TV has been saturated with coverage of the 9/11 anniversary for the past few days, but especially today (Sun. 9/11/11).  I have watched some of it and have learned some very interesting things.   I really do not see how the powers that be can find anything else to cover about this tragedy.  There have been shows about every facet of this event…there just can not be anything else that is not known.  But, of course, I know there could be.  It still angers me when I think of what ordinary people had to endure at the hands of these terrorists.  It is inhuman.  And, they will pay.  Nothing is hidden from our Lord.

So, are the big news stories and the deaths of famous people images that stay with us for a lifetime?  Do you remember where you were when you heard about the deaths of Martin Luther King, or President Kennedy, the moon landing or  the Challenger disaster or Princess Diana, or 9/11?  Here are a few of my thoughts and memories of these events.  These were actually the ones I could recall…so I guess these were the only ones that impacted me.

 NOVEMBER  1963

I was 10 years old and in either 3rd or 4th grade at Grandview Elementary School here in Dothan.  This was before much technology was available in the schools, but my Mom had been PTA president and the PTA had bought a TV for each classroom.  In the mornings, we would do a handwriting exercise with a teacher on the AL Public TV station.  But, that was about all we would use it because there were not even VCR’s then.  But, our principal, Mrs. Ruby Cherry, (who just loved my Mom and told her every little thing I ever did) came hurrying into the room and told the teacher to turn the television on right away, and fix it so the children could watch.  But, she didn’t say why.  My teacher did as she was asked, and the news came on about the shooting.  We watched the rest of the day.  The teachers were all undone and had very worried looks on their faces.  I do not think we really understood the importance of what had happened.  I mean, we were only 10.  Do the children who are 10 years old these days have a better grasp of world events?  Do they understand more about the unsettling events that are happening around us?  That was still a time of innocence for us.  But, we watched that TV for days…until he was buried.  And then some.  It was over our heads, really.  I remember my teachers saying, when we would ask to do something else, “Don’t you realize that you are watching HISTORY?   This will be in all the history books, and you can see it happening!”  Mrs. Cherry, the principal,(who just loved my Mom and never let me get away with anything)  said to me, “I am so thankful your Mom and the PTA got us those TV’s!”  And, that made me proud.  Because of Mom, I watched history happening…even if I wasn’t  really thankful until years later.

APRIL 1968

I remember Martin Luther King, Jr. as a man who fought for civil rights.   I lived in the South, and all this racial unrest was happening all around me.  It always made me feel uneasy.  But, at my age, I really did not have a good grasp on what all this really meant.  Perhaps I led a sheltered life in this respect. I knew lots of ‘colored people’, and I thought they were just like me except their skin was darker.  I didn’t know why there was a problem.  We had a wonderful lady who worked for us and Joy and I loved her.  She was an honored guest at my wedding.   I knew about the march in Selma, AL in 1965.  And, I knew Rev. King’s death was very tragic.  He died in a motel room balcony in  Memphis, Tenn., from an assassin’s bullet.  He promoted non-violence, and I remember thinking how sad it was that he was killed in such a violent manner.  I also remember seeing pictures of his wife and family as they mourned his loss.  Even though it all wasn’t clear in my mind, I remember feeling very sad…very sad.

JULY 1969

I do not remember much leading up to this mission, though I am sure there must have been lots of press about it.  My boyfriend, Donald, graduated from high school that year and there was so much going on…you know…prom, baccalaureate, graduation, parties, him leaving for college, etc.  [And, actually, no authority figure in my life told me to sit down and pay attention to the news because I could be watching history.  And, I can for sure say that it was in the history books the next year!]  So…how was I to know? Here’s what I do remember:  I was over at Don’s house, and we were going out to eat.  We were waiting on his mother to iron a shirt for him to wear.  His dad was in the den, and was quite engrossed in the program.  He shouted, “Y’all come in here and watch this.” So, we did.  And, we watched as Neil Armstrong took his first step onto the moon’s surface.  We watched for a little while, and then we saw him put out a flag.

