
About an hour had passed and I saw the same people on the same benches, still watching the lake. So, I thought, that must be what they do here -
sit and watch the lake. So, I tried it.
 "I managed to sit for about 15 minutes before I had to be up and walking again. I walked back to my apartment and got my iPod, thinking
if I had something to listen to, I might be able to sit longer. So, I got my iPod, walked back to the lake, and sat. I managed to sit for
about 45 minutes, and then I was up and walking again. Now that I have been here a month, I have learned how to relax, but it has taken quite a bit of practice.
 "The food here is different, but very good, nonetheless. I have seen many interesting creations, even one just this weekend in Salzburg. My
friend ordered beef and noodle soup, with frankfurters and bread (as a meal). When it came out, it was not quite what she had expected. The two
frankfurters were laying in the bowl of noodle soup in beef broth. We assumed it was a way to save space, and save washing another dish, as
Austrians are very environmentally conscious. (It is illegal to not recycle here).
 "Another time, I went out to coffee with an Austrian friend and I ordered tea and cake, and she ordered coffee and "Kaese Tost" or cheese
toast. When her order came out, it was what we would call a grilled cheese, only she ate it with a fork and a knife, and dipped it in
ketchup and mayonnaise.
 "The climate is similar to New England. It's pretty cool outside, and supposedly the first snow could come in the next few weeks. It was
really nice out last week, so I wore capris and flip flops, and I got some pretty strange looks. I went into the bank, and they told me it was
too cold for flip flops in October - unless I wear them with socks.  I'll stay in touch with Kayti as she tries to get those Austrians to
understand Americans!

Urban Heat fires up
 Imagine you were a high school football player and loved the sport and wanted to do it again - maybe just one more time. Now, imagine you are a
Marysville firefighter and willing to put your stamina and muscles on the line for a very good cause.
 That's where the football team Urban Heat comes into play. The full-go football team will play in a tournament that benefits "Get Behind the Badge."
 There are four football teams participating in this yearly charity event with proceeds going to that fund, which benefits families of
police and firefighters who have been injured or killed in the line of duty in Ohio.
 The Urban Heat team includes Columbus suburban fire department members. Lt. Joe Daniels, a veteran of the games, is joined by Andy Hays, Adam
Smith, Nathan Burns, Sean Rengert, Josh Farley and Luke Streng (MHS class of '98) who are all Marysville firefighters. Recent college
graduate and MHS grad (class of '03), John Welty, works for the Powell Fire Dept. and is also on the team. He played for the Marysville
Monarchs just four years ago.
 Equipment such as pads and helmets is not provided, so team members sometimes borrow from their high schools or friends or scour resale
shops. Practices for the big event have already begun and muscles are surely aching by now.
 Because of the unusual firefighter schedules, it's sometimes hard to get everyone to attend practices at the same time, but when the games
really begin it will be all business and playing for bragging rights.  Beginning on Friday night, Nov. 2 at 7 p.m., there will be two football
games. The following Friday, Nov. 9 at 7 p.m., there will be two more games, the consolation game followed by the championship game. All of
the action will take place at St. Charles High School on East Broad Street in Columbus. Tickets are $5 and the events will also be shown on
the Columbus Sports Network on cable TV.
 The public is invited to watch our suburban oriented team called Urban Heat take on three other teams - from the Columbus Fire Dept., Columbus
Police Dept. and another team named the Enforcers made up of sheriff's departments and other police officers.
 It sounds like an entertaining evening and benefits a very good cause. Those who would like to make a donation to "Get Behind the Badge" can
contact the charity Web site at getbehindthebadge.org.
Where are they now
 Carrie Hoopes Cieliczka (MHS class of '90) now lives with husband Kyle and new baby, Campbell Jozef in San Diego, Calif. Her mother, Linda
Trees, was there for the birth of her new grandson. Linda's son-in-law, Kyle, was promoted to Chief Petty Officer in the U.S. Navy, and during
this visit there was a pinning ceremony.
 Carrie's brother, Bill, is retired from the U.S. Army and lives in Colorado Springs. He is a civilian employee at Ft. Carson, Colo., and
helps with troops returning to the U.S.
 Kayti McCarthy (MHS class of '03) has just arrived in Austria for a year of teaching English. I will have her story next week.

What teachers make
 I love it when people send me ideas for this column. Jerry Collette, former Marysville teacher, did that recently, probably without realizing
it. (Then maybe he did.)
 He e-mailed a note to me entitled, "What teachers make." It really made me think.  Many people feel that teachers aren't paid nearly what they're worth.
How many of us could spend eight hours a day with 20 some children, and live to tell about it? Of course, teachers are trained to handle the
situation plus impart knowledge to our children, but only a few human beings have the stamina and talent for the job.
 Here's the story of what teachers make.
 The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued,
"What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
 He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers: "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."
 To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Mary. Be honest. What do you make?" Mary, who had a reputation for honesty and
frankness replied, "You want to know what I make?" She paused for a second, then began:
 "Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor.
"I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for five minutes without an IPod, Game Cube or movie rental.
 "You want to know what I make?" She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.  "I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them apologize and
mean it.  "I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions. I teach them to write and then I make them write. Keyboarding isn't
everything. I make them read, read, read. I make them show all their work in math. They use their God-given brain, not the man-made calculator.
 "I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know in English, while preserving their unique cultural identity. I make
my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
 "I make my students stand, placing their hand over their heart to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, One Nation Under God, because we
live in the United States of America.
 "Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life.
 Mary paused one last time and then continued. "Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn't everything, I can
hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant.
 "You want to know what I make? I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make, Mr. CEO?"  His jaw dropped, he went silent.
 After reading this thought provoking story, I went on to remember some of the wonderful teachers who helped shape my life from elementary
school to high school to college. In all areas there were outstanding examples of professionalism.
 I remember being the new kid in the second grade after just moving to the school district. Everyone already knew each other on that first day
of school and I was very shy. My new teacher, Mrs. Falling, introduced me and told the class she was sure they would all like me. I remember a
huge sigh of relief after that beginning. She would go on to be one of my favorite teachers and it was a simple thing for her to say, probably
something she said about every new student, but to me on that first day of school it was a life saver.
 I also remember Marysville teachers Dorothy Myers and Kay Liggett, who both had a profound effect on the life of my son, Mike. Then there were
coaches Bob Williams and Lenard Andrews who helped both our sons Mike and Kevin mature outside the classroom.
 In fact, I would like to acknowledge, right here, all teachers who taught my children in the Marysville schools. Even though I haven't
mentioned you, I appreciate your talent and preparation of my children for college and life.
 In the 1950s and '60s when I was growing up, students were somewhat afraid of their teachers and at first it was a big deal to actually
learn their first name, though of course we could never use it. Now the relationship between students and teachers, though hopefully still
respectful, is more casual. So let us all acknowledge these devoted individuals who guide our children into the world.
