Tag Archives: #amblogging

An Everglades Adventure~Part 1

24 Sep

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill

 

After moving to Florida and becoming an avid Florida Natural Springs campers, we began to encourage our close friends to go camping with us. We told them how much fun it was and how great it was to get out and be one with Nature.   Florida has some of the most beautiful tropical State and National parks a person could ask for, and we had become determined to visit as many of them as we could.

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One day our friends, Dwayne and Jenny, expressed an interest in going camping with us. Well, that’s all we had to hear and we began planning our next trip. DiVoran had always wanted to visit the Florida Everglades, and since we had no other suggestions, that’s where we finally decided to go. In the early 70’s, the Everglades National Park was advertised as Nature at its best, with camping, hiking, canoeing, animal and bird watching and more. Well, we thought it would be a great adventure to camp at the southern tip of Florida and enjoy all those wonderful features. The part they left out of their colorful brochure was how primitive the area was.   

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As I remember, at the time, Dwayne and Jenny’s three children were about 12 months, 3 and 6 years old, and our two children were about 8 and 10 years old. We planned to use our small pop-up camper as a base camp while their family slept in a large tent that would hold all of them. We each borrowed a canoe for the trip, and we packed all our food and equipment in our camper. We had a 1960 Chevy Biscayne that I drove back and forth to work and used to pull the camper.

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Dwayne and Jenny had their tent, and all of their family provisions loaded in their car, with their canoe strapped on the top.   We had everything loaded, packed and ready for an early morning start. The best I remember it, Dwayne and I had taken Friday off, and since we were both off work the following Monday for (I think it was) Columbus Day, we were looking forward to a nice long four-day weekend to enjoy our Everglades Adventure. So, off we went the next morning as early as we could to get everyone moving.

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We headed south on I-95 looking forward to a wonderful relaxing trip.   We were breezing along at 70 mph, with great anticipation about our upcoming adventure, when just as we were approaching SR-192 in Melbourne (only about 40 miles from our starting point), the engine in our car suddenly made a loud clattering noise, and the engine quit. I had no idea what could have happened, but all I could do now was to safely get off the highway and coast to a stop to check it out.

 

                                                            —–To Be Continued—–

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Getting More Than You Give~Part 2

22 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistVolunteers from large organization help a large number of people. But not everyone is in a position to do that. That makes me wonder if a seemingly smaller contribution has less importance. When I think of Denisha, I know the answer is a simple no.

Some members of Danisha’s family are in jail. Some have been shot. There’s not a lot of money in the family. Danisha, however has a job. She works hard, even though she has gone through multiple surgeries as the result of an automobile accident. Denisha seems to be the guardian angel of a family of cousins and sisters and their children. One girl-child is under guardianship with Danisha now. She has brought others to church for many years. Several of them have invited Christ into their lives.

My little Sunday School class has a different number of these children attending almost every Sunday. I like them a lot! They remind me of the child I was, and the kids I knew in our small, plain community in Colorado long ago. Danisha says that her grandmother brought her to church and her uncle who is an elder in our church included her in family get-togethers. She had her troubles as a young adult, but she came into the love of Christ and it made all the difference.

Danisha, often brings edible treats for our Sunday School refreshment time. A few Sundays ago she missed most of the church service to go after hamburgers for the seven kids who attended our class that day. Last Sunday she headed out for pizza. Before she left, she asked the children what kind of pizza they wanted. The verdict was: one pepperoni pizza and one cheese. We were all hungry and excited.

While we waited, we had rhythm band and singing. Then Mr. Lites prayed for them. Next as I searched through my store of books for the right story I came to a Jack Prelutsky book of poetry. “Oh, I hope this is, A Pizza the Size of the Sun, I thought. It turned it was not only the book, but the poem of the same name appears on the first page. I picked it up and read with great feeling about a great pizza while the children listened rapt and salivating. Then I recalled that this was a “lesson,” so I said, “God is even better than pizza!” It might sound a bit lame, but given the fervor in the room when pizza was mentioned, I thought the idea just might seep into their little minds and lodge permanently in their brains.

