Driving into Portland the profusion of color was beyond belief! It’s as though the earth had burst open with color! Never had we seen so many rhododendrons in such variety of colors! We weren’t sure we’d meet our host but she was just getting ready to leave as we pulled up. She showed us through the house and the lovely back patio and garden area, a perfect place for a glass of wine and a game of cribbage in the afternoon. In addition the home came with a friendly squirrel that provided us entertainment with his maneuvers on the bird feeder!

After five days of what seemed like endless driving, it felt good to finally be able to stay put for the next month. And for the next couple of days we pretty much did nothing but get settled.

Because of the mild year round climate Portland is a perfect place for gardens. We had planned on visiting the Japanese Garden but then later eliminated it because of its extensive uphill and down dale walkways. I enjoy walking but perhaps that wasn’t the best choice after Bob’s recent pacemaker surgery. Instead we chose the International Rose Test Garden just across the road. During World War I there was a great fear that Europe’s hybrid roses would be lost. The English sent many of their roses to Portland and The International Rose Test Garden was established. The roses bloom generally between April and September. And although we were there in early May, there weren’t many. But what we did see were rhododendrons. Wow! Rhododendrons have long been one of my favorites but I had no idea they grew so large or that there were multicolored varieties. And we had come at their peak! The garden was amazing. And it was free.

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A week later we visited the Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden. This garden which dates from the early 1900s was started by William Ladd, who was Portland’s mayor at the time, and the garden was part of his farm. There are bridges and picnic areas and ponds. I felt like I had been transported into a Victorian novel.

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There are innumerable gardens in Portland, but like cherubs in the churches of Europe, I find after a couple, I’m saturated. And plus, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, every street we turned down was absolutely stunning with its own blooms, so many we had never seen before! And we saw countless types of dogwood!

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One of the things we like best about Portland is the nonconformist philosophy of the city and the way the area seems to march to its own drummer. We love the neighborhoods of craftsman homes dating to the early part of the twentieth century with their low pitched roofs and lovely covered front porches. What a safe way, during Covid, for residents to interact with neighbors as they walk down the street. Neighborhoods are diverse in age and race and in our interactions with the locals, we found people to be friendly and enthusiastic about their city.

We were saddened by all the stores boarded up in downtown Portland as well as the thousands of homeless people trying to figure out how to survive another day.

The city, like so many others, is wrestling to find a solution. It seems to me that because there are so many reasons why a person becomes homeless, it’s overly simplistic to think we can come up with a one size fits all solution. Perhaps the fact that the situation has become so visably apparent to all will force us as a society to begin to address the inequities of life in our country.

The Columbia and Willamette Rivers seem to be the heart of Portland. The Willamette (rhymes with Damn It) has its source near Springfield, Oregon, and flows north for nearly 200 miles before emptying into the Columbia just north of Portland. The Columbia begins its flow at the base of the Canadian Rockies in British Columbia and eventually enters into the Pacific at Astoria, just 95 miles northwest of Portland. This was one of our first day trips. Astoria, the oldest city in Oregon, was founded by Jacob Astor in 1811, the first American settlement west of the Rocky Mountains.

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We had hoped we’d be able to see its mouth where the Columbia River flows into the Pacific but were unaware that at that point the river is five miles wide. Astoria is located on the border of Washington and Oregon with a long wide bridge over the Columbia connecting the two. Still the ships and the majestic river took our breath away. The huge Victorian homes gave us a feel of what the city must have been like in times past. The states of Washington and Oregon were still restricting a lot of activities until a majority of its citizens were vaccinated so we found most establishments closed.

From Astoria we drove down the coast as far as Cannon Beach. Here there was a lot more activity than in Astoria but still folks were taking precautions seriously. Both masking and social distancing were observed. But even with the cool windy weather, we found lots of people out walking and enjoying the springtime. Rock formations, including Haystack Rock, is an iconic sight as the basalt rock emerges 235 feet high from the shallow water; however, we were disappointed that we were a little too early to see any tufted puffins.

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Portland has a lot of street art. Some murals focus on the environment; others on the different cultures. There’s always more going up. There are lots of lists online so I plotted out a trek across the city on my phone and we spent an afternoon enjoying. Here are a few we saw.

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Just as we were returning to our home, we came upon a poignant memorial in the yard of the United Church of Christ, just across the street from our Airbnb. The next day was the anniversary of George Floyd’s death.

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Our weather was really perfect the entire month of May. So on one beautiful day we decided to drive down to Mt. Hood. We found we could avoid the interstate and still do it in about an hour and a half. We drove through a lot of small villages with lots of pretty views.

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We were amazed when we got up to the Timberline Lodge that although it was in the 60s and we thought, by midwest standards, the snow was pretty patchy, folks were still skiing and snowboarding. I guess those addicted to the sport will go out every chance they get.

Late one weekday morning we set out for Multnomah Falls, but lots of other people had the same idea, and that combined with the fact that the largest parking lot had been closed, there was absolutely no place to park. We were disappointed but we had been lucky to visit a couple of times previously. We were still able to drive through the park area that took us up close to the Multnomah Falls as well as Horsetail Falls.

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Okay, so what should we do instead? We’ve visited all but a few of our state capitals but Salem was one of those few. We checked Google maps and found it was less than 80 miles south of us so we decided we’d drive down to have a look. Salem is a city of about 175,000 located on the Willamette River. It’s also on the 45th parallel, halfway between the equator and the North Pole. The state capitol is known for its gold leaf pioneer statue on top.

Most interesting was the park across from the capitol that has markers in the ground explaining the history of Oregon, many of them excerpts from pioneer diaries. The Kalapuyans and their descendants, part of the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde Community of Oregon, have lived in the area for more than 10,000 years. The first Europeans, like most of the northwest, were fur traders and missionaries.

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Before we left Portland we wanted to check out its Saturday market. We’ve found that lots of the markets, both in the US and Europe have mostly mass produced items with locally made crafts few and far between. We were pleasantly surprised that this one featured lots of original items for sale.

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After four wonderful weeks in Portland we were now heading to Seattle for a month. Because I have a sister in Seattle, we have been there more times that we can count. This wouldn’t be a city where we’d do a lot of sightseeing. We are going there for family business. But at the end of the month, my friend Rita, is coming out to spend a week with us and since Seattle is new for her, we’ll have fun showing her the sights. So we leave Mt Hood behind and look forward to seeing Mt Ranier.

Since we began our travels seven years ago, we’ve rarely taken the most direct route. Instead we tend to see what there is to see between where we are and where we are heading and then zigzag among the sights! Ah, the luxury of having all the time in the world. We have reservations for the month of May in Portland followed by June in Seattle so our detour to Minnesota from southern New Mexico was going to add a few miles. Next question was what’s to see in between?

The landscape continues to change as we head north, leaving the desert and moving into the high country. New Mexico is a really interesting state. But for me, it would take some time getting used to all the open space. I think you’d have to be pretty self-sufficient to live here. Unless your home is in one of a few cities, you definitely can’t make a quick run to the store.

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We had planned to spend a couple of days in Santa Fe and the surrounding area but then I read that high elevations increase demands on the heart. Doesn’t seem to be a smart decision to dawdle here given that our whole purpose of the Minnesota detour is to get Bob a pacemaker. So we made a quick trip through the downtown, enough to make us realize we definitely want to come back to experience more of this beautiful city and check out the historic mountain pueblos as well.

