@ - A History

@ Have you ever thought about the @ that's so much a part of our communication nowadays? 

The @ has been "inducted into the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art, which cited its modern use as an example of “elegance, economy, intellectual transparency, and a sense of the possible future directions that are embedded in the arts of our time.” Wow! All that for a symbol that's called the snail by Italians and monkey tail by the Dutch. The September 2012 Smithsonian magazine had an interesting history of this symbol. 

There are different theories about the symbol's origin. In 1536 a Florentine merchant, Francesco Lapi, used @ to denote units of wine shipped in large clay jars. This was the first documented use of the symbol. 

In 1971 computer scientist Ray Tomlinson was trying to figure out how to "connect people who programmed computers with one another. At that time, each programmer was typically connected to a particular mainframe machine via a phone connection and a teletype machine - basically a keyboard with a built-in printer. But these computers weren't connected to one another." Tomlinson worked for BNN Technologies which was hired by the US government to develop Arpanet, "a forerunner of the Internet."

Tomlinson had to determine how to "address a message created by one person and sent through Arpanet to someone at a different computer. The address needed an individual's name... as well as the name of the computer..." There needed to be a symbol separating the two parts of the address. The symbol had to be one that wasn't already widely used in programs and operating systems. Looking at his Model 33 teletype, Tomlinson noticed the @. He sent himself an email from one teletype addressed to another teletype in the same room. It worked - the rest is history. 

Tomlinson still works for that company, BNN Technologies. He doesn't remember the contents of that first email. 

More here

Ray Pepper - Part 2 of 3

Ray Pepper & Mary Elizabeth (Betty & Maude) Neely Todd Pepper

May 1978

Now The Adventure with Ray Pepper Begins

I had my first adventure with Ray when I was in the 9^th grade and my first year to live with my Mother since the divorce. Ray came to visit my Mother and I think to ask her to marry him. I met him in downtown Ft. Wayne at a hotel. We hit it off great. We bought a tabletop football game and we played it in his hotel room while waiting for my Mother to get off work as manager of Arthur Murray’s Dance Studio. I later found out Ray Pepper had very little interest in football, but I could never have known it from that afternoon. While we were on our way to his hotel room I mentioned something about that I was a fairly quiet person and never knew what to talk about unless it was some specific topic or issue. He said he was the same way and was just not good at small talk. As we were crossing the street he told me one way he tried to handle those situations was to think of a list of topics before he met with someone so that he was somewhat prepared with a list of topics in case he needed it.  I found out later that he proposed marriage to my Mother, but she turned him down during the same visit. She also told him he had to finish college and get a degree before she would even consider it – Ray was then 36 and perhaps she figured it was a safe way to put him off. Years later she told that she felt that if he did it, he was not only serious about getting an education, but also about her and his commitments. Later, she also encouraged him to get a Masters degree and he did it.

Then in 1951 the summer after my junior year at Ft. Wayne North High School, Ray wrote a letter to my Mother that he had completed his teaching degree and had a job at Westville High School in Champaign County, Ohio. With great timing he followed it up with a phone call proposing marriage based on the completion of her “assignment” to him to finish college. She stewed around, consulted her Mother who strongly urged her to marry Ray (her Mother, Mamaw had met Ray a few years earlier and felt my Mother needed a stable influence). My Mother even asked me my opinion and I said “Do It!”  - They got married in Ft. Wayne in August of 1951. My Mother being Episcopalian wanted to get married in an Episcopal church, but was refused, as she had been divorced. They “searched” around for a church and were married in a Baptist church. The marriage was later blessed in the Urbana, OH Episcopal church.

