Moscow in the Summer

(Wikipedia - Public Domain)

Today I read an interesting article about Chernobyl years after the nuclear reactor meltdown. As the "adventurers" who were the subject of the article The Lights Come Back on in Chernobyl were Polish, and DENNY HILL lives part-time in Poland, I forwarded the article to him. The following are emails he sent me in response.

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It was, and still is, a sad story. I think that tomatoes grown there, shortly after the disaster, glowed in the dark. Don't know if they still do.

The (Chernobyl) meltdown was totally caused by "cowboy" type Russian engineers, who ignored normal required safety procedures, and tried to manually manipulate the reactor, and they screwed up...human error, not the breakdown of the reactor per se.

The story of how it happened, and how it was strictly a homemade disaster, was explained to me when I was in Moscow in the summer of 1992.

(Of course, I had to ask Denny what he was doing in Moscow.)

I spent the summer in Moscow because I was supposed to be on an exchange program between the USA National Academy of Sciences and the Soviet National Academy of Sciences.

I was visiting the Steklov Mathematical Institute in Moscow. There is also one in Saint Petersburg (former Leningrad). But in 1992 they were in an old building with creaky wooden parquet floors. Since then, they have moved to a new modern building, but I have never been there or seen it.

It was a funny story: you apply for this program, and nothing happens for a year or more...so you forget about it. Then suddenly you get notice from Washington that you have been accepted, and they want you to go...in order to maintain "business as usual".

Explanation of how and why it was strange, and why they wanted "business as usual":

1.) Under normal circumstances, it had always been that the USA paid only your round trip plane ticket, and the Russians were supposed to pay your room and board for the duration. Your itinerary was determined by them...this week you give a seminar in Moscow, next week they send you to Leningrad, the following week, fly you to Novosibirsk, or you take trains to some other place for seminars, etc.

In other words, you are essentially their prisoner (in a friendly way) and they decide who and where and when you talk to people in your field of research. They put you up in Moscow in the "Academic Hotel" and you can eat out in numerous restaurants, i.e., life sort of as normal there.

What happened in my case is that between the time I applied for the exchange program, and the time I was selected for it, the Soviet Union collapsed (on December 25, 1991)! As was explained over the phone to me, by some official in Washington DC, at the National Academy of Sciences, since there was no longer a Soviet Union, it meant I was on an exchange program between the USA Academy, and the void set. The treaty agreement still existed on paper between the two academies, but the one on the Russian side had ceased to exist. So the US guys were begging me to go, just to show the Russians that they wanted "business as usual" as far as normal scientific exchanges are concerned.

The Russians were also begging me to come, for the same reasons. Neither side wanted scientific exchanges to stop just because the Soviet Union no longer existed. Yeltsin was nominally in power, but of course the emerging new Russia was actually being run by the KGB, renamed FSB (Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation).

(Kremlin -Credit: AP/Misha Japaridze)

Trouble was that the Russians were out of money, the Russian Academy was totally broke, prices in Moscow had gone up, and they did not have the rubles to pay for my hotel room, or for train, or plane trips, etc. So if I went there, I would be totally free, and not have to travel around according to any itinerary fixed by them. Also, you could not get into restaurants because they had been taken over by the Russian Mafia, and they would not let you in, claiming the whole restaurant was booked up, when it was clearly empty. Also the price for a mafia to kill someone was around only $400. Taxis were too dangerous to use, because the drivers would just take you someplace and rob or beat or kill you. Supermarkets were empty...yes, empty! Bare shelves. 

You were supposed to declare any money at the airport, when you arrived, but my Russian friends told me that in no circumstances should I declare more than $300 on the required form at the airport. (Had to be less than the $400 above.) And no big bills, too dangerous...only single $1s, $5s or maybe a few $10s. So I had around $2,000 in a giant wad stuffed in my underwear, in small bills. Never needed it...it was there just for any emergency. I lied on the form at the airport, saying I had only $250. (The monthly salary then for a famous Russian Academician was only $20.)

But I have gotten ahead of the story...

2.) As I was finding out some of the above, before making a decision, I had this funny conversation over the phone with the guys in Washington: I asked them how safe they thought it would be, if I did in fact decide to go there. Their answer was: 'we cannot give an update, because our U.S. Academy representative in Moscow was mugged last night, is in the hospital, and we have not been able to contact him to see how he is doing'.