I saw this and remember thinking that this was probably a ‘big deal’…but, our friends were waiting for us, so we had to go.  Oh, well.  Priorities, people!  Come on now, you were probably the same way if you were 16!  But, I had plenty of time to watch it happening again…because they played it over and over and over for days!  I did think of this, I remember….as we walked out to the car to leave his house, we looked up at the moon and it just did not seem possible that real human people could be walking on that same moon!  Then Don took that opportunity to give me a quick kiss and there went that thought!

It wasn’t long before there began to be talk around town that it was all a hoax.  Now, let me be perfectly honest.  I live in the deep South…real deep.  There’s lots of ‘good ole boys’ and (I don’t know how to say this in any other nicer way,) and they know what they know and that’s all they know…or want to know.  God love ’em.  And if they thought it didn’t happen…well…it didn’t. And me or you or the government or the President would not convince them it really did. And they told the ‘good ole girls, and the ‘good ole kids’…and thus, it was written.  Bless their little hearts.  Actually,  it was talked about all over the country, not just around these parts.  I guess that means there are ‘good ole folks’ all over!  God bless us all!

I wasn’t friends with those ‘good ole folks’ and I could read all the information.  And, this little 10th grader, worried about parties, and boyfriends, and cute clothes knew enough to know that it was for real!  Even if she didn’t recognize it as ‘historical’ at the time!

JANUARY 1986

Again with the space travel!  But, this time, I was better able to appreciate the fact that a mere mortal…a school teacher, was going up into space with the astronauts.  Now this captured the attention of the world. Here I thought it took years and years of training and probably tons of math…and now they say they can pick Mrs. Ordinary Teacher and in 8 months, teach her to go into space.  WOW!  I couldn’t even learn geometry in 2 years!!

What smart PR by NASA.  Everyone, even down to the youngest school child,was preparing to watch the launch and then watch Mrs. McAuliff’s lessons from space. School children everywhere were watching at school.  Forty eight percent of all school children were watching the launch!  She had a family…husband and children, siblings and parents.  They were all there to watch.  There was almost a festival atmosphere.  When the whole team came walking out together, and waved, and walked to the craft…there was such an air of excitement.  I remember sitting at home and watching in the hours that led up to the launch.  I saw her parents and family escorted to a seat of honor with the best view available.  And, the countdown began, and the launch began.  And at 73 seconds into the flight…disaster.

I remember seeing the face of McAuliff’s mother and father as they watched the shuttle with their daughter inside.  This was grief fully exposed.  It was horrible.

There were reports and commissions and inquiries and guesses at the reasons this happened.  I just reread the report on Wikipedia, because I had forgotten a lot of the details.  The memories of the explosion and before are still vivid, however.  My boys came in from school as I was watching, eager to tell me what they had seen, as well.  We sat and watched together for a long time.  I told them,” You are watching history unfold.  This will be in your next history books.”  And, it was.

The final reports said that the Challenger should never have taken off in the extreme cold.  The O-rings failed.  But, the major cause, reports said, was the failure of those in charge to properly relay information that was crucial to the safety of the missions.  Human Error!  The reports also said that, at least some, and probably all, of the astronauts, were alive when the cockpit hit the ocean. That was and still is a horrible thing to think about.  The remains of all the astronauts were found in the intact capsule on the ocean floor, and all were buried.  The American flag aboard the flight was also recovered.

The most vivid memories…the crew walking to the ship…the face of McAuliff’s parents…and the words of President Reagan as he said, “We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of Earth’ to ‘touch the face of God.’

TO BE CONTINUED…..

One day, I will have a beach house.

I am blessed to live in south AL which is next to North FL. The beach we usually go to is Panama City Beach.
which is about 80 miles away.Then there is Destin, a little more upscale, but equally as beautiful. I swear, when I cross the state line from AL to FL, I can begin to feel the pull of the beach. Even the dirt looks different…there is sand mixed into it–stretching the shore of the great ocean as far as possible.