JOE TODD’S ADVENTURES WITH RAY PEPPER CONTINUE -

After Ray and my Mother married they moved to 310 Scioto St., Urbana, OH. I came along to see if I liked Urbana; otherwise, I would go to Auburn, IN to live with my Father (Joseph Robertson Todd) and his wife Beulah Heineger Todd (married 7/31/1950 in Georgia). Actually. I was really not interested in living with my Dad, as I really just wanted to be able to continue on as Cal Richard’s assistant selling Rexair Rainbow vacuum cleaners. But my Father lived in Auburn, IN about 30 miles North of Ft. Wayne where he worked for the Ft. Wayne Service Engraving Co; He was one of their leading advertising account executives. Back then, service engraving companies were the major advertising agencies.  I wanted him to let me stay in Ft. Wayne, go to the 12th grade at Ft. Wayne North and sell vacuum cleaners and just check in with him. I could not see why he wouldn’t approve of this arrangement since I had lived almost that way in a room in a private home during the 8th grade in Austin, MN and then with my Mother’s work schedule was like independent living for myself. But he would not go for it. On a recent visit to Auburn Beulah had asked me some of the places my Dad hid his booze; I showed her some of the places and sure enough there it was; I decided I didn’t need any more of that.  So while I was not really wild to live in a family situation in Urbana, that seemed the better choice – I liked Ray Pepper so I though the family situation would be doable. 

At any rate Ray and my Mother were moving to Urbana, OH and I was along for the ride and would probably go back to Indiana to live on my own. Ray owned a used 1946 Oldsmobile of some sort. He parked it out front while he shared a ride to work his summer job in a Springfield manufacturing plant as a quality control person. I got it in my mind that I would take a cruise around town to see what was up. I did not have a driver’s license. Actually, the only times I had ever driven a car were a couple of times a year or so earlier with my Dad. When I told my Mother, she just sort of looked at me and asked if I thought that was a good idea? I said yes I thought it was and walked out the door. (I believe that she was very fearful that I would go back to Indiana that evening if she took a more firm stand) I drove around Urbana for a few minutes and headed out Rt. 36 (I had no idea where I was going); drove through Mutual and into Mechanicsburg = two small villages – really didn’t see any girls to impress so I drove back to Urbana. I did all this without ever looking at the gas gauge (Good thing I didn’t run out of gas) and without a map (I didn’t subscribe to the use of maps for several years as will come out in another adventure). When I returned my Mother asked me if I parked the car in the exact same place. It was close but not the same, since someone else was partially in the original parking place on the street. She indicated I should tell Ray. The next day I did tell him. I was prepared for the normal reaction of lighting and thunder from most people and being sent back to Indiana – but that is not what happened.  He indicated he had been wondering how come the car had been moved. He asked me very slowly but calmly several serious questions regarding the consequences of my actions; what would have happened if the police had stopped me? What would have happened if I had had an accident like someone else running into me? What would have happened if I had run out of gas? He said that my driving around was not a very good idea as I would have been in big trouble if the police had stopped me without a driver license or if someone else had run into me. He indicated that if I chose to stay in Urbana “we would have to go get a learner’s permit” to start off my driving career and he would help me. He was very pleasant and let the matter drop. In a few days I decided to spend the school year in Urbana and Ray and I went up to school to enroll and later to get a learner’s permit. I noticed he took the car keys with him after that. The car really had nothing to do with my staying in Urbana – it was because Ray did not explode, but was rather off hand. He focused on the consequences of my actions by asking me the questions and then listening to me; he made a few comments also. He was direct, and nice to me while still saying how things were. He suggested a positive step forward to my driving by getting a learner’s permit instead of blowing his lid. I never took his car without permission again.

After I got my learner’s permit we went over the weekend to visit Mamaw and Trapper in New Middletown, IN (their temporary retirement home before he decided to move back to Indianapolis and back into practice). New Middletown was off in the boondocks of Southern IN. In the evening, Ray stayed with Trapper playing cards (Ray also didn’t take to playing cards). My Mother (who never learned how to drive) and Grandmother Mamaw (Elizabeth Gilmore Neely who did have a license and drove all over the place) and I went to the Harrison County fair at night. I was allowed to drive back home. It was dark and the roads were very narrow (about a lane and a half) and winding. The road was blacktopped around a telephone pole which protruded out into the road. There had been an oncoming car which I move over for and proceeded to graze the phone pole. My Mother was upset, My Grandmother gave me a worried look. When we got back I told Ray. He went out to look. The chrome strip had had a scratch on it and was loose. I don’t recall what he said – he just sort of looked at it.