 So, what do teachers make? Not nearly enough!
Preparing for the gala
 It will be the culmination of a year of preparation. It will be a fundraiser which will benefit specific areas of the Gables. It is the
annual Festival of Tress named this year the Wonderland of Trees sponsored by the auxiliary of Memorial Hospital of Union County.
 Every year the hospital auxiliary prepares for a night of dining, dancing and fun. Arnett Howard and his band will provide the music. The
result is a fundraiser and this year the beneficiary will be the dining room and outdoor terrace of the Gables.
 It's an event you will not want to miss as there are always new surprises each year. If you would like more information about the event
scheduled for Saturday, Nov. 3 at Made from Scratch in Dublin, contact Marianne Berbee at 644-1283.

Awesome, atypical, adventurous life - part II
 The life of Jack Crothers (MHS class of '57) has taken many interesting turns and last week I told you about his early years in Marysville. This
is part two of his story.
 He and his wife Carol were on the second leg of a round-the-world trip. The year was 1973. During the trip, Carol and Jack had become friends
with two Canadian young ladies who were recent high school graduates and traveling with them. Previously they had been on a motor safari
beginning in Cape Town, South Africa.
 The event happened on May 15, 1973. The four traveling companions were in Southern Rhodesia near Victoria Falls. The Zambezi River in that area
served as a boundary between unfriendly Zambia and Rhodesia. Located near the falls was a large power plant right on the Zambian bank of the river.
 The travelers had planned a day of hiking to see the falls. As the group walked along the bank of the river they looked up at the power
plant and saw about 10 people watching them. They thought they were workers.  Just then they heard rifle shots and pieces of rock and metal were
flying around them. One of the young Canadians girls was immediately hit. She soon died there and the other young lady fell in the river
never to be recovered. It was a 300-foot drop into the crocodile-infested river.
 After this unbelievable tragedy and with no time to absorb what just happened, Carol looked at Jack and saw that he had been hit too. His
face was all bloody. But the shots kept coming and they attempted to reach some sort of cover. As they tried to help the girl who had been
shot, Jack was hit again in the left hip by more rifle fire. He slid into the river, but managed to crawl out and made his way to the point
where Carol was now hiding.
 "They kept firing until about 5:30 p.m.," Jack said. "We knew they were firing at us because we could see the bursts of dust from the shots and
hear the bullets hit the rocks."
 Even after the firing stopped Jack and Carol were afraid to move from their place of cover because they could still be in full view of these
men. The Crothers were waiting for the sun to go down, but it was a strange night. It never got dark. When the moon came up, it was just as
if it was daylight. Jack said, "The light was so bright we thought they had search lights turned on us from the power plant."
 It was not until about 10 p.m. that the Crothers were discovered by two park rangers and a native tracker who had been sent out to search for
them. One of the rangers made his way around the point and discovered the body of the first young lady who had been killed. About 2 a.m., when
shadows fell, Jack was carried out and evacuated by helicopter.  Cover and protection was provided by the Rhodesian Air Force for his
exit. Jack was removed to a hospital in Wankie, Rhodesia, where he stayed for three weeks recuperating from his wounds. His hip wound heal
after a time, but there were fragments of metal in his eye causing some problems with focusing.
 By this time you must be wondering why did these men fire on Jack and Carol Crothers and their friends. Carol said, "There was no reason for
it - they could obviously see we were tourists. We carried no handbags or anything else. They could see there were three women and one man.
 The United States lodged a protest with the Zambian government, which apologized. The officials claimed that the four travelers were fired
upon because the power plant's sentries thought they were attempting to swim the river with explosives intending to destroy the plant. The
Crothers feel this idea was absolutely ridiculous.
 Three weeks after entering the hospital Jack left on crutches. After two more weeks he could walk reasonably well and he and Carol decided to
continue their long planned trip.
 After seeing Kenya, Israel, Greece and England they flew home to the U.S. Jack at that point had only minor pain.
 Today he has no ill effects of this tragic experience, but the event is still clear in his mind as well as Carol's.
 Back home in the U.S., they toured the country applying for jobs. They decided to take the best offer, and Carol got it - back at IBM. In 1974
when their daughter Ann was born, Jack stayed home with her, loving the job of house husband.
 The Crothers family moved all over the country with Carol's job. In each place Jack would buy homes and rehab them, selling some and keeping
others. In fact they are still doing that in the Seattle area, where they live on Mercer Island in Lake Washington. Ann now lives on the East
Coast with her two children, so that gives Jack and Carol a reason to travel east several times a year.
 Jack Crothers has had an awesome, adventurous, atypical as well as happy and fulfilling life.

An awesome, atypical, adventurous life
 Eventually his life would take several interesting turns, but it began in Marysville in 1939. John "Jack" Crothers grew up on seven acres on
Milford Avenue near the edge of town with his parents, Fred and Marjorie, and a sister, Jane.
 His father, Fred, had been a lineman for REA and lost an arm and a leg in an electrical accident. The year was 1941 and Fred received little
compensation for the accident, so the Crothers family had to find another way to make money. They used the seven acres to raise as many as
5,000 chickens and vegetables for sale.
 Jack helped plant, weed, harvest and sell the crops for what might have been a good price at the time - 50 cents a bushel for corn and tomatoes.
Beans were $1, but Jack said they were hard to pick and took forever.
 His disabled father was very handy and eventually rigged his car so he could drive. He also crafted many tools to help him with the farm work.
 Jack needed to make money, too, so at 15 he began working at Oakdale Cemetery after school mowing and digging graves. On Memorial Day
weekend, the kids were asked to spend the night in tents at the cemetery to prevent anyone from stealing flowers. He said that was lots of fun
and so were the self-propelled mower races.
 Their favorite prank was to throw ice water on the sweatiest guy as he mowed. It was almost paralyzing. This was in the mid 1950s.
 When he wasn't working, Jack was playing touch football in the open field next to the Nestle plant on Collins Avenue. That was the place to
be. The games became so rough that there were some injuries involving stitches. On Saturday and Sunday, the high school varsity players would
join in, but the coach soon barred them from playing fearing they would get hurt in the touch game!
 In the summertime, the armory on E. Fourth St. was the place for dancing. At least once a month teenagers met for music provided by
records. Occasionally a group led by young Bill Otte, who played the sax, would perform.  Bill was killed in a car accident on the Raymond Road while in high
school. Jack thinks he might be the last person to have seen him that day. As Jack walked to work at the cemetery, the car passed him with
Bill inside waving and smiling as the kids quickly made the turn onto the Raymond Road. Three teenagers, including Bill, died that day in the car crash.