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Leaving Santa Fe we continued our trek north. After driving through hundreds of miles of barren land we decided to make a stop in Trinidad, Colorado, an old mining town with a lot of history. In the early 20th century the owners of the coal mines made a lot of money and the town has many huge Victorian homes reflecting that wealth. But life wasn’t quite so good for the miners and in 1914 the horrific Ludlow Massacre was the result of the conflict between the two sides. https://www.britannica.com/event/Ludlow-Massacre There are several monuments honoring the minors including the iconic canary! The last local mine closed in 2012 but an Australian company was trying to buy the mine and reopen it in 2020. Then the pandemic hit so I’m not sure where it all stands today.

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Just a couple hours beyond Trinidad we came to Colorado Springs, a pretty city, made all the more beautiful with Pikes Peak hanging as a backdrop. We spent a morning driving through the Garden of the Gods.

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The altitude was still high but we figured we’d not be doing a lot of walking and only spending a few hours there. We’d visited several times but it never fails to impress. We were thrilled by all the bighorn sheep that came down to greet the park visitors!

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From Colorado Springs we headed east and into the flat endless plains. Throughout the plains we were nearly blown off our feet whenever we stepped out of the car. No wonder there are so many windmills!

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There are currently 13 presidential museums and libraries. We have sort of seen seven of them. I say sort of because while we visited Jimmy Carter’s Museum and Library in Atlanta last November, because of Covid we weren’t able to do more than tour the grounds. We also have visted Jerry Ford’s Museum in Grand Rapids, but he is the only president to have his library and museum in two different locations. And we have not been to his library in Ann Arbor.

President Eisenhower’s Museum and Library are located in Abilene, Kansas. So that became our next destination. Again, because of Covid we could only wander through the grounds. But in this case I thought it added to the provenance. It was a cool drizzly Sunday morning in this little town that pretty much defines itself as Eisenhower’s home. Trees and bushes were just beginning to blossom and the grounds are spread out among his childhood home, his library, several monuments and his burial site. With the exception of a lone security guard we were the only ones there.

The silence enhanced reflection on the world and how it evolved during Eisenhower’s lifetime: from his earliest years in Abilene during the late 1890s (less than a decade after Abilene was known as part of the “End of the Chisolm Trail,”) continuing through his years as commander of the expeditionary forces of the allied troops during World War II, on through the years when he was president of Columbia University, and continuing through the years when he was president of the United States and finally during his years of retirement on his farm in Gettysburg. I don’t think we’ve had many presidents whose greatest has been defined outside of the presidency, a few perhaps but not many. I definitely believe Eisenhower’s was. And the fact that the statue of him has him in his military dress suggests that perhaps others believe this to be true as well! I think about all the streets and boulevards we’ve seen in Europe named after him. Ah, but I digress!

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Driving on to Manhattan Kansas, we stopped long enough to drive through the campus of Kansas State University. We were pleasantly surprised by this lovely campus. The grounds are hilly and nicely landscaped and definitely have the feel of a collegiate atmosphere.

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Those of you who know me and my connection to literacy will not be surprised when I say the library facade is my favorite. The books are each 25 feet tall and 9 feet wide. I thought it was a wonderful idea that they had community members and library patrons vote to decide which 22 book covers should be included! Again, Kansas City is a city I want to return to after things open up. Truly, had we not had a taste of it on our cross country odyssey I never would have considered it a destination!

We were nearing Minnesota but we still had one last place to visit. That was West Branch, Iowa, a tiny hamlet of 2,000 people that was the home of Herbert Hoover. Just like Abilene, Kansas, this is a town that totally identifies itself with its famous native son. In a much more modest fashion, but similar to Eisenhower’s complex, an area has been preserved in much the same way it was during Hoover’s time there. The graves of President Hoover and his wife are atop a hill that overlooks the town. I could remember seeing Hoover occasionally on TV when I was a child but couldn’t conjure up any memories of his wife. When I looked it up I realized that’s because she died before I was born. And he lived twenty years more, until 1964.

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After more than 1700 miles we reached Rochester, Minnesota. The weather had cooperated and while we had encountered a bit of rain, we’d not had anything horrendous. But it was cold! When it began to snow just a couple of hours south of Rochester, I realized how optimistic I had been when I chose to wear sandals that morning!

Bob had his preappointments at the clinic and then his surgery to get his pacemaker. I continue to be amazed by the Mayo Clinic. This quote of Dr. William Mayo, posted on one of the clinic walls, reflects the institution’s philosophy still today!

Bob’s surgery took a bit more than two hours but throughout his operation I received updated text messages. First he had gone into surgery. Then the surgery had begun. Next the pacemaker was inserted. The wires were being attached. It was really phenomenal. About 7 hours after we had arrived we were headed back to our hotel room. And the next morning at 9 am we had a meeting with a “technologist” who charted the data received from the pacemaker. We were told that there was an app we could download on his phone that would transmit the data back to his doctors periodically. He doesn’t need to return for three months. We were good to go. One catch, he can’t lift anything heavier than 5 pounds for 4 weeks nor can he drive for 10 days. As a result you’ll notice there are fewer pictures than usual for the remainder of Oregon Trail trip. It’s difficult to drive and take pictures at the same time! But Portland here we come!

Our reservation in Portland was scheduled to begin Monday, May 3. That gave us three full days and two half days of driving. We’ve have to travel about 450 miles a day; that seemed doable. We decided to follow I 90 which is the most direct way. This interstate roughly follows the path of the Oregon Trail. We’ve traveled to Seattle more times than we can count so there weren’t a lot of stops we planned to make along the way. But when we approached Badlands National Park we couldn’t just drive on! There’s a loop through the park that starts at one exit on I 90 and then about 35 miles later we met up with I 90 again at Wall Drug and yes, we made a stop there too, for an ice cream cone!

More than 30 years ago when we first visited the Badlands our oldest son commented that he thought the landscape looked like he envisioned walking on the moon. And I think of that whenever we return. Like so many other places we’ve visited, it’s hard to imagine what the pioneers must have thought when they first came upon this unusual landscape! Even today visitors are warned to watch out for rattlesnakes and stinging insects and not to get too close to wild animals noting that bison can run as fast as 30 mph. But the views are amazing and there were plenty of places to pull off and contemplate all that we were seeing.

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I 90 across Minnesota, South Dakota, and cutting up through the corner of Wyoming and then into eastern Montana is pretty flat. We found Spotify to be a welcome addition to our travels across this barren countryside, and we chose western music to complement the scenery. We half expected a group of cattle rustlers to come riding in but with the exception of a few pheasants and a couple of pronghorn antelope, we didn’t come across any other wildlife, human or otherwise!

But the rest of Montana? This was worth the wait! Just as we approached Butte, the landscape began to change. This is where we met up with the Rockies! As we first glimpsed the mountains, we found ourselves, saying, “Wow! Look there! And there!” And the fact that the Rockies are snowcapped this time of year makes them all the more beautiful.

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We continued across Montana passing through Bozeman and Butte and Missoula. And the scenery only got better. Crossing into Idaho we went over the Shoshone Pass at 4,725 feet that climbs through the Coeur d’Alene Mountains, part of the Bitterroot Range. Not only was the scenery magnificent but the 80 mph speed limit allowed us to make really good time.

We had planned on stopping in Spokane but it was still early so we drove on to Kennewick, Washington, and the Columbia River. Kennewick is the largest of the tri-cities of Paseo, Richland and Kennewick. Archeologists have found evidence that Native Americans have lived in this area for thousands of years. The population increased considerably in the 1940s when people moved here to work on the Manhatten Project. Richland is the location for the Hanford Site, part of the Department of Energy and in the middle 1960s the Pacific Northwest Laboratory (also part of the Department of Energy) was constructed in Richland and is now the major source of employment. Until we drove into Kennewick, we hadn’t realized how big a city it was!

