My foray into blogger land was suspended by the wonder of Beautiful Alaska. When people ask, "What was your favorite place/thing? I have to say all of it. But today I'd like to highlight some of the adventurous people I met along the way. This study of people began when we got off the plane in
Fairbanks at 10pm. The sun was hovering just above the mountains when we found our bags and got on the bus. Since we were there first, the driver began telling us about himself. He is a retired teacher from Idaho who now spends his summers in Fairbanks where he taught and then drives a bus in Florida during the winter. He said he thought Alaska was one of the most beautiful places on Earth but he wouldn't dream of living there in the winter now. Days are only a few hours long there but "I read a novel there other night at 4AM without artificial light! As we left the airport, he immediately began talking about Fairbanks - telling us about the white paper aspens & black spruce trees along the way. It seems that during World War II, Fairbanks main street became the runway for the great bomber planes headed for Europe and Russia. Today it is home for a large military base and two gold mines. It is also the end of the line as a city - the villages north of there must come to Fairbanks to buy anything that is needed for the 21st Century!
The next person of interest to me was Fran, our guide on the domed train to Anchorage after our trip to Denali ( that experience will be a blog theme on a later day. Fran was from California. She left home after college looking for adventure and became a hostess for Alaska Airlines during the early '80s. She fell in love with the land but also with an adventurer who also chose the Alaskan life. They lived in Anchorage where she became a teacher/counselor in the school system. She had been a "soccer mom" when raising her sons. The train was her mode of transporting the boys to their games as far away as Fairbanks. I had notice beautiful flowers everywhere we went and was surprised to hear her say that one of her hobbies is raising perennials. "Why go to all that work for 3 month? Because during that time they are bigger and more beautiful than anywhere in Calif. Why? because of the long days of sun and fertile soil. In Wasilla the people are proud of their huge vegetables & the Fair is the time to show off!!!
Stay tuned for more of my new friends next time.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Summer '56
I was sharing my summer after graduation with Taylor - just comparing notes on the shock of moving from the High School world to the "adult world," Roger happened to be listening and commented." I never heard that story before." Humm how could that happen?
As I pondered that comment afterwards, I realized that growing up with one's parents doesn't necessarily mean we know all about them. In recent days I have been confronted over and over about the Heritage we leave behind. So I hope to share stories and experiences from my many years of life that will help those who come behind develop a sense of purpose that is all their own. So here goes--
I graduated from Mitchell High School in Nebraska at the age of sixteen in 1956. I had one singular purpose, to become a teacher. Being the second of six children there was no money for college so we searched for a way and found it. My brother, Don, sold a horse and paid for Summer School at Scottsbluff Junior College. It was the last year that a person could take twelve hours of teaching classes and be certified to teach in a small country school. So I drove the 10 miles to Scottsbluff in my Mother's car - leaving the house at 6:30 to take classes from 7Am until Noon.
In the afternoon, I studied until 4:00 (sometimes studying meant reading and evaluating children's book to my little brother and sister and their friends under the big tree in our backyard.)
At 4:00 I reported for duty at the drive-inn café a few blocks from the house where I worked until close at Midnight. Then it was clean-up for at least and hour, walk the few blocks home, crawl in bed which I shared with little sister, Linda. She would say "Joanie" but her little arm around me neck and her knees in my back where we slept until 6 AM and I started this all over again.
At the end of the summer, I interviewed for a job west of Kimball, Nebraska. The board member was concerned about my age but when he asked what I would do if I had a child come to my classroom who could only speak Spanish what would I do. I said, "Well, I took a year of Spanish in High School." What I didn't tell him was all I could do was count!!! He gave me the job!
My Dad drove me eighty miles to my new home and school, mumbling all the way that he'd have to come get me before the week was over. I had to prove him wrong! And I did! But that is another story!
)
As I pondered that comment afterwards, I realized that growing up with one's parents doesn't necessarily mean we know all about them. In recent days I have been confronted over and over about the Heritage we leave behind. So I hope to share stories and experiences from my many years of life that will help those who come behind develop a sense of purpose that is all their own. So here goes--
I graduated from Mitchell High School in Nebraska at the age of sixteen in 1956. I had one singular purpose, to become a teacher. Being the second of six children there was no money for college so we searched for a way and found it. My brother, Don, sold a horse and paid for Summer School at Scottsbluff Junior College. It was the last year that a person could take twelve hours of teaching classes and be certified to teach in a small country school. So I drove the 10 miles to Scottsbluff in my Mother's car - leaving the house at 6:30 to take classes from 7Am until Noon.
In the afternoon, I studied until 4:00 (sometimes studying meant reading and evaluating children's book to my little brother and sister and their friends under the big tree in our backyard.)
At 4:00 I reported for duty at the drive-inn café a few blocks from the house where I worked until close at Midnight. Then it was clean-up for at least and hour, walk the few blocks home, crawl in bed which I shared with little sister, Linda. She would say "Joanie" but her little arm around me neck and her knees in my back where we slept until 6 AM and I started this all over again.
At the end of the summer, I interviewed for a job west of Kimball, Nebraska. The board member was concerned about my age but when he asked what I would do if I had a child come to my classroom who could only speak Spanish what would I do. I said, "Well, I took a year of Spanish in High School." What I didn't tell him was all I could do was count!!! He gave me the job!
My Dad drove me eighty miles to my new home and school, mumbling all the way that he'd have to come get me before the week was over. I had to prove him wrong! And I did! But that is another story!
)
Friday, July 19, 2013
HELLO BLOGGER WORLD
lets see if this will work. Something new in Grandma's world. Thanks to my dear friend Kristin who is teaching me a new skill. I'm excited to see what happens. Have we unleashed a new monster?
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