 In the 1950s on Saturdays in downtown Marysville the Avalon theatre offered Screen-O, a form of bingo. Numbers were projected on the theater
screen. One evening Jack paid 12 cents to get in. That was the night he won a $10 Screen-O prize. It was a big deal.
 On Oct. 22, 1954, Marysville had a legitimate UFO citing. Mrs. Ditttmar, a teacher, was the one who reported it. Jack remembers later
lots of green angel hair type material falling to the ground. Later in college he attended a speech on UFOs by a scientist. There he heard a
report on two such incidents with the green material floating down after the sightings. The only two that were recorded was one in Marysville and
the second in Brazil.
 Teenage pranks have been around forever and in the 1950s fireworks were strictly forbidden. That's why Jack and his friends (John Merriman might
have been among them) set off fireworks on the east side of town.
 They counted on the fact that someone would call the police. As Jack remembers, there was only one police car at that time, but at least two
policemen working on a weekend. The car would race to the scene of a call and the kids would repeat the act on the far west side of town.
Their thrill was to enjoy watching the police look for the culprits as they raced to the scene of a prank on the opposite side of Marysville.
 Jack graduated from Marysville High School in 1957 and first attended the prestigious General Motors academy. After a year of non-serious
study he enlisted in the U.S. Navy and spent seven years in the service, volunteering for submarine duty. When stationed on the Nautilus he
discovered a rare occurrence. Marysville native Bill Kirby (MHS class of '60) was also a member of the crew.
 Jack wanted to go back to college and after the Navy the GI Bill helped send him to OSU. He graduated in three years in 1969 with a degree in
marketing. There he met his wife, Carol, and they were married in 1971, both taking jobs with IBM in Cleveland.
 Just two years later they had saved enough money to quit their jobs and take a round-the-world, year-long trip. The experience began in November
of 1972 in Central and then South America. All went well until the Crothers started up the continent of Africa from the south. Then tragedy struck.
 Part two of the Crothers story will continue next week.

Honoring veterans
 In the last few weeks I have highlighted several WWII stories. Now I am including one about a current honor for those men and women who were there.
 It was the brainchild of Earl Morse of Springfield. He is a private pilot who owns a plane and became aware that each day about 1,000 WWII
veterans die. Most have never seen the relatively new WWII memorial in Washington, D.C.
 Earl and other friends who own planes began flying veterans at no charge to see that site. The movement has grown into the Honor Flight
and once a month they now use commercial aircraft to fly veterans for a day trip to Washington, D.C.
 The veterans are treated to a free plane trip, meals and a day at the memorial. Wheelchairs or other special medical needs are also provided.
Escorts or "guardians" go along at their own expense to help the veterans who are all at an advanced age.
 Local resident Ross Ingram recently made the trip and was tearful when telling of the kindness which was shown to him. On his particular trip,
Bob Dole was also there at the memorial to shake hands with everyone. This entire program is run through donations. Applications for a WWII
vet to make the trip are available online at honorflight.org.
 What a worthwhile mission this is.
Calendars are here
 If you enjoy history and particularly that of Union County you must not miss the newest effort by the Union County genealogical society. Much
preparation has gone into a beautiful memorial calendar that they have just printed.
 Marie Bouic, Paul Powers and Rebekah Headings are members who put this lovely commemorative effort together. Inside are many pages of Union
County history and short biographies of local people who have served in all the wars of our country.
 The genealogical society was formed in 1979 by a group of genealogists and historians interested in preserving the family histories of Union
County. They are the people to see to learn how to research your family.
 The calendar consists of many pages of local history and notations of events. If you're curious about how our county began and has evolved you
will enjoy this effort by the society.
 The Miller family, owners of Natural Accents florists, will be displaying the calendar and you may see and purchase it there. For more
information those interested can also call Jeanne Haynes at (937) 642-4701. More on "Blackie" Porter
 Here's a note from Bill Boyd which I just received about the John "Blackie" Porter story:
 "I really enjoyed your story about Blackie Porter. I was a young kid, maybe 10 years old, when Blackie came home on leave to the home of Bill
Porter. I was playing with young Bill and a raft of other kids when Blackie arrived, and he had the kind of personality that drew kids to him like flies."
 "We all thought he was the greatest. I still remember him, in uniform, getting on a bicycle backwards and riding it perfectly. We thought that
was the greatest thing we had ever seen. He was the kind of guy everyone admired."
 John "Blackie" Porter had many ties to our community and much of the information used in the story about him came from Marysville natives Jim
and Gordon Snider. Jim even told me that John was the one responsible for teaching Tobe Conrad to swim - that would be during Blackie's days
as a lifeguard at Marysville swimming pool.
 I also received a note from Janet Porter, Blackie's great-niece who now teaches at Raymond Elementary School. She wrote: "John L. 'Blackie'
Porter was my grandfather's (William 'Bill' Porter, Sr.) brother. It was great to be able to read more informatin about John Lawrence. I didn't
know anything about "Blackie's Gang" or the extent of the missions he flew - just that he and some of the other brothers died in the war (I
was the first girl in the family in over 60 years)."
 Janet writes that her brother was named John Lawrence Porter after her great-uncle John Lawrence "Blackie" Porter. She was happy to learn more
about the man she only heard about but never knew who was such a hero.
Words, words, words
 My job over the last eight years has become one of words. I am always looking for a good word to express my thoughts, and here are some you
just might be seeing in the future.
 The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate
meanings for common words.
 Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
 Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
 Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
 Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
 Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
 The Post's invitational asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and
supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners. We used to call these sniglets!
 Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
 Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
 Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
 Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
 Karmageddon (n): It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the earth explodes and it's
like, a serious bummer.
 Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
 Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
 Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.

"Blackie" Porter, U.S. Army pilot
 He had several nicknames but generally John "Johnny" Porter (MHS class of '34) was known as "Blackie" to his friends and fellow servicemen.
WWII was a long way from Marysville and Johnny's days as a lifeguard at the Marysville swimming pool.
 He joined the Army Air Corps and became a pilot, a good one. Once during the war, after he had flown home on leave, he buzzed the Union
County Courthouse in a B-25 bomber, something which local people talked about for a long time.
 Later, flying a C-47 in Asia during the war, he was all business. One of Blackie's brothers, George Porter, was killed at Pearl Harbor and
Blackie was constantly trying to avenge his death, according to a fellow flier. Another brother, Bill Porter, became a local attorney and was
elected as Union County Prosecutor.
 Blackie was part of the group of pilots who flew "The Hump" daily taking 44,000 tons of supplies a month from India to China during the
war. This was a very dangerous trip because they had to cross awesome mountains, deep gorges and dense jungles. During one crossing, Gen.