3.) So after numerous emails with the Russian side, finally I said I would go if the Russians would satisfy these 3 conditions:

    (a.) Someone I personally know would pick me up at the airport, and at the end of my stay someone I know would drive me to the airport...so as to avoid being immediately robbed upon arrival, or upon departure by the taxi mafia.

   (b) They would find me an apartment to live in, so I did not have to stay a single night in a hotel.

  (c) Such apartment would have cooking facilities, so I would not have to eat a single time in a restaurant. (As DENNY had said the supermarkets were bare, I subsequently asked him where he got anything to cook!)

(I took, as checked luggage, an old fashioned 'trunk', or 'foot locker' heavily stuffed with pasta, sauce, parmesan cheese, peanut butter, cans of tuna, favorite coffee and tea, etc. Enough to survive any emergency...slowly used it up over the summer.)

(Moscow supermarket)

The Russians did just that (satisfied my 3 conditions), and paid me 100 rubles per day as a per diem. (Then 100 rubles was our 75 cents!) That was all they could afford. But it turned out to be enough since the apartment was free (it was the apartment of the sister of some mathematician, and the sister was in the countryside dacha for the summer). So I lived like a king on not much more that 75 cents per day. The whole summer, I never took a taxi by myself, but went on buses and the metro often. And did not eat a single time at a restaurant (only in the canteen for lunch at Steklov Institute of Mathematics, where a full 3-course lunch cost me about 16 cents).

For the first month or so I was paranoid about being robbed, mugged, beaten, etc. But eventually I realized I was being monitored by those KGB guys in the black car that followed me everywhere, and they did not want simple common criminals to mess me up and create an international incident. Remember, they wanted to demonstrate 'business as usual'.

I hung out often at the Irish pub on Arbat Street, and spent most of my time trying to learn Russian with a Russian teacher, but now I still cannot speak the language."

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It may sound like DENNY was being melodramatic when he spoke of the Russian "mafia taxis", however, a little research turned up the following 1992 article. Notes from the Underworld It is rather lengthy, so here is an excerpt to prove he was right in being cautious:

"MOSCOW -- Visitors who have finally made it through customs at Moscow's international airport are channeled toward a narrow doorway that opens to their first encounter with organized crime, Russian-style.

Two lines of black-leather-jacketed men press in from either side, forming a sort of human chute. They are taxi drivers.

(from the Russian LiveJournal)

They lean in close, seeking likely-looking fares among the emerging passengers, still disoriented by the scruffiness, the noise, the dim lighting and the apparent chaos of the airport known as Sheremetyevo-2.

'Taxi? Taxi?'

Overwhelming, insistent, they seem to be everywhere. But the appearance of disorder is deceiving.

The airport taxi drivers form one of the mafias that flourish in Russia today. They are a band -- of bandits, some would say -- with their own rules, their own hierarchy, their own sense of honor."

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Brief notes about some other classmates: ROSALYN URBANTKE HOELSCHER sent the following: "My dear Nolan passed away September 17, 2016. We were very sad to see him go, but it was certainly past time. He was unconscious and completely paralyzed for almost 2-years, He only weighed 85 pounds. Just so sad. I am doing OK. I am in my home, and my son is living with me now. I hope to hear something about the classmates and especially from you as to what's going on. I have missed all of you so much. Thank you for thinking of me." I was unable to ever find an obituary for her husband Nolan, so I emailed my condolences. I don't know if she actually saw the blog post about his passing.

PATI COCKRELL PRITCHARD sent this recently: " I was at work. Yup, I'm still at it. I am thinking of going part-time soon. I'm getting tired of the traffic. There might actually be some stuff I'd enjoy besides WORK ... maybe hang out with the daughter and GRANDdaughter! Gene has retired so I'm sure he'd let me help poison weeds with him. Have you heard anything about the reunion? DARN sorry you won't be able to attend!!!" As soon as JAMES and others meet and plan for the 60th reunion, I will let everyone know.

JUNE HASH CURRY and I correspond frequently. Recently, she's had some concerning news about her family's health. Two of her granddaughters and her son-in-law are dealing with serious health issues. Please remember her and them in your thoughts and prayers. She is so wonderful at caring and praying for others in times of trouble and illness, she deserves our special consideration.

