Dad's 79th Birthday

That's Dad helping me with an arts project that I'd made from a kit.  Yes, that is a cigar hanging from his mouth before he gave up smoking and joined the Church.  Don't you just love my Wyatt Earp sweatshirt?

It seems impossible that Dad is now 79 years old.  Where have the years gone?  I love my dad for so many reasons and I've written about those things in many previous blogs and they never change.

I recently discovered a church talk though that I'd written many years ago dealing with fatherhood.  I don't think I've included this in my postings before, but even if I have, it bears repeating...

"If someone asked me to describe my Dad, I would have to do so with the following:

- A man with a sparse head of hair, but who used to have lots of full, red hair.  Most was probably lost due to worry and concern for our family.  (Since I am the oldest child, I'm sure I've contributed to a great deal of the hair loss0.
- A man with big ears - ears that are willing to take the time to listen to the many problems and concerns his children and grandchildren have had over the years.  Ears which have listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost and have helped guide our family.
- A man with wide eyes - eyes which love to just sit back and watch as life and people go by.  Eyes which can show genuine love and concern for his fellowmen.  Eyes which read the words of the Lord and incorporate them in his life.
- A man with a very large chest.  It has to be a large chest in order to hold his large heart with is filled with the love he has for his family, friends and the Lord.
- A man with long arms and big hands - arms big enough to encircle someone who really needs a hug or a big squeeze around the shoulders.  Hands large enough to cover our heads during a priesthood blessing.
- A man with big, broad shoulders big enough to bury your face into and sob out your sorrows and heartaches.  Somehow they have the ability to adjust in size.  When I was a small child, they were just the right size and somehow, they still seem to accommodate me even as an adult.
- A man with long fingers - finger which can point you in the right direction and give you a nudge to get you started.
- A man with an over-sized lap.  A lap which has always been large enough to hold one or many grandchildren all at the same time.
- A man with a big nose.  This nose has always seemed to sniff out potential problems, but he has always known when to keep his nose out of the way and other peoples business.
- A man with big knees - knees which have never been too proud to kneel and thank his Heavenly Father for his many blessings.
- A man with long legs - legs which are ready to be there in a moments notice to help and assist when needed.
- A man with a commanding voice - a voice which I've rarely heard speak ill of anyone, a voice that was his sole source of discipline, a voice that can hold you spellbound with the relating of stories and knowledge and a voice humble enough to speak of his love for his Saviour.
- A man with two big lips.  Though I can never remember ever hearing my father tell my mother vocally that he loves her, for as long as I can remember, he has always kissed her before leaving the house and returned home.  I have seen those two lips placed many times on the top of my head and the heads of his beloved grandchildren and the immediate love they have returned.

That's Dad, me and Jimmy at the home of the Christensen's who were very good friends of our family.

One last feature:  A man with two big feet - feet which stand firmly planted in his love of the gospel and the love of his family and friends.  Feet which have stood by the side of my mother's hospital bed during her many operations.  Feet which have stood behind each of his four children as he blessed us with special blessings during our lifetime whether it was on our wedding day, at the beginning of each school year, healing blessing, or for whatever reason.

Although I may have conjured up visions of a very grotesque-sounding man, I can tell you he looks quite like a handsome, ordinary man.

No, he's not always been the perfect father, most particularly when I felt he was too strict when I was growing up, but I have always respected and loved him for his dedication to his family and church callings.  He is an excellent example of a priesthood holder and I know he loves the Lord".

It was after my Dad heard this talk and when he heard me mention that I'd never heard him tell my mom that he loved her, that he made a change.  He began to do so every day and he even starting telling me how much he loved me.

I love my dad with all my heart and I hope that if it's God's will, I will be able to celebrate his 80th birthday with him next year.

Happy Cereal Day

I LOVE cereal - cold cereal, dry cereal, whatever you want to call it. My favorite? Frosted Mini Wheats and GrapeNuts, although I can eat most any kind. I remember when growing up that cold cereal was a treat which we didn't have a lot and when we did it was usually Corn Flakes or Cheerios. Hot cereal was usually the main staple of our breakfast particularly oatmeal with raisins (that's why I think I don't like eating raisins).