Joseph Stillwell noted the up and down drafts seemed ready to break up his airplane.  Without radio aides, route maps or destination weather information, the
pilots relied heavily on reporting. Each crew became vital to the next. In addition to other difficulties, oxygen was required and navigators
were necessary, but unavailable.
 During monsoon season which seemed to prevail either at one end or the other, the weather was normally terribly rainy and with dense clouds or
fog. The toll of missing men and planes was depressing and morale was fragile.
 During just a three-month time, those flying the hump had contributed to 77 major accidents and 134 fatalities. That's why our rescue team was
needed and Blackie Porter organized it.
 Capt. John "Blackie" Porter had over 2,200 flight hours and decided a permanent rescue network was needed for the downed pilots. He was
appointed air rescue officer and implemented the first search and recovery outfit on the hump. He personally recruited three other pilots
and 10 enlisted man, scrounging two war weary C?47s. Soon he added two B?25s and secured from a salvage officer the use of the PT?17 that
belonged to Gen. Stillwell.
 Soon the planes from "Blackie's Gang," as they were called, were flying two missions a day while the mechanics worked on the aircraft at night.
Their job was to search the terrain below for survivors of downed planes. When they were spotted, the search and rescue unit would drop
yellow streamers with notes communicating with these men. Later, walkie talkies were dropped with some success and supplies were air dropped
daily during a rescue. Jungle survival kits were also added.
 Blackie worked with medical personnel to establish a volunteer group of medics to parachute into remote crash sites as needed. Jungle experts
were also added to the volunteer team. Blackie was filling a vital role for his fellow fliers.
 John was known as a gentleman in everything he did and here was his chance to do more for his fellow servicemen. On his last mission, there
were to be three other Marysville boys with him putting themselves in jeopardy. Cpl. Walter Herd (MHS class of '31) was on Porter's base in
India and invited to come along that day, but his commanding officer couldn't spare him.
 Lt. Tom Foley (MHS class of '40) was to be copilot that day, but became ill and was hospitalized. Sgt. Harold Neibler (MHS class of '36) did fly
that day, but he did not make it back.
 Blackie's last day, Dec. 10, 1943, went like this:
 Blackie's replacement copilot, Jim Spain, with Blackie and four others in the crew that day, tells this story from the book, "Flying the Hump."
 "Blackie and I were preparing to take off on a drop mission when we heard a mayday from one of our C-47s under attack by Japanese planes in
the valley of Ft. Hertz, Burma. With a brief, 'Let's go get 'em,' Blackie slammed the throttles forward and lifted off the runway. We
raced at top speed of 140 m.p.h. climbing to 18,000 feet to clear the first ridge as we entered Southern Burma. Nearing the point of distress
we saw the C-47 burning on the ground, but its crew survived the crash landing and were rescued."
 "Citing two Japanese planes in the vicinity, Blackie dove his B-25 like a fighter and attacked them. During the dogfight, a flight of about a
dozen more fighters was seen headed our way. As they were flying in two-plane elements, we believed they were our planes."
 "Unfortunately the fighters were Japanese zeros. They started attacking us so we tried to get down as close as we could to the hills between
Burma and India. Our right engine caught fire and we had to feather it. Immediately, one of the zeros pulled in on our left side and shot the
left engine out setting more of the plane on fire. John immediately gave the word to bail out."
 "Due to being so low over the mountains I was the only one able to depart through the top hatch of the plane. I became stuck in the narrow
opening, and then Blackie stood up and pushed me out of the escape hatch. I estimated we where approximately 200 feet above the mountains.
By the time I pulled the ripcord, made two swings and hit the trees, the airplane had crashed and exploded. The intercom had been shot out and
the airplane was so low, I was the only member of the six-man crew to bail out. After 16 days in the jungle alone, I managed to get back over
to our headquarters on Christmas night. I owe my life to John 'Blackie' Porter."

War is hell
 As I drove through downtown Ostrander on my way to his home, I noticed the Masonic building and it's tribute to the town's WWII veterans. There
was his name - Donald Wilson.
 I had already heard his story through the DVD that Dr. Jim Cornett produced with Don reviewing his WWII experiences and now I would meet
him and learn more.
 I was to learn about a time when Lucky Strike cigarettes changed from a green package to a red one saying "Lucky's gone to war." A carton of
cigarettes was 50 cents, and it seemed that everyone smoked then. A soldier's pay to start was $50 a month.
 Don's story began with his living on a farm with his family just outside Ostrander. He attended Watkins High School until his junior year
and moved on to graduate from Ostrander High School in 1940. He wasn't drafted into the army until 1942.
 After volunteering for parachute duty (it was an extra $50 a month pay) he was quickly trained at Ft. Benning, Ga. and after just three weeks of
parachute jump training - five jumps in all - he was considered ready to go to war. The paratroopers were trained to pack their own chutes and Don said
they worried from the Friday packing to the Monday jump if all was done right. He was part of the 101st. Airborne Division and was sent to England.
 Don said the country was beautiful. In the midst of training, which included night jumps, hand grenades, land mines, bazookas and learning
to kill with their bare hands, they also got used to fish and chips served on the street and playing darts in pubs. All the combat skills
would come into play for these men when they reached the beaches of Normandy and later in Holland.
 Soon the paratroopers were taken to a marshalling area and informed they would be invading France on June 6, 1944. At 1 a.m., after two
hours in the plane, they made their first jump into combat. Don landed in an open field which he said was the blackest place in the world.
Fortunately, he avoided "Rommel's asparagus," which were poles in the ground carved to a point to spear paratroopers or glider planes.
 Immediately upon landing Don got out of his parachute and assembled his rifle. Soon he was able to join up with three others and made it to
division headquarters near St. Mere-Eglise. Fighting was going on all around them and they encountered several skirmishes with the Germans
along the way.
 Several of these encounters were aided by U.S. ships firing from the English Channel. Don's memories about the jump are blurred he said by
the sights, sounds and horrible smell of war.
 Along with the soldiers, a Catholic priest named Francis Sampson jumped, too. Don said that he was a wonderful man. He had no rifle, just
the instruments needed to perform church duties. Later, in Holland, he was captured by the Germans and imprisoned. After WWII, Father Francis
stayed in the service through Korea and Vietnam and Don later saw him at many WWII reunions.
 During this mission, Don's friend Art Doebert from Wisconsin was killed. He was one of the soldiers who spoke German and so was sent by
the commanding officer to speak to the Germans who were coming out of hiding with rifles on their heads. Our troops thought the Germans were
surrendering, but the when the Americans came close the Germans opened fire and shot everyone at close range.
 After 34 days of fighting the Germans, Don's unit was sent back to England to regroup. That was in July, 1944, and by September they were
headed to the next combat mission, Operation Market Garden. This was to secure a corridor through Holland and ending in Arnhem which would be
the way into Germany.