This is my great desire. I want to lay my head down for as long as I choose in my own beach house. I do
not want to stay in a motel and have to check out by noon. I do not want to pack my clothes in a suitcase
to take home. I want to wait until I’m good and ready to leave. I want a place to leave my clothes, so
when I come back, my softest shorts and loosest top and my old flip-flops are there and waiting for
me–like old friends.

It seems easier to make plans and talk of the future when we are staring at a far horizon with endless
waves in front of it. Tomorrow seems very far away. It is easier to talk of insignificant things. They
can just fly away on the wind, if need be. It is easier to just be together without saying a word–both
listening to the roar of the waves and the calling of the gulls…..minds full of things to say…..but
not wanting to stop the concert going on around us.

It’s alot about the water which surrounds you wherever you may find yourself. It’s not at all like a dip in the
pool…which starts and ends…you get in and you get out and you walk away, without so much as a
thought, until you want to dive in again. But, the ocean is different…it surrounds you with itself.
Through the windows of the shops and the balconies of the hotels, or the open-air decks of the
restaurants, the ocean glistens in the distance. You can’t escape if you are anywhere near. As you drive,
and if you need to look at a map, there is a curved piece of white land and then lots of
blue to indicate where the land stops and the ocean begins.. i like to be just that close to the blue.
I can breathe here…and think. But, not just think–think through. Is it the cool wind that blows
that clears my mind? Or does the sun just bake my cares away? Mystery, that.

There is the sand. Most beaches do not have this kind of sand. Not even on my beloved Maui. The sand
there is more akin to dirt…brownish dirt…with sticks in it. But, here in Florida, along the Emerald
Coast, it’s different. Here the sand is white, and its texture is like fine sugar. It is so soft and
flies on the breeze like a powder. It is soft…and squishy to walk on…until it gets wet…then it is
rock hard. You can walk and walk and walk on this wet sand as you stroll near the breaking waves. Piers
and hotels and sandcastles fade from view as you walk. And when you stop…you can’t believe how
far you’ve traveled. When you return and take a shower for the day…you will notice how soft and smooth
your feet are. Great exfoliator, this sand!

It will not matter what kind of place I can find. The outside may look forlorn and the furniture may be a
little shabby. (That’s chic, you know). The floor boards may creak and the walls may be in need of paint.
Matters not. For the show is outside. Inside is the place that holds your belongings…of which you
need little. Inside holds a bed for sleeping. But, it’s outside where the beach ‘happens’. Outside is where
the beauty is.  Outside is where the air is full of salt and spray. Outside is where the Creator sketches
and paints another masterpiece in the sky each evening. Each is more beautiful than the last. Outside is
where the breeze is like no other. For this wind comes from far away places…far across the sea…far
beyond the horizon. And, whispered into this wind are the dreams and hopes and wishes and prayers that
are made by millions just like me. And, they are blown first to this shore and then to that. Listen!
You can almost hear them! Feel free to add your own…it never fills up.

My little cottage…oh, how I’ll fix that little place up! I’ll bring in driftwood and shells…lots of shells. And, the ones that have little holes in them will be strung to make huge mobiles that I’ll hang from the ceilings. Maybe I’ll find some of those colored glass balls that wash ashore at times. And, there will be art. Beautiful pictures taken of beaches around the world…some made by me. Because, surely this feeling I feel is felt by women elsewhere. This wanting a place to escape to…a place of clean air and cool sand and the sound of waves…it has to be a universal desire…there are beaches and oceans and people the world over. Surely they are all dreamt over.

This sea is vast….and this wind goes on forever. And, this sunshine bakes it all to just the right doneness
so it is perfection for whomever comes to walk its sandy shore and wet their toes in the waves as they lap
at the shore. The sea….it is miraculous!

Oh, don’t be sad, sweet Maui. You own my soul. You are the place I am the most alive. My love for you
is still true…even if your sand is not the best. But, let’s be honest here. Even dreams need to have
a little dose of reality. The chances of my ever living on YOUR shores are very, very slim. I do not
ever think it could happen. But, it could be possible for me to have a shanty in FL. Not likely…but
closer to reality. So, I’ll dream in possibilities and promise to visit you, sweet Maui, as often as is
possible.