MARTHA NORTHINGTON and TRUMAN CONNER and I have been trying to schedule a get-together for a few weeks now. Something keeps popping up for one or the other of us that causes us to postpone. TRUMAN had back-to-back trips to Palm Springs, California and Padre Island for leisure and golf. He spends time at Padre (not the part where senior trips were held!) every year at the same time. Apparently there's good golfing there as well as the one he played on in Palm Springs. I promise to get some good stories and photos to share once we finally connect. 

GLENN SMITH recently had cataract surgery. I hope he is completely recovered and his eyesight improved enough to write some more books! TRUMAN recently had the same surgery and is extremely pleased with the results.

I know this is a long post, but if I get news enough more frequently (hint), I could do shorter ones. DENNY had a wonderful repertoire of stories to tell from his travels through the years. Hopefully, this will spur some of you to share some of your own stories! Sixty years since high school must contain many, many tales. They do not have to be about trips abroad or to exotic places. Although, we love to vicariously enjoy them. Until next time..

Peace and Love,

Marilyn

SCENIC VIEWS; A LITTLE NEWS

I took these photos in 2008 on my way back to Ballinger from Mineral Wells. Unfortunately, I didn't document where they were taken, but I do recall seeing the bridge from the highway, and taking a side trip to view it up close. If I remember correctly it was right outside a very small town. The fall plumage was so magnificent I couldn't resist photographing it. Who says West Texas isn't beautiful?

My hometown reporter, NANCY THOMPSON BAKER, called me this morning to give me a few bits of news. GLENN SMITH is scheduled to have cataract surgery shortly. We wish him a successful surgery. GLENN has not responded to emails lately, and I assume he has been having difficulty reading the computer screen. Hopefully, he will get back to writing his books.

NANCY and hubby, Jake Baker (Class of '54), continue to enjoy their retirement with frequent trips to casinos across the country. Jake has had many health issues in recent years, but as soon as he bounces back, which he always does, they plan another trip. Recently, I heard of a horrific bus crash, killing several people, on its way to Biloxi, MS to the gambling casinos.  It was filled with senior citizens, so I worried until I heard that most of the riders were from the Austin area. NANCY and Jake nearly always fly. This morning there was an article in the online news about a holdup in the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas. Of course, I had to send the information to NANCY, as it was so bizarre: "At least 3 people entered the Bellagio wearing 'dark, nice suits' or tuxedos and animal masks, Metro Lt. Carlos Hank said. The burglars grabbed several items and then stripped out of their outfits as they fled."

I warned NANCY to watch out for the piggy.

I posted this from NEIL BROUSSARD as a comment on the last blog post. It got on there a little late, so I thought I would share my congratulations with the class.. "Not much exciting from my end. Ellen and I celebrated our 54th wedding anniversary on the 15th. Then on the 17th we celebrated my Mother's 99th Birthday. She doesn't use a cane or walker and is still sharp." That sounds pretty exciting to me! We should all be so lucky as to reach 99 years! And in such good health.

Class President, JAMES HAYS, stays busy, as always. He sent me the following: "I am now a member of the Runnels County Historical Commission. Sounds important, but is good for maybe one free meal a year. We meet bimonthly, the next one about 20th of May, probably at the NEW Lowake Inn at Rowena, with a program about the old Humble Camp.

I have been selected to give a 20 minute delivery on a paper I wrote about Isaac Mullins, a pioneer, Indian fighter, Ranger, and rancher/state representative who ranged all over central Texas and ended in what is now Veribest, which he founded. This will be in Lubbock at the West Texas Historical Assn. May 8th. Anyone unlucky enough to be in Lubbock in the spring, come and bring over-ripe fruit to throw."

JAMES also indicated he would like to have a meeting with those interested in starting the plans for the 60th (can't believe that!) reunion. You may call him or email him to discuss this further. Addresses are in the back of your handbook. By the way, please notify me if/when any of your address/phone/email information changes. Some have been missing the blog posts.

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Since I happen to be writing this on the 25th of March, I'd like to wish JIM COWLISHAW a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

To all of you who let me know they wish to have the blog continue, I thank you. It is fun to hear what's happening in your lives. Please, keep me informed .. especially all the "good stuff"!

Peace and Much Love,

Marilyn

LATEST NEWS

Sadly, we have lost another of our own. I'm sorry I do not have a recent photo of Ross. At the time I put the '57 Class Reunion handbook together, Ross was grieving over the loss of his wife. It was understandable at the time that he did not want to participate in our reunion celebrations. Rest in peace, Ross.                              