 Just three weeks later Don was fired upon and his cheek cut open. That injury required him to be sent back to England for a few weeks for
treatment. Don was promoted from private to corporal and was making $64 a month. He was also anxious to get back to his unit now in France, and
soon after his arrival all the men were loaded into open trucks in zero degree weather and traveled for 15 hours.
 The only way the men knew where they were was by a road sign -Bastogne. But they didn't know what country. Later they would find out it was
Belgium and they were headed to the Battle of the Bulge.  Don was about to encounter the worst. On Dec. 19, 1944, there was ice,
snow and a lot of fog in Belgium, but the men could hear German tanks all around them. They were ordered to spread out in the trees and as
they did that at 11 a.m. the German tanks began firing on Don's unit. In just one minute all members of his squad were hit. He had shrapnel in
his back, arm and leg and he was unable to walk.
 With help from a friend he eventually found an aide station and was taken to a hospital in Belgium through heavy enemy fire. He was
eventually taken back to England. There Don had surgery to repair his multiple wounds and it would be five years of recovery time.
 Don finally returned home in September of 1945 with a leg brace and a cane. He is the recipient of the Purple Heart, Oak Leaf Cluster, Bronze
Star and numerous theater of operations awards.
 He wasn't well enough to return to farming but did start a relationship with Gladys Pound who had been writing to him. They married in October
of 1945 and will soon be celebrating 62 years together. They have one daughter and two grandchildren.
 Don soon applied for a job at the Ostrander post office and took the civil service exam. Because he was a disabled veteran he was quickly
made postmaster even though he'd never worked in the post office before. He held the job for 28 years retiring in 1977.
 Now in their home near Ostrander, an area where they have lived all their lives, Don and Gladys are still living a good life.

Writer, producer, director and actor
 He now lives in New York City and is part of the theater world, but he spent his first 18 years in Marysville. Matt Gray (MHS class of '93) is
currently project director of the American Opera Projects and has held this position for the last four years.
 His main job includes serving as the producer and developing new operas from the hundreds that are written and submitted to his company every
year. He works with the composer who writes the music, and the librettist who adds the words, to premiere one new opera worldwide each year.
 His company also runs 15 workshops each year, where scenes from potential productions are presented and critiqued in their process to
become future operas. Here, potential investors in the opera productions can view the new works.
 Matt also writes grants for money to fund the operas, which may come from federal, state and city sources.
 Unlike plays which can be around for several years, new operas run about three weeks off Broadway. The operas are expensive to produce, but
audiences are growing even though, unlike Europe, there are few opera houses in our country. Matt tells me there is no shortage of talent and
there are many more beautiful opera voices than can be accommodated in this country. Many of the future opera stars go to Europe, where there
is much more work available.
 In his spare time he has a new project where he serves as writer, director and maybe actor for a production of a different variety. The
play he is working on will be actually a series of plays with a new story told each month. Much like a TV series, a new episode will
premiere in the ongoing story and the series will run for a year. That's a lot of writing!  For more of his spare time activities, Matt and a company of 12
performers have been part of an ensemble group presenting the play "Mad Forest." This group has been nominated for the New York Innovative
Theatre award to be presented on Sept. 24. The award is to honor those who have achieved excellence in off-off Broadway productions. The
ensemble had to learn lots of the Romanian language since the play took place during the Romanian revolution of 1989.
 Matt's life will change markedly next May when he is married in Brooklyn. First English Lutheran festival
 It's an Oktoberfest but it's being held on Saturday, Sept. 15. The hours are 11:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. and it will take place on the grounds of
First English Lutheran Church, 687 London Ave. German music will be provided by Ken Nicol and Mary Drake. Food will include sauerkraut and
pulled pork sandwiches from Rick's Grill.
 An auction begins at 2 p.m. and will include a Wurlitzer Synthesizer Organ, paintings, quilts and Football Hall of Fame tickets plus many
other items. There will be games and hot dogs available for the kids. Back to school
 Every year, English teachers from across the country submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays.
 These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the country. Here are last year's winners:
 "Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
 "She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
 "She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.  "Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
 "He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
 "The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a
formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
 "The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.  "From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30 p.m.
 "John and Liza had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
 "He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
 "Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
 "The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
 "He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine
or something.  "He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.  Love those thinking high school students!

Our Japanese connection
 You may remember that Andy McCarthy (MHS class of '01) has been teaching in northern rural Japan since his college graduation. Here is
what he has been up to lately.
 Andy writes: "I just recently returned from my trip abroad for the summer. It's very difficult to get out and see the world during the
school year. Even during this year's summer vacation, I've found my time consumed traveling between school and coaching students for the English
speech contest in September."
 "Naturally, then, when there was a chance to get out and see something, I jumped at it. Last year around this time, I stayed in Japan and went
north to the island of Hokkaido to escape the heat. This year, it appears I swung towards the other axis and dived straight into the
hottest place I could find, spending a whole 10 days in the sweltering sauna that is Vietnam."
 "I was fortunate in college to have a friend from Hanoi who helped me a lot in setting up the trip. Three days in Hanoi, the capital; three days
in Hue, the cultural center; and two days in Nha Trang, with one of the best beaches in the world (or so the Vietnamese allege) and my trip
would be complete."
 "Having been to parts of Southeast Asia before, and having been abroad already for several years, I was sure landing in Vietnam I would be
fine. Honestly, I had no idea what I was in for. I was really glad to have a friend in Hanoi to help me get my senses straight for the first
few days, because there was a lot to get used to, not just the heat."  "The roads are a challenge unto themselves in that, despite the lines
on the pavement and the foreboding traffic officers standing on pedestals in soldiers uniforms, there seems to be a total lack of law
and order. My cab from the airport drove in both lanes wherever it could, ruthlessly abusing the horn and nearly knocking over another
ambitious driver, an old lady who had strapped onto her motorbike three cages packed with chickens."
 "Swerving at high speeds through motorbike-crowded traffic is not uncommon either, even if your motorbike happens to be carrying two
chests of drawers or something more valuable, say, me. My friend took me around on her motorbike for my first few days in country, and I was
grateful to get accustomed to this reckless way of travel with someone I know before being thrown out into the wider world of Vietnam on my own."
 "Aside from the driving, the other thing that took getting used to was arguing over price, especially when it came to transportation. But once
you get used to the pattern of negotiations, it's not so bad - the driver throws out a ridiculously high price, you throw out a
ridiculously low price, the driver acts insulted, you walk away, the driver decides to meet you in the middle at a decent price. And the next
time he sees you, the driver is waiting with a smile to repeat the ritual and take you anywhere you like."
 "The food was great and, with the exception of Highlands Coffee (Vietnam's answer to Starbucks). All the restaurants were open air.
