THE WAVES STILL COME

 My daughter Carajean had the sad experience of finding her brother Craig had passed away in his sleep on October 24th. The experience will remain with her always. She has been a constant source of comfort to me since that time. The precious meme below of brother and sister was sent to her by Craig. The moving article on grief was sent to her by her son Tanner shortly after Craig's death. It so aptly describes my own experiences the past three weeks that I feel the author reached inside my soul and captured my feelings.

"Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.

"I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to 'not matter'. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.

"As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while all you can do is float. Stay alive.

"In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart.  When they come,  they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

"Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

"Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them, too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks." G. Snow

RANDALL CRAIG YOUNG

Craig's obituary:

Craig Young Obituary

Craig's memorial service will be held November 28th at 1 pm at Weed-Corley-Fish Funeral Home on North Lamar, Austin, Texas. The service will be live streamed on their Facebook website: 

WCFFunerals

I have received so many beautiful condolences, cards, and floral arrangements from you, my friends and loved ones. If I haven't already, I will thank you individually very soon. It's your love and prayers that have kept me going. I am so blessed in having you all in my life.

The waves are still coming..

Peace and Love, 

Marilyn

SHARING OUR LOSS

Some of you have already read this on my high school class blog. Our family is still in shock over the loss of Craig. As someone said to me, "Our children are not supposed to go before we do!" He was such a big part of our lives, and for the first time we all were living here in Austin.

A Loss So Great..

...I don't know how to go on without him in my life. My first born child, Craig Young, died in his sleep Friday night. He was 62-years-old and enjoying his life more than he had in years. My daughter Carajean went to check on him for me as he was not answering my texts or voice mail. He was supposed to pick up groceries I had ordered and bring them to my house. We were going to have a "porch visit" that was past due. Carajean had to call 911 to come and check on Craig, and she wasn't allowed in until the Medical Examiner came. She could see him lying on the sofa, with his hand under his chin. Peaceful looking, but the police checked for a pulse. They told her there was no sign that it was anything other than a peaceful, natural death. I am so thankful that they had a grief counselor come to assist Carrie until her brother Matthew and his wife Amy arrived. We do not have the final arrangements as of yet. Craig's two children, Cameron and Hannah, are to come here from Fort Worth and Dallas in the next day or two. They will make plans at that time. Cameron posted the following beautiful tribute to Craig on Facebook the next day. His writing is in Italics, and I made a few comments in regular type.

"I lost my best friend last night. One of the most loving people I've ever known. Of all the ways I can think of to pay tribute to him (and will at some point), here's what he would want on here first and foremost. He instilled in me from an early age a desire to fight for a loving, just, and inclusive world. He told me stories about how racism and bigotry has harmed our society, but also about the countless heroes who had come before us and managed to make things better - even if it was just a little bit. He also taught me that democracy (with some help), however flawed it may be, is our absolute best shot to achieve that vision. 

"My dad was in his early twenties (correction, Cameron, he was only 19) working at the Sheraton Hotel in Waco, TX when Alex Haley stayed there - the Roots miniseries had just been released. My dad rashly knocked on his door in the middle of the night, to tell Mr. Haley (who answered the door in his underwear), 'I want to thank you for what you've done for this country.' Alex Haley would later write about this encounter in Playboy magazine ('I didn't know whether to hug him or punch him'). Leave it to some well-intentioned hippie white boy, but it's a beautiful reflection of his personality. Going out of his way to make his principles known, and hopefully, making Alex Haley feel a little more welcomed in an otherwise unwelcoming place. 

"My dad was a lifelong Democrat - like 'canvassed for McGovern when he was 14' Democrat. He was a delegate for the Texas Convention more times than I can count (including this year). He was active in the Nuclear Disarmament movement in the 80s. (He was on the 7-member board of directors of the Texas Nuclear Freeze Movement -- all but Craig were PhDs.) Here is a picture he took marching with Jesse Jackson in a demonstration that I assume has roots in the Rainbow Coalition of the 60s. (I couldn't find the one with Craig in it, but this was on the day Craig joined him in 1985.)

(This was actually in June 1985. I got a call from Craig, 'Don't be surprised, Mom, if you get a call from me saying I'm in jail!' Needless to say, I was a little concerned. He went on to say, 'It was called the March for Peace and Justice. Apartheid was one of many issues being protested. I still have a couple of pictures of him standing a few feet away from me being interviewed prior to the march. We started at Lafayette Park, marched down Pennsylvania Ave. and ended at the Capitol lawn, where he and many others spoke. About 100,000 people, according to Park Police estimates.')