I graduated in June of 1952 and received a scholarship from Dayton Power & Light which allowed me to work on the line crew for the summer and earn money to pay for my college tuition. I chose to go to the University of Dayton; I became involved in the civil rights movement and the Adlai Stevenson presidential campaign. My grades were rather mediocre. After the first semester I ran out of money and went to work for Automatic Electric Company installing telephone switching equipment at the Urbana phone company and earned enough money to enroll at Ohio State for Spring quarter of 1953.

  

During summer quarter of 1953 Ray, and I were driving home to Urbana from Ohio State University. Ray had started working on his MA.  He had driven over and I was driving home. I got very mad at some comment he made about my driving; when we got to West Jefferson I suddenly stopped the car got out. I went into a restaurant and watched Ray cruise up and down looking for me. He went on, and I hitchhiked home. I had good luck making good time back to Urbana. I walked into the living room and Ray was reading the paper; he looked up and said “I wondered where you went to - tried to look for you.” Maude was not home yet; nothing more was ever said. I knew I had done a dumb thing. I tended to be a bit impulsive sometimes back then, but I believe that the way he handled that incident helped me learn how to think things over for a few moments in terms of consequences – the way he did.

At the end of the summer quarter in 1953 my grade in English was rather poor. I had refused to do what I thought was a ridiculous assignment which consisted of doing 15 examples of library research in a number of different categories using different approaches. I told the teacher I had learned that stuff years before from my Grandfather at Indiana University and that I would do 5 examples in each of the categories but not all 15. I turned my work in and she held up my grade. I became discouraged and noted that my name was coming up in the Champaign County (Urbana) draft board and that they had stopped giving out deferments. The Korean War was still going strong and Champaign County was running out of eligible draftees. I chose the 4 years in the Navy (which ended up being 5 after I was brought into the U.S. Naval Security Group). Ray did not think that was such a hot idea but he supported me. The morning of the day he drove me to the Springfield post office to be sworn in – he wished me luck. He also had lent me his car the night before for a date.

After boot camp (October 1953) and yeoman school while I was home getting ready to go to my first assignment at the Torpedo School in Newport RI as a yeoman - I got car fever ( about March 1954. I wanted a Hudson Hornet which had a huge bore six cylinder, long stroke, high torque, and engine with a racing image.) The car salesman in Urbana had one but would not sell it to me as he said it was not in decent shape. So Ray and I went to Columbus. While he was talking with the salesman, I was checking the car out. I looked under the dash and saw a sticker that said “Kerchivel Wrecking Company, Detroit MI.” I wanted that car so bad, I never said a thing. Bought it without driving it. Several days later, had a flat tire in the alley as I was leaving for Newport - Ray had me drive his car to Newport RI.  We exchanged cars some two months later in Gettysburg.  In my mind my Hudson was the Hornet model, but in reality it had a smaller engine and was a Pacemaker model. It took me until I was in my 60s many years later while Ray was in the Champaign Nursing Home (early 1990’s) to tell him this story about the shopping experience - he laughed a great deal - he understood.

While at the Torpedo School in Newport, R.I. I was offered a chance to go to Officer Candidate School – I turned it down as I did not want a career in the Navy.  For some interesting reason, I was later approached and asked if I would be interested in joining the U.S. Naval Security Group. I received very little information about it other than it had to do with the country’s security and cryptography. It interested me.  I decided to do it then found out my service was extended from a four year enlistment to five years. It ended up being a most interesting eye opening assignment and one that became a factor in my changing my career choice from becoming a lawyer or staying on as a civilian in the NSG to becoming a psychologist working with kids with disabilities. But that is another  story.

