Sunday, July 3, 2005
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Have a Bang Up 4th of July!
Fireworks: public domain photo by Jon Sullivan/pdphoto.org
STUDENT UPDATE -- Ben Johnson
by Ben Johnson
I might as well start this out the way I start out all updates -- by saying it has been way too long since I wrote last. I have been very busy in the last few months. In early May I finished the classroom portion of my college classes, leaving me with an internship and a general education class that I can take over the Internet. That is all that separates me from my certifications as a Ford mechanic.
The only problem with that is there has been very little business at Juettner Motors which is where I was working for my internships, which means they were unable to hire me back. When I received this news I decided to apply at some other dealerships and places of the sort, but it was pretty much the same story -- no work.
That was when a friend of mine that I've been around since elementary school called and asked if I would like to work for his dad, who is a well driller. So I decided to try that out for a summer and put off doing my internship until this winter, being well drilling is seasonal work for the most part. So I started repairing wells and have also helped drill one well in the five weeks that I have been working there.
Then last week I received a call from my instructor at school and he told me that I had worked enough hours in a dealership to meet the requirements for my internship. So I am currently in the process of re-registration for my internship. This fall I will take my general ed class and I will then be done with school forever, maybe.
But in the meantime I am going to continue to stay busy with the hundreds of other things I have going on these summer months. Currently I am well drilling during the day, farming in the evening, and finishing my restoration job on our 1940 M Farmall that I started this winter. (Editor's Note: This part of the story will told separately.)
After starting my new job, I sort of lost track of time until a couple of weeks ago somebody said the Barrett tractorcade was scheduled for the 25th of June. The tractorcade is a group of people that drive old tractors from Elbow lake to Barrett and have a makeshift parade once they get to Barrett. Saturday I was over to the farm before 7 a.m. trying to start the nearly restored "M," but I ran out of time. I didn't feel real bad that I had to take a non-restored tractor on the ride because there were some other unfinished tractors and also because it was a lot of fun.
We drove on gravel roads most of the time and the county police escorted us the whole time so our mile long train of tractors didn't have to worry about traffic. Now I have a week to figure out the problem with the "M" and on July 3rd I am going to drive it in the Evansville parade and we are also going to tour the country a little bit before and after the parade.
I know I have been thinking about something else I was going to write about but now I can't think of it, which is probably OK, being I was kind of long winded with the rest of this. If I think of what it was I will write again and include it. Well now it is time to get out of this wonderful heat and humidity so I will talk to you later.
Roy Droel, left; Roy & Betty Weiland Droel's wedding picture, right.
UPDATE -- Introducing Roy & Betty Droel
by Betty Droel
You have asked your subscribers to share a little about themselves, and this will be just a bird's eye view of a very fine man, Roy Droel. I happen to be fortunate enough to be sharing his life, and we are living in a suburb of Minneapolis-St. Paul ... in a home Roy and Edith built about 40 years ago. An acre of manicured lawn, and more trees than I can count shading a beautiful back yard. Mostly evergreens that shed their cones. We have lots of fresh air and sunshine to keep it up.
Roy just finished mowing this acre of back yard...
Roy and Edith had been married for 50 years when she died of cancer. A devastating experience, to say the least, for Roy and his two boys, Darrel and Rodger.
Roy worked as a machinist at Union Welding -- the supervisor for over 30 years -- until he retired. Roy and Edith had meeting in their home until Edith died in 1991.
Roy and I were married February 18, 1993. I had worked for Dr. Thomas W. Miller, the chiropractor, for 13 years, but I am retired. (See Bulletin 152)
The Roy & Edith Droel Family, circa 1955.
This is where the story starts for us. That is a picture of Roy and Edith with Rodger on the left and Darrel on the right. They came to our home for meeting when I was still at home. They were such a shy, quiet family. You can see by the paper upside down that Roy wanted to hide. They stayed for dinner one Sunday, and I took this picture. This was probably taken about 50 years ago. We always felt that the Droels were a special family.
I can not take it in yet that I have married this fine man. Edith was such a pretty and sweet lady. We always thought they were the ideal family. Both boys are very successful businessmen.