Since I was traveling only with my friend or, for parts of the trip, entirely on my own, I didn't engage in too many culinary adventures,
though the possibilities certainly weren't lacking with things like pig's feet, intestines, and dog in the marketplace. A note on dog - the
body and the head are sold separately, though what exactly you can make with dog's head I'm not quite sure. The Vietnamese do have an amazing
drink though, that involves liquefied beans and chunks of tapioca and Chinese black jelly."
 "All the sights along the way were beautiful and thought provoking, including the tomb of Vietnam's most lavish king. When his subjects
found out about the king's plans for his tomb, and how extensive they were, there was a coup attempt which failed. Afterwards, the king was so
paranoid he still built his lavish mausoleum (with separate areas in the tomb dedicated to his son, first wife, and mistresses), but then refused
to be buried in his tomb for fear of grave robbers. Some 200 slaves moved the body somewhere out in the wilderness, buried it, and were then
consequently all beheaded."
 "Another temple paid homage to a monk who drove to Saigon (despite the name change to Ho Chi Minh City, many Vietnamese still seem to call it
Saigon), got out of the car, sat in meditation, and burned himself alive to protest religious persecution."
 "The trip was a learning experience and, despite the heat, the kamikaze traffic, and having to argue over pennies to buy a coke, many Vietnamese
showed themselves to be good people. On a long train ride across the country, the young lady sitting next to me got off at a stop and bought
ice cream for both of us. Earlier she bought two bags of raw sugar cane so we had something to munch on for the 15-hour trek. She spoke no
English, but still kept me company and helped me figure out exactly where our train was (hard to do even for Vietnamese at three in the morning)."
 "Still another man I met in Hue was giving tours of the DMZ (a social step up from his previous work as motorbike driver). Even though he knew
I was leaving the next day and couldn't hire him, he still sat down and chatted about his two years of working with the U.S. in the DMZ. He
didn't harbor any ill will, but clearly had more than his fair share of sad memories, and an emotional attachment to where he spent two of the
riskiest years of his life. I feel very fortunate to live in a time when I can go, see, and experience places like Vietnam, and I'm very glad I went."
 "Aside from all of this, life in Japan has been busy as usual. Festival season has started, and I just spent the last three days with a student
and his family in the countryside for obon, a time of the year when Japanese honor their ancestors. The honoring seems to take place by
consuming large quantities of beer while munching on raw horse meat and pig vertebrae, but to each their own. My townsfolk have gotten used to
me over the past two years, and this family in particular has always gone out of its way to make me feel welcome."
 "In addition, within three hours of coming home from Vietnam, six students knocked on my door either wanting to hang out or ask me how my
trip was." Obviously, this is the experience of a lifetime for Andy. I will stay in touch with him as he continues his story in the Asia.

Teacher, navigator and back
 He was born in Toronto, Ohio, a small steel town on the Ohio River and became a captain in the U.S. Air Force and a much respected navigator.
His tour of duty was served in a B-17 bomber in World War II.
 Dallas Cornett, father of local dentist Dr. Jim Cornett, was born in 1917 and eventually made it to the honors dorm at Ohio State University.
 His training was as a vocational agriculture teacher and he was hired by Watkins and New California schools. While teaching, he met Mary Elsom and they married in October 1943.
 The war was in its second year and Dallas had enlisted in the Air Force because he wanted to be a pilot. He washed out of that school and so was trained as a navigator.
 Later he learned the Air Force had plenty of pilots, but needed some bright young man to be navigators. He took great pride in his job.
 While he was being trained in the U.S., Mary could travel with him, but in July of 1944 he was sent to Italy where a fierce war was going on daily. So he said good-bye to his pregnant wife and fearlessly went to work for his country.
 He and his fellow officers, which included the pilot, copilot and bombardier (a total crew of 10) knew they had to fly 70 missions and
then they could go home. So they were ready to get started. Later you'll learn why Dallas went home before that milestone.
 He was part of the 97th Bomb Group of the 15th Air Force and daily they bombed targets, which were supplying the German war effort. They lost at least one plane from their formation under heavy fire during each run. Dallas had the task of logging the number of parachutes going down to keep track of how many men were on the ground.
 It didn't occur to him to be afraid or he just didn't have time for it as he was busy locating targets. Most bombing runs were 6-8 hours in duration and included targets like bridges, Messerschmitt plants and oil refineries. The planes usually carried 6,000 pounds of bombs on board.
If the bombing mission was aborted those had to be dumped into the water before landing.  By August of 1944, Capt. Cornett and his fellow crew were able to fly a new plane with radar. Now they could bomb through the cover of clouds and didn't need the visual citing by the bombardier.
 On Aug. 31, 1944, they led a rescue mission that brought 1,000 men out of a prison camp in Bucharest. It took 28 planes to do the job. They flew at treetop level behind the German lines landing in the parkway. The goal was to get our men out before the Russians got there.
 In late September of 1944, Dallas got a wake-up call. He was sitting on the navigator table over the target and realized he didn't have his flak helmet on. When he leaned over to get it, a live shell pierced the plane right where he had been sitting. It missed him but knocked out his oxygen. Soon he was able to put on a portable oxygen bottle.
 The pilot's oxygen line had been hit also and he was blacking out. The crew realized it and got a line of oxygen to him, but the hydraulic fluid was also severed and that looked like blood coming from the pilot.  Once they discovered the situation, that the pilot was not hit but the hydraulic line had to be fixed to land, Dallas used the first aid kit bandages and bound up the hole. It had to be a tense time, but they landed OK.
 Dallas also said mistakes were made. During one bombing run the plane next to him dropped its bombs on one of their own planes right below them. The guy responsible for that mistake had already been court-martialed for bombing the wrong bridge and then returned to duty.
 Dallas' next mission involved taking a plane full of soldiers to Rome for R and R. To make room and weight, most of the guns were stripped from the plane. That made this a very dangerous mission. Dallas said, however, the guys were all crammed in and didn't know how serious the situation was. He thought, if we live through it, great!
 He had to use a magnetic compass for navigation and his readings were all off since the compass was set to compensate for the armaments (metal) on board. He didn't realize this.
 When the plane came out of the clouds they were lost since the compass was inaccurate at that point. Fortunately the Tiber River was visible and finally led them to Rome.
 Then on Oct. 11, 1944, it happened after 256 hours of flying, 200 in combat. They were bombing a German barracks in Bologna, Italy and were like sitting ducks. Suddenly something knocked Dallas backward from his navigation seat and his oxygen mask filled with blood.
 He had been struck in the neck and jaw. At that point he thought he would die and was so surprised because he had felt invincible up to this point.
 He was flown back to a hospital in Italy and then to the U.S. The shrapnel stayed in his jaw the rest of his life. The good thing was, he
was home in time for the birth of his first son, Jim, and received the honor of a Purple Heart.