When I got out of the Navy in 1958. I commuted from Urbana to Ohio State along with several other people for two years. Ray lent me his car once or twice a week when it was my turn to drive. When I got married to Jane Springsteen in March of 1961 I bought his old car which allowed him to get his first brand new car. Jane and I took the car on our honeymoon. One evening we drove over to Windsor, Ontario, Canada. We came out of a restaurant and there were police looking over the car. They were concerned about the small dent in the right front fender. They thought that it was from an accident in Canada that I had not reported.  Actually, the dent was from several years earlier in one of my escapades. I tried to explain this to the police pointing out the rust marks. They slowly accepted my explanation but required us to immediately drive back across the bridge to Detroit. Such was a honeymoon adventure.

More to come -  

Small Acts

"…  but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass"   Alma 37: 6

A smile, a note, a phone call, a text, a prayer - it doesn't take something big to make a big difference in someone's day - and perhaps someone's life. 

Noticing the small things around us can give us a boost and remind us of the beauty that's in this world and the people who inhabit it - a beautiful flower, an act of kindness quietly done by someone we see, a smile in passing, ...

Other posts on the importance of small acts are here and here.

Pink Flamingos - History & Family Connections

In posts here and here we mentioned Joe's love of things others might consider "tacky." This includes pink flamingos. Joe never professed a fondness for them the way he did for gazing balls. Some people in our family assumed that since he liked gazing balls he must also like pink flamingos. 

Mom and Dad gave him his first pink flamingos - the real deal - plastic pink flamingos on wire legs for his birthday one year. Joe received additional pink flamingo related gifts over the years, including a set of tiny flamingo decorations for our year round Christmas tree. 

We put the big pink, plastic birds in the West North Street back yard periodically. I don't think they ever made it to the front yard. They ended up in our garage and were taken by someone when we filled up the garage with items people could take before we moved. Wonder if those flamingos ended up in someone's yard or as a white elephant gift? 

Another family connection - Mom and Dad's yard on North Oak Street was flocked or flamingoed. A whole bunch of pink flamingos appeared in their yard one morning. It was a fundraising event connected with Jack Starr's church - quite a sight. 

The Smithsonian magazine, September 2012, had an article, "Pretty in Pink" about this unique lawn ornament. They originated in 1957 in Leominster, Massachusetts when the plastics company Union Products asked sculptor Don Featherstone to sculpt a pink flamingo. The then "revolutionary injection-mold technology" was used to turn out the plastic bird that could bring a piece of "tropical elegance" to a house that otherwise looked like every other house in endless look alike houses in subdivisions. The birds went from being considered pretty to tacky to a joke. Check out the Smithsonian article for more on the journey. 

Don Featherstone and his wife Nancy still live in Leominster, Massachusetts with a flock of 57 plastic flamingos in their yard (to commemorate the bird's 1957 birth). 

In this video Don Featherstone talks about the origin of plastic pink flamingos and their ongoing manufacturing. The box at the end looks just like the box we had in our garage. Wonder if we had "signed" Don Featherstone flamingos?

video

Effort

... it requires a constant effort on the part of each and every one of us to make a success of our lives. It requires no effort at all to roll down the hill, but it does require an effort to climb the hill to the summit. It needs no effort to walk in the broad way that leads to destruction; but it needs an effort to keep in the straight and narrow path that leads to life eternal.

Heber J. Grant

Come, Follow Me

“Come,” He says lovingly. “Come, follow me.” Wherever you are going, first come and see what I do, see where and how I spend my time. Learn of me, walk with me, talk with me, believe. Listen to me pray. In turn you will find answers to your own prayers. God will bring rest to your souls. Come, follow me." 

Jeffrey R. Holland

Story of a Purse

Over the years we accumulated a box of dressup clothes for our grandchildren. I gave the bin to Jan and Tim when we moved across country. August 2012 back in Ohio the children were having fun with the clothes, purses, hats, belts, ties, scarves, and gloves. One of the girls came up with this fun getup. The purse brought back memories. 