Any more that can be said about our family, is that we are very happy, and thankful for our good health, except for a stroke Roy suffered about four years ago which left him with a weak left side. The most important part of our life is our faith. When all the joys and sorrows of life are past, that is when our privilege of both being brought up in truth will see us through the next step of life.
Betty Weiland Droel's birth family.
My brother Rich and and his wife, Verlaine (left), live in Coon Rapids, Minnesota. Roy and Betty Droel (center) live in MoundsView, seven miles away. Ruth and Ken Kitto (right) live in Apache Junction, Arizona. Our mother, Rosalyn Weiland (front), is in an assisted living residence in Coon Rapids; she will be 100 years old on July 10, 2005. Harold, my brother, died; his widow, Anita Pfingsten Weiland, lives in Yankton, South Dakota, and was not present when this was taken.
One of the questions Dorothy asked to help us write our biographies was, "How are you related to the Matriarch -- or how were you introduced to The Bulletin?"
Well I knew this dear lady, the Matriarch, since the polio season of 1946, so many years ago, as that is when we heard about this Dorothy Dake that had gotten polio. A sad and much talked about disaster ... then I met her when we were in their field in about 1959.
As far as how I got acquainted with The Bulletin, that is a puzzle to me. I am getting very forgetful. Was it that you had written me and commented on being busy with The Bulletin, or what? Of course my curiosity was insisting I learn more about this Bulletin that Dorothy was putting out ... and then I got a sample copy. So, I was hooked!!!!
It is such a happiness to get it each Saturday, and thank you so much for letting me be a part of it. I wish we really knew how hard you and Jerrianne work to put this out. The layout alone would take hours, plus the sorting and editing, and making it look so professional. I'm afraid we could easily take it for granted.
We thank you,
Roy and Betty
The Matriarch Speaks W
by Dorothy (Dake) Anderson
Who Is This?
Let's Play a Guessing Game: Whenever it is handy to do so we will run a picture of someone of the subscribers or staff members of our e-magazine. Tell us who you think it is -- we will let you know who was the first to guess it right -- and the correct guess -- in the following week's Bulletin.
(Send us some to run; we will line them up in our staging area to take their turn.)
How many can you identify?
Answers to last week's mystery pictures (click here to review them):
Another fine Bulletin. I enjoyed every bit of it. Keep up the great work. The guessing game is -- on the second photo. My dear brothers. Harry Jr., Donald W. and Dwight Douglas. All Andersons.
Mavis Anderson Morgan
I don't think I know the people on the left, but I DO know the guys on the right -- the Anderson brothers: Junior, Don and Dwight.
Very good picture of Ervin Wrobbel and "Anty" Liz. [Elizabeth Dake McCalla] I wonder if the three boys may be Don in the center and two of his brothers, Junior and Dwight. Just a guess, but sure knew Ervin very well.
The two on the left are, Ervin Wrobbel and my Great Auntie Elizabeth.The police line-up on the right is the Anderson boys, Harry Jr., Donald W. and Dwight, demonstrating the three standard poses for good photography.
Buddo (otherwise known as Donnie Anderson)
Mystery pictures -- The one on the left is Ervin Wrobbel and Aunty Elizabeth! Don't know those three guys except I think the one in the middle is Mr. Don Anderson, himself!
I don't know the happy couple on the left ... however, the other photo is of three of the nicest guys one could ever know ... my brothers!!!! Harry Jr., Donald, and Dwight Anderson. It was maybe taken 40 years or so ago.
Elaine (Anderson) Wold
Photo Editor's Note: The label on the photo said 1970 -- 35 years ago.
I was going through The Bulletin this weekend, another fabulous edition, I have to say; I scrolled down to one of my favorite sections: Who Is this? As I looked at the picture with the three young gentlemen on the right, I noticed quite the similarity between myself and the gentleman in the middle. At first, I thought it might have been me in the picture, but I don't think that I have ever had a flat top hair cut like that.
Then I realized that the picture was of my grandfather, Don Anderson. I couldn't believe the similarities between Grandpa and myself. I showed people at work and they thought the same thing. From the smile, the ears, the nose and even the way we stand. It's quite funny how these traits carry over, generation to generation.