One day, I will have a beach house…and I shall be content.

Oh, yes it was.  And, memories I had not thought of in many years, came flooding back.  Good memories…but not the kind I ever want to go back to.  But, sweet nonetheless. Last evening, we had the pleasure of hosting Don’s roommate, Garry, and his friend, Susan at our home for a lovely dinner and a nice, long visit.  Even though Don and Garry have kept up with each other through the years, I had not seen him long enough to visit in a long, long time.   Don and I do not talk much about those days anymore, but Don, Garry and I were all in college in Birmingham, they lived off campus and me, on campus.     This was a Baptist College in the early and mid 1970’s.  Strict, chauvinistic, typical.  Only boys could live off campus and only after their freshman year…girls had a 10:00 curfew during the week, Friday -11:oo, and Saturday- 11:30.  This was written in the cornerstone of the buildings and was the law.  Bad news if you were late.  The doors to the main door of the dorm were locked at curfew.  If you were late , this is the  ordeal you had to endure to get back into YOUR own dorm room which YOUR parent’s spent THEIR hard earned money for…

First, you had to stop by the little pretend police stations at the front gates of the campus…. they had big gates that were locked there, as well, at curfew and there were 2 little huts built onto the ends of the gates where the  sentinels sat.  There you had to give them your name and your life’s history and then they would call the dorm  keeper to see if you were actually still out.  (You were standing there right in front of them, but obviously they had been taught that you could possibly be a figment of their imagination, a ghostly sort of apparition of yourself who would try to trick them at odd hours of the night.)

If the dorm warden discovered you were indeed not in your tiny little twin bed in your tiny little room designed to hold one bed, but unfortunately holding 3!……then the bouncers at the front gates would ESCORT you and your unfortunate date to your dorm……..

……..The dorm defender of female virtue would be waiting at the bottom of the stairs (usually in pajamas and robe) and you had to go in – BY YOURSELF- and be interrogated.  All the time she would be busy making notes to put in the mail to your parents the next morning.  Your date was left in the control of the gate guardian and what happened next was never spoken of .  But, I heard it included getting points taken off of some kind of important records.  The rest was probably too hideous to mention.  If, however, your date had the good fortunate to NOT be a student at the same university…he just gave a jaunty wave to the gate watchers,  and drove on his merry way…living to date again.  You could be sure, however, that he never bothered to date a girl from the GATED COMMUNITY UNIVERSITY……FOR THE SAKE OF JOURNALISTIC FAIRNESS…..These accounts are mostly HERESAY …not first-hand information.

…….If you went home for the weekend…you had to let the dorm  mistress know…and  if, perchance, you happened to head for home immediately after your last class on Friday and forget to go by and sign out….well, kiss some more points goodbye..and you would forever be known as ‘that girl who forgot to sign out for the weekend and sent her dorm granny into a tizzy’!   You’d also better be back by check in time on Sunday afternoon, or the whole dorm would explode!  They would call and see when you left home and when you should have arrived and made notations of the differences in the two.  You could just forget stopping at the big mall in Montgomery and shopping a little.  Points!  Gotta keep those points!

I was very conscious of ‘the rules’ and did my best to follow them exactly.  But, some girls just wanted to live a life of danger and excitement.  Why, I heard some of the girls had even found a way of escaping all that gate nonsense and would just sneak back in the dorm through a conveniently unlocked window…left so by an accomplice on the inside!  Can you imagine?  I never knew any of these girls personally, you understand.  I belonged to the GIRL’S OBEYING AND LIVING WITHIN THE GUIDELINES SET DOWN BY THE UNIVERSITY CLUB.   And, I still do not understand why I found several points had been taken off my records at the end of every year! But I digress……. Don and Garry were roommates…but more than that, they were friends.  I suppose they would have to be to put up with each other.  They were as opposite looking as possible.  Don-tall, very thin and dark complexion…Garry-short, blond hair and fair complexion.  Yes they did make a striking sight walking across campus!