On our final section of our drive we followed the Columbia River from Kennewick all the way to Portland.

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As we continued down I 90, Mt. Hood came into view directly in front of us. I find the Cascades really interesting since they have so many iconic volcanoes lined up in a row from California nearly to the Canadian border: Mt Shasta, Mt Hood, Mt Saint Helens, Mt Rainer, Mt Baker!

We started our trek less than 40 miles from the Mexican border, traveled to the midwest and are now in Portland, Oregon, where we’re approximately 300 miles from the Canadian border. It’s been a journey of nearly 4,000 miles since we left Las Cruces less than two weeks ago. We’ve had fun, and we’ve seen a lot, but I have to admit, I have no desire to get in a car for a few days!

From the moment we arrived in San Antonio we were impressed with how seriously everyone was taking the pandemic. Signs on local businesses all required masks and people were following the rules. We wanted to investigate the local area so it seemed like a great idea to check out sites where we could socially distance. We began with San Antonio Missions National Historical Park. In 2015, the five missions: Mission Concepcion, Mission San Jose, Mission San Juan, and Mission Espada, Mission San Antonio de Valero were declared a World Heritage Site, one of only 24 in the United States. Four of the missions are still operating as churches, part of the Archdiosis of San Antonio. I was particularly interested in Mission San Jose, because I have a picture taken with my mother in 1948 in front of the Rose Window. La Ventana de Rosa was completed in 1755 and thought to be one of the best examples of Baroque Architecture in the United States. Little is known of its sculptor. The Missions represent a living history of the blend of cultures of the Spanish and the indiginous communities.

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Our Airbnb is in the historic King William neighborhood of San Antonio. We have a great front porch, a perfect place for people watching, reading a good book or a conversation.

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This neighborhood was quite the place in the 1800s as we could see by the many palatial homes. Today this is an area of gift shops, a craft brewery and many restaurants. But we didn’t visit any because of Covid.

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As I reflect on our years of travel, (We’re beginning year seven.) I realize that travel for us is different from most of the full time travelers’ blogs that I follow. I’ve mentioned before that our pace is far slower. I find myself exhausted as I read the frenetic schedules that many follow. Because we’re not limited by time I think we’re allowed a different perspective. While I read about an area both before we arrive and while we’re there, our stays don’t follow a long list of must do’s. Those play a small part of our day-to-day lives. Instead we’re trying to get a feel for the part of the world where we are currently residing, always comparing it to places we’ve been and experiences we’ve had. Our travels have enabled to us “live” for a month or so in many places where we would never move full time; we’ve learned a lot. Because we are both love history, I think we look less at specific sights and more at the impact those sights or events had on the lives of people who live there. I’m sure many would find our approach boring but it works for us. And I believe that’s a key to happy traveling…doing things the way they work for you. A day at the beach reading a book. A drive through the mountains. A trip to the grocery store. A random conversation with a person I meet in the post office. These are all things that I enjoy. I often ask locals for their ideas about what to see, where to eat, interesting sights, particularly those off the beaten track. And we’ve had many interesting adventures as a result.

Just a couple of days after we arrived I began to check online to see what Texas procedures were for getting the Covid vaccine. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found a site that showed many openings for the following week. No residency requirement was listed. As I began typing in my information, I yelled to Bob, and soon we had two appointments for our first vaccine at the UT Health Center in San Antonio. I was stunned! I still wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we showed our Michigan drivers licenses for identification, but I shouldn’t have worried. All went smoothly.

We arrived on the appointed day, and I’ve never experienced a more efficient process. Our names were checked against the appointment log. Then they moved us to the next location where we showed our IDs. Then we were directed to individuals who gave us our shots. We each were given a proof of vaccine card with our follow up appointments listed. Finally, we were asked to sit for 15 minutes to ensure we didn’t have any reaction. That was it! The entire process couldn’t have taken more than 45 minutes. Very impressive. Thank you, Texas!

Then there’s always the unexpected. And one of the most daunting experiences of our travels happened during this stay in San Antonio.

We woke up on the Friday before Valentine’s Day to a thermostat that read 53. We cranked it up to 90, turned on the oven and put a pot of water on the stove to boil. We managed to get it up to 57 but it didn’t budge beyond that. I contacted our Airbnb host who didn’t seem too concerned but said she’d try to get someone to come out and look at it. Finally, about 4:30 a nice young man appeared and after climbing into the attic (where the furnace is located!) told us that the back of the furnace had come off and that all the heat was staying in the attic instead of coming down the vents into the living area. He said things should warm up shortly. We were ecstatic! Ah heat! Life was good again!

As mundane as it sounds, one of my favorite things to do is to check out local supermarkets, and for the past year this has been a real challenge Since Covid, I generally make grocery lists and then use the curbside pick up most supermarkets offer. I had done the same thing this time but when the app said I couldn’t pick it up until Monday, I decided I might as well go in. I’d be masked as would everyone else! And I’d never been in an H-E-B supermarket. I wanted to check it out. I wouldn’t be in the store long. Wow! I couldn’t have been more wrong! I should have known when I went into the store and couldn’t find a cart that maybe this wasn’t a typical day! I quickly went through the store picking up just the items I had on my list and then headed to the line! The place is absolutely huge! The line at the check out the longest I’ve ever seen anywhere!

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Holy moly! An hour and 45 minutes later I had my order paid for and was on my way out of the store. I think it must have been a combination of Valentines Day weekend and the wintry weather forecast that caused the craziness. But as I was soon to learn, it was a good thing I hadn’t waited to pick up the groceries on Monday.

We had planned on venturing further away from the city over Valentines Day as Pat had a three day weekend. Then we saw there were predictions for really cold temperatures. It wouldn’t be much fun to walk along the Texas shore in freezing temps so we decided to postpone our outing until another weekend. The weather forecast continued to deteriorate over the next few days. When we woke up on Valentine’s Day we wondered if someone had moved San Antonio to Michigan. We couldn’t believe there was several inches of snow on the ground.

The heat in our Airbnb continued to work hard to keep the temps tolerable. But as Sunday turned into Monday we had to set the thermostat to 90 to get it anywhere close to 70. Wearing sweatshirts and wrapped in blankets as we watched television kept us pretty comfortable. I had just made a second pot of coffee on Tuesday morning when I noticed Alexa was black. Then I realized our power had gone off. The news was saying that because Texas is on a separate grid from the rest of the country, the entire state would be experiencing rolling blackouts in an attempt to ensure that everyone would have some power. From what I understood, these rollouts were anything but efficient. Some people who had lost their power on Sunday were experiencing a couple of minutes of electricity every few hours. Who knew how long this could last? And in the meantime temps were down in the teens. Time to find a hotel.

I texted our host for suggestions but she came up with nothing. She mentioned one high end hotel downtown but as I began to search various chains I realized hotel rooms were few and far between. I finally found a room at the Doubletree. We grabbed a few things for the night and headed to the Doubletree just a few blocks away. When I checked in, the woman at the desk explained that they had rooms, but they were very cool, had no hot water and it was possible that they would lose power during the night. But what was our choice? This seemed to be the only game in town. We checked in and yes, the room was very chilly but certainly better than an indefinite time back at the house without power. Little did we realize when we checked in that this would be our home for the next three days.