Maple Grove, MN
The mystery picture on the right is of Dad [Harry, Jr.], Uncle Don, and Uncle Dwight [Anderson]. I remember seeing a copy of it in one of our family albums. I printed it out for Dad and he enjoyed seeing it! :)
La Mirada, CA
The mystery picture on the left is Ervin Wrobbel (Grandma and Grandpa Dake’s neighbor) and Aunt Elizabeth. In the right photo is Uncle Don [Anderson] in the middle and his brothers but I'm not sure of their names. Pretty sharp looking group!
I have some nice memories of Ervin. He was a wonderful man. When I was growing up, Duane and I (and later Shari, also) would spend a few days' "vacation" at Grandma and Grandpa Dakes each summer. I can remember helping Grandpa hook his Ford tractor to the two wheel wagon to go down to the corner and get the mail. Of course, I got to drive, which made me pretty hot stuff. We would zip right along at half throttle in low gear which was probably 1-1/2 mph.
Anyway, once or twice during our stay we would detour to Ervin and Helen's (his lovely wife) on some important errand. It seems like Helen always had fresh baked cookies or cake and lemonade. Ervin had a way of talking to kids that made us feel we were important. Thanks for the photo and memories.
Coral Springs, FL
By Larry Dake
"Very bad I need manager for shoe repair shop," she said in broken English with an Asian accent, "I have other business I must do. You come now?"
I had explained on the telephone that I had gone to shoe repair schooling, and then I had owned a shoe repair shop for four-and-a-half years. I had explained that with the recession, our small town was not doing well, and I said we wanted to move to Oregon.
"Yes," I could manage her shoe repair shop.
Now she was asking me to come right away. "It very busy shop," she said, "I pay good salary -- $18,000. Maybe you buy shop from me? Can you come?"
"Yes I can come," I said; "If I come in one month, will that be soon enough?"
"Come soon as you can!" she said. "Shop very busy. I need help."
"I'll come as soon as I can," I said.
I hung up the phone and took a deep breath. I thought, I can call right back and say no, if I change my mind.
We didn't take moving lightly. The Sunday morning church meeting gathered in our home. And we really liked our little house. It was a unique, old, two-story on a large lot that was surrounded on two sides by a natural park with a pond. On the third side of the house was a beautiful stand of oak trees. The kitchen had a charming little breakfast nook, perfect for our little family to cozy into. From our kitchen window we looked out over our vegetable garden and the large pond. The pond was bordered by cattails and we would watch ducks and geese swimming there in the summer. In the winter some school boys came down and shoveled off a place to skate.
The top of our front door was round, and it had an unusual round French window. Above the door was a rounded wooden awning.
At the bottom of the stairway to the second floor bedrooms, was another French window. The living room picture window had leaded glass across the top of it -- just like Grandpa and Grandma Dake had when I was a kid. Just outside our picture window was a large bird feeder. Beyond the bird feeder at the edge of the yard was a swing beneath an old box elder tree. Next to the swing was a sandbox.
On the street side of the house, a row of mature pines separated us from the quiet street. One of the trees, a fir, I think, had been designated as the tallest tree of its species in the state of Minnesota. The town was a proper little Midwestern town of about 600. The school was walking distance and there was plenty of room for the kids and dog to run and play.
That fall a turtle had come up from the pond and we had all watched her lay her eggs in our yard. It seemed to us that we lived in an idyllic setting in which to raise our family.
What more could we want -- besides warmer weather? But even at that, we kept warm; we had those wonderful, old, cast iron, hot water heaters throughout the house; the kind that hissed and gurgled in the night.
Right now our little dreamland was covered in a beautiful blanket of snow. There had been a snowstorm on the first day of December, when Sherry's mom had come to visit, and temperatures had dropped to twenty to thirty below. I was away driving truck at the time, so the brother workers (our ministers) had come and shoveled the snow before the Sunday morning meeting.
Since selling our "unprofitable" shoe repair shop, I had -- in addition to selling "Buy term, and invest the difference" -- driven the gravel and livestock trucks, hauled corn for a farmer during corn harvest, painted and sold small works of art, dabbled with selling motor oil additives, and been turned down for a number of jobs I had applied for.