A lot of learning takes place on the woodsy play ground outside, so we went out there to play on the swings and wait some more. We learn sharing, kindness, love, obedience, and maybe a bit of race relations. When we first got there we found a few frogs the size of the my thumbnail jumping around. Nature is always a part of our curriculum so we looked them over and one of the boys picked one up. Finally Danisha came with the pizza confessing that she had eaten the missing sliver as she headed back to church. We sat at picnic tables and dug in. Yum! That pizza was delicious! The kids ate and ate, we were all happy, but I suspect that the person who got the most joy out of the experience was Danisha.

Yes, there are many different kinds of volunteers, from people who do wonderful things in big organizations and help a lot of people to those who work hard, take on a guardianship, and bring the little ones to Jesus just as He commanded. All kinds of volunteerism gets passed down, all kinds of roll-models are needed.

volunteer

 

 

Psalm 68:6 New Living Translation (NLT)

“God places the lonely in families;
he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.

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My Husband…My Hero

21 Sep

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

After the birth of our second child in 1971, we moved from Loring AFB, Maine, to San Antonio, Texas, where Fred would become an instructor at the Officer Training School (OTS) at Lackland AFB. Since our marriage, we had always lived in either apartments or government quarters. We felt it was time to own our first home. So we began looking at houses not too far from Lackland.

We didn’t actually have a realtor, but kept seeing signs for “Ray Ellison Homes” all around that area, so we checked them out. There was a subdivision of new homes there – within our price range – and we found one we liked. It wasn’t terribly large, but it had three bedrooms and TWO BATHROOMS!! WOW! We snapped it up.

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The bedroom windows in this house were high and long – narrow. They were high enough that we could hang a picture above our bed (no headboard). One night in 1972, about 2:00 a.m., we both were awakened by a bright light. We got up and looked out our bedroom window – and saw flames roaring from the garage in the house next to us! It took us a few seconds to recognize what was happening, then we swung into action. I called the fire department, then ran to get the girls. I was in such a state that I forgot to bring extra diapers for Janet! The firemen told us we had to leave the house, so we went to the neighbor’s house across the street.

In the meantime, Fred ran next door to the burning house. He began ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door. I heard him yelling “FIRE” several times. He woke them up. To his amazement – they ran back into the house to get “stuff” before leaving. They told us later that, while they usually left their bedroom doors open at night, they had each closed their doors that particular night, and so didn’t know their house was on fire.

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None of the family members were injured in the fire, while the entire house was destroyed. Fred suffered some burns on his forehead from blowing embers. After rousing the house members, he grabbed our garden hose and began spraying the side of our house, trying to save it from as much damage as possible. Some of our windows shattered, but we had the blinds closed, and so the shards were contained mostly in the carpet. We had about $500 damage to our house, including the soft water tank on that side of the house. But Culligan came and replaced it with no charge to us.

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It took until after daybreak for the fire to be under control. We were amused to see that some of the neighbors came out to retrieve their newspapers and found fire trucks and hoses in the street! They hadn’t heard or seen anything during the night! Heavy sleepers, huh?

I volunteered to help do some salvage. What amazed me was in the kitchen – the door of the dishwasher was completely mangled and warped. But under the top cabinets hung a roll of paper towels, completely untouched by the fire!

Two years later, the house on the OTHER side of us caught fire in the early morning. And we learned that, after we left San Antonio, the house two doors down from THAT one burned. Seems like it skipped every other house. We’re just glad ours was one of the “skipped” ones!

But Fred is my hero – thinking of the neighbors as he did.

 

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Halloween Hat

17 Sep

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill Lites

 

I don’t remember just what year it was, but late one October when our kids were young, and we were in our early camping years, we decided to try camping in the Ft. Lauderdale area of Southeast Florida. We found a beautiful State Park situated on the Atlantic Ocean and set up our small pop-up camper with a view of swaying palm trees and the ocean.