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The first night we were able to get pizza delivered to the hotel. For breakfast each day we had coffee we made in our room. Few restaurants were operating after the first day because in addition to the power outage, they had received no deliveries and anyway, most folks couldn’t get in to work. Patrick went out to scour the area and amazingly, found a seafood restaurant not far away. As he carried our treasured meals back to the hotel he was stopped by many who inquired where he had found the food! How lucky we were to have a hotel and the resources to pay for food when we found it.

Then suddenly on Wednesday morning the fire alarm went off! Unbelievable. Already wrapped in our warmest clothes, we tied our shoes and headed out the door. Right next to our room were the stairs. As we headed that way, the housekeeper stopped us saying, “No, no! Don’t go that way! The stairs aren’t safe!” Then she went on to explain she was sure it was a false alarm. What to do! She called down to the front desk and yep, an announcement shortly followed apologizing for our inconvenience. Later the housekeeper showed Bob the stairs she was referring to. They were outside. The snow on them had melted and then refroze resulting in a sheet of ice. We never could have maneuvered them from the fourth floor down to the street. For the next two days we watched the unfolding horror stories of people throughout Texas having no heat, no water, burst pipes, all accompanied by record low temperatures. We watched another catastrophic event become polticized as the governor tried to blame the problem on renewable energy. By Friday, San Antonio was still cold but power was on at our Airbnb. We had hot water, no pipes had burst and while we’d still have to boil our water, that would be a small inconvenience compared to how others were faring. And the sun was shining! It’s crazy how much we learned about energy in Texas in those few days!

There was more fallout from the storm as well. As I walked through the King William Neighborhood I realized that the orange tree I had previously admired had lost all its fruit. How sad! I don’t know enough about citrus fruit trees to know if it was just this year’s crop that was lost or if the tree itself is dead.

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Because of the size of Texas we found we could take a lot day trips. Each very different. It appeared the temps were going to continue to warm up over the weekend. It was predicted to reach 73 on Sunday so we decided to drive to Corpus Christi, a little more than two hours south of us. Gas stations were open along the way, and we even picked up a couple of cases of bottled water not knowing when the boil water notice would be removed. We really enjoyed Corpus Christi. We first tried to track down the church where Bob’s parents were married in 1944 when his dad was stationed there in the Navy. The church has since been torn down but we found the general area and found it interesting to walk where they had walked more than 75 years ago. From there we drove just a couple of blocks to see the USS Lexington, an aircraft carrier, docked there since the 1980s. It’s now a museum which obviously isn’t open during Covid. As large as it looks in dock, I’m thinking it still must appear just a speck in the water when trying to land a plane on its deck. So impressive.

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We followed the water south, past street after street of luxurious homes, then the University of Texas, Corpus Christi, until we came to the JFK Causeway that took us out to Padre Island and Port Aransus.

We stopped to take a walk along the beach. Hard to believe earlier this week we had been stuck in a hotel because of a power outage caused by winter weather! I asked the clerk in a gift shop in Port Aransus if they had been affected by the storm and power outage. She said they hadn’t but she seemed a bit disappointed. She went on to say she had hoped to make snow angels but they turned out more like mud angels. Hmm…

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A favorite part of travel for me is local food. On our way back to San Antonio we were looking for a place to eat. Patrick commented on how we used to select restaurants based on their menu. Now we select them on the basis of safety. Is there an outdoor dining area? Are staff masked? Are people socially distancing? I looked on YELP, my ever handy app, to find places locals liked. There appeared to be an outdoor barbeque about half way between Corpus and San Antonio. Would it be open? Well, we’d have to find out. We had discovered an outstanding Mexican restaurant, Rosarios, not far from our Airbnb when we first arrived in San Antonio. And although Uber Eats would deliver, if we picked our order up, we could order half gallons of margaritas.

Not a tough decision which way we’d go! We decided Rosarios would be our back up plan. But we were thrilled when we arrived at Choke Canyon Bar-B-Q and found they were open! They had a patio dining area and only one table was occupied. When we entered the restaurant we found staff were masked, and there was a hand sanitizer dispenser next to the walk up line where we placed our orders. We each got a barbque sandwich with a side. Food was amazing! Pat and I had a beer and Bob had sweet tea. The total bill came to less than $36! What a find!

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Five of the largest fifteen cities in the country are in Texas but I never realized before we got here that San Antonio is the seventh largest! Along with the metropolitan parts of Texas, we’ve seen the gorgeous shores of Padre Island and Corpus Christi. We’ve seen desert. But I think my favorite is The Hill Country. The winding rocky hills set it apart from the rest of Texas. We had decided to venture to this part of the state so we could see the Lyndon B Johnson National Historic Park. The Johnsons donated the ranch to the federal government reserving the right to live the rest of their lives there. This is the ranch where LBJ was born, grew up and spent much of his free time. After the President died in 1973, Lady Bird continued to live there part time until her death in 2007. While the individual buildings are currently closed, there is a road that guides visitors through the working ranch. There were various historical markers along the drive. Upon entering the park, we first passed the family cemetery and also the small house where LBJ was born. This building was later converted into a guest house for friends and dignataries who were invited to the ranch.

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Across the road from the cemetery we could see the church where the first Head Start Program was housed. Of particular interest to us was the landing strip LBJ had built so he could fly home directly from DC. The road ends at the homestead that overlooks the Pedernales River. LBJ was the first vice president to have a plane. The Lockheed 13 seater plane is housed in the hanger near the Johnson Home and is affectionately referred to as the One Half.

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As we were leaving the ranch, we stopped at the giftshop where I asked the ranger for a suggestion for a nearby eatery, again with outside dining. He directed us into Johnson City (named after one of LBJ’s ancestors) to the Pecan Street Brewing Company. This turned out to be another great restaurant with lots of outdoor seating and people socially distanced. The food was great although we did find it a bit disconcerting that the guy at the next table was carrying a pistol on his belt. Guess we are in the wild west!

Probably the most iconic San Antonio spot is the Riverwalk. We especially liked it at night. There are lots of shops along the river which because of Covid we were very selective about entering. But it was fun to sit at an outdoor cafe, and people watch while sipping on a margarita. Note the band of seranaders who are fully masked! Pretty cool!

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We really enjoyed our stay in San Antonio. It’s a beautiful city. We met lovely people. It’s very definitely bilingual giving us the feel of a foreign location. Even when times were toughest during the power outage we found people gracious. The city far exceeded our expectations.

The size of Texas is almost beyond understanding. Our next stay is in Las Cruces, NM. That’s only 40 miles beyond the Texas border. But the West Texas border is still 500 miles away. And we decided we wanted to add another 150 mile side trip (one way) down to Big Bend National Park. I mean, who knows, when and if we’ll be this way again?

About 200 miles west of San Antonio we came to the The Pecos Canyon High Bridge, the tallest bridge in Texas. It’s over 270 feet high and the first span was constructed in the late 1800s. That’s hard to even imagine! We stopped at a pretty overlook for great views. It’s said that on the west side of the Pecos is where the Wild West begins!

We continued on a couple hundred miles to Alpine, Texas, where we spent the night. These were the closest accomodations to Big Bend National Park I could find. The hotel clerk suggested a restaurant that had take out. But Patrick and I were stunned when we went in to pick up the order. Not only was it crowded, but there was no socially distancing. We didn’t see anyone who was masked including the staff! We picked up our dinner and high tailed it out of there as fast as we could.