Now, I was unemployed again after quitting my latest job of long-haul trucking. It was looking like we'd have to break down and "Go where the good jobs are!"
We'd heard that advice more than once or twice before.
After spending five weeks on the road traversing the western half of the country, I reasoned that if we had to load up and move, it would be as easy to move half way across the country as it would be to move to Minneapolis. And we knew we didn't want to move back to Minneapolis.
I had lived in "The Cities" (Blaine to be exact) from sixth grade until finishing my second year of Community College.
After we were married, Sherry and I had again lived in "The Cities" while I learned the shoe repair trade. But "The Cities" was not the place where our heart was. We came from the country and, one way or another, we were determined to return to the country!
The general consensus at the time was that it was near impossible for a young man to start farming, so I had looked to owning a small business in a rural community -- namely, shoe repair! A business I could start with a shoe string and a small loan from Mom and Dad!
But foreign-made shoes were getting cheaper and cheaper, and shoe repair shops were getting more and more limited to high traffic locations -- like in big shopping centers -- in "The Cities."
After the philosophy of the book, What Color is Your Parachute? I decided my "unique advantage" in the job market was my training and experience in the shoe repair business.
I could repair shoes. I could manage a shop.
So it was, that I was looking in the Help Wanted ads of the Shoe Service Magazine, which still came dutifully to our address every month. As luck would have it, I almost immediately found the ad for a Shoe Repair Shop Manager needed in Beaverton, Oregon.
Beaverton, we discovered on the map, was a suburb of Portland, the evergreen, winter-wonderland I had so recently visited -- and been so favorably impressed by!
As suddenly as I had of late found myself unemployed, I now found myself hired to be the new manager of this shoe repair shop. I would have liked to have had an interview with my new employer, but she hadn't asked for one; that was just as well, as I didn't have the means to go for one anyway.
Instead, we would settle for a few more phone calls to her, with questions about the job, and we'd call a family friend from my childhood, who now lived a little over an hour south of Beaverton, and we'd ask him questions about Oregon.
When I called the Asian shoe repair lady back, she was too busy waiting on customers to talk much. And language was a barrier to meaningful conversation.
But my Minnesota friend in Oregon expressed great enthusiasm for the state, even after having lived there for several years. He heartily welcomed us to Oregon, and he emphasized the state's mild climate and natural wonders.
The only problem was -- well, there were a lot of problems -- we owned a house, a dog, and a cat. And we didn't have much money.
The trucking check would be coming in the mail, but it was well spent on bills, including the large phone bill we were expecting.
But the very idea of moving to this far off place, where winter never comes, and where jobs can be found by simply telephoning prospective employers, began to fill us with enthusiasm. We were ready to chart new territory.
We really didn't have to make a decision. The answer was laid out before us.
It was time to "Start packing!"
Sherry and Sarah harvesting beets, left; Sarah and Sherry at swing.
Our kitchen window looked out over garden and pond. It seemed to us that we lived in an idyllic setting in which to raise our family. There was plenty of room for the kids to run and play.
The Bolivian Beat
By Kjirsten Swenson
Photo Editor's Note: Kjirsten returned to Bolivia for a second year of independent study, prior to entering medical school at Baylor University in Houston later this summer. She has recently been trekking in Peru with her father, Sheldon, older brother Shane and his friend Marshall, and her younger brother Tyler, and his friend Greg.
Greg & Kjirsten, Mt. Santa Cruz, Peru.
by Sheldon Swenson, Guest Columnist
Day Cuatro: Side trip up to the south side of Mt. Santa Cruz. We have basically circled this mountain the last two days. Tyler and Greg rest up at Camp with the donkeys and Demetrio. We climb up to the 16,500 foot level, right to the base of glaciers coming off the peaks of Santa Cruz and adjacent mountains. I can count seven different mountain peaks visible, all much higher than us, with a lot of snow and glaciers. This is the highest I have ever been other than flying. Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the Lower 48 is around 14,000 -- something, for comparison.
We have lunch, take a lot of pictures and descend back to camp enjoying views of lakes, waterfalls, mountains and glaciers as we return. This turns out to be the most scenic area of the trek.