My most vivid memory regarding cereal happened in 1965 when our family took our first real family vacation and headed from Eglin AFB to Tampa. Mom had planned and prepped for our meals on the road so that we could save money. After all, we were a family of six and eating out on the road would and could be expensive. While in the commissary one day before the trip, she apparently ran across a great deal. She found boxes of Cap'n Crunch cereal that was .10 cents a box and bought LOTS of boxes of it. This wound up being our breakfast each and every morning while on our vacation. We would usually stop at some rest area along the wayside and Mom would bring out the styrofoam bowls, plastic spoons, jug of milk and the Cap'n Crunch. I have NevER bought Cap'n Crunch for me to eat since that time.

When I eat cereal, I eat it for pure pleasure. I like eating it when I can take my time. There is an art to proper cereal consumption:

1. Fill the bowl until the cereal is about even with rim. It can be leveled out with your hand.
2. Pour your milk (preferably 100% whole since it does taste best. However since I eat more than one bowl at a time and want to keep my voluptuous figure, I've opted to use 1% or skim) until the cereal starts to rise up over the edge of your bowl. If pieces of cereal are jumping overboard, it's time to quit pouring.
3. If your cereal is not pre-sweetened a couple of teaspoons of sugar should be sprinkled around on your cereal. Just dumping the sugar is not allowed as you will then need to stir your cereal to mix the milk and sugar and you could lose precious cereal from your bowl. And, the ultimate topping for unsweetened cereal is slicing up a nice firm banana. Those shouldn't be left to be eaten until the end though as they will tend to get rather mushy and that's not good! (No I won't and don't add strawberries or blueberries or any other fruit on my cereal. Yuk!)
4. Despite what the television commercials say, I don't like crunchy, newly-poured cereal. It's too sharp; too stiff and sometimes can even cut the inside of your mouth. Cereal tastes much better having the chance to soak up some of the milk. "Soggy" cereal does not bother me and will not be thrown out.
5. With each delicious spoonful of consumed cereal, the level in the bowl goes down and bits of cereal stick to the sides of the bowl. These are not to be considered "no good" bits but should be routinely and systematically shoved back down into the milk with your spoon and leveled off to keep the bowl of cereal in tip-top shape.
6. Milk left in the bottom of the bowl is evidence of a serious problem. You MUST drink all of the remaining milk. That is where the best flavors wind up and you discover that sometimes your milk has even turned pink or brown depending upon the type of cereal you just consumed. (One of the trials in my marriage is that Joe ALWAYS leaves LOTS of milk in the bottom of his cereal bowl. He doesn't like milk he says. Well, if you don't like milk, don't add so much the next time)!

Bet you didn't think there was such an art to eating cereal, huh? And, you've just read my philosophy on cold cereal which I've been honing for the last 50+ years. What about you?

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Pssst....I will admit that I've even eaten cold cereal straight from the box sans milk. Of course, it was some fabulous sweet cereal and I just needed something to satisfy my sweet tooth.

Tobacco - A Vanishing Crop

As long as I can remember coming to visit my grandparents and family who lived in south Georgia, tobacco was always a big crop. However, through the years with I've watched the amount of tobacco being grown diminish since there aren't as many people smoking anymore.

Lots of my cousins grew up "working in tobacco" and it was their way of earning good money during the summer to buy new school clothes or a car. I think the pay was about $25 per day. That was a lot of money at that time. More than I would make babysitting. Being a "city girl" I had no idea what it was like to work in tobacco. I got a chance after my family came back from Japan. According to an entry in my diary dated July 24, 1965...Dear Diary, I got to work in tobacco. Stood in the truck and handed it down.

The reason I probably didn't write anymore was: (1) I was way toooo tired to write anything more; and/or (2) I could never explain what torture I had been through that day. I was staying with my grandmother at the time and she thought it would be a great idea for me to have the experience and I could make some good money! Let me just say that at the end of the day there wasn't enough money to EVER work in tobacco again.

My experience as I remember (and I may have to go into therapy after recalling this day) - I had to get up at some ungodly hour of the morning since we had to be in the field very early. I got to ride on the back of a pickup truck and stack sticks as they were handed to me when the tobacco had been "strung" on the stick. One of the problems was that the leaves were damp and the nicotine from the leaves started to stick to you and your clothes. It wasn't like you could just wipe it off and you couldn't wash it off since you were out in the middle of a field with no water.