Probably one of the things I liked best about West Texas was the dark skies which makes it possible to see stars and stars and more stars, so many in fact that it was hard to discern the major constellations. It was beyond description.

The next morning we drove the 72 miles to Big Bend National Park. The park is a combination of mountains, desert and various landforms. We followed the Ross Maxwell Scenic drive through the Chihuahuan Desert ending up at the Rio Grande River. We took the short walk down to Santa Elena Canyon which is the iconic view from all the Big Bend posters. We were suprised that the water was ice cold.

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We saw some really scary yellow flood gauge signs on the roads throughout the park.

After spending a second night in Alpine, we headed to Las Cruces the next morning. We still had a 220 mile drive to El Paso and another 45 miles from there to Las Cruces. Even though we’ve been to the southwest several times before, I hadn’t realized how much the landscape of the desert varies from place to place. Not long after we left Alpine area we came to Marfa, Texas, a small artsy town with a population of less than 2000.

And just beyond the town, we encountered what we had been looking for, a Prada storefront! My reaction when I first read about it was, “WHAT?” The storefront is a permanent sculpture built in 2005. Prada furnished the items in the windows. A few months after the sculpture was completed it was broken into and six handbags and 14 right-footed shoes were stolen. A security system was then added. When we pulled off to the side of the road to take pictures, we were among more cars than we were to see in the next 300 miles!

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As we continued our drive toward El Paso, we were awed by the desert views and the few cars were on the road. We continued to be amazed by the size of the state!

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Thinking we’d like to be in a blue area for election day, we headed from Indiana to Washington DC on November 2. On the evening of November 3 (also Bob’s birthday) we stayed glued to our television. It turned out just as we had anticipated; no results on election night. I found myself getting up every couple of hours to check the results on my phone, and while it appeared we were headed for a positive result, it was far from over. We tend to be political junkies and consequently, found ourselves continuously switching between MSNBC and CNN for the next 72 hours. We decided the gene must have passed on to the next generation when our son, Stephen, sent us a video of our grandchildren parading through their neighborhood.

As we left DC early on Saturday, November 7, we were horrified to see so many storefronts boarded up downtown. On the other hand, we were relieved that all seemed quiet, and we hoped it would continue when the results were all tabulated. About six hours into our journey, Biden was declared the winner and jubilation was felt throughout DC. (Little did we dream what was ahead!)

We had decided to spend the winter back in Port Charlotte, Florida, waiting until the end of January to make further plans not knowing what to expect from Covid. On top of the pandemic and a very contentious election, the hurricane season had been a record breaker. Not only was Tropical Storm Eta set to deluge the Port Charlotte area but it appeared that it was going to cross the peninsula just as we were headed down. We’d never spent much time in Atlanta so we thought now might be the time to explore the city before moving further southward.

Always thinking about Covid and wanting to stay safe, we only considered activities we could do outside, masked while observing social distancing. While the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library was closed, it was still a pretty place to wander the grounds. We look forward to returning and touring the library.

Martin Luther King National Historical Park takes in a whole neighborhood. Here we saw the home where he was born and also Ebenezer Baptist Church. This is the church where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was baptized, ordained and also served with his father, Martin Luther King, Senior. It is also interesting that this is the church where Raphael Warnock served until recently being elected as one of the new Georgia senators. (An event that hadn’t yet occurred as we walked through the area.)

Our Airbnb was in Roswell, Georgia, just north of Atlanta. The area has many antebellum homes. The one building that struck me most interesting was Bulloch Hall. The building was built by James Bulloch who made his money in cotton and was the father of Martha Bulloch who married Theodore Roosevelt, Sr in 1853. Martha Bulloch Roosevelt was the mother of the 26th president and also the mother of Elliot Roosevelt who was the father of Eleanor Roosevelt.

After a few days in Atlanta it appeared the coast was clear and we continued on to Florida. Here we were again in a familiar home with a wonderful lanai and pool. We truly spend as much time outside as we do inside when we stay here We also particularly enjoy our friends, Bob and Art, who we’ve rented from on four occasions. Days became routine and I spent a lot of time on jigsaw puzzles, baking and knitting projects. I also continued my efforts writing postards for the Georgia senate campaigns. In spite of the lockdown, time continued to fly by.

We also enjoy all the birds we see: ibis, egrets (although I always confuse these two). Turkey vultures really do look like turkeys. And I used to think pileated woodpeckers were unusual, but we’ve seen them on several occasions in Florida.

Like most others, Christmas was different for us this year. We usually meet up with parts of our family and often in destination locations. One more “unnormal” 2020 occasion. Everyone was staying put. We did manage to meet up with Patrick. We weren’t comfortable with him flying so we drove to DC to pick him up. (It’s not like we had a booked social calendar!) Bob and I stayed right downtown DC and went for a walk along Black Lives Matter Plaza before heading back to Florida with Pat the next morning. We took two days driving up and two days driving back. We had limited contact with folks, ordering meals in at our hotels and only stopping along the road for gas. Truly one of the positives about Covid for us is having more time to spend with some of our kids.

Lake Okeechobee is about a two hour drive east from Port Charlotte so we decided to drive over on a cool weekend to check it out. The lake is the largest freshwater lake in Florida and according to Wikipedia, the eighth largest in the country. Two devasting hurricanes in the area in the 1920’s resulted in horrendous storm surges that killed hundreds of people. There are now more than 200 miles of levees that the Army Corps of Engineers built to protect the area. Because of these levees, the lake isn’t usually visible as you drive around it. But where there were wayside parks we pulled off to enjoy. This is also a very different part of the Florida. While it’s not far from the touristy spots, it’s very much an agricultural area with lots of sugar cane and the factories that process it. We learned that 50% of the sugar in the US comes from Florida with most of it grown around the southern tip of Lake Okeechobee. The sunset on our drive back west was gorgeous!

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We had read online that Saturn and Jupiter would be visible to the naked eye for several nights. We were amazed that we could actually see them from our driveway.

Soon it was the end of January and we said goodbye to Port Charlotte and started our journey to San Antonio, Texas. We had been there a couple of times before but never for an extended stay. It won’t be quite as warm as Florida but hopefully won’t be too cold. We had several things we wanted to see along the way.

Montgomery, Alabama, was not on our direct route west. We had visited many of the historic civil rights sites there more than thirty years ago. But now not knowing when, if ever, we’d return to this area there was a memorial I wanted to see. The National Memorial for Justice and Peace (informally known as the Lynching Memorial) was opened in 2018. More than 4400 lynchings took place, mostly in the South, from 1877 and 1950.

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The memorial took my breath away. On a grassy knoll not far from the entrance, the memorial consists of 800 steel monuments, each in the shape of a rectangular casket, each representing a specific county. On each monument is listed the name of the county and state and the names of those who were hanged along with the date the lynching took place. Many have no names but are listed simply as, “Unknown.” As I walked among the individual monuments, I couldn’t begin to imagine the terror with which people of color lived their daily lives. There are many plaques describing the insignificance of the accusations that led to the victims’ murders along with various sculptures throughout the memorial both which add to the memorial’s poignancy. The project was constructed on six acres in the same neighborhood where the Montgomery Bus Boycott began.

Before leaving Montgomery we wanted to see Dexter Baptist Church. This is where Dr. Martin Luther King began his first fulltime pastorship. Dr, King was pastor here during the Montgomery bus boycott in 1955. He insisted all his parishoners become registered voters and members of the NAACP. Dr. King remained at this church until 1959 when he joined his father as pastor at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta.