"He was counting down the days to see Mango Mussolini voted out of office and to have integrity, reason, and kindness return to our national and local leadership. I'm hurt that he won't see that, but in some ways relieved that he may not have to witness how hard indeed the coming weeks and months could be for our country. With that said - Vote your a** off! Get organized to protect that right for others. My Dad recognized that Donald J. Trump and his enablers pose the single biggest existential threat to those fundamental rights that he had seen in his lifetime. Do it for our climate in peril, for the countless people being marginalized, erased, or otherwise harmed by those in power. For women and trans folk. For the kids separated from their families. For those we've lost to COVID and other stuff because of our negligible leadership and healthcare system. For my dad." 

"I love you so much, Dad."

Cameron's LSU Sr Recital
Cameron-Hannah-Craig

Many of you already know about Craig. He was as crazy about his children as they are about him. When Cameron left for college, Craig wrote a moving article about him as well: Number One Son

Cameron has been going over some of the things his dad has saved and ran across that post. He left a sweet comment at the end.

This has helped...just to write about it. Stay well everyone..and please vote if you haven't yet. Craig will be watching from above.

Peace and Love,

Marilyn

Surely it can't get much worse!

(Public Domain)

As we approach the November election, so many events are happening that it is difficult to keep from thinking we are certainly nearing the Apocalypse. Record-breaking temperatures throughout the country, wildfires destroying millions of acres of our beautiful forests as well as those throughout the Amazon, melting polar ice caps that are causing warmer ocean temperatures which are creating a record number of tropical storms and hurricanes this year, are only a few of the troubling headlines. And then there is what appears to be the "Antichrist". Fumbling his way through interviews where he speaks of something he knows nothing about, he is advocating a method of dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic that would result in the deaths of millions of people in the United States.."herd immunity", or as he calls it, "herd mentality". Something so many of his supporters appear to suffer from.

(imgflip)

The current administration has decimated so many of the federal government agencies that we no longer can count on getting truthful information or even assistance as was available in the past. Experienced, reliable heads of agencies have been fired only to be replaced by inexperienced, sometimes very unstable persons such as the one who just had a supposed "meltdown" online, Michael Caputo. Not only did he not have any health experience relating to running such an important agency as the Health and Human Services, but he also had been a paid "image consultant" of Vladimir Putin before he became president. As Trump's campaign adviser was his only qualification. We are still uncovering the damage he incurred through the CDC.  

"The United States leads the First World in the following categories: prison population, drug use, child hunger, poverty, illiteracy, teen pregnancies, firearms death, obesity, diabetes, recorded rapes, use of antidepressants, income disparity, military spending, production of hazardous waste, and the poor quality of its schools (Paul Hawken, who published this list in Blessed Unrest, also points out that the U.S. is the only country in the world besides Iraq with metal detectors in its schools)." What Happens When We Teach Peace

The current administration has done nothing to alleviate any of these problems in our society. If anything, the vacancies created by dismissing heads of departments and agencies working towards solving some of them have only made things worse. Money spent on building the "Wall" that was to be Trump's legacy would have gone a long way towards ending child hunger in the U.S. The appointment of Betsy DeVos as Secretary of Education was almost laughable. How can someone of her wealth and again, no relatable experience for the position, someone who never attended a public school, be of help to our "poor quality" public school system? We could go on and on listing the holes in our democracy that Trump and his collaborators have created. So many of the cuts made have been behind the scenes and done quietly. The regulations they have done away with in the Environmental Protection Agency is almost criminal when we view the damage being done to our air pollution, groundwater, and wildlife. The only solution Trump has come up with lately in regards to the wildfires is those states should be "raking their forests".  (Image from Punch Line)

Some political pundit recently said that we should be prepared for anything from Trump to upset the election -- even starting a war! So far there isn't a sign of that happening. He's too excited about being "nominated" for a Nobel Peace Prize! 

I know who I'm voting to be our next president. Maybe our next First Lady will consent to be Secretary of Education. 

Peace,

Marilyn

MAY WE "WALK WITH THE WIND"

A story that was sent to me not long after the death of  U.S. Rep. John Robert Lewis stuck with me.  Lewis told this story about his childhood that I feel is important to be told to the youth of today.  There was great wisdom shown by his Aunt Seneva as the storm raged around them.