Anyway one of the other things I did that day was hand off the tobacco that had been strung and was ready to be hung in a barn to be dried. There were lots of leaves hanging on a single long wooden tobacco stick (clever name, huh?) that had been piled on the back of the pickup truck. I had to hand these sticks down to someone on the ground who then handed it to someone else who hung it in the barn. By now the sun is high in the sky and it is hot! Especially hot to someone who has never done this type of work before. I was only 13 years old and apparently a wimp!

One of the next jobs was the worse!!! We went to a drying barn where the tobacco had already dried and cured. I stood in the bottom of the barn and the sticks (which were very light now since the moisture had been sucked from the leaves) were handed down to me. No problem you say - wrong. The leaves were now full of dried sand and nicotine particles that fell into your eyes. It didn't matter if you had a hat on your head or not - you had to look up to get the stick and all that dried stuff fell into your face and eyes.

By the time I made it back to Grandmother's house that night, even she didn't recognize me. I was covered in black/brown nicotine, dried dirt, sweat streaks, etc. As far as I remember that was my first and last time ever working in tobacco and I never plan on doing it again in my lifetime!

Dad and Going To The Movies

Though my mom really loved going to the movies, my dad hardly never, ever went to the movies. In fact, I can only remember going to the movies with him three times in my entire life. The first movie was "Darby O'Gill and The Little People"in 1959 when I was 7 years old and it was at a drive-in theater. Drive-ins were always fun to go to as a child. The theater that I remember as a child had a playground up under the large painted screen. It has several different rides such a merry-go-round, swings and other playground equipment. It was primarily used by children during the intermission of the movie. I also remember some type of announcement letting you know how much longer the playground would be open. And, at the beginning of the intermission some short little film would come up and tempt your tastebuds with all kinds of pictures of goodies being sold at the refreshment center. One example is shown below:

There were some unique features and rituals that took place when you went to the drive-in. One of them was purchasing the mosquito killer. It was a coiled thingy that you lit, sat it on the dash of your car and smoke came out of it and it was supposed to keep the mosquitoes from bothering you. Check out the little film below. Maybe that will help explain it for those of you who never had this experience.

There was also the way you parked your car. You pulled up onto a little hilly area so that your car faced toward the screen and it tipped up the front of the car so that you could sit back, relax and see the screen. You drove up next to a post that had a speaker on it and you attached it to your car by rolling up your window a little and attaching it to the glass.










Tifton also had a drive-in theater years ago. I can remember going to that theater on occasions when the family came to visit with Grandmother and Granddaddy McGhee.

The other two movies seen with Dad were in regular walk-in theaters. Mom and Dad had gone to see "The Sound of Music" with another couple on a date night. Dad was so impressed with the movie that he took us kids to see the movie on January 13, 1969(how do I know the date - I found it written in an old diary of mine). I don't remember what the occasion was when we went to see "To Sir, With Love". I just know these are the only movies I remember attending with Dad. Mom, on the other hand, is avid fan of movies such as I am and we've seen many, many together. We have even been known to sit through three in a row occasionally.

There was something to be said for the old drive-ins. I think it helped bring families together. You got to sit together in the car or spread a blanket on the ground next to you. You could partake of food that wasn't regular fare at home. You could participate in the whole experience together - as a family. Yep, that's something to wish for in these days and times.

Do You Remember? I Do!

It took five minutes for the TV warm up? (I think my Mom and Dad said they bought their first television in 1952).

Nearly everyone's Mom was at home when the kids got home from school? (I remember my mom being home everyday waiting to hear about our day. And, there was always some kind of afternoon snack).

Nobody owned a purebred dog? (I only remember mutts or strays. The only exception I recall was Velvet who was a purebred black female Schnauzer we got in New Jersey and was a member of our family for many years).

That's me on the left with Velvet and Cotton while living in Brookfield, Georgia. And, then me above in the wheelbarrow with Velvet at the same home. Why I was sitting in the wheelbarrow in my houseshoes, I don't seem to remember. When Velvet died she was buried on the property.

When a quarter was a decent allowance? (I think my allowance finally made it to fifty cents).

Your Mom wore nylons that came in two pieces? (Forget Mom...I wore nylons that came in two pieces as well as a garter belt).

All your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done every day and wore high heels? (Maybe that's why I had a crush on Mr. Calvin Cowles in the 6th grade)?

You got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking, all for free, every time? And you didn't pay for air? And, you got trading stamps to boot? (Yep, I remember all that).

Laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box? (Wow, I had forgotten about all that. That's how Mom collected our drinking glass sets).