While we had been there once before we decided we would continue our travel through Selma so we could cross the Edmond Pettus Bridge. There’s a certain irony that the bridge that is so synomous with the civil rights movement is named after a man who was a champion of the confederate cause and slavery and served as the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan in Alabama.

Leaving Selma and heading to New Orleans we crossed Mississippi, a state we’d been in a few times before but always on the interstate. This time we were going over some back roads before we met up with the main highway. As we travel, we’re always looking to learn facts about the state: what are its biggest cities, and how does the state’s area rank in comparison with the other 49.

We learned in our search about Mississippi that it’s the only state in the union not to have an open container law. And if that weren’t unusual enough, it’s also legal for the driver to be drinking. She just has to remember that her blood alcohol has to be under .08 legal limit. (A fact that made us wonder how one goes about checking that as she’s driving.) Evidently it’s also common to measure distances in beers. For instance, how far is it from Jackson to the Gulf? Answer: About six beers. Some people argue they need the law because many folks want to have a beer on their way home after a long day of work! The article I read said that Mississippi has an unusually high rate of alcohol-related fatalities. REALLY?

New Orleans was our next stop. We splurged on a night in a fancy hotel in the French Quarter. At the end of the hall on our floor was a really nice outdoor terrace. It was absolutely huge and there were only two other couples out there. Both really far away from us. A great place to converse with a beer, enjoy the view and feel perfectly safe!

Sunday morning we checked out Jackson Square and while there were people out, it was never crowded. We had hesitations about eating at an outdoor cafe because of the close proximity with walkers but we found the Cafe Pontalba that had open windows from ceiling to ground. (Check out the picture below. The cafe is the left side of the last photo.) The table felt like being outside but was removed from the people. After lunch we stopped to get a bag of beignets for the road and were on our way westward.

On the way out of town we drove past the Super Dome. Then we headed across the Lake Ponchartrain Causeway, the longest bridge in the world. We read that it’s so long (more than 24 miles) that for 8 miles in either direction you can’t see land. We didn’t think that was the case as we crossed perhaps because it was such a beautful clear day. I don’t think I’d want to cross it on a stormy day!

The drive from New Orleans to San Antonio is about 540 miles. It was early afternoon and we hoped to make it into Texas before stopping for the night. As we passed Baton Rouge, we got a good view of the capitol from the interstate.

Early the next afternoon we arrived in San Antonio. Our Airbnb is in the historic King William neighborhood not far from downtown and with a great front porch complete with a view of the Tower of the Americas which was built for the San Antonio World’s Fair HemisFair 68. We’re impressed with how nearly everyone we see is masked. And we had great Tex Mex take out for our first night here. We look forward to exploring the area.

At the end of June we escaped Florida, Covid free, and headed north to Winchester, Virginia. It took us two days to make the 720 mile drive. We’ve made the trip from Florida to DC many times but we still enjoy it because of the lovely scenery as the marshes and water vistas change into rolling hills.  

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We stopped just south of Fredericksbug, Virginia, for the night. The hotel was very clean but I still wiped sinks, doorknobs and light switches down with disinfectant just to be extra safe. Dominoes delivered pizza to our door without any interaction. And from our hotel window the sunset was spectacular as a result of the huge dust storm that had crossed the Atlantic from Africa.

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It’s like living in a science fiction novel. This is certainly not anything I could have imagined when we began our travels in January of 2015!  Our first inkling of the seriousness of the Corona Virus came while we were in Seattle in February.  We even considered waiting until the end of March to fly back east because we thought it might be safer then.  So glad we didn’t! We’d still be there!

We spent a week in DC figuring out what next. Since it was March, somewhere warm had appeal.  We had flown into a hotbed of the virus in Seattle, and the east coast was just beginning to feel its presence. But because the day we landed in DC was the first day our youngest son, Patrick, was told to work from home, we figured that even though we love the city, the densely populated DC area was probably not a good choice.

So we celebrated my birthday at the Hamilton with Patrick and Cary having no idea at the time that it would turn out to be our last dinner out for a very long time. We had been to Amelia Island, Florida, in the northeast corner of the state and liked its location right on the water. It was a town with a lot of character.  Cary had returned to the US from Rome to work out details of a special visa and now she was unable to return to Italy.  One definite plus of the virus was spending time with our daughter! I found a place for 6 weeks for a reasonable price and we figured that would give us time to try to figure out our next move. Another draw to Amelia Island was we could make it in a day’s drive. So on March 19, equipped with hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes, we began our road trip. We were amazed at how few people were traveling south compared with the massive lines of traffic heading north. We were surprised too by how low gas prices were. We only stopped to use the bathroom.  And when we arrived at our destination 11 hours later, we drove through Taco Bell for dinner.

The house turned out to be fine but there was little outside area and because we were avoiding the beaches and crowds that was a drawback. We had a tiny patio with a couple of chairs off our dining room and Cary would take her daily break out in the sun.  Unfortunately she also encountered a snake who regularly liked to visit. 

The woman we were renting from tried to be helpful and sent out a couple of workers who did their best to get rid of the snakes (Yep, later the original guy had found a partner!) but while the visits were less frequent, they never were completly eliminated.  One of the last days we were there, the pest control man rang our doorbell to show me the shedded skin he had found in the front yard and explained it was really fresh.  He and his buddy tried to reassure us that the snakes were a good thing that they got rid of rats and other vermin but all that did was convince me that there probably were other critters I didn’t wish to encounter nearby!

Almost as soon as we got to Florida the numbers of Covid cases began creeping up.  The governor kept insisting all was fine. Beyond taking an occasional ride in the car we stayed close to home. Most beaches were cordoned off and where there was access there were signs indicating how to stay safe. For the most part they were ignored. We did find a few isolated areas where we encountered few people. When we did go out we wore masks, and used hand sanitizer and socially distanced.

I downloaded an app so we could order our groceries online and have them delivered.  Cary and I also did our best to keep online sales solvent! We knew we needed to find another location to extend our stay and quickly found a lovely condo a short distance from our current home.  Little did we know when we made the move that we had traded snakes for cockroaches!  Oh, the things I took for granted living in Michigan!

I’ve settled into a sort of routine now that we can’t go exploring. Our days from the start were pretty much the same as they are now. I can’t imagine the pandemic before the days of the internet. I use my computer continuously from locating our next place to stay, to paying bills, to participating in an excercise class on Zoom, ordering items on line, and generally just staying in touch with others. I particularly enjoy conversations on Google Hangouts or Zoom with family and close friends.  We’ve celebrated many of our kids’ and grandkids’ birthdays and it’s been great fun to actually see the people we’re talking with.

Reading continues to be one of my favoite pastimes. I am working my way through my list of books suggested to me by friends or reviews I’ve encountered on the internet. No matter how voraciously I read the list continues to get longer never shorter. I have often sought out library cards where we stay but given the normalcy with which many Floridians are proceeding with their lives I’m not comfortable visiting the local library.   I travel with a Kindle but I love the feel of reading from an actual book. And because our expenses have been reduced significantly, I splurged and even placed an order for several hard copies.  (I justify this by telling myself I can pass them on to Cary when I’ve completed them!)