"About fifteen of us children were outside my aunt Seneva’s house, playing in her dirt yard. The sky began clouding over, the wind started picking up, lightning flashed far off in the distance, and suddenly I wasn’t thinking about playing anymore; I was terrified… Aunt Seneva was the only adult around, and as the sky blackened and the wind grew stronger, she herded us all inside. "Her house was not the biggest place around, and it seemed even smaller with so many children squeezed inside. Small and surprisingly quiet. All of the shouting and laughter that had been going on earlier, outside, had stopped. The wind was howling now, and the house was starting to shake. We were scared. Even Aunt Seneva was scared.                     John Lewis Age 11 "And then it got worse. Now the house was beginning to sway. The wood plank flooring beneath us began to bend. And then, a corner of the room started lifting up. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. None of us could. This storm was actually pulling the house toward the sky. With us inside it.  "That was when Aunt Seneva told us to clasp hands. Line up and hold hands, she said, and we did as we were told. Then she had us walk as a group toward the corner of the room that was rising. From the kitchen to the front of the house we walked, the wind screaming outside, sheets of rain beating on the tin roof. Then we walked back in the other direction, as another end of the house began to lift. And so it went, back and forth, fifteen children walking with the wind, holding that trembling house down with the weight of our small bodies. "More than half a century has passed since that day, and it has struck me more than once over those many years that our society is not unlike the children in that house, rocked again and again by the winds of one storm or another, the walls around us seeming at times as if they might fly apart. "It seemed that way in the 1960s, at the height of the civil rights movement, when America itself felt as if it might burst at the seams—so much tension, so many storms. But the people of conscience never left the house. They never ran away. They stayed, they came together and they did the best they could, clasping hands and moving toward the corner of the house that was the weakest. And then another corner would lift, and we would go there. "And eventually, inevitably, the storm would settle, and the house would still stand. But we knew another storm would come, and we would have to do it all over again. And we did. And we still do, all of us. You and I. Children holding hands, walking with the wind…"            By John Lewis ******************************* Sadly, due to the current COVID-19 restrictions, we are unable to "hold hands" -- at least we should not! However, many of our citizens (some of our "children" and grandchildren) are showing solidarity in the peaceful protests being carried out all over our land while most are wearing their masks to show how much they care. And today it is not only African-Americans who are protesting and being punished by law enforcement. Look carefully. All races are now "walking with the wind".  RIP John Lewis. Thank you for your service. Peace and Love, Marilyn

STANDING FOR CHANGE

As our nation is suffering from the worst public health pandemic since the 1918 Spanish Flu, feeling the effects of an historic heat wave -- Death Valley recorded the highest temperature in history - 130 degrees, the raging forest fires in California and Colorado that are causing evacuations and threatening even more chaos and destruction from mudslides, and parts of the East coast still reeling from the effects of the recent Hurricane Isaias, I witnessed a most inspirational event this past weekend. The timing couldn't be more apropos. 

(Bucks Co., PA govt - Isaias damage)

Not only did these two young men spend 24-hours reading pertinent books about climate change and discussing what it has done and continues to do to our planet, but they did this while standing on their feet the entire time! Their intention was to raise awareness of the extensive damage being done by climate change and to hopefully raise $500 for "Extinction Rebellion", an international nonviolent movement seeking real solutions to climate change. 

The local chapter of Extinction Rebellion posted the following on Facebook:

Extinction Rebellion ATX  on Sunday:

"Branch and Jorden are still going strong, STILL STANDING after 12+ hours, now reading from David Wallace-Well's "The Uninhabitable Earth" (sprinkled with morbid humor comments). Check the live feed out at twitch.tv/branch_archer. Here's the remaining schedule:

Hours 6-16 (1:00 AM-12:00 PM): Reading lists of endangered species, Trump’s environmental rollbacks, and reading classic books about climate change.

Hour 17 (12:00PM-1:00PM): Agriculture"

I'm proud to say that Branch Tanner Archer (right) is my grandson, and Jorden Hix (left) is his good friend. A medical friend of my daughter's chimed in after a few hours and suggested some in-place exercises to relieve some of the pain in their legs.

Tanner and Jorden had raised over $2,000 by the end of their 24-hour standathon. Needless to say, this grandmother couldn't be more proud! I stayed online with them until I could no longer stay awake. I got up during the night and checked back in with them. From time to time I chatted as well. I reminded them that although my generation did not accomplish enough to stop the damages climate change was wreaking, we were already being warned. The first book to make an impression on me was Rachel Carson's book in 1962, "SILENT SPRING".. Again in 1991, then Senator George Mitchell wrote "WORLD ON FIRE". Both scared many of us, but unfortunately, not enough action was taken. Maybe Al Gore helped fire up (I use that word carefully) my grandchildren's generation. At any rate, more and more young people are challenging the world to wake up and save our planet and the animals before it is too late.