JAMES ROSS DAVIS         (September 5, 1939 - March 17, 2017) 

James Ross Davis, 77, of Ballinger, Texas, passed away Friday, March 17, 2017, at the home of dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Mike Parsons, in San Angelo, Texas.

Ross was born September 5, 1939, in Ballinger, Texas, to H.G. and Margarete Davis (Cox). He married Wanda J. Robinson in 1962 in Ballinger. She preceded him in death April 29, 2007.

Dad enjoyed offshore fishing, collecting arrowheads, missionary work for the church, and the strongest coffee he could find. He loved raising his family and worshiping the Lord. He spent his life working for the Lord through mission trips to Costa Rica and across Texas. He was a kind hearted, selfless, honest, and caring person and had a sense of humor that could lighten up anyone's day.

He is preceded in death by his parents; his wife, Wanda; son, Stephen Ross; and a daughter, Kimberly Dawn.

Ross is survived by one son Kenneth D. Davis Sr. of Fort Worth; granddaughter, Amber Davis of Fort Worth, Kenneth D. Davis Jr. and wife, Lindsey, of Fort Worth. Visitation for family and friends will be held from 6:00-8:00 pm on Friday, March 24, 2017 at Lange Funeral Home in Ballinger. The memorial service will be Saturday, March 25, 2017 at 10:00 AM at Lange Funeral Home and he will be laid to rest in Evergreen cemetery.

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I always enjoy hearing from DOTTIE BISHOP ROGERS. She answered my recent email with the following update on her activities.

"Sooo happy to hear from you! I am okay though at the time my leg is in a brace. (I tripped over an electrical cord while cleaning my shop. I think I knocked a hole in the concrete!! But, I did injure my knee. It damaged and sprang the mid ligament and will take 4-6 weeks to heal.) I have about quit golf. I play once a month in the scrambles, but don't enjoy it like I did when I could play every day. Since our course closed, our groups have become traveling teams and I am not able to do that. Therefore, my game went to you know where. Having been a pretty good golfer, seeing my game get so bad, I have quit. I did change my garage into a woodworking shop. I am refurbishing furniture, making cute signs, building barn wood picture frames, and decorating wine bottles. 

My family is doing really well. My son Greg finished the pilot for the TV show but so far, it hasn't been picked up by a network. His welding business is getting huge and hiring men left and right. My

daughter and her husband are looking forward to retirement next year when their youngest graduates. He is looking forward to going to Colorado and work for my bonus son who is in the oil business there. My son in Texas is doing great even though recently he cut off a finger then fell and broke his hand. I always tease him about the infamous "black cloud" that seems to follow him. I still paint and have 3 pics in a show in Tombstone and 2 in a show at Cochise College. I still call myself a beginner and am trying to improve.  

Larry and I are still close as ever. He is such a wonderful guy. We make a good team since both of us are so independent. He is the one who has gotten me started in woodwork. The once a month I play golf is for him. He is still an avid golfer. He just got new clubs a couple of days ago-he trades up every year with Taylor Made. Yada yada yada. Seriously, he takes care of me when my kids will let him. He is a very stoic Norwegian (except with me). I have given up and got a tablet for Facebook and Messenger - mainly for my grandkids and greats who live in other states. (I now have 13 great-grandchildren. Shriek!!) Must run. We'll gab again soon."  Dottie

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DOTTIE appears to have a lot in common with at least two of our classmates. JIM COWLISHAW wrote a while back that he was doing some woodworking himself. I believe he told me at the time he was making those lovely wooden fountain pens you see at craft fairs. 

Another hobby DOTTIE shares with a classmate is golf! (There may be more of you out there who share this activity with her.) TRUMAN CONNER is planning a trip the first week in April to Palm Springs, California to play some serious golf.

When he returns, he will join MARTHA NORTHINGTON and me for lunch at my place. We planned this for a couple of weeks ago, but MARTHA was finally getting the management to replace 3 sets of French doors in her apartment -- and of course, it happened the day we were going to get together.  I'm looking forward to their visit, as they are among the greatest conversationalists I know. And, of course, they both have had fascinating careers.

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In a previous blog I wrote that DENNY (Professor C. DENSON HILL, PhD) had been invited to a prestigious dinner in Warsaw. Here he is with a group, including the President of Poland, Andrzej Duda, at a brunch in the Winter Garden of the presidential palace, following an award ceremony for Polish and British physicists. The British ambassador and Vice-Prime Minister of Poland/Minister of Science were also there.