It was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents? (I remember most of all the NCO Club in Japan. We used to go there every Sunday after church, if I remember, and I always had the fried rice. The best I remember ever eating).

When a 57 Chevy was everyone's dream car...to cruise, peel out, lay rubber or watch submarine races, and people went steady? (Well, we had the 57 Chevy stationwagon named Betsy - everything else I don't remember).

No one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the car, in the ignition, and the doors were never locked?

Lying on your back in the grass with your friends and saying things like, "That cloud looks like a " and playing baseball with no adults to help kids with the rules of the game? (I remember the cloud thing with my mom as one of my favorite memories. I even did the same thing with Corey and my daycare kids).

Stuff from the store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger?

And with all our progress, don't you just wish, just once, you could slip back in time and savor the slower pace,and share it with the children of today? (I certainly do. I remember coming home from school, changing into my "play clothes" and then heading outside to play. We always came running home though when we heard Mom ring the brass bell Dad brought back from Morocco)

(About the bell...it is now in the possession of Aunt Nancy since she had more children and now has more grandchildren).

Basically we were in fear for our lives, but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! But we survived because their love was greater than the threat. (Amen)!

I remember Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, Howdy Doody and the Peanut Gallery, Sky King (I had a crush on him), the Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans with Trigger and Buttermilk and the original Bonanza when it wasn't reruns.
I remember Hula Hoops, mixing Kool-Aid powder with sugar containing Red Dye #40 and cyclamates and double dog dares. I remember candy cigarettes, wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water inside, soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles, diners with tableside jukeboxes, Clove and Teaberry chewing gum.

Newsreels before the movie, telephone numbers with a word prefix...(PARK 35496 - the first telephone number I every memorized). Party lines, Hi-Fi's, 45 RPM records and 78 RPM records! Green Stamps, metal ice cubes trays with levers, Mimeograph paper, Roller-skate keys, cowgirl outfits, drive-in movies, washtub wringers and Reel-To-Reel tape recorders.

Also, Tinkertoys, Erector Sets, Lincoln Logs, 15 cent McDonald hamburgers (and a full meal with change from your dollar bill), Barbie dolls, 5 cent packs of baseball cards with that awful pink slab of bubble gum. penny candy, 27 cent a gallon gasoline, Jiffy Pop popcorn and decisions were made by going "eeny-meeny-miney-moe". (That's me (on the left) on Christmas Day about 1961 with my new Barbie Doll. You can't see her very well since she was dressed in her delicate pink peignoir robe and gown. I still have her and many of her clothes).

Remember mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, "Do Over!", catching fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening, the worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was "cooties", having a weapon in school meant being caught with a slingshot and Saturday morning cartoons weren't 30-minute commercials for action figures.

I also remember "Oly-oly-oxen-free" made perfect sense, spinning around getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles and the worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team. War was a card game, baseball cards in your bicycle spokes transformed it into a motorcycle, taking drugs meant orange-flavored chewable aspirin and water balloons were the ultimate weapon.

What else do you remember?

Remembering RFK and the Bambi Motel - 40 Years Later

Bambi Motel
Originally uploaded by lespaceplie

The news reports today are reflecting back 40 years ago to the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. Sometimes things happen in our lives and it's easy to remember where you were at that time and what you were doing. And, RFK's assassination is one of them for me.

On June 5, 1968, our family was heading out on the first real family vacation we'd ever been on. It wasn't like our family had never traveled together before, but primarily it had been connected to moving in conjunction with Dad's job in the Air Force. This was going to be a real, genuine family vacation. We were living at Eglin AFB, Florida near Ft. Walton Beach and we were heading to central Florida to visit Busch Gardens and some of the surrounding attractions. (DisneyWorld, SeaWorld and the majority of the theme parks and attractions operating today were not even in business at that time).

I think the highlight(?) of our entire, life-long sleeping accomodations was the hotel we stayed in the first night. I'll never forget the Bambi Motel - wow! Located at 1829 U.S. Highway 19 in Perry, Florida, it was one of those roadside, non-chain motels that you drove right up to your room door. It was the kind of motel that you reached into the door first and turned the light on before entering. It was one of those kind of motels that you didn't want to get up in the middle of the night for fear that you might step on something that you could squish under your feet. If I remember correctly, the shower was pink tile accented with a green mold/slime border. Would you believe that according to the internet, the Bambi Motel is still in business? Holy Moly!!! Well,just remember, every vacation needs a high point and the Bambi Motel was ours

It's All About Me

One of the advantages of being the firstborn is that my mother at least began a "baby book". I discovered it the other day and decided to post the pictures and words she personally wrote. So in my mother's own words...