A headline today almost brought tears to my eyes. As if Trump hasn't created enough damage from cozying up to the oil and gas industry, (not just him..the GOP is noted for its support) he is now supporting oil and gas drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). The following article states "Future oil and gas activities resulting from the decision are expected to impact greenhouse gas emissions, water quality, wildlife population and migration patterns, and impacts of increased human activity in the area, according to the environmental impact statement." OIL AND GAS DRILLING IN ANWR

In 2008 I had pretty lengthy back and forth correspondence with then Texas Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson as well as an employee of ANWR. One of my letters began thus:

"Senator Hutchinson,

First, may I say I received your email today outlining your position on the energy crisis. I may be simple minded, but if it is true that the oil companies are currently drilling on only 18% of the oil leases that they have in the United States alone, why do you think they need to have permission to drill in more parts of the country and oceans? Especially when it is so environmentally risky. I know there are no easy answers, but giving free rein to an already hugely profitable industry does not make sense. 

"As my original email letter to you stated, I do not wish to support any legislation to permit any new offshore or ANWR drilling. Nor will I support any politician who supports such drilling."

Today's article mentioned the fact that legislation already mandated that oil and gas activity be opened in ANWR in the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act signed into law in 2017. I must have still been in shock about the election, as I missed that. 

Tanner and Jorden discussed the plight of wildlife - among many topics - due to global warming. One only has to see photos of the starving polar bears to understand the effects of global warming on the ice caps. To add any more stress to the wildlife in the Arctic region is criminal. 

(Only 2 more hours, guys!)

Congratulations! You made it to 24 hours! I expect we will be hearing more and more from you and your generation. We need your energy and determination to fight for the changes needed. Nonviolently, of course.

Thank you.. and peace.

LIFE GOES ON

Not as usual, of course. However, with more than a few changes, events still occur. The younger generation is faced with monumental changes. In our family, several instances of what many fear will be the "new normal" have happened.

My youngest grandson, Travis, recently graduated from high school and celebrated his 18th birthday shortly thereafter. The family is extremely proud of this young man. He's not only been a good student all of his school years, but since he was big enough to handle the golf clubs his dad Matthew bought him he has amazed us with his golfing skills!

1st Place 2014

Playing in Junior PGA
Tournaments all these
years has improved his  performance and
given him a lot of good experience. Travis won his first tournament when he was 11-years old.

               (Travis - 2nd from left - Score 75)

By the time Travis entered Vandegrift High School here in Austin he was good enough to make the Vipers Junior Varsity Golf Team. While in high school he continued to play well enough that in his senior year he received more than one offer of a golf scholarship at colleges around the country. Mom and Dad decided to keep him in Texas and close enough that he could visit home often. In April the family visited Lubbock Christian University in Lubbock, Texas. Travis will begin classes there August 16th on not only a golf scholarship, but also an honor scholarship! Needless to say, we are very proud of our young scholar/athlete. The teacher to student ratio at LCU is such that it should be possible to hold some in-school classes adhering to social distancing guidelines. Of course, the golf course is one of the safest places to be during a pandemic.

*******************************************

Due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the uncertainty regarding celebrations, the Steiner Ranch development where Travis and his family live decided to give the 2020 high school graduates a parade!

At last! Vandegrift High School held graduation ceremonies this past week at their football stadium complete with masks and social distancing. Each graduate walked across the stage with their parents to celebrate this milestone and receive that important document, the diploma.

The Riders - Matthew, Travis, Amy

Sister Kelly joins them.

****************************************

And finally an important birthday! Travis turned 18 last Sunday!

He and Dad played golf, then spent the rest of the day boating and surfing on Lake Travis with a couple of his buddies. Tomorrow he will play in another golf tournament.

Congratulations, Travis. This grandmother will do her best to send chocolate chip cookies to you when you get to Lubbock. I will look forward to hearing of your successes in this next chapter of your life.

May the world return to some semblance of "normal" as we knew it, so in four years time you may celebrate another graduation. This time in an auditorium with your graduating classmates. And wearing only that beautiful smile on your face without the mask.

DEER HUNTING AND FOREST FIRE - VARGA STORY NUMBER 3

My late mother's half-brother, Bob, continues to relate some of the stories about the times my sister and I lived with them in Mt. Shasta, California. This was the last time we were there. I was 12-years old (almost 13), Jean and Evelyn were 10, and Bob must have been about 8 or 9. He has wonderful memories of growing up in California, but now lives in Texas. I love his stories and told him I think he is a great storyteller. I'll bet his grandchildren feel the same way.