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We played in the warm Gulf Stream water and walked the beach enjoying the beautiful, warm Florida weather. We had noticed, as we drove to the campground that there were coconut palms and coconuts everywhere. In fact, people put the coconuts out on the street for the trash men, just like we do with oranges and grapefruit here at home. We just wondered around the area picking up coconuts, opening them to drink the milk and eating the pure white meat. What a great time we had doing that. Later, as we wondered the campground, we came across this guy weaving hats out of strips of palm fronds. He had several different hat styles on display and asked me what style hat I would like to have. After I selected a style, he measured my head size (no laughing), and we watched him strip the green fronds and weave the hat before our very eyes.

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He told us that when we got home to put the hat in the freezer overnight and it would turn the hat a beautiful dark mahogany color. Well, we did that, and it did change color just as he had said it would. As it turned out, we were camping there for the Halloween celebrations, and would you believe it, we had to deal with trick-or-treaters coming around to the campsites for handouts. Bah-Hum-Bug! Later that evening we had front row seats on the beach for the Ft. Lauderdale Halloween fireworks display. What a treat that was.

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In 1967, when Titusville celebrated their 100th anniversary, the city fathers decided that as part of the city’s celebration there would be a requirement that all the men should grow a beard and wear period costumes when walking around town. All the women were required to wear period clothes and go without makeup. If a person was caught out of costume by any of the city “Enforcers” they could be fined.   I never did know anyone who was caught and fined, so I never did learn what kind of fines could or would have been imposed. Off course, most of the men didn’t mind letting their facial hair grow (there were some really unusual designs) but it was a different story for the women. Those heavy dresses they had to wear were bad enough, but they really didn’t like walking around town for everyone to see what they really looked like without their makeup on.

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As the years went by, when I worked around the house or went for a walk in the woods, my favorite hat for the occasion was what I came to call my “Halloween Hat.” I continued to wear my palm-frond hat on all our camping trips around the many Florida springs over the years, because it was waterproof and kept the sun out of my eyes and the rain off my head. As a matter of fact, I still have that hat all these many years later. How’s that for durable?

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—–The End—–

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I Never Met a Pizza I Didn’t Like

15 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Author, Poet and ArtistTo celebrate our 57th wedding anniversary, Bill and I went out for pizza. Mama Rosa’s, where we had planned go, was closed for vacation so we schlepped on down to Kelsey’s in Port St. John. We had already celebrated twice, having normally scheduled meals with family members and calling them celebrations, but this was the real thing on the real day.

Bill took me for my first pizza when I was eighteen years old. The restaurant was on Central Blvd in Albuquerque. It was also where he took me for my first lobster. Then when he decided to ask for my hand in marriage he took me there again. I liked lobster fine, and I liked the T-bone steaks at a small diner where they only cost $2.00 a plate, but the love of pizza stayed with me for the rest of my life (so far.)

We did get married and our first month in California where Bill was going to school, we spent every penny we had with barely enough to pay the rent. We didn’t even have money for food. I think we spent it on movies or something equally frivolous. Anyhow, Bill’s friend drove out from New Mexico to visit and our mothers sent care packages. They knew we’d developed a passion for pizza so between them they sent five boxes of Appian Way pizza mix and a pizza pan to bake them on. We got by.

Later when I had a job with Magic Mirror Beauty Salons and Bill worked part time cleaning airplanes our favorite pizza palace was Sir pizza. I’d stop there after a hard Saturday on my feet, get a pizza with everything (except anchovies and green peppers), stop at Thrifty Mart for a bottle of Thunderbird, and we’d spend our Saturday evening watching our tiny black and white T. V. and munching away at our pizza. We loved the cowboy shows such as, “Rawhide,” and “Wagon Train,” and it was a lovely thing to look forward as we went to work Saturday morning. “See ya later, alligator, after while, crocodile.”

We started out eating a whole small pizza between us, but now all we can manage is half, which is great because that means we can stick it in the oven for fifteen minutes the next day and enjoy it all over again.

Listen, the reason we both look kind of funny in this picture is that I asked a man who was in front of us in the paying line to take the picture and he wasn’t sure what he was doing and he took one and it didn’t flash and Bill said take another one and we were both wondering whether he was going to be able to manage it or not. You can see we weren’t overly anxious, but then again who had time to smile with all that going on. We really did enjoy ourselves and are planning many more pizza times to come. We’ll try Mama Rosa’s again on my seventy-sixth birthday which is coming up soon. Y’all come. (You see we live in the South now, so I’ve taken on Southern talk.)