On the left I'm carrying the handbag at my sister's wedding in May 1973. Back in the late 60s or early 70s I was asked to attend a "purse party." I don't remember who hosted the party where I purchased this purse. 

It's amazing the purse is still around after 40 years. 

Ray Pepper - Part 1 of 3

Ray Pepper - December 1978

Ray Pepper & Joe Todd

Ray: My Friend, Step Father, Father and Hero

Ray Pepper - was my friend and had a very positive supportive influence upon me. I first met him in the 9th grade before my Mother married him and then again just before my senior year of high school when my Mother married him. I then had the opportunity to be a support to him after my Mother died and he eventually had a stroke and needed to be in a nursing home for the rest of his earthly life. I always felt Ray’s love and support – even when I did dumb and careless stuff. He never seemed to get really upset with me. On occasion he would say. “You know Skip (what my Mom called me) sometimes you are really full of it.” Or, with a smile or half smile on his face, “You are really full of sh*t” – but he never said it in a nasty way or tone – actually he said it in almost a humorous way – Anyway, I got his point and I always knew he was in my corner. Sometimes even to this day I can hear him say it to me – and it makes me smile. Actually the way he spoke to me was very similar to how Trapper (my Grandfather Neely) talked to me – and I always knew he loved me.

Let me tell you a little about who Ray Pepper was and how his experiences lent themselves toward his understanding of me.

His Father William Ortman Pepper was born 10/1885 in Sidney, Shelby County Ohio and died in about 1932 in California at age 48. Ray’s Mother was Florence Alma Norcross Pepper and was born about 1886. She was apparently unstable.  His Mother died about 1950 in Anna, Shelby County, OH age 64. Ray never spoke of his Mother only his Father.

Ray Emerson Pepper was born 6/19/1915 in Cleveland, Cuyahoga County OH. Ray lived in Cleveland until about age 10 when his parents were divorced. He then lived with his grand or great grand Mother Roe in Lima for a while (year or two) Mr. Roe was a picture on the wall; Ray never met him. Ray then left for California with his Father who was an accountant.

He lived with his Father in California until his Dad’s death in 1932. They lived in a room and mostly ate out. In fact they were eating in a restaurant when his Dad dropped over on the table dead from a stroke. At age 17 he got on a bus back to Ohio.  He then lived one year with Charles Pepper (William’s brother) for his junior year of high school but they didn’t get along at all. Ray then lived with the Ales (a teacher) family who befriended him for his senior year. The Ailes family, Mother, Father, and children were life long friends of Ray’s.

Ray died 9/20/1996 Urbana, Champaign County, OH at age 81

Education: Attended Sinclair College, Dayton,; B.A; Wittenburg University Springfield, OH B.A.; Ohio State University OH M.A.

Occupation: Before WW II Ray worked for the Civilian Conservation Corps back in California, random factory jobs in Ohio, sold peanuts in Florida, and then enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corp 3/19/1942 while living back in Shelby, OH.  While in the Army Airforce as a part of a ground crew, he was stationed in Belgium. He received some sort of award from the Belgium government. When discharged he went back to factory jobs and a try at being a door to door salesman for Real Silk wearing apparel. Somehow I can’t imagine Ray selling door to door out of a catalogue and suitcase - keep in mind that door-to-door sales were rather common in those days.  He ended up going to college and became a teacher. Beginning in 1952 he became a teacher at Westville High School, OH and later a history teacher in Springfield, OH South high school. Later at the very end of his career he was a social worker in Dayton, OH.