When my sister Jean and I lived there for a few months in 1952, I have memories of going up on a mountain (maybe Mt Etna?) deer hunting. The only time in my life I had such an experience, and it is vivid in my memory...especially when they shot the first deer from the truck as we were driving up. We all jumped out of the truck to watch when they went to get the fallen deer. As I approached, they (your dad or James Vernon) had slit the stomach open. The ghastly memory of seeing the stomach and all contents in the abdomen -- and all of it moving, including the heart I can still picture. I thought the deer was still alive, and of course, I cried. (And immediately got sent back to the truck!)

Most of that trip was fun, although I got all of us in a lot of trouble for wandering off "exploring". (I was the oldest and  "leader" of our little pack, and I loved to boss the younger ones around.) I remember the adults put pine branches on the dirt floors of our tents, which we slept on in our sleeping bags. I think that was the first time I ever wore insulated underwear as well!!

Uncle Bobby answered me with the following story. His memory is much better than mine. 

"The mountain was Mt. Eddy and we went up Dale Creek, a tributary of the Shasta River. We camped at 'Dale Meadows', which is a beautiful green meadow with Dale Creek running through the middle of it. It’s about one mile long and a quarter mile wide. Fir and pine trees surround the meadow and grow half way up the slopes on both sides. The elevation is about 8000 ft. and it gets cold at night. You needed long underwear!" 

 ********************************************

"In 1961 James and I spent four days on a small lightning fire near the same spot that your Granddaddy had set up deer camp back in 1952, when you and Jean were with us. The U.S. Forest Service drove us up there in a little military jeep and dumped us out with our two days of K-rations, sleeping bags and all of our fire fighting gear. Forest Ranger Chitwood told us to get the fire out and he would be back in a day or two. He said there were lightning fires all over and he had to get back to Headquarters. He had planned on staying and helping, but the fire was too big and he couldn’t stay the time it would take to put it out! He figured it would take about four days for James and I to get the fire out completely. He left us with the rations that he had brought and he took off down the mountain in his little jeep.

"James and I had a fire line around the fire before dark and we took turns the rest of the night keeping a watch on the trees that were burning inside the fire line. The next morning we used chain saws to cut down all the trees that were still burning. We put them out after they were on the ground, cleaned up our tools and then went fishing. We had roasted trout for lunch! We saved the K-rations for a special occasion!

"After lunch, James and I talked a lot about you and Jean and our family deer hunting trip back in 1952. We had a good laugh about us four kids getting a whipping for wandering so far from camp that we couldn’t hear Mom hollering for us. My whipping didn’t hurt that much. Did yours? I guess Mom got pretty scared when she couldn’t find us."

It must not have hurt me very much, as I don't even remember the "whipping". I do remember how scared and angry your mom was. My dad probably would have killed me! I was probably thankful we only got her whippings.

"We also laughed about the deer killing that took place. We were on our way home, not going up to camp. As I remember it, we were about a mile from where we had camped when we all saw that big five-point buck about the same time. Mom told us kids to be quiet and to stay in the truck! James was the first one to jump out

James Vernon Varga
Ca. 1952

with his gun, while the truck was still moving! Your Granddaddy got the truck stopped, grabbed his gun, jumped out and saw that James was about to shoot the buck before your Granddaddy could even take aim. Your Granddaddy started hollering, 'Don't shoot James!', Don't shoot James!, Don't shoot!', then BOOM! Your Granddaddy shot and broke the deer’s back. James had to shoot the buck in the head. Your Granddaddy and James started dressing the deer out, while quarreling over what your Granddaddy had just done. James said to Granddaddy,  'I had a good bead on his neck, but I didn’t shoot because of all the hollering that you were doing. I thought there must be a good reason for me not to shoot. Like, if I did I would kill somebody!' Your Granddaddy said, 'I figured you would miss and I couldn’t get a bead on his neck, that tree was in the way, so I decided to break his back. I knew you could finish him off!' About that time they were rolling the guts out and you showed up and started screaming. Your Granddaddy was upset and a little ashamed of himself and he was a little harsh telling you to get back to the truck. You probably had never seen so much killing with blood and guts before. You know your Granddaddy, and know he felt bad about the way he spoke to you, even if he never told you. 

"We all had a good time most of the time on that deer hunt and camping trip!"