I definitely need some exercise and yet, with so few wearing masks I’m not comfortable venturing out very much.  After hunting online I found a Zumba class.  I’m not very coordinated but doing something like this via Zoom might be a good way to begin.  Much to my surprise, the woman I contacted, the course instructor, Sue Russell, lives in England.  She has a background in education and is a fascinating, creative individual with absolutely endless energy.  She invited me to chat after class and now it’s become a routine for us to chat on most days after Zumba.  We connected right away because of our common interests in education. She has lived in the US and for one of her many hats, she writes guided reading scripts for students of various ages on a wide variety of topics.  I can’t help but think during the pandemic this might be a really engaging way of involving kids, particularly in history. The kids could practice their parts on their own and then do it all together on Zoom!  What fun!  If you want more information check out her website: https://www.plays-r-ussell.com/product-category/my-school-play-scripts/hot-scripts-jan-feb-march/

I think I’ve done more cooking in the past few months than any time in our married life.  And most of the time I’ve enjoying finding new recipes and trying new things, especially in the land of seafood.  I’ve always liked to cook and now that we’re not able to eat out at restaurants I am becoming more adventurous in the kitchen. 

Once I was able to find yeast I even gave bread making a shot!  And we’ve enjoyed it so much that I’ve added it to my weekly routine. It did require the addition of a few kitchen items. I’m afraid I’ve become quite dependent on Amazon.

Three years ago my friend Rita taught me how to knit. She didn’t warn me however that it would become addictive.  I find it really relaxing, except when I’m trying to figure out how to correct my repeated mistakes! It is nice to have my mentor only a text away! I love to visit yarn shops, but for now I have to be content with picking out yarns online.

But my major splurge has been a keyboard!  Because it appears that we will be in the States for a long time forward, we’ll be driving our own car and have the luxury of space that we don’t have when we travel abroad.

The two things I have really missed over the past five and half years are my piano and my dog.  Haven’t quite figured out how to resolve the dog issue yet! And I do worry with my new hobbies that I’m acquiring more “stuff” for us to travel with, definitely not a good thing after spending so much time and effort sorting and getting rid of all our stuff!  Bob never says anything but I’m pretty sure he’s not pleased. 

Card games provide another diversion for us. Bob and I (and Cary when she was with us) play a lot of cribbage or rummy.  For the past few years, I have kept a running score of who wins the most games in each location.  Right now we’re pretty even. But one of my favorite activities continues to be Trivia. I found a Team Trivia game online that has now become part of our weekly routine.

Most recently we play with Patrick, in DC, and Cary in Rome.  (This means that Cary has to get up at 2 am to participate! The entire time she was with us in Florida she worked remotely with her colleagues in Rome which meant that she started her day about 3 am Florida time. So it’s not as though she’s been unfamiliar with strange hours. )

Bob kept insisting he needed a beard trim and I knew he was serious when he decided to order a set of hair trimmers and asked if I’d undertake the role of barber.  It didn’t turn out too badly…well, at least the first couple of times.  What do you think?Most recently as I began to trim his beard and hair I thought the cut was unusually close and then I realized I hadn’t put the guide on so it was acting as a razor. I had started in the back so luckily he wasn’t able to see the damage!  Lucky for me he is very laid back about it and continously says, “It’ll grow back.”  On the other hand I desperately need a hair cut and while I took some thinning shears to it once, I’m afraid to go any further.

Given the time we have on our hands, Bob and I both signed up to make calls for the Democrats.  This was short-lived as we soon learned that all our calling is done through phone banks and the contacts are all people who have already been identified as friendly calls.  We found it a very inefficient way to make calls given that most people today have cell phones and don’t answer those that are unidentified. When we did occasionally reach a voter, they informed us they had already been called on numerous occasions.  Hopefully, we will soon find a more efficient manner to be of support to the party. 

Cary was able to fly home to Rome in the middle of May. She was dressed with gloves, a mask and a carried sheet to cover her seat. But she had to change planes twice; first, in Atlanta and then in Paris.  When we took her to Jacksonville we found the airport eerily quiet but she didn’t encounter too many hassles and she managed to stay healthy!

Our kids continue to work remotely. And we, like everyone else, wonder what the next year will be like.  Our oldest granddaughter is a sophomore at Central Michigan University.  She’s decided to continue her classes online this fall.  Luckily she can commute to campus if she needs to.  Our oldest grandson will be a senior in high school this fall.  What will his senior year look like? A few years ago while visiting Cuba I thought about how difficult it must be for the Cubans to not be able to travel anywhere outside their own country.  Never did I dream, as Americans, we would be in the same situation.  How lucky we are to have such a huge country to call home!

With the weather getting a lot warmer and with hurricane season fast approaching we decided it was time to move on.  Still concerned about Covid 19 we didn’t want to travel too far so we decided to rent a place for July and August in Winchester, Virginia, about 11 hours north of Amelia Island. This way we can be close to both Patrick, and Stephen and Sadie’s family without being in a heavily densely populated area.  Who knows after that? Here’s a toast to the end of the Corona Virus! Until next time, stay safe!

 

 

 

 

 

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This Mothers Day my mom would be 118.  I wish I could sit down and have a conversation with her!   Lately I’ve recalled over and over a story she told me about a Christmas when she was a teenager and her parents told her and her siblings there wouldn’t be any gifts because they were quarantined. How amazed she was on Christmas morning when there were small gifts for everyone including oranges in the bottom of their stockings. This became a tradition she continued with my sister and me and one that Bob and I continued with our four kids. Mom said she never did figure out where the gifts came from!  That was the Christmas of 1918, during the flu pandemic. 

My mom grew up on a farm in Daviess County, in southern Indiana, near the small town of Elnora.  One hundred years ago this month, she graduated from Epsom High School.  One hundred years ago! 

Women didn’t even get the right to vote until 3 months after she graduated! I remember Mom telling me on more than one occasion how from the time she was in kindergarten she wanted to be a teacher. I never got the idea she felt poor, but there certainly wasn’t a lot of extra money. So it was after a lot of pleading, her mother gave her $3.00, the total amount of her cookie jar savings, so Mom could enroll at Indiana State Normal School in Terre Haute.  (Today this is Indiana State University.) They had a hired hand who took Mom up to Terre Haute and although it was only about 60 miles from home, it was an all day journey.  In Terre Haute she rented a room over a peanut butter factory. She pretty much lived on peanut butter sandwiches during her time at school.

In 1922 she graduated with her elementary teaching certificate. Mom’s first teaching contract stated in a very straightforward way that female teachers could not bob their hair nor be seen out after a certain hour in the company of men unless a chaperone accompanied them.  And most specifically women had to quit teaching when they got married.  When Mom announced that she was getting married, Mylo Murray, the superintendent of the Michigan City Schools, reminded Mom that she would have to resign.  My mother disagreed and fought it all the way to Indianapolis where much to the surprise of many, she won! A few weeks later, Mom submitted her resignation.  It wasn’t that she wanted to continue teaching after she got married, she explained, it was just that she should have the choice, the decision should be hers to make. And although Mom substituted after I started school, she didn’t return to teaching full time until I was in the fourth grade. Education remained really important to both her and my dad. My sister and I both grew up knowing that going to college was a given.  It wasn’t a question of “If  we would go”  but rather, “Where would we go?” 

I also remember mom telling me that I should marry only if I found the right man.  Men rarely make marriage a goal.  Neither should women! (I can remember Dad saying it was important to get my college degree so I’d never be dependent on a man! Quite progressive thinking for a man born in 1896.)

Mom never planned on marrying. She was next to the oldest of five children and these were the days before social security so she felt it was her responsibility to take care of her parents. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t follow her dream of being a teacher!