That's DENNY on the far right. I didn't recognize him at first, as he has his hair pulled back in a pony tail! The President is second from the left.

DENNY often tells me of his dismay (to put it mildly) with our Texas politics. (Especially when he is in Europe and everyone asks him about us when they discover he is from Texas). The following is part of a discussion he and I were having a few months back about the people in our state and Louisiana that manage to keep them "Red" states. This is true of many southern states.

"For a number of years, before my mother died, I was traveling 5 or 6 times a year to see her...so I was often taking flights between Atlanta and Shreveport. I was constantly in amazement at the conversations I was having with my fellow travelers.

It was not that they were genetically stupid, quite the contrary, as many of them worked in situations that required considerable know how. But often when talking to them, they appeared to be so misinformed as to what was actually going on in the US, or in the world, as to make them seem to be idiots.

None of them seemed to understand the basic bait and switch technique which was being used against them: they had been persuaded to vote for people who promised to deliver something better for them, while the truth is that after these people were elected, they invariably switched to a stance which totally screwed the working class, and enhanced only the rich. I never understood this.

Could it be largely the fault of 'talk radio'? Or something else? If so, then what?" 

Maybe FOX News or Breitbart News? I wish I knew, DENNY. Obviously, you didn't speak to any in my circle of friends.

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On June 1st of this year, 60 years ago, a wedding took place. JUNE HASH married Grady Curry. Do you all recognize the lovely ladies on the left?

Until next time, why not send me the "good stuff" happening in your life? 

Peace and Love,

Marilyn

CLASSMATE NEWS

 (I had an incorrect caption on the previous photo of Denny. Here he is

near his favorite pub. talking to a Hell's Angel. A Hell's Angel? In Warsaw? Anyway, the other photo depicted a Belgium beer pub. He does NOT like Belgium beer.)

Like so many of us, DENNY HILL told me quite awhile back that he was totally disgusted with the presidential campaign, and like I (until this past week), he was avoiding all U.S. news until after the election. I emailed him to see how he is doing with his news fast. It's always a delight to hear from him. He must lead the most interesting of lives of all our classmates. Here is what Denny said in response to my inquiry:

"I am holding up fine, with my head buried in the sand up to my shoulders. However on Tuesday night I am to gather with three friends at a neighbor's house for a dinner, with very good wine, to watch the returns. I would just as happily skip the whole mess until the next day, but these friends are interesting, the host is a great cook, so I will go and enjoy myself. None of us expect Trump to win. The only issue is what happens in the Senate and House."

Warsaw Presidential Palace
(Remind you of Runnels Co. Courthouse & Noyes Statue?)

"One other thing, independent of the election, is that I think I am developing an allergy to teaching...at least this semester. I am counting down the weeks until I can get out of here...and I just want it to be over. Luckily this semester I have a good excuse to cut out a little earlier than normal: on Dec 6 I will be on a plane to Warsaw, arriving on the 7th, in time to overcome jet lag and be in good shape to attend a party on Friday night, Dec 9. On that day there will be a dinner/party in the Presidential Palace in Warsaw with the President of Poland, and I am among the invited. That probably will not happen again, so I decided to go."

I have asked Denny (C. DENSON HILL, PhD) who else is attending this dinner, as it appears to be one honoring special people. He has not answered me, maybe he's a little hesitant as it might appear he is bragging. Regardless, we are very proud of you, Denny.

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TRUMAN CONNER runs a close second at leading an interesting life. He travels frequently to interesting places -- just not to Europe. Truman's next trip is planned to Sedona, Arizona. It's always fun to hear from Truman as well. I'm so happy we finally caught up with him. We share many interests, and because both my sons -and now my youngest grandson -- are avid golfers, as Truman is, I can share their stories. Hey, Truman. DOTTIE BISHOP ROGERS lives in Arizona, and she also loves to golf. Maybe you can manage a visit with her during your trip.

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You all know what tomorrow is, so if you haven't done so already, please get out and vote your conscience. Never has there been an election more important -- or stressful as this one. Over 50% of Americans said they are stressed out by the campaign. Just one more day folks.

Let me hear your good stuff that's happening.