 Dallas and Mary moved to Prospect, Ohio, where they raised their three sons. He continued to teach at Waldo and Marion Pleasant schools then served as director of Four County Vocational School near Archbold for his last 10 years before retirement. He passed away in 1987.
 Many years after the war his friends still remembered he was a navigator. When they were on a trip together, the group would always ask him, "Dallas, where are we?" He usually replied, "I don't know where we are but we're making good time."
 Much of this story came from tapes made by Dallas just before his death. Thanks go to Jim for sharing the memories of his father.

Shake it up baby  (twist and shout?)
 I've talked about doing this for several years, really, ever since I met Tim and Helen Norris. Thanks to them I am now a semi-experienced lemonade shakeup gal.
 Tim and Helen (former Union County residents) are both young retirees. Four years ago, along with their daughter Maggie Norris Lombardi (FHS class of '87), they entered the world of lemonade shakeups.
 They named their business Maggie's Fresh Squeezed Lemonade and signed up to have a booth at the Ohio State fair. Tim knew all the ins and outs to this deal since he was the concessions manager for seven years at the fair working under then fair manager Jack Foust, who lives in the Marysville area.
 They've had good and bad years financially since their profit depends on the weather and people coming to the fair. This year was so-so for them. Remember, there were numerous 95-degree days.
 This family operation is only at work about 16 days a year, but many food vendors travel all over the country most of the year. It's a good business, but you must be a plumber, electrician and construction guru. It takes all day to set up the booth and all night to tear it down when the fair is over. The Ohio State Fair lasted 12 days this year.
 All the supplies they need to operate are delivered to them daily by the purveyors who work at the fair. They bring lemons, ice, sugar and cups. Two years ago the Norris family added a second venue, Sundae in a Cone, along with frozen bananas.
 My experience began last Friday morning when I arrived at 9 a.m. That gave me some time for training, since most concessions open about 10 a.m. Helen was busy slicing lemons and squeezing the juice into cups in preparation for a busy day. Tim gave me an apron and showed me the ropes.
 First, I had to learn there were three sizes that could be purchased and a very important recipe to follow. Tim believes the lemons and juice need to have one scoop (about two tablespoons) of sugar in a small glass and two scoops (four tablespoons) in a large one plus ice and water.
 But the thought of putting that much sugar in a drink is disturbing to me. He caught me skimping on the sugar and quickly explained that the recipe is the recipe and it tastes best when followed correctly. I was only the daytime help, so I complied and loaded those lemon shakeups with sugar. When I tasted it, I realized he was certainly right. They were very good and his customers agreed.
 At their lemonade stand, they also offer sugar-free shakeups with artificial sweetener which is tasty, too. I believe they were the only stand to offer that at the state fair this year.
 Once Tim had me straightened out I was taught the art of shaking the mixing cup with a paper one that the drink is served in. All the sugar has to be dissolved when you are done shaking - Tim checked me on that, too.
 Also, I learned quickly that if you don't get the paper cup on the plastic shaking cup properly, it squirts out the side all over you and its sticky! I know that now from personal experience. It's an art to be mastered and during my five hours with the Norris family I improved my technique slightly.
 Maggie's lemonade has been featured yearly on the Food Network. The program is called Red White and Chew and was filmed at the fair in 2004. Tim and Helen were doing their bell ringing and chatter to bring in customers and that must be what attracted the film crew. Different segments of the filming have been shown each year about this time.
 Tim, Helen and Maggie are called "40 milers" in the business. That means they are locals and just stay in the central Ohio area. Many of the vendors at the fair come from all over the country.  I enjoy the state fair and remember it as always an important part of our summer as I was growing up. It's a little smaller now, only 12 days, instead of 17, and it could really use the influence of the late Gov. Jim Rhodes who promoted it to the hilt. Now, there are many air conditioned buildings and I was pleased to see how clean it was everywhere.
 Maggie's lemonade will now take on Marysville at the All Ohio Balloon Fest tonight and Saturday night at the Union County Airport. Look for them and all the other vendors bringing great refreshments this weekend. See you there.  Oh, by the way, I won't be needed in their lemonade operation this weekend. That's probably best for everyone!

Soccer team goes south
Nineteen teenagers, members of the Elite FC soccer club in Marysville, were invited recently to visit Costa Rica in Central America known for its tourism. Fourteen parents accompanied the team. Fred and Jane Johnson were part of the entourage along with their sons Ben, 18, and Alex, 15. Fred said the price was right, the country was beautiful and it was nine days well spent with the family. The kids went
to play soccer and were matched up against four high skill level teams made up of Costa Rican teens. The sport is so popular there that there are hundreds of teams formed.
 The group spent its first few days in San Jose - the capital - and went on to Jaco Beach and then to the Tilajara resort in the mountains near
San Carlos. This resort even had a soccer field. Flowers bloom prolifically all year long in Costa Rica and the lush beauty in the mountains was something that the Johnsons won't forget.
 The temperature never varies more than 10 degrees from 75-85 all year long, but this is winter for them and that means a hard rain every day
for about one hour. Twenty-pound iguanas roamed freely, many the size of a small dog. Sometimes they even climbed high into the trees looking for fruit. Howler monkeys, much smaller animals, loudly grunt their deep noise from the trees, too. Fred noticed homes indicating poverty, just tin shacks, located next door to large million dollar homes, and thus zoning seems unimportant to the Costa Ricans. All homes, no matter how tiny, have electricity, and the water flowing
down from the mountains keeps the sewage system moving. Costa Rica has a higher literacy rate than the U.S. and apparently a good socialized medicine system.
 One young soccer player had a chance to test that while on this trip. As the team and parents were traveling through the countryside on their tour bus they stopped to seek help for a possible eye infection in one of the students. The place they stopped was a small town. It was early in the morning and he was taken right in at the health clinic. There he saw a nurse practitioner and was given two prescriptions for
his eye and $40 later was on his way. The clinic was reportedly clean, modern and the staff friendly.
The food was unexpectedly bland according to Fred Johnson. They had tamales and other Tex Mex type foods, but they were prepared with fewer spices than we're used to here. Fruit grows everywhere in this beautiful country and is a staple of their diet.
The boys were able to try their skill at a zip line, but first the whole party had to travel up the mountaintop in a pickup truck on very bumpy
roads with no pavement. Mud slides were also frequent on the roads. The zip line adventure began 1,500 feet up and involved hanging from a harness, which was suspended from a hopefully very strong wire. One hand is gloved and used to reach up and stop the downward movement and modifies speed. Sometimes the kids traveled at speeds of 50 miles per hour and then stopped at several platforms on the way down. This activity seems like it would be for the young and very strong!