How Ray Pepper met my Mother

He decided to increase his social life by taking dance lessons in Dayton, OH which is interesting since he was rather awkward on his feet. He rode a motor scooter to an Arthur Murray Dance Studio and bought some dance lessons. My Mother sold him the lessons and was his dance teacher; Ray wanted to date her; she told him he needed to go to college; eventually he began attending Sinclair College in Dayton and then graduated from Wittenberg University in Springfield, OH. She did go out with him on dates which is very interesting since from all outward appearances Ray did not meet her criteria of class and society - neither did her Father (my grandfather Trapper – Dr. Neely). When they went out on dates he would hide his motor scooter in the alley so she wouldn’t know how he had arrived. They would visit places around downtown Dayton so they could walk. Ray used to joke that dating my Mother was rather expensive since he had to buy all those dance lessons.  In the end, I believe Ray’s appeal to my Mother was that he was genuinely “real” and not a “put on” sort of fellow. 

A little bit about my background up until the time I met Ray Pepper

I was born April 24, 1934 and lived in Indianapolis, IN until I was 6. We moved to Grosse Pointe, MI where I went to the first grade. We lived in Grosse Pointe until completion of the 5th grade. Then one evening my Mother took me aside and insisted that I sit on her lap and told me she and my Dad were not getting along so well – I could see that clearly for myself. My Uncle Jack Neely (John Irving Neely 2/10/19147 - June 1963) came up to drive me down to see my grandparents in Indianapolis – Mamaw and Trapper (Elizabeth Gilmore Neely and Dr. Alonzo Solon Neely).  I had told my friends that I would be back in a few weeks. On the way down to Indianapolis Uncle Jack said to me “You know you are not coming back to Grosse Pointe – your parents are getting a divorce.” I cried for a long time. I was then told that I was going to Indiana University School in Bloomington, IN with my other Grandparents – Far and Lala (Dr. Joseph Clinton Todd, DD & PhD and Emily Robertson Todd, MA and I think PhD). That didn’t work out. I found out later when I was about 70 years old and going through some old letters to my Mother that she had refused to give them custody of me. They wanted full custody including full fiscal responsibility for me; my Father could not take me as he was having a drinking problem and was without a job at that time and my Mother although very well educated was having to start at the bottom rung of the female work force in 1945. Her first job was with some detective agency buying tickets to movie theaters around town to see if they tore the tickets up when collecting them and not keeping them whole to resell; I went with her a couple of times that summer.  She later worked her way into very responsible management jobs starting as a receptionist for Arthur Murray’s Dance Studios, then teacher, sales person, assistant manager and then manager,  and then she went on with various stores to become a widely known interior decorator, including an Ohio senator and senator. People used to fly her with them on their private planes to furniture markets around the country. But this was at the beginning in 1945. At the end of the summer I was dropped off with 3 days’ notice at Howe Military School, Howe IN. I ran away 5 times before I figured how to fade into the woodwork. At the end of the 2nd year my Mother came to get me via ShortWay Line Bus and I announced that – “no one had control or authority over me unless I gave it to them or they physically tied me up and forced me to do something” – I was not coming back to Howe. Interesting as the word got out that day, by the afternoon my name was crossed off for the “Most Improved Cadet” award. I went to live with my Father in a room in a house in Austin, MN for the 8th grade. We lived a block away from my Uncle Bill (William Dean Todd my Father’s brother) but only recall seeing him once at the beginning of the school year; I did see his kids once in a while at school. At the end of the year, my Father told me as I got on the train to go to Mamaw and Trapper’s house that I would not becoming back because he was having to sell his interest in a printing company in Austin and was leaving town. I then lived with my Mother in three different locations in Ft. Wayne, IN for the 9,10, and 11th grades. She worked very late hours first as manager of an Arthur Murray’s Dance Studio and then as she became a very successful interior decorator at a department store. She was very busy so I saw her only once in awhile.

After the 5th grade and being shipped off to Howe Military School on three days’ notice and then living with very little supervision I had become very independent minded – I had come to understand that I was in charge of me. I had after school jobs and summer jobs that provided me my own money and had very little adult supervision. By the time I was ready for the 12th grade I had long since become very independent in mind and spirit. Ray Pepper coming into my life was a God sent gift.