Uncle Bobby, the description of what you told me happened is so gruesome I almost get sick reading it. I know that's why I have never wanted to hunt or go with anyone to do so. The trauma of that scene stays with me to this day. Because of it, I don't even remember Granddaddy scolding me.

"Back to the Forest Fire! James and I spent the rest of the day just fishing and playing. We did cut a bunch of fir boughs for our beds that night. Sure better than sleeping on the cold hard ground. About sundown a Forest Service plane flew over us and dropped out a big box by parachute. James and I got really excited and ran out into the meadow where it had landed. We dragged it and the parachute over by our campfire and opened the box up. We could hardly believe what was in it. A bunch of insulated containers with four steaks about a pound apiece, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, dinner rolls and enough sweet rolls and donuts to kill the two of us. All of it was still hot! There was also ice cold butter, milk, and jelly. We ate good those four days we were there at Dale Meadows. We also used the parachute as a tent at night and for shade during the heat of the day while we were resting. They did finally come and picked us up."

I'm glad you remember some of the same things I do... only better! Scary that you and James were all alone fighting that fire. Bet they don't do things like that anymore. Must not have been the horrific drought back then as we've had in recent years. Glad you two made it okay!

"Just so you know, about 95% of forest fires are started by lightning and are not dangerous. The only danger involved in that 95% is to the people fighting the fires and them making stupid mistakes. The other 5% become dangerous because they are started by people at lower elevations or the environmentalists have had a hand in, or 'Let it burn. It's natural', governmental policies. James and I weren't ever in any danger. We worked hard for a few hours, then played the next few days until we were picked up. James was a great brother. He always found ways to make whatever the situation was fun and memorable."

You know what what, Uncle Bobby? I'll bet you always made every situation fun and memorable, too!

Here's to good memories,
Marilyn

Calf Branding and Horse Breaking - Varga Story Number 2

Having reconnected with my "Uncle" Bobby, I have had the opportunity to share my memories of the times my sister Jean and I went to live with his dad, my Granddaddy, in our childhood. Bobby, his sister Evelyn, and older brother James Vernon were my mother's half-siblings. I told Bobby that I remembered very little about Granddaddy other than he was very good-natured, and I really loved him.

The first time we went to live with them was in early 1945, during World War II. My mother was having a hard time taking care of us while working and it was very difficult to find a place to live that would take children as well. When my dad was stationed at Fort Chaffee in Arkansas, Mother went to work in Little Rock. A young woman also married to a soldier was living with us to share expenses. Children were not allowed in the apartment we lived in, but this young woman took care of me and my sister during the day while Mother was at work. We had to be very quiet and never go out of the apartment. Of course, we were eventually discovered and Mother was given a 60-day eviction notice. That may have been the reason we were taken to Granddaddy Varga's in Mount Shasta, California. Uncle Bobby answered the questions I had about not only the events I recalled, but gave me a fascinating look at my grandfather and the life they lived. These were some of our written conversations.

My strongest memory from that time was of going to a roundup of cattle. We ate food from what was known at one time as a "chuck wagon". I was watching cowboys throw a calf they had roped to the ground, then brand it with a hot branding iron. I was horrified and started crying because I could hear the calf's cries, and I knew it must have been hurting. An adult pulled me away. There were lots of people there, not just our family. I have no idea who's cattle they were.

That must have been the first time we lived with you, as I was only about 6-years old. I also remember around that time watching Granddaddy through a wooden rail fence as he rode on a bucking horse. One story I heard was that he once broke horses for the Forest Rangers. True?

"Your Granddaddy was a cowboy at heart and he loved working cattle. The ranch you remember was the Robinson Ranch in Shasta Valley near Edgewood, California. Your Granddaddy and your Great-Aunt Babalou’s husband (Shorty) went to work there in the 30’s (The Depression). Your Granddaddy didn’t have a job there at the time you were there, but always volunteered his services during branding time. He and Mother always loaded us kids up and we always got to go, too. At one time or another I think someone from the Varga family worked there until 1968. I even worked there for about four months. It was a great ranch for kids with ponds and creeks and hills to climb. There were ducks, fish, deer and cottontail rabbits to hunt. The women folk kind of turned us kids loose.

(Pinterest)

"Anyway, the 'chuck wagon' you remember was there to ensure there were plenty of supplies to feed everybody. There were usually 4-8 families plus numerous single cowboys that would show up, knowing if they worked hard they would get a free meal. All the women brought salads and desserts. The Chuck wagon furnished the tables, benches, pots and pans, beans, flour, salt, pepper and lard to fry up the meat for lunch and supper that night.