This is a part of your life as remembered by your mother. Don't forget she is not perfect so, take all mistakes as love.

You arrived at 4:50 a.m., Monday, July 28, 1952 at MacDill A.F.B. Florida, Hillsborough County. MacDill A.F.B. is just outside Tampa, Florida.

I will start by saying you started giving me trouble almost from the moment you were conceived and have been doing so ever since. You arrived in this world on your dads and my anniversary. At the time I had been in the hospital one week and had to stay another one after you were born. This was due to high blood pressure and toxemia. Oh yes, you weighed seven pounds, but I can't remember how many ounces. Sorry about that. 5 oz. I think.

Most of this story is gonna be in pictures. We were living about a block off Bayshore Blvd. in Tampa when you were born. At the moment I can't think of the name of the street. Maybe I will later. I wasn't quite eighteen when you were born. As I've said many times, we've sorta grown up together. As I think back over the years, maybe we haven't done too bad together.

Of course your daddy was in the Air Force at the time you were born. He was a boom operator and flew in a KC-97. When we were married, he was a B-29 gunner.

Well, I think it is time to start with the pictures.

This is your mother and daddy on their way to be married. They were married July 28, 1951 - 1:55 p.m. on a Saturday at the parsonage of the First Baptist Church in Tifton, Georgia. Rev. Davis M. Sanders performed the ceremony. Calvin and Alice Padgett were best man and matron of honor. We left the next day for MacDill A.F.B., Florida.

Before you were born your Dad had to go T.D.Y. to England, Norway, etc. So I went home to Georgia for those three months. Upon your Dad's return, your grandmother, granddaddy and Aunt Ruth brought me back home. Thinking you would be arriving soon, they stayed. The were with us for a month. Needless to say, Granddaddy got in lots of fishing, which he enjoyed very much. But, Aunt Ruth got tired of waiting.




(Mom's captions for the pictures read "Here I am waiting for you. This is the Gandy Bridge between Tampa and St. Pete". Also, "Granddaddy's big catch off Davis Island Bridge". Look at the size of those fish!)



You were born in a barracks type hospital. The only ones to have private rooms were the fussy officer's wives. This was my very first stay in a hospital. I don't even remember visiting anyone before. So I was pretty scared and ready to get out when they did decide to let me go.

This was taken in Hyde Park. You and I used to take long walks. Lots of times I would park the stroller in the theater lobby while I'd watched the movie. I had lots of free time then.

On the front porch of your first home. Your daddy made your seat you're sitting in. He was smart even then!! Besides, he married me, didn't he?

Front yard of the house we lived in when you were born.

Address: 209 Verne Street, Tampa, Florida



This is a card from friends. They sent roses in the pink shoe you have. This is the florist I bought the green frogs from. It was just up the street from Dad's and my first apartment.

This is a bench along Bayshore Boulevard.

A park on Davis' Island. I don't remember how old you were in any of these. That's me holding you. As you can see, you were bald-headed as an onion until almost a year old. So were your sisters and brother. Well, there was some fuzz.

(Take a look at my stroller)

When you were about eight months old, your great granddaddy Cattell and your great Uncle John Cattell came for a visit. Then we drove back to Michigan with then. This was the first time I had ever been there too. It was lots of fun even if I did get teased for my Southern accent.

We came back by way of Missouri on the train. (That was also a first for me). After our visit there with your grandparents, aunts and uncles, we went back to Tampa by train. So you had quite a long trip.

These were all made at Cypress Gardens when we went one Sunday while Granddad was visiting. You were about eight months old.

These are of your first visit to your grandparents home in Mountain View, Missouri. The first time I went there, there was nine inches of snow on the ground; I almost froze. After all, I was a Georgia Peach.

I don't think you liked Aunt Patty very much. You don't look very happy. Safe at last!! Back in Daddy's arms.

It sure looks like you are having fun. These were all made when we lived in a garage apartment for a few months between your dad's T.D.Y.'s. I think you were 10 or 11 months old. When your dad left this time, I believe it was to England and Norway.

I wish I could remember the address. But all I know for sure, it was somewhere in Tampa.

I just remembered the first T.D.Y. was to Africa, not Norway and England.