Peace and love,

Marilyn

CONDOLENCES FOR A CLASSMATE

VIRGINIA EGAN informed me that ROSALYN'S husband Nolan passed away yesterday. As soon as an obituary is available, I will post it here.

Nolan and Rosalyn Hoelscher

50th Wedding Anniversary

This past August ROSALYN URBANTKE and Nolan HOELSCHER had been married for 58 years. Last December ROSALYN wrote that Nolan was in a Hospice Home, and was paralyzed and unable to speak to her. I wrote and inquired about his condition in May, but I never received a reply. At the time, I felt she was spending her time with Nolan, and not on the internet. These past few months must have been extremely difficult for ROSALYN and their family. Please join me in sending loving thoughts and prayers of comfort to them.

Peace and love,

Marilyn

AN HONEST MAN

A little story from long ago, submitted by NANCY THOMPSON BAKER:

"Back when Jake still had hair, he was sitting in the barber shop waiting for a haircut. A man came in looking for something he had lost out of his pocket -- his wife's diamond ring. After Jake got into the chair he spotted something outside that he thought looked like a Coke can tab. As he left he picked it up. It was the ring. He took it to a friend who worked nearby, and she located the man looking for it. 

(Nancy collects teddy bears.)

The following day I received a dozen red roses with a card attached saying, "To the woman who lives with an honest man!" This just happened to be my birthday, August 20, 1974. It was signed O.C. Davis.

I found the card in a drawer today."

I asked NANCY if she or Jake knew the man. 

"No. I don't think he was from Ballinger. He was visiting relatives or someone. He was taking his wife's ring in to have the prongs checked, and had put it in his pocket."

Not only is Jake an "honest man", but they have been married for almost 60 years! 

Roses to both of you, NAN!

Peace and love,

Marilyn

EARTHQUAKES, GOLF COURSES, AND MORE

"60 Minutes" did a segment last night on the rise in the number of earthquakes in Oklahoma over the past two years. There have been over 2,000  3.0+ magnitude quakes. They interviewed a couple of women from Edmond, which is where our classmate JUNE CURRY lives. When this was previewed, I contacted JUNE. This is what she had to say:

"That number doesn't surprise me at all as more earthquakes are announced almost daily. I live on the Northwest side of Oklahoma City with an Edmond address, on the outskirts of Edmond itself. It's very 

beautiful here, but there have been an enormous amount of homes badly damaged by these earthquakes, and the homeowners are up in arms at the local oil and gas companies that they feel are contributing to these events.

We have felt a few of these earthquakes, but we thank God that so far we have had no damage from them nor has my other son at his home. I feel so badly for the people who have had so much damage and almost no help from the earthquake insurance people in repairing their homes. It is almost impossible to prove to them that the damage is earthquake caused, according to the media reports.

I must say though that when you do not have an earthquake, tornado, hail, ice storm or blizzard, this is a truly beautiful place to live. (Ha Ha Ha)."

JUNE and I commiserate back and forth when weather threatens our safety. However, earthquakes usually give no warning. As I worked for FEMA several years through several earthquakes and their aftermath, I don't think I could show the sense of humor portrayed by JUNE. 

As the insurance companies will pay for "act of God" earthquakes, and they are refusing to pay off on the current ones, this means they, too, believe the oil and gas companies are at fault - not God. The technology certainly seems to show that their pumping all that waste water back into the earth is the cause of the recent earthquakes. As a homeowner, I think I would go after the oil and gas industry for damages to my property.

JUNE says her new knee is working like it's supposed to -- and no pain!

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(Pebble Beach Golf Course)

When I was putting together our autobiographical handbook, I often had to coax information from some of you. You are more interesting than you would lead us to believe. Such is the case with another of our classmates who emerged out of the past recently. I've got a few more items of interest from TRUMAN CONNER. One of which is his golfing hobby. My son Matthew was green with envy when I read him a list of golf courses that TRUMAN has played on over the years. "..They would include, Pebble Beach, Spyglass Hill, both on the California Monterrey Peninsula. Others would include Riviera CC (Los Angeles) Olympia Fields CC (Chicago) TPC Stadium Course Olympic (Palm Springs), Olympic Club (San Francisco) Kapalua, (Maui, HI).  Will not bore you with others, except to say that many or all of these golf courses held either US Open Championships or are regular PGA Tour sites.  I expect Matthew would recognize them.  Non-golfers wouldn't give a rip and can't blame them for that."