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Transition to Maine~Part 6

14 Sep

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

 

 Our youngest daughter, Janet, was born in Maine – our little Maineiac.

 

It was early morning, and we had arranged for Karen to stay with a neighbor several doors down. After Fred took her there, he called the base hospital to see if he should go to work or come stay through the labor and delivery with me. (The hospital in Germany, where Karen was born, was very progressive for that time – they allowed the husbands in the delivery room. We had anticipated cajoling the delivery doctor at Loring into letting Fred be in the delivery room with Janet’s delivery, since he had already participated in one, and not passed out!) The answer he received really shocked him – Sir, your baby is already delivered! But they didn’t tell him whether it was a boy or girl – they left it up to me. But neither they nor he told me that, until after he had been there about 30 minutes. He looked at me and asked – so what do we have? So I got to inform him he had another daughter, Janet Lynn.

While Janet and I were still in the hospital (remember – back in those days the average stay for a new baby and mother was three-to-four days!), Fred came to visit every day.

The day after Janet was born, he came to visit, plopped down in the chair, grinned at me and said, “You didn’t really want to spend another winter here, did you?” I nearly jumped out of the bed as I exclaimed….”YOU GOT ORDERS?” Since neither of us had been terribly thrilled being in northern Maine, Fred had been inquiring about being reassigned. The answer he usually received was, “Sir, you have three more years here before we’ll even consider transferring you.” But, apparently the AF needed instructors for their officer’s school in San Antonio, Texas more than they needed meteorologists at Loring AFB, and he had been given his walking orders. We were beyond excited!

Months later, as we were getting ready to depart for warmer climes, I attended an Officers Wives Club luncheon, where the Base Commander’s wife was issuing goodbyes to those leaving. It was amusing to hear her say, “….is heading to….AFB, south from here. And …..is heading to AFB,…. south from here. Well! I just realized that ANYwhere is south from here!”

Our church had a picnic in August before we left. It was great fun, and a great way to say goodbye to those we had come to love in Christ. There was the usual picnic stuff going on – softball, hot dogs, horseshoes, etc.

 

And there was this really…REALLY…tall slide that Karen absolutely LOVED going down. My heart was in my throat every time she climbed up and slid down, but she had a blast!

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And so, we left northern Maine and Loring AFB in late August, heading south. We were wearing sweaters at the time, as it was getting cold already. We arrived in Pennsylvania, to spend some time with Fred’s parents, and were back to wearing shorts. What a difference!

 

And so ends our Transition to Maine. Thank goodness it was only 13 months long!

 

 

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Smile!

12 Sep

From My Heart

Louise Gibson

author of Window Wonders

 

                                                  S                  E

                                                       m         L

                                                               i

 

 

 

Do yourself a favor-

Smiling is good for you,

It slows down your heart  beat and reduces stress-

and lowers your blood pressure, too.

 

A smile is infectious.

It will always remove a frown.

Facial muscles will be raised up-

It’s the best face lift in town..

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A smile can delight your heart-

and is great at lighting a soul..

Lift someone’s spirit today-

make smiling a top priority goal.

 

I put my theory to “the test”

The woman in the mirror was frowning at me-

I gave her the brightest smile I could muster-

and she smiled right back at me.

 

Numbers 6:25

“The Lord make His face to shine upon you,

and be gracious to you.”

 

Your smile could be a message of cheer from God

to a needy soul.

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Gunnison Adventure ~Part 3

9 Sep

A Few Things

Patricia Franklin

The most memorable Gunnison trip we took was one into the high mountains via Steers Gulch Road. My husband rode horseback up here as a child with his Uncle on a fishing trip. He had not been up here since, and neither of the guys knew the road or the way there and down the other side into Antelope. The road was not well traveled, but they figured it would get better as we drove up on this round trip down memory lane. We drove for two hours uphill and were still climbing. We had forest service maps with us, but these maps did not show the roads that these guys travel, so we were not too sure where we were going to end up. Finally we came to a deep valley with an old road leading down to a cabin, which my husband remembered as “April’s Cabin.” So we knew we were on the right track, even though there were old logging roads or hunting roads leading off in other directions.