(I found a notation of "eight months old" on the back of the bottom picture.)

The morning you were born, your dad was home in bed sleeping. They called from the hospital but couldn't wake him up. Your grandmother said she heard the phone when it rang. The hospital called later and told your dad he was a father. This clipping came from some moments your Grandmother Cattell gave me.

This is at your grandparents house in Tifton.

The great concert artist. You and Grandmother McGhee about one year old.

I should have given you this bit of history before. But I said I wasn't perfect. I have to write as I remember.

As I said, your dad was a B-29 gunner when we got married. Well he transferred to the 306th Air Refueling Sqdn, August 24, 1951. He become a boom operator on a KC-97. That is he became a boom operator later. At first he I believe was a "cargo master".

He went on a lot of T.D.Y.'s. Before you were born he was over most of the U.S. He went to school in Mass., Texas, Seattle, Washing. (I think it must have been right after he returned from Westover, Mass., after two weeks that I got pregnant with you). He also went to Puerto Rico. He was very impressed with it.

The first and last stock car race I've ever been to was at Tampa State Fair in February 1952.

Oh, I almost forgot!! Your dad brought back some Puerto Rican cigars for your Grandad Cattell. When we went to Missouri in November (my first visit) we took the to him. I stayed there while he was gone to school in Texas. You Uncle Dave and I decided to try a couple of cigars out one afternoon. It wasn't as if I had never smoked a cigar before. I had some of your dad's. Of course, I was expecting you too. Needless to say we were two very, very sick, green people. We told Dad Cattell he could have the rest of them. He sure did laugh at us, but I think maybe he felt just a little sorry for us.

Your dad wrote his folks, "when I get hooked up like the picture shows, I'm boss of two airplanes worth over $5 million and 10 other men, some of them colonels. A big boss aren't I?" That's all for now on your dad.

From old letters he wrote May 5, 1952. We had just moved to the house where you were born. He said "it had a big orange tree beside it". (This I don't remember). It was upstairs.

We had just purchased a toaster a few days before and that just about completed our appliances. (Oh well, we didn't need much then).

It was while he was in French Morroco in June before you were born in July, that he bought my hand-woven bedspread. He returned to the states July 6th and you were born July 28th.

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P.S. by me...Thank you Mom for all the information. I really learned some things about you, Dad and myself. I guess the picture and information that made the biggest impact on me was the visit of my great grandfather. It boggles my mind to realize that Corey can see a picture of his great great grandfather with his mother and grandparents. But even more so is that one day Derek can see a picture of his great great great grandfather with a picture of his Grandma Carol as a baby.

Also, don't forget that you can click on the pictures and they will become enlarged for a better look.

Sammy the Army Cat

This is a picture of Sammy a Siamese who was our pet cat when we lived in Japan. Jimmy used to call him "Sammy the Army Cat" and drag him around the house by the tail. Sammy was also used by Jimmy as a pillow, a cushion and kid-handled in most every way possible. Although Dad was in the Air Force, Jimmy had Army everything, including Sammy who became an Army cat.

I don't remember how we acquired Sammy. I only remember he was with us in the first months after we moved into our home offbase in 1961. When let outside to do his duty, he apparently thought he was the toughest cat in the country and always seemed to have the misfortune of getting into some kind of tomcat fight. We lived next door to a rice paddy which would be flooded from time to time and he would sit out in there crying and wailing for someone to come help him. On more than several occasions, Mom would get up in the middle of the night, go into the rice paddy and rescue him. He would usually have some type of wound and had several scars to show for it. Unfortunately, no one seems to remember what happened to Sammy. Did he go off and fight one fight too many?

Yes, I Was A Brownie

Yes, I was a Brownie Scout when I was a little girl. These pictures were taken when we lived in Poquoson, Virginia in 1961 when I was nine years old. (I think I still have my Brownie pin in an old jewelry box in the attic).

The Velveteen Rabbit - My favorite children's story

I don't remember the first time I read "The Velveteen Rabbit". I only know that I fell in love with it when I did. In case you've never read it or have forgotten what it's about...

The story starts when a boy got too many Christmas presents. Out of all of them one was special...it was a velveteen rabbit. The boy loved the rabbit (for about a day) and then the rabbit was forgotten in the boy's huge closet where he became very lonely.

Soon after, the boy lost his favorite stuffed animal and he would not got to sleep without it. His nanny, who wanted to make him feel better, grabbed the rabbit out of the closet and said, "This one will have to do." Then the boy and the rabbit became inseparable.