(Public Domain)

"The cowboys would round up some of cows and calves on horseback. Then a cowboy, on a cutting horse, would cut out a calf, rope it by the neck and drag it over by the branding fire where he would jump off his cutting horse, throw the calf to the ground, tie a piggin’ string around three legs and hold the calf to the ground. Then, another cowboy would run over from the fire with a hot branding iron, two buckets and his pocket knife. He would brand the calf, and if it was a bull, cut off its testicles, throw those in one of the buckets, reach in the other bucket, that was filled with antiseptic (It smelled and looked like creosote to me!), take out a brush and doctor the calf’s little injured area. The cowboy holding the calf would take the noose off its neck, untie the piggin’ and let the calf run back to its mommy. The cowboy would coil up his rope, get on his horse and go cut out another calf and the process would start all over again. The cowboys all switched jobs with one of the other boys when they got bored with doing the job they had. It always looked to me like every cowboy enjoyed it all, especially your Granddaddy. There was always a lot of bawling from the calves, mooing from their mothers, and yelling and hollering from the cowboys. I would think a little girl of six years would find all this exciting!! You might have helped the women prepare the meat for lunch and dinner.

"While all this was going on the women were cleaning and cutting up the meat, putting it in a seasoned batter of milk and eggs, then rolling it in seasoned flour, frying it in lard until it was golden and crispy, like Colonel Sanders' golden chicken tenders. They were also setting up the tables and benches, putting the salads and desserts on the table, setting individual places at the table with a plate, a glass, a knife and fork. When everything was ready one of them would ring the big triangle dinner bell. The kids came running from the ponds and creeks and hills and fields.

"The men came running from the pastures and corrals and barns and sheds. What a wonderful meal with family and friends and your Granddaddy. By the way Marilyn, that one bucket was completely empty by then! And you thought you were eating 'chicken nuggets'! (Smile)

(Paul Vernon Varga)

"Your Granddaddy did break horses for the U.S. Forest Service. In fact I have a picture, somewhere, (see above) of him on a bucking horse in the Shasta National stock corral there in Mount Shasta. He worked steady for the Forest Service from the late 30’s to around 1950. He also planted fish in most of the lakes in northern California. Most of the high mountain lakes were barren of any fish. Now they are brimming with Eastern Brook, German Brown, and Rainbow trout. The environmentalists are now trying to get the government to poison all of these lakes because fish were not native. (Stupid!)"

I have more recollections to come of the time we all lived together again in 1951. It's a wonder we survived some of these escapades! Stay tuned.

Peace,
Marilyn

A Nation Cries in Outrage

Chernobyl Reactor after meltdown.

"I remember Dan Rather saying about Chernobyl, 'If it weren't for the wind, nobody would know this story.' The wind was the person that told the story. Left to humans, it would have remained secret and hidden".. Linda Hogan

Not that long ago. Today we might say, "If it weren't for that iPhone, nobody would know the truth of what happened to George Floyd or Eric Garner or Ahmaud Arbery." 

A nation cries in outrage as another example of racism in our country is exposed. What do policemen like Derek Chauvin and Daniel Pantaleo think while they are in the act of murdering someone in full view of the public? Are they in an altered state and not aware of the consequences of their actions? Can they understand the pain they are inflicting? Surely they know they are in no danger with other officers standing by. They also know there are other means of subduing the suspect.

Daniel Pantaleo's chokehold on Eric Garner in 2014 caused an acute asthma attack, killing him on the sidewalk as he, too, pleaded to be allowed to breathe. Pantaleo was placed on desk duty and received full pay and benefits for 5-years until a Grand Jury failed to indict him. Only then was he fired from his job -- the only punishment. (I did read that his wife divorced him. Good for her!) Again, "if it weren't for the iPhone videos", we might not know the full truth of what happened. 

Punitive action appears to be taking place much sooner this time, as all of the officers involved in George Floyd's death have been fired and charges brought against Chauvin for the brutal act of kneeling on another human being's neck for nearly 9-minutes, all the while listening to the pitiful pleas from his victim that he cannot breathe. It may take a speedy trial and conviction on murder charges to put an end to the chaos and riots resulting from what began as peaceful protests across our nation. 

(Kent State - 1970 - The Guardian)

I cannot help but think of the 50-year-old Kent State shootings "Kent State Massacre" as I hear the National Guard has been brought in to try to control the riots now happening all over the country. That resulted in only four deaths at Kent State. However, the state of our country today is in such turmoil, and the rise of groups such as the White Nationalists, agitators, gun lovers, and racists insert themselves in protests at every opportunity to create even more divisiveness. I suspect that peaceful protests were the aim at first in Minneapolis, then those types infiltrated the original groups.