TRUMAN mentioned he liked to travel, but mostly in the U.S. "...NYC, Boston, Chicago, New Orleans, Miami, et al, many times on business.  Never wanted to go to Europe like Denny Hill though. The idea of a 14 hour plane ride was always a deal breaker for me. I am going to Washington DC next month.  It is the most interesting city I have ever visited."

The first information I got out of TRUMAN in the way of a biography, indicated he worked for Levi Strauss for nearly 40-years before retiring. I figured he might own the company in that length of time. Not so, he wrote:

"My degree from TCU was in finance.  There isn't a great deal of glitter in my life compared to others in our class. I had a great career at Levi's although not at the CEO level (thanks for the thought). I worked in Levi's financial division with a focus on financial analysis of some very large corporate accounts, and I occasionally served on Chapter 11 bankruptcy committees when things got really interesting, and it often entailed long and tiring cross country flights, sometimes weekly."

Come to think of it, TRUMAN, you were working for Levi's in 1989, when the huge San Francisco earthquake hit. That was the year I went to work for FEMA. I heard Dan Rather on the evening news say that FEMA needed help in Denton, Texas working with the victims of the quake. I thought I was volunteering when I went in that evening to sign up. They put all of us on the telephone that night after about a 30-minute training session. This was the first time they had tried telecommunications for aiding disaster victims. When I left 5-years later, they were in beautiful new quarters, and were in the process of going online with the applications for assistance.

Were you affected at all by the '89 earthquake, TRUMAN?

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Occasionally, I realize I haven't heard from one of my "regulars" in a while so I contact them. PATI COCKRELL PRITCHARD sent a photo of her new granddaughter a few months back, then dropped off the grid. Here is her reply when I inquired how she was doing:

"I'm still working full time (darn, the other grandmother gets all the drop off baby sitting) but, I can fund her college accounts better than I could if I DIDN'T work! Gene has finally cut back to working only 3 days a week. We're both in good health and I think it helps me to stay active.

GRANDbaby is just GRAND!!! She was 9 months old April 27th and running her big people ragged! Loving her to pieces and enjoy hearing my daughter say 'I never appreciated all you did'. Yahoo!"

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GLENN SMITH is still recuperating at home. He has a young friend from Uruguay staying with him and helping him. He said he can get around some with a walker. The last I heard from him was four days ago when he wrote, "..staples came out today. X-rays show that femur break 2 inches below left hip is repairing perfectly. No socket replacement was needed.

Several friends have visited. Some have brought meals." 

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NANCY THOMPSON BAKER wrote that she and hubby Jake are doing well at home, with Home Health assisting with Jake's recovery from the dreadful blood infection he suffered a while back. NANCY said her feet are healed as well.

You know, from the reports I've received from our "patients" both here and among my other friends, all of the requested prayers and good thoughts and wishes have been answered. Hallelujah!

Much love and peace to you all,

Marilyn

SMOKEY AND THE FARM BOYS

Editor: Going over some of my posts written on my personal blog, I ran across this one that was published 5-years ago. I got a kick out of reading it again, and thought you might, too. GLENN, this is for you! Marilyn



My next guest column is also written by a former classmate from Ballinger High School, Glenn Smith. I presumed to title it for him:

SMOKEY AND THE FARM BOYS

"June Hash Curry and Marilyn Moragne have reminisced about how each of them had auto accidents in the 1950s that they miraculously survived. That got me thinking about an incident in 1955 when I should have died but did not. All this has to do with growing up around Ballinger in Runnels County, Texas.

It was a Saturday. My father took my fourteen-year-old nephew, John, and me to a field where he wanted to construct an electric fence so cows could graze on a part of the five foot high sorghum there. We helped him stretch a single strand of new barbed wire which was anchored around a tall, creosoted power line pole about two hundred yards into the field. The wire sloped gradually from where it was tied around the high-line pole about forty inches above ground until it lay flat on the ground about fifty yards from the pole. From there it went to the edge of the field and joined another fence. The next step was to support the wire by attaching it to an insulated pole every ten feet.

John was driving my father's light blue F100 pickup. I was riding a mare named Smokey, trailing a lariat from the saddle horn. My father was at a pile of metal posts about a hundred yards from where the taut wire rested nearly buried in the loose dirt. The plan was for me to drag a post behind the mare from the distant pile to its place along the wire. My nephew's task was to back the pickup into place so my father could stand in its bed and sledge hammer each long post about three feet into the earth.