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As we drove on up, we saw field after field of flowers and more varieties of mountain flowers than I have ever seen, and we had to get out many times and get close up pictures along the way. Several were very rare and only bloom for a short time when conditions are perfect. We ran across many we did not recognize.

After enduring this rough “road” for many miles, we finally came to the top of the mountain and were able to look over into the next range of mountains, the Baldy Mountain Range, which is visible on the horizon from Gunnison.

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This is where my husband and his uncle rode horseback down the side of the mountain to Beaver Creek, where they caught a “pillow case” full of trout to take home. Of course, that is not legal any more, but I don’t know of anyone who would make this trip just to fish anyway. This was a beautiful area with a big old stump at the top of the meadow with Columbines growing all around it. This made a wonderful picture, with the Baldies in the background.

 

We then started down the other side of the mountain and headed for home. It was not supposed to rain that day, but the clouds were building up and we did not want to get caught up there in a rain storm. We had a couple of choices of roads to take, and we figured out later we took the road that was not a road, and I’m sure had not been traveled or maintained forever. We ended up going down over huge rocks and just hanging on till we got to the bottom of a ravine. At the last bump going down, our brand new off-road tires got scrunched by the rocks and we blew a tire — 20 miles out in the wilderness on a non-used road, and no cell phone service. So the guys got out to change the tire, and of course it started to rain. 20 miles out in this country could have been 100 because of the rough up and down terrain, the rocks, gullies and then clay-like mud and swampy areas. Well, they got the tire changed and we started up the hill on the other side of the ravine, not knowing for sure where we were going or if we would end up at a dead end. The guys kept saying the road should get better, as they were sure this was the Antelope Road, but in fact, it got worse and we were bumping over rocks, then sliding down the clay-like muddy road that just kept going up and down, through the trees and gullies. It was a very long, tedious ride for many miles, as everyone got quiet, the road got worse and rain kept coming down.

Finally, we topped a hill and they saw the city of Gunnison in a valley many miles away. The “road” we were on looked like it would continue on, so in spite of the conditions, we were relieved, even though we knew if we slid off or lost another tire, we would be walking this road for many hours in the dark, without proper clothing or lighting. We finally came to civilization again as we spotted a ranch house about 1/2 mile away. After that, we felt like we could breathe again, and finally came upon a main road that took us home.

You would think that someone of our age and experience would know getter than to get into a situation like that, but after all, we were just out for a “little Sunday drive.” That was our big adventure for this year. I would not do it again, but we did get some beautiful pictures and saw flowers that we will never see again. And I got closer to the Lord as I did a lot of praying

The original family homestead with new construction.

The original family homestead with new construction.

 

Slide show of the flowers we saw.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

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Transition to Maine~Part 5

8 Sep

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

 

Winter humidity in Maine is so dry/non-existent, that we had to have a humidifier running inside the house all winter.  Otherwise, the furniture would come apart, and the glue in the picture frames would dry up and the frames would fall apart.  We purchased a new one when we arrived, and sold it when we left.

It was so cold and dry during the winter, that I wrote to family and friends that “when you go outside, and the moisture in your nose freezes, you KNOW it’s cold!”

Fred was able to get off time at Christmas, so we drove to King of Prussia, Pennsylvania to spend it with his parents.

 

 

 

It was a long drive, but it was nice to get back to “civilization.”  While it was still cold in PA, it was almost a relief to have “normal” cold rather than the bitter cold of Maine.

We held a going-away party at our house for the departing Commander of the Weather Detachment.  Most of the unit attended, including spouses.  While in Germany we had some reel-to-reel tapes of instrumental music made, and since they were long-playing, we just let them play during the party.  The Commander got up and gave his goodbye speech.  There was a pause – in the music as well as in his speech.  When he started up again, he started with “I just want to thank you all….”  At the same instant, the music began again, and it happened to be Bob Hope’s theme song Thanks for the Memories.  I couldn’t have timed it better if I had planned it!  One of the other officers there was also a musician, and we looked at each other and grinned – we both caught the significance of it.