(Police Station Burns in Minneapolis - KMOV.com)

Most of us have much appreciation for law enforcement. Heroic deeds by most of them go unnoticed on a daily basis. It is a dangerous profession which takes brave individuals to lay their lives on the line. However, there are many "macho" types who go into police work thrilled to be legally carrying a gun and having the opportunities to show their strength and ability to use whatever force necessary to subdue "criminals". No doubt many -- as in all professions -- are racists at heart as well. Statistics bear witness to the fact that minorities far surpass the numbers of arrests, convictions, and residents of our prisons.

Recruitment of policemen should definitely include background checks of their involvement in any suspicious groups. (Maybe they do.) It goes without saying that those such as Derek Chauvin who have multiple complaints about excessive force should not be allowed to continue to serve. 

Of course, it's easy to sit back and observe and judge from the comfort of home and easy chair, watching with criticism what the TV cameras are projecting to our screens. We know that sensationalism is what creates ratings, so they will show enough that raises our hackles. Surely there are nonviolent protests about these horrific deaths. In the meantime, we can pray that something or someone -- certainly not the likes of our President, who does more to incite -- can put out the flames of injustice we are witnessing. Even a 12-year-old understands better than Trump.

Yesterday "Obama said. 'But we have to remember that for millions of Americans, being treated differently on account of race is tragically, painfully, maddeningly ‘normal’ — whether it’s while dealing with the health care system or interacting with the criminal justice system, or jogging down the street, or just watching birds in a park.'"

Words to remember.

Peace..

VARGA FAMILY STORIES - NUMBER I

I have recently heard from my late mother's half-brother I call Uncle Bobby - even though he is much younger than I. My mother's parents divorced when she was very young, and both remarried. My grandfather, Paul Varga, married a woman named Neva (I called her Aunt Neva as a child). They had four children and Bobby was the youngest. James Vernon was their oldest. My mother Viola, and her brother Bill were Granddaddy's first children.

My mother and dad separated and divorced when my sister and I were young. At those times, Mother would send us to live with relatives. Very few wanted to take on two small children at the same time. Granddaddy and Neva agreed two different times in my childhood. They lived at Mt. Shasta, California at the time. 

I have a few memories of those times, and I shared what I remembered with my Uncle Bobby. I told him I feel I don't know enough about my Granddaddy. Bobby answered me with many wonderful stories about him and their lives. I know my children will enjoy hearing about such a different way of life and a great-grandfather that only one of them ever met. This is Story Number One:

GENTLEMAN GRANDDADDY

"Your Granddaddy was the nicest, gentlest man I have ever known. He was polite and respectful to everyone, especially towards all women. However, he demanded respect from other men. The only time I can remember him cussing around Mother was when James Vernon came out of the bedroom into the living room on New Year’s Day, 1953 with your Granddaddy’s old 12-gauge shotgun. Mother, Dad, Evelyn, the cat and I were all lounging around the living room after eating New Year's Dinner, waiting on Mother to get our pie. She had made four different pies that morning and they were all lined up on one of the countertops in the kitchen. 

James Vernon Varga

"James Vernon stood there in the living room by the wood stove, which was burning really good because of the cold weather, and said, 'Well, I’ve got it fixed Dad!' He pumped a round into the chamber and the gun went off! What a loud BLAST!! The cat, which had been sitting on my lap, climbed up my chest, on up my face, launched itself off the top of my head to the ceiling, ran across the ceiling and came down somewhere in the kitchen, and it was GONE! Your Granddaddy said, 'Well, I’ll be God Dammed, James!!'  We all looked at Dad and it got real quiet as the living room started filling up with black soot and smoke, then we all burst out laughing, including your Granddaddy!

"James had shot a big hole through the stove pipe! The blast made a hole through the living room wall, came out the kitchen wall, sprayed all the pies with sheetrock, went through the kitchen ceiling, into the attic and out the roof! 

"Dad got up from his chair and put out the wood stove and went outside in the snow to get new stove pipe and put a tarp on the roof. Mom went into the kitchen and started cleaning up the pies and the mess. James sneaked back into his bedroom to put away his tools and the shotgun, Evelyn and I looked at each other and laughed until we cried. What a wonderful day after eating all that pie!

The highlight really was the cat!"

Uncle Bobby

I laughed quite a bit myself! Thanks a lot, Uncle Bobby.

Stay tuned for Story Number Two.

Peace and love,

Marilyn