 After each soccer game, the American players were able to hand out tee shirts as gifts, which had the silhouette of Ohio imprinted on them.
They were funded by local MHS soccer coach Marc Kirsch and his wife, Glenda. The team also visited a large children's home day school and brought candy from Nestles and school supplies courtesy of donations from the Scotts Co. and Westreco Credit Union. So, several companies from our town were also part of this goodwill trip.
 The Costa Ricans speak Spanish and some English, but the team had a bilingual guide with them all the time. The Johnson family reported this to be the perfect trip for them - one their teenagers can appreciate and the last family venture before Ben leaves for Wittenberg University in the fall.
The balloons are coming
Much hard work and planning has gone in to prepare for the All Ohio Balloon Fest which will take place next weekend Aug. 17 and 18.
The entertainment will begin at 6 p.m. and will end at 10 p.m. On Friday night the band is Able Five from Cincinnati and on Saturday night a
local favorite the Danger Brothers will be appearing. The balloons will ascend in the evening depending on weather conditions.
There will also be an event I enjoyed very much last year called the balloon glow. Balloons are tethered to the ground and in the darkness
you can see the light illuminating them from the burner. It is accompanied by music.
There will be good food. The gates open at 5 p.m. and everything you would want for dinner will be available. Kevin Mabry will provide iced
tea and Tim and Helen Norris will bring their Maggie's lemonade stand. For the main course we have Barry's Perch with fish sandwiches,
hamburgers, brats, cheese sticks and more plus Rick's grill owned by Rick Crago will have his delicious pulled pork. Karen's Event Center is
providing a potato bar with all the toppings for a yummy side dish or main course.
Now for the dessert end of this deal, SweetTooth Confections owned by Glen Smith who lives in Mill Valley will have chocolate covered
cheesecake on a stick. Sweet Fillings on Wheels will be bringing ice cream, chocolate covered bananas, apple and peach dumplings and
smoothies, and Glenna and Kent Rausch, former owners of Goodies Galore, will have kettle corn. The Fritzers from Russells Point provide the ever popular funnel cakes. Twenty-one balloons including the purple people eater will make this event really special. I hope to see you there next Friday and Saturday.

A young soldier's story
 He was just 18 years old when he entered the Army to fight in WWII. In the end, he came home with a purple heart.  Harold Hill grew up on the property that is now Blues Creek golf course located on Rt. 4 north of Marysville, and graduated from Magnetic Springs high school in 1943. That was in May and by December he was off to Army basic training. Many local people were in this same group of
draftees, including the late Bill Otte who was 38 years old at the time.
 Harold was placed in an infantry division and soon headed for the war zone, with his ship landing in Liverpool, England. On the way across the Atlantic, other ships in his convoy repeatedly dropped depth charges on submarines they suspected were beneath them.
 During the war, all road signs and signs designating towns in England were removed so the enemy could not find their way around and there were no lights of any kind allowed at night, not even a match.
 His group was then transported to Wales in western England and issued impregnated clothing. That consisted of fatigues coated with a substance to block toxic gas. They were also issued gas masks, which they wore when they later departed their LSTs and walked out on Utah Beach in Northern France.
 It was about three weeks after the initial landing on the beaches of Normandy and fighting continued although the Allies had the upper hand at that point. Immediately upon landing, the soldiers dug in to small foxholes. The Germans spotted them pretty quickly and fired their 88s, (artillery) which can fire both vertically and horizontally. Harold watched the shells fall around him. Thankfully none hit him but the sound permanently damaged his hearing in one ear. He also noticed many duds that didn't explode because he believes they were improperly produced.
 For all the time Harold was in the field he never had a tent. He slept in slit trenches dug the length and depth of his body and unfortunately 1944 was a very wet year. Many days he awoke lying in water and wore the same clothes for 105 days. At that point they were issued a clean set.
He had only two baths during his five months in Europe - both in a creek.  The only way the soldiers could have a roof over their head was to be part of the first group who entered the French towns that they were liberating from the Germans. His unit was involved in liberating as many as 50 towns in Northern France. His most vivid memory about entering a German occupied home was that the Germans had left so recently that the fried chicken on the plate - which they ate - was still warm.
 The allied soldiers continued to move toward Germany liberating towns. Then it happened. While on the offensive, the Germans got the upper hand and eventually captured all but three in his unit. Harold and two others took off running and thus escaped German capture. The bulk of his fellow soldiers, about 300, were taken to Dresden, Germany. His brother-in-law, Chet Baker, was among them.
 Some months later, Harold was injured. It was about 5 a.m., and while marching he felt something hot and looked at his knee. It was covered in blood. He had been hit with shrapnel, about an inch long, from a distant explosion and when he couldn't walk he was taken to an aid station.
 There were so many injured soldiers the place was unbelievably busy. Because so many were hurt much more severely than Harold, the doctor asked him if he could give himself a morphine injection. When he agreed, he was then assigned to take care of himself. He was eventually flown to a Paris hospital and then back to England. This was a terribly painful trip because the shrapnel was still in his leg.
 Harold's leg was shattered but saved and he is grateful. He also had to deal with an embolism and return to the U.S. on crutches. After being transferred to several different convalescent hospitals, 20-year-old Harold Hill returned to Union County in 1945. What a way to grow up!
 When he was able to work, he entered the world of Clymer Concrete. Then he started his own company with a partner and named it Ready Mix which was eventually sold to Anderson Concrete which Harold continued to manage for many years.
 In 1945 he met his future wife, Leila "Dutchie" Rausch (MHS class of '42). They married in 1947 and are about to have their 60th wedding anniversary.
 Until the 1980s, Harold was unable to talk about his military experiences. But attending the first reunion of his 90th infantry division changed all that. It must have been the sharing of memories that got him going. Now he enjoys telling the story of WW II from his
eyes. He and Dutchie have attended more than a dozen reunions in the U.S. and one at Normandy in 1984.
 This was a surprise to me - the Germans came too. I don't know how this started, but part of the German division that captured most of Harold's regiment are now their friends.
 Dutchie speaks very good German and is quite a help on the trips, but the Germans also speak English.
 His reunion group visited many of the towns in France that they had liberated and welcome signs were everywhere thanking them for saving their country from the Germans. In some of those towns, the Hills were even able to stay in French homes.
 Through these reunion weekends, the Hills have met a favorite German named Alexander Uhlig who has come to many U.S. reunions and is a preferred dancing partner of Dutchie. He was a sergeant and part of the German unit that captured a large part of Harold's regiment. He later made a career in the German military. Oh how their world has changed.
 Now the Hills look forward to next week's 90th infantry reunion in Pittsburgh. The number of attendees has dropped over the years from
1,000 to the present number of 100 - those who are left to tell the story!
 Thanks to Dr. Jim Cornett for his additional research information on Harold.

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