Ketchem Family Back row left: Mom (born 1902), Silas (born 1864) Joseph (born 1901), Emma (born 1877), Mabel (born 1904); Front row left: Ruth (born 1908), Fred (born 1906)

Catching the Monon train somewhere near Elnora, she headed nearly 250 miles north to Michigan City where she had secured her first teaching job. Better paying teaching jobs were found in the northern part of the state particularly near bigger cities. It was common then for young teachers to rent rooms in boarding houses where breakfast and dinner were included in their rents.

Days were spent teaching school, evenings writing lessons and grading papers. On weekends there were lectures, plays, card games and dances.  Her diary shows that she was never at a loss for activities. One of Mom’s roommates set her up with  my dad (a local businessman who had a car) for a double date.  The roommate had her eye on Dad and figured that since my mom was taking care of her parents, she was a safe bet.  In 1934 after a long delay in their plans caused by the onset of the Great Depression Mom and Dad were married. My sister was born in 1939 and by the time I came around Mom was 44 and Dad was 51. Theirs was a true love story!  I can remember at age 16 walking with Mom and Dad along the strip in Las Vegas observing that in their middle 60’s they were holding hands as they strolled. 

In retrospect I think it was Mom’s independent thinking that made the greatest impression on me. My sister and I were taught to act on our beliefs regardless of what others said.  Mom reminded us that there might be consequences for our actions and only we could decide if the risk was worth it. This was particularly useful advice when during the first five years of my teaching career we went on strike nearly every year. I chose every time to strike, but understood that I could be jailed or even scarier, I could be fired!

Travel was viewed as an integral part of education. Travel meant roadtrips. In January 1948 when I was less than a year old, my dad sold his business, bought a travel trailer and a new car to pull it and we headed out to see the American West on what Mom and Dad described as “being gypsies” for 6 months.  Imagine in 1948, with a 10 month old baby and a seven year old, living for half a year in a 14 foot camper! We first headed south to New Orleans for the Mardi Gras, and promptly got stuck in Tennessee for a few days because of a snowstorm. From New Orleans we headed west stopping to see historical sights along the way.  In Austin my dad was thoroughly offended when while holding me in the rotunda of the state capitol waiting for my mom and sister who were hiking to the top, a tall Texan remarked to him, “Bet Grandpa is pretty proud of her.”  It wouldn’t be the last time people thought he was my grandfather. And while he learned to laugh about it later, he didn’t find it very funny at the time.  

We traveled on to Arizona stopping at the Grand Canyon and then on to Tucson to visit my mother’s older brother, and there my mother baked a birthday cake in the trailer oven.  Then to LA to visit my Dad’ sister, and then up the west coast to Oregon and Washington. When we drove up Mt Hood the snow was so deep Dad had to follow the snow poles marking the edge of the road.  At Timberlake Lodge, there were Saint Bernards to guide us into the lodge. These were the days before campgrounds so we stayed in residential trailer parks and my parents and my sister made lots of friends along the way.  People of different colors and different beliefs.  In Spokane, Washington, my parents were offered more for the trailer than they had originally paid so Mom and Dad packed up boxes, mailed them back home, packed the rest in the car and off we went staying in motels and cabins the rest of the way back to Indiana. 

Throughout the years I was growing up we continued to travel, never as extensively as that first trailer trip, but usually for a month to six weeks every few years and the purpose was always to see new things. Sometimes it meant retracing steps from the trailer trip, given that I had been too little to remember any of it.

Other times it included new sights:  attend a concert by The Morman Tabernacle Choir, swim in the Great Salt Lake, explore Rocky Mountain National Park and the maritime provinces of Canada, as well as visiting the undeveloped Gaspe Peninsula of Quebec.  When my sister left home and lived first in Virginia, then in Berkeley, California, then the Northwest, these all became travel destinations. I learned so much on those trips: history, geography, and map reading skills in addition to what mattered most to my parents.

My parents were stricter than most of my friends’ parents.  In retrospect I realize they were strict about specific things like curfews and dating. Because they had come of age in a different time, they had a hard time with me calling boys.  Or with long telephone calls. Or dating in general, particularly in cars. But in many ways I think they were probably a lot more liberal than many parents of the 1960s. I could read whatever I wanted to, spend my time however I wished. I loved cooking and would often come home from the library with a new cookbook.  From the time I was eight or nine, Mom would let me have total control over the kitchen as long as I left it clean. (She never wanted to be greeted by a messy kitchen in the morning.) Most of the time she’d be in the living room if I had a question. Often I would beat Mom home after school, and I’d scrounge around in the kitchen to see what was in the fridge.  Then I’d look in a cookbook until I could come up with a recipe utilizing what we had on hand.  When Mom would get home, I’d tell her what was for dinner.  That always seemed to please her.

My mother and father were both voracious readers and I remember once being told by an overly pedantic librarian that I couldn’t check out a book because it was “too mature” for me. When I shared the story with Mom she immediately got in the car, drove to the library and  marched in explaining in no uncertain terms, that it was NOT the librarian’s responsibility to determine what I could and could not read.  Any time I wanted to check out a book I was to be allowed to do so.  Mom knew it was important for me to read widely without censorship in order to make up my own mind about what I believed. 

Civic responsibility was a given. It was important to know what was going on in the world around us. I don’t remember ever being sheltered because something was too scary. Every night we’d watch the NBC, CBS and ABC news. I remember watching news reels most specifically of the conflict in Korea and the McCarthy Hearings and the threats of the Cold War. (In those days John Daley was on ABC for 15 minutes at 6:15, followed by Douglas Edwards on CBS, and then finally John Cameron Swazey on NBC.  Later Chet Huntley and David Brinkley entered the picture.) In 1964 I had read a lot about Barry Goldwater and volunteered for the Young Republicans. This was quite a shock in a home as left of center as mine was.  When my father objected, my mother quickly stepped in and told him I should be able to work for whomever I wished.  If he wanted to hand out materials on the opposite street corner he could do that but he should not silence my voice.  Dad acquiesced. I always had the feeling that Mom made most of the daily decisions for the family.  But when Dad said, “Jump!”  My mother would respond, “How high?” 

Perhaps all of mom’s philosophical ideals had at their center that we only had one chance at life. Don’t get bogged down with the mundane!  There wasn’t anything we couldn’t achieve IF we were willing to work hard and tackle the obstacles we were sure to encounter. Time, not money, she believed, is the most important gift we have so it’s important that we are always mindful of the way we choose to spend it living every hour, every day to its fullest. Mom and Dad gave 100% to everything they did. Mom was extremely well organized but with enough flexibility to be spontaneous!  

In my memory our house was almost always a relaxed place to be. Dad got home at 5 and we all sat down to dinner shortly thereafter. Conversations were focused on what we’d all done during the day, or what we’d read or current events.  Sunday dinners were in the middle of the afternoon and Dad would go pick up a good family friend who would join us.  For entertainment, sometimes friends would come over, or we’d play cards (canasta early on, bridge as I got older) or board games like Uncle Wiggley,  Parcheesi or Scrabble.  And there were a few television shows like Ed Sullivan’s Toast of the Town, or I Love Lucy or The Red Skelton Show. Sometimes, we’d go for a ride or I’d play the piano and my dad and I would sing (not well!). We didn’t have relatives in town so at holiday time, friends who either had no kids, or their kids were grown and far away, would join us for special dinners. Sure there were disagreements and arguments but they never lasted very long. Mom demonstrated what was important to her by modeling it every day! 

What a lucky kid I was!  I love you, Mom!  Happy Mothers Day!