After the departure of the Commander, Fred became the unit Commander, serving in that capacity for the remainder of our time there.

Our little church was without a pastor when we arrived.  Several of the men in the church would take turns preaching – including Fred.  There was a small choir.  In spite of it all, the spirit of the congregation was good, and we had a good fellowship, and were able to worship our Lord and Savior.  While we were there, the church called a pastor.  Turns out, his wife was a Maine native, and they were eager to return to the state.  God used him greatly in that place – and he stayed as pastor for 20 years, until his retirement.  We have since learned that the government has closed Loring AFB, and that impacted the church as well.  We knew they had been reaching out to the local communities, in hopes of having a lasting congregation if….when….the base closed.  We don’t know, currently, how it is faring.

~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~

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Honoring My Grandparents ~ Ida and Marie Bowers

7 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Here’s a funny thing. Ira and Marie Bowers were married on September 6, 1914 which means this month marks the 100th anniversary of their union. Bill and I were married on September 6, 1957 and will be celebrating our 57th. Grandmother and Granddad were married for over sixty years and it looks as if Bill and I will make that milestone as well – we’re close now, anyway.

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I got to spend quite a lot of time with our grandparents. Throughout my childhood every summer I visited with them for a week. Grandmother wanted my brother and I to come separately because we fought too much when we were together. Sometimes I missed my family and our dog Brownie, but I wouldn’t trade the time with Marie and Ira for anything.

My first real memory of them was when I was somewhere between three and five years old and decided to take a walk. I’m sure I’d been taken around the block many times, but now that I was a “big girl” I could go on my own. At one point, I did feel a bit unsure of where I was, but I hadn’t crossed any streets so I kept going and ended up back at their big apartment house from where I had begun.

When I arrived back at the house there was a lot of agitation in the air. Apparently they thought I’d either been lost or kidnapped. It was a prison town, no one was really afraid, but there were certain things you adhered to in case someone escaped. Keeping an eye on your children was one of them. After grandmother discovered that I was all right, she told me to find granddad and tell him. Granddad was a man’s man, but he had a gentle side, and I knew it all my life. He was always gentle and quiet with me, never got angry or yelled or criticized, helped me stay out of trouble whenever he could AND when I found him standing in the big front bedroom where I usually slept, he was crying because he thought I was lost. That’s a pretty powerful message for a tot. I can see him now, tall and gray with his face in his hands.

Grandmother taught me so much. She let me vacuum, taught me how to wash windows and how to clean an oven with newspapers and ammonia. She let me walk to town with her, in and out of the bank, Penny’s, Rexall, and Red’s grocery. In Penney’s she taught me the names of all the beautiful fabrics. She was a hairdresser and she kept my hair nicely groomed, and made lovely clothes for me. She talked to me a lot and that was edifying too. When I was twelve she gave me her cowboys boots. They’d been members of the saddle-club and gone on long rides, but now they were giving it up and I got the boots. I loved them dearly and insisted on wearing them with everything.

Grandmother came from farming stock. She was the eldest of eleven children and always worked, even though later in life she was diagnosed with a congenital heart murmur. When her mother died she took in her youngest siblings who were close in age to her own boys, my dad and his brother.

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She had her own beauty salon, and she and granddad also invested in a Victorian house on a shaded street which they turned into a lovely apartment house.

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Granddad’s father was a horseman and also owned a general store. Granddad did all the repairs to his and grandmother’s house, took good care of the yard, and kept the car running. He was a guard at the penitentiary for many years. The camera swept over him in the movie, “Canon City,” which was about a prison break—part of his experiences too.

They were just my grandparents and I kind of lost touch with them in later years. I did try to write every week until the last of them was gone. Now, however hardly a day passes that I don’t remember something they taught me. I thank God for the love and the good influences they put into my life. I’d love to sit down with them now and have a wonderful visit. Someday that will happen.

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This picture doesn’t look too happy, but honestly I think she just didn’t have the energy for everything she did and a toddler was hard. She loved me as passionately as any grandmother loves her grandchildren which was with all her heart.

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