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1 Corinthians 3:4-8 “Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy, love does not parade itself, is not puffed up, does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails…”

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Going Home...


There is so much to look forward to when we step into that panoramic view of our past. One of the most exciting events of my recent Alhambra High 69 reunion was the opportunity to visit the home where I spent my childhood years.

As we drove down the street towards the old homestead I felt conflicting pangs of familiarity and sadness. There were so many changes and yet so much remains the same even after 40 years.
We pulled up in front of our old one story ranch-style house. I recognized it immediately even though it was now a pasty white instead of brown. The two palm trees at the front that started out barely 2 feet tall are now twice the height of the house. The two oblong shaped grey block flower boxes that had been at the front of the yard are gone. My mother always hated those boxes because their shape reminded her of coffins. I didn’t like them much myself because the ice plant that drew those slimy slugs. Several of those creepy crawly creatures found their way into the shoes I placed deep insidethe planter hidden from Moms view instead of on my feet. Note to all…always shake out shoes and examine intently when they are stored outside before inserting foot. This is crucial, especially when they are stashed in planter box full of squishy creatures.

I didn’t knock on doors to check but as rumored and so appears all our old neighbors have left. The Godich family homes across directly across the street, the Bryce house to the right and the Buetzow’s to the left of it; the homes had all changed mainly for the worse. The Garcia’s, the Woodward’s, the Kurtz’s old houses definitely showed the ravages of time and neglect. Ed Broad’s, who was a sheriff and lived on the corner, was really overgrown with weeds and the old dead shrubbery and dilapidated frame made it a pitiful sight. Wilma and Clyde lived on the let side of us. That house changed owners before we left. The Mulholland’s to the left and the Millers to the right were likely one of the last hold-outs. It was a bit like seeing my grandparent’s place and the neighborhood changes where they lived in Pittsburg California, years after they had passed on. Only this just hit a bit closer to home…no humor intended.

The carport of our old house was empty. Even though we went back later in the day and a car was there I still didn’t have the courage to go knock on the door. However, I did coerce my hubby into taking a cruise down the alley behind the house. The same towering block wall still stood as well as the wooden walk-through gate. The heavy double wooden gate we took the boat through had been replaced with some strange looking blocks that didn’t match the original, but I guess they served the purpose.

I strained to look into the back yard and resisted the temptation to get out and climb the wall to look in. I’ve never been arrested and I didn’t want to use this nostalgic event to change that record. So, there was nothing left to do but power back the moon roof, climb through with my trusty Nikon and try my best to stretch and catch a few strategic shots. I couldn’t see much of the back yard. What I did see was a little depressing but considering the time and changes I had seen, not unexpected.

Many of the windows I could see, especially in what had been my dad’s office, were broken and covered in old decayed multi-hued pieces of rough broken plywood. Where my beautiful rock fish pond had stood, there was a makeshift shack-like structure that looked like it might be held together with carpet tacks. Next to that was the brick and flagstone barbeque. What a disappointment. It was still standing but there had been substandard repairs and most of the bricks had been painted a strange color and were now falling apart.

The original craftsmanship and grandeur of the entire backyard, the huge rocks, the flagstone, the barbeque, and the peaceful pond filled with large beautiful goldfish are nothing but fond memories. It’s all a bit sad but I try to keep things in perspective. I’ve discovered that the great thing about memories is that they allow you to see things as they were…not like they are. In a world full of unmet expectations, unfulfilled dreams and uncertain futures, sometimes that’s exactly what we need.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Phoenix Rising...40 Years of Memories



Like the Israelites 40 years in the wilderness, it's easy forget about God’s blessings because we focus on our immediate circumstances. Inevitably, each of us will face our own wilderness experience, and it’s these difficult times that strengthen our faith and build our character. God promises that His grace is sufficient to guide us through those dry valleys, and that He will be there to provide everything we need.

I’m back… In an earlier post I mentioned being transplanted from Phoenix to San Diego at age 15. Somehow I’ve always managed to end up back in San Diego even though I did spend almost four years in Kansas City Missouri and 9 months in Millington Tennessee. I always thought I’d end up back in Arizona but it’s not looking likely that I will move at this late date. However, I just finished a most incredible desert experience.

After 45 years I finally visited my old stomping grounds in Phoenix. I attended the 40th reunion of the 1969 Alhambra High graduating class. True, I did not actually graduate there because I moved to San Diego but I couldn’t pass the opportunity to see some of my old grade school friends from Granada Elementry. And, it was definitely worth the trip. The Friday night mixer at Marc’s sports Bar & Grill was packed. It was standing room only. and a little chaotic…but fun and a wonderful prelude to the Saturday night event at the 4 Points Sheraton.

The best part of the reunion was connecting with my childhood friend Cindy who lived next door. Glenyce lives here in San Diego. A few years ago I was able to meet with her and our friend Becky for lunch here in San Diego. All that was missing was our fourth musketeer Roberta. Well…she was there with all of us at the reunion. Wow…what a great homecoming for me!