When the boy was gone from his room, the rabbit made a friend, a rocking horse. The horse told the rabbit that he was real and the rabbit asked how he could become real. The horse replied, "Lots of love".


One day the boy told his nanny that the rabbit was real. The rabbit was so excited he just couldn't wait to tell the horse! Soon after, the boy got really sick and was for a very long time. After he recovered, the doctor told the boy's family to burn everything that was in the nursery when he was sick, including the velveteen rabbit. The boy was moved to a different room and everything in his old room was bogged up, taken behind the tool shed and left until time was found to burn them. That night, the rabbit fell out of the bag and a fairy came down and turned him into a real rabbit.

The moral of the story is that if you believe in something and you never stop believing, maybe it will come true.


It's a wonderful story about love and I hope that one day my grandchildren will love it also.
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The rabbit shown above is the one given to me by my Great Granddaddy Orvin Cattell. That's him pictured on the left holding me. I remember nothing at all about him. In fact, I'd always thought that the rabbit had been given to me by my Grandfather Cattell before he passed away from cancer. I only found out I had the wrong misconception just a few years ago. Mom told me that my great grandfather had given her the money to buy Susan and me a rabbit for Easter that he later gave to us.

Mr. Bill

Who was Mr. Bill? First of all, he's the guy sitting on the left-hand side of the picture. He was Bill Harrison a young man who as I remember was about 23 years old and was assigned to your Granddaddy's Air Force squadron when we were living at Yokota AB, Japan in 1961. He was a nice Christian guy and he wound up being our babysitter on many occasions. I was only about 9 years old and not old enough to babysit even though I was the oldest. Granddaddy was in the hospital at Tachikawa AB experiencing severe back problems and was there for several months - yes months, around seven if I remember correctly. The hospital was quite a distance away and naturally Grandmother wanted to go visit and spend as much time with him as she could. Since we had only been in country for about five months and not members of the Church at that time, Grandmother didn't know a lot of people, Mr. Bill either volunteered or was volunteered to babysit. He was great! He would help us with our homework; he would feed us our meals; he would take us to the movie. Mr. Bill loved to take pictures and developed his own and one day invited me to go to the base Hobby Shop and where he taught me how to develop pictures using a darkroom. What a great time we used to have doing that.

I could never describe who he was exactly. He wasn't like a big brother, he wasn't like an uncle - he was just Mr. Bill and even as I grew much older, he was still Mr. Bill. One day it came time for Mr. Bill to rotate back stateside and I remember us taking him to the airport thinking I'd never see him again. I loved Mr. Bill. He was always so much fun to have around and I was so upset to see him go.

As it worked out, Mr. Bill was sent to Japan once again and so he was back in our lives. The next time someone left, it was us. But, he showed up again when we were living at Eglin AFB, Florida near Ft. Walton Beach. I remember him showing up one time with a purple dune buggy and he took us to the beach and we rode up and down sand dunes for as long as he could stand it. Every time we saw Mr. Bill he always had some new and exciting car or piece of equipment. You never knew what to expect from him.

When I graduated from high school in Valdosta, guess who showed up again? Yep, Mr. Bill. He came for my graduation. Of course by this time he'd married and had children. He used to tell me that since he couldn't marry me (since I was way too young), he did the best that he could and married a wonderful woman named Carol. No matter what, I knew I could always count on Mr. Bill if I needed him and it didn't matter where he was.

One day many years ago, sometime in the 80's, maybe 90's, I was sitting at home when I got a phone call that Mr. Bill had died. I remember it was around July 4th and I knew I had to be at his funeral. (And you know how much I hate funerals)! So, without hesitation, your grandmother and I packed our bags and headed to Spartanburg, South Carolina to attend his funeral. I remember standing at the casket taking my last look at the man I had loved for the majority of my life. And, even though I was now a much older person with a child of my own, he was still and will always be Mr. Bill. Carol was standing next to me holding my hands and was telling me how much he'd love me and my family. Up until that point, I had known Mr. Bill longer than anyone outside of my family. He was the biggest non-family constant in my life and I did feel a loss at his passing. I remember the following Christmas that Carol wrote me a wonderful letter about Mr. Bill. I saved it somewhere because it was so special and hope to run across it sometime and share it with you too. So, that's the story of Mr. Bill.