More to follow - 

Google In Kirkland

Google has a large, three building complex in Kirkland. Google+ Hangouts, Google Talk, and Chrome Web Store are some of the projects worked on here in Kirkland.  This recent article discusses Google and the high demand for software engineers in the Seattle area. 

Google moved to this location in October 2009. Click here to read about the opening.     

image

Awareness - Tipping the Balance

“She may have had a whole lovely garden spread out at her feet, but in her heart, she still thought of herself as a weed - unlovely, uncultivated, unwelcome even in her own backyard. 

Everything in the world has its two faces, however. Weeds sometimes blossom into artful flowers. Beauty walks hand in hand with ugliness, sickness with health, and life tiptoes around in the horned shadow of death. The trick is to recognize which is which and to recognize what you’re dealing with at the time. At any given moment, you can tip the balance just a little, one way or the other, if you’re paying attention, ...”       Tiffany Baker*

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Isn't it sad when you meet someone who sees herself as a "weed" and doesn't see or feel like the lovely person you see before you? How wonderful it is when you can help that person recognize the beauty that you see. 

Tiffany Baker talks about "two faces" and the importance of realizing which "face" you're dealing with - and the potential to "tip" the balance - if we're paying attention. 

Paying attention is the key. Most people are very busy nowadays. More often than not we walk past people, strangers as well as family and friends, without paying enough attention to recognize what's going on in their lives and hearts. A smile, a hug, a listening ear, a helping hand might make a huge difference to someone - might tip the balance from the negative to the positive. 

The concept of tipping the balance is a scary one. We underestimate the stewardship (and power) we have to affect someone else's life for good. 

This brings to mind the story of the man at the pool of Bethesda. People who needed healing gathered at the pool of Bethesda. The belief was that whomever was first in the water after it was stirred up (troubled) by an angel would be healed. Someone had taken an invalid to the pool. Christ found him there and could tell he'd been beside the pool a long time. The man explained he couldn't be healed because someone always got into the water before he could. 

"...  but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me." John 5:7

"Another steppeth down before me" really hit me not long ago when I was studying the scriptures. How many times have I "stepped" in front of someone, focused on my own needs and own errands and oblivious to the needs of those around me? 

Christ was paying attention. He noticed the man and healed him. He tipped the balance and made all the difference in that man's life. He can make a difference in all our lives. We can make a difference for others as we follow His example. 

*The Little Giant of Aberdeen County, 

by Tiffany Baker, page 269

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More: Small Acts - Not So Small

Mercer Island

When we were exploring areas to live, Mercer Island was one of the top three on our list.  On our first excursion to the island we were looking for a place to eat and happened on The Islander. We like the view probably even better than we like the food. We like the way the light plays off the colorful buildings. We seriously considered living in the apartments in this image. This picture was taken from The Islander window when we went there recently for dinner. 

Mercer Island is in Lake Washington. Two bridges span Lake Washington from the Eastside to Seattle. One of those bridges connects Mercer Island with the Eastside and Seattle. 

More posts on Mercer Island here and here

Phases of Life - Thoughts

“Your youth evaporates in your early 40s when you look in the mirror. And then it becomes a full-time job pretending you’re not going to die, and then you accept that you’ll die. Then in your 50s everything is very thin. And then suddenly you’ve got this huge new territory inside you, which is the past, which wasn’t there before. A new source of strength. Then that may not be so gratifying to you as the 60s begin, but then I find that in your 60s, everything begins to look sort of slightly magical again. And it’s imbued with a kind of leave-taking resonance, that it’s not going to be around very long, this world, so it begins to look poignant and fascinating.”                   Martin Amis*

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Amis is commenting on the phases of our lives. I don't remember my 40s the way he does. I don't ever remember pretending I wasn't going to die although I have to admit that my own death seemed a long way off in my 40s and even 50s. 