A real treat was to be able to chat with Sue who is a great social coordinator. I remember her so well from all the track events. She could run very fast…I could too, but she had a good 8 inches in height on me and seemed to be all legs so I couldn’t outrun her but I did make a superb effort even if I do say so myself. Susie Skinner is beautiful and I hoped my hubby wouldn't notice her gorgeous red hair as he has periodically hinted that I would make a good redhead. I’m not so sure about that myself but she looks terrific and just like I remembered her. Denise might be a bit older like the rest of us but I would have recognized her anywhere and Lee Nicholson hasn’t changed a bit either. She still looks like that sweet, 8th grade girl with the innocent smile.

Three of the guys that I remember are Eddie Moed, Richard Abalos and Kenneth Laird. Eddie is quite the character and much more outgoing than I remember from school and Richard Abalos hasn’t changed at all. Ken was the bad boy that all the girls were crazy about. He lived on the next block from me and was good friends with Randy Henson, my first crush and Tim Williams one of the sons of our baby sitter Margaret. Ken gave me quite a bit of info on many of the gang in our old neighborhood. It’s nice to hear what happened with some of the people you grew up with even if some of it is a bit sad. But the sadness is just a part of the nostalgia of moving through life as it is…as we wish it could be...eternally hopeful…forever young in our hearts.

Some of Our Old Gang

















Val & Terry

Wayne, Sue, Cindy, val, Terry



Granada Elementry

Amazing Grace in a Desert Place

My Old Elemetry School





No trip to a High School Reunion event is complete without a reminiscent tour of the old neighborhood. It’s strange how tapes just rewind and slowly all the memories come flooding back. Some of those things wouldn’t seem significant to other people but to me blonde and over 50…just the fact that I can still remember them astounds me.

We dedicated the entire Friday before the evening Mixer to checking out the old territory. My hubby was extremely patient as we drove up and down the various streets between 28th and 40th and Indian School Rd and Bethany Home Rd. This was a pretty good sized area and we didn’t actually cover every square foot but we did uncover a plethora of old haunts and memories.

My Old Elementary Schools consisted of Valencia (grades 1-4) and Granada that hosted 2 classes of 4th through 8th. I was one of those that went to Granada for fourth. Now they are Granada Primary and Granada East. My next-door neighbor Cindy was in the second class. I’ll talk more about her in my next blog.

Surprisingly the streets around the schools look the same and even the old Lynnhaven church that we used to cut through their lot to walk to school was recognizable. However there’d be no shortcutting now with all that heavy-duty fencing surrounding the church property. Even with the changes the neighborhood still looked and felt familiar.

I am bold in some areas and a bit of a coward in others. My hubby really did need to encourage me to walk in to the Granada East Office. I’m glad he did because though I had hoped I might be able to look around a bit I was totally surprised that the principal gave me a tour. Most of the classrooms had changed. The old-fashioned windows we gazed out while attempting to tune out the class lessons were gone. No window at all to open, all replaced by present day comfort of the AC we never had the privilege to experience. Though I think I might still prefer the windows. The old multipurpose room where we ate and watched performances no longer has a stage. I was told it had just been a matter of a few weeks that the old tables that folded down out of the walls had been replaced by brand new stationary seating. The lunch serving line had long since disappeared but now there was a lunch cafĂ©...pretty spiffy I might add. Wonder what my 35 cent a day lunch card would buy now…not even a couple French fries I’m afraid.

I was able to go into the Library and though it had changed it had that very familiar essence. I admit I was not really focused much on my classes or grades at least in the later elementary school years but I have a special feeling for the library. I love to read and I have a passion for books. I think both the Valencia and Granada elementary school libraries played a big part in cultivating that love. Mr. Sanders my English teacher and Mr. Rodriquez my reading teacher were also instrumental in that growth.

Probably the part that touched me the most was our walk out to the athletic field. Even with all the changes I could still see it as it was. I remembered Mr. Nutter and all our P.E. classes, our jumping jacks and wing-stretchers among a ton of other exercises I still recall and do occasionally….quite occasionally. I replayed the relay races and the 50 yard dashes and the hop-step-and jump and broad jump competitions. There we were at recess crowded around ready for 4 square and tetherball. I could even see the volleyball net that I ran into in 4th grade making two huge embarrassing and painful rope burns across my face. It’s uncanny all the strange memories that surface with very little prompting. A tiny flash of memory and I could see the Ball field and all the Little League games we watched on the weekends and summer nights. Even better were our softball teams and the games we played. I still remember my baseball glove and the creative girlie names…”Campus Cuties” at one point and the “Powder Puffs in another era.” How many balls were hit, caught, fielded or missed...too many to count. And plentiful enough to remind me that there was a time that life though challenging…was far less complicated…and often more fun.

Life moves forward, buildings change and people change. Too often people leave…sometimes forever. But we don’t need to worry. The important ones remain as an integral part of our past, our present and our future, because they live on in our heart forever.

Thank you, school staff at Granada East for your kindness in giving me an opportunity to retrace the path to my elementary years. It was a busy day at Granada and you still extended an amazing amount of grace in escorting me through my old memories.

Thank you Mrs. Randall, Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Dundee, Mrs. Svoboda, Mr. Nutter, Mr. Rodriquez, Mr. Pettis and all the other teachers whose names escape me for the moment. Thank you for the memories and the reminder that what we do in life, the choices we make, and the hearts and lives we touch matter. Never underestimate the impact your life makes in the hearts of others.

Thank you God, for the abundant blessings, and the amazing grace and love I have found in this desert place.