And, oh, my!  OH, MY! the place they lived was unreal.  It was in the basement of a widow woman’s home.  Not a renovated basement.  Just a basement.  Not insulated, a concrete floor, and, as I remember, there weren’t walls in places.  There was just barely a bathroom.  It was cold.  It was damp.  It was dirty, just by virtue of the fact that it was a basement…and not a basement that was intended to be inhabited by humans!  I went there once or twice, and we were all in school for 4 years.  Once or twice was enough.

Do you know what a mole cricket is?  I quote…………………”They are big, awful looking (to a girl) insects about 2 inches long, with large beady eyes and shovel-like forelimbs highly developed for burrowing and swimming.  They can also FLY!!! They are active most of the year.  They are also omnivores, feeding on larvae, worms, roots, and grasses.  They are nocturnal, and spend nearly all their lives underground in extensive tunnel systems ”  Wikipedia…(pink words and exclamations are mine)……………………..  That’s what they are supposed to do.  The time or two I was there, I saw them. Yes, I did.  FLYING, they were!  But, the thing that struck terror into my heart was hearing Garry and Don talk about how when they would turn the light off, and it would get quiet…you could hear them crunching and eating and crawling and digging all night!  Does that send shivers down your spine?  That is like a horror movie to me.  I had forgotten about those things until they reminded me again Saturday night.

Garry and his girlfriend, Vickie, and Don and I had some fun and veeeeeery interesting times.  It was all we girls could do to go to school and keep our eyes on them.  Sometimes they would tend to veer off the straight and narrow.  But, we would drag them back on, and wait for the next time…wondering all the time if we should maybe just run for our lives!  Eventually Vickie and Garry married and moved into a cute little duplex in Mountain Brook…the kind of place that nice boys live in…NO mole crickets!    Don moved into a nicer place…but it was still in a basement.  And , then Don and I married.  And, we did NOT live in a basement!  We all finished school, and they moved to Montgomery, which was Garry’s home, and we moved back home to Dothan.  Lots of things have changed for them both, but they have maintained their friendship through the years.  We would visit back and forth since we were just 100 miles away, but life gets busy and kids come along and we drifted apart, but Don and Garry have still talked all along.  I found a cute picture of our Adam and Garry and Vickie’s 3 children, Ashley, Alyssa and Amy when they came to visit us once.  This must have been around 1980-ish.

We talked of many things, as we visited, and remembered more things as we talked.  I think that when you live an important part of your life with a friend…you are forever joined.  The memories of the experiences and the memories of the friendship become one in the same.  You can not think of one without thinking of the other.  New situations and life experiences are not nearly so intimidating when shared with a friend.  And, growing through situations tends to bind you together.  And, makes a boy into a man.

Found a lot of pics from ‘way back’ at Southside Baptist Church.  I have tried to add the names of those I remember.  If I’m wrong or you know the ones I don’t, please add in comments.  These children were filled with fun and smarts and play and potential.  And, most all are fulfilling that potential.  Two are living with Jesus now, and at least one is disabled and homebound.  Some are building careers, some are involved in church work, leading other young people, some are married with children of their own.  These new parents want for their little ones the same thing we parents wanted for them…health, happiness, love.   I pray that they always remember the foundation for life starts in God’s word, and raise their children as they were…learning to live their lives following God’s rules.

This is just a few that I ran across…I have sooooo many more…..somewhere !  Hope you enjoy!

Clarke………Joy, Eloise. Russ, Alex

This picture was made at a Western- themed banquet at SBC.  Phyllis Walker, Mrs. Spinks, Tonja Townsend….the yound man in background is Durwood Skipper.

A beach youth trip while I was Interim Youth Director…

Heather…….Hannah, Karen, Leigh, Leanne…………………..Justin, Adam, Keith, Tyler, Ian

Joseph, Rebekah, Seth………

These girls were at my house for a mission study…around 1979-80…Stephanie, Suzanne, Michelle, Beth,     Adam and Mom