I like this imagery - "... suddenly you've got this huge new territory inside you, which is the past, which wasn't there before. A new source of strength." This realization came to me in my late 50s and early 60s, brought on by the march of time as well as the death of my parents and the realization that I knew so little about their past and the past of grandparents and others who were on the other side. What gave them strength as they went through life's journey? Why didn't I ask them more questions? Their wisdom and counsel could have helped me on my journey. Why was I so focused on my journey that I was insensitive to their journeys?

I do feel the "hugeness of the past" and the desire to record and share stories that will help others know what gave me strength on this journey. As the unofficial family archivist, I have records and stories of many generations of family members. This includes hundreds and hundreds of photographs. So much past to preserve, so many stories to tell. I feel a stewardship for our ancestors and their stories - so future family won't forget those who came before. 

I remember when I realized I had more "past" than "future" here on earth, even if I'm fortunate enough to live to a "ripe old age," whatever that might be. These thoughts don't depress me but they do cause me to feel some urgency and do some pondering about what I do with these remaining years on earth. I suppose these feelings are part of the "leave-taking resonance" Amis mentions. 

He also uses the words magical and fascinating. One of the advantages of moving to a totally different part of the country at our stage in life is that everything is new. There's much to learn, much to fascinate us, much to do. Nature - the light, the water, the green that's everywhere, even the soft drizzly rain - adds some magic to our lives. 

Poignant, in the sense of profoundly touching, describes the feelings I have as I think about my past that has led me to this time in life. That's also how I feel when I ponder my remaining years on earth. I am thankful for the knowledge that this journey on earth leads to even more adventures and growth on the other side of the veil - and meeting up with those people whose stories I hopefully will record and share before I'm finished here. 

*"The Martin Chronicles" by Ron Rosenbaum, 

[Martin Amis interview]; Smithsonian, 

September 2012, page 40

Evening at Heritage Park

Joe stands near the entrance to Heritage Park in Kirkland. Not far from downtown Kirkland, this beautiful park has great views of Lake Washington, Kirkland, Bellevue, and Seattle. A junior high school used to be on this 10 acre site. The school's main entry arch has been preserved.  

 Heritage Park's 10 acres offer great spaces for walking, soccer, kite flying, and other activities. The homes that line the edge of the park have great views of Lake Washington. 

Seattle in the distance

Kirkland along Lake Washington. You can see Bellevue's skyscrapers in the distance. 

Click here for another post on Heritage Park

Positive Attitude

So much in life depends on our attitude. The way we choose to see things or to behave or to respond to others makes all the difference. To do the very best we can, and then to choose to be happy about our circumstances, whatever they may be, can bring peace and contentment. "Happiness is an attitude. We either make ourselves miserable, or happy and strong. The amount of work is the same" (Francesca Reigler).

Charles Swindoll — author, educator and Christian pastor — said this about attitude: "The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important … than the past, … than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home." He continued, "The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past; we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is [to change] our attitude." He concluded, "I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. … We are in charge of our attitudes."

We all know people who seem to "roll with the punches" so to speak, who are pleasant and cheerful through almost any challenge. Generally these are the people with whom we like to spend our time, for they make us feel better about circumstances and about ourselves. It seems that good things gravitate to them, for they don't let less-than-ideal circumstances stand in their way. They choose to find joy everywhere and to leave it behind them when they go.

We, too, can choose to have a positive attitude. We can't direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. In other words, we can choose to be happy and positive, regardless of what comes our way. The definition of an optimist, according to one man, is "someone who isn't sure whether life is a tragedy or a comedy but is tickled silly just to be in the play" (Robert Brault)

We know that some people are more talented than others. Some are more educated. Regardless of where we fit in the scheme of things, we all have the capacity to be great, for we are only limited by how we choose, how resolute we are — in other words, by our attitude. …

We have but one chance at this life. For maximum happiness, peace and contentment, may we choose a positive attitude. 

Thomas S. Monson, "In Quest of the Abundant Life," 

quoted in Messages of Inspiration

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