What happened next makes no sense, but for some reason it happened anyway. I had delivered two posts and was nearly back to the supply pile for a third. John was supremely bored waiting. I was bored myself. Smokey must have been bored also. Suddenly John leaned out of the pickup window and yelled DRAG! He tromped on the accelerator and without rational thought I touched my heels to the mare's flanks. Smokey's ears went flat and she shot forward, all her attention on winning. She beat the truck handily. We were in afterburner mode. No horse ever ran as fast or liked doing it as much as she did at that moment. Problem was we were headed toward the point where the tightly stretched barbed wire was still about three feet above the dirt. My eye caught a flash of the new wire. Time exploded and went to zero simultaneously. Smoky was upside down in a forward airborne roll. I consciously dropped the reins, pulled my feet from the stirrups. The lights went out.

I came to with my father kneeling over me. I had landed on my head, but Smokey hit the ground a little past where I hit. The wire had stretched impossibly but it did not break. Smokey had deep cuts on her upper shoulders. She stood still, bleeding.

My neck should have been broken. Instead I walked half a mile to the house. My father kept working. Frank Smith didn't leave work for anything.

By usual standards for treating horses, Smokey would have been put down that afternoon. But her owner, John's father, tenderly nursed her back to health. I never rode her again. I could have but didn't feel I had the right. I was ashamed of letting her get hurt for no good reason at all.

(Elm Creek at Ballinger, Texas)

Nearly four years later, Elm Creek (which ran through our farm) got up from strong rains. My dad and mother drove the Ford pickup to the bottom land to move cows to high ground. I was in Abilene at college. My father crossed a ravine that was where Elm Creek had once flowed before it changed course. He got trapped as a wall of water poured down in a torrent about ten feet deep. My mother had never learned to swim and my dad could only dog paddle. He was wearing work boots and overalls and was in the raging water while hanging onto a mesquite sapling. Mom drove as fast as she could and found my brother-in-law. He saddled Smokey, rode hard, plunged the mare into the fast flowing water upstream from where my dad was barely still hanging on. Dad said later that he had decided to turn loose knowing he would drown. As Smokey swam past him—the bank was too steep and too muddy for her to get out—my father grabbed on to the back of the saddle. Smokey swam with him and my brother-in-law downstream, then out to safety.

The spirited mare lived many years after that. She died in her mid-twenties.

I'm not sure what the moral is of these stories. We did things that kids today don’t usually do. But we weren't trying to be daredevils. If anything we were trying to live like the Cleavers, June and Ward and Wally and Beaver. Maybe our happenings got a little closer to the edge some times, but we didn't intend them to. As my father's mother always said of her Texas life, 'we done the best we could with what we had.' We did at that, didn't we?"

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A horse is a horse, a horse of course -- except when it is a means of transportation? Yesterday I laughed out loud when I read the following news item online. This was on Austin's KXAN.com news site, written by Pamela Cosel: 

"Is it DWI if you're on a horse?"

"It wasn't necessarily a scene from a movie, but it might have been. Two men, each dressed in cowboy hats and chaps -- one on a horse, the other riding a donkey -- were arrested for public intoxication on Friday just before 11 p.m. An Austin police officer saw Jose Federico, 33, on a brown mule with white spots, along with Samuel Olivo, Jr., 49, on a horse in Downtown Austin.

The two riders were stopped in the right lane of traffic, according to the arrest affidavit, and cars were having to drive around them. Police said the two men were calling pedestrians off of the sidewalk and into the street to take pictures and pet the animals. This endangered the pedestrians because the street was open to passing vehicles.

APD conducted a sobriety test on the men and determined they were drunk after seeing they had glassy, watery eyes; stumbling, staggering and swaying; couldn't turn properly; fell off the line and had an odor of alcohol about them. Rios said he'd taken antibiotics when asked about drugs, according to the report, and also said he drank two vodka-and-cranberry drinks. (Editor: THIS is a COWBOY'S drink?) The charge was first listed as driving while intoxicated (DWI), but changed to public intoxication, according to APD. Bail was set at $2,000.

It is not known how the animals responded to the hoopla."

I know how I responded .. gales of laughter at the imagery as I read this. I'll bet the animals were embarrassed.

Smile. It makes you feel better and look good!

Peace and love,
Marilyn