Day Cinco: We start out climbing 2,000 feet to another 16,000 foot pass to get to the next valley. Thank goodness for the donkeys! Shane by now has taught us all the most efficient way to climb, one small step at time, find your zone and just try keep going. According to his altimeter watch, we are climbing about 1,250 feet per hour ... not bad for a bunch of oxygen-starved gringos!
More great views from the top of the pass, rest a bit and than continue along a valley, stop for lunch, climb another lower pass, more great views of a different set of mountains, descend to a larger valley, see a herd of alpacas, pass a very remote village.
A boy comes to visit asking if we have any antibiotics for someone with pneumonia. We do, but unfortunately they are in a bag on a donkey far ahead of us. We could camp here but because it is early continue a couple of more hours to shorten the next day's hike. Kjirsten breaks down and gives some chocolate to a lady herding sheep. She is carrying wool and spins that into yarn while the sheep graze.
Day Seis: This morning we rose and packed early, and after Demetrio collected one donkey who would have rather trotted home, we climb the last 16,000 foot pass. We are literally in the clouds, then descend into another beautiful valley with lakes, scattered with grazing cows. We descend to a village about eight miles further down the trail, getting back towards more people and lower elevation, around 12,000 feet.
We camp on the edge of a soccer field. About 10 young children come to watch us set up camp hoping for candy, money, bread or whatever. We enjoy watching them and they seem fascinated watching us. I desperately want to take pictures; it is probably a good thing my camera batteries are dead. They are cute with their Andean clothing, brown eyes, friendly inquisitive smiles, at first shy but slowly creeping closer and closer until finally literally rubbing shoulders when we bring out the rook cards and Thermarest chairs to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine and the views of the mountains and village countryside.
I count 14 children huddled around us at one point, others trying to get a soccer game going. One of the young adults comes over, challenges us to a soccer game but we are too tired for that. This village has no road, no electricity, likely no phones, very humbling to observe this at this day and age. Their connection with the outside world is a path to the nearest larger village about three hours away.
We came here to see mountains, but observing the people, especially in remote areas, and the simple way they live has also been very humbling and thought-provoking and has added to the richness of our experience.
To be continued...
Crossing unbridged stream, left; lady shepherd spinning wool, right.
Greetings from the Netherlands
by Ary Ommert, Jr.
Maassluis, The Netherlands
On June 21 was my birthday and this year I saw Abraham, which means a man becomes 50 years!!!! On Monday, the day before my birthday, my colleagues decorated the counter with flags and they had printed out on paper that I became 50 and didn't want to know that. Also I got an Abraham from chocolate, tastes very good.
Tuesday, June 21, I had my day off and some friends came in the evening to celebrate it. Also got cards and e-mail greetings. I can't send pictures from my camera; for some reason, I'm not able to unload my camera into the computer.
The past week has been very hot; we had our first heat wave this summer, four days over 30 degrees C. Glad I didn't have to work on Wednesday and Thursday. Even on the beach it was very hot and the difference with the sea water was big. It took a while before you were used to and able to swim for a minute. At the moment the sea water is warmer.
A new princess was born last week. The Queen's son Willem-Alexander and his wife Maxima got their second child. Her name is princess Amalia. Have enclosed a picture from the crown-prince showing his newborn daughter.
In the garden-center it was not busy, too warm inside and most people were on the beach or inside their houses. Schools have holidays now; many people will go on holidays in coming weeks.
During the weekend we had some thunderstorms and now it has cooled off.
Prince Willem-Alexander & Princess Alexia
by Frans de Been
Oosterhout, The Netherlands
Flight Show of the Dutch Air Force
Yesterday we (Marloes and I) went to what we call an "Open Day" at a flight show of the Dutch Air Force. This was a two day event and more than 380,000 people (Friday 120,000 attendance and Saturday more than 260,000) were there for the two days. We saw a lot of planes and helicopters and all kind of plane things.
My daughter and I have sometimes the same interests. So we went to the airstrip, which is 30 minutes with a bike. We went there from 10 a.m. till 5 p.m. I send you some pictures of this day.
So hope you like this. Have a nice day.
This and That
by Elaine Wold
The Fourth of July
by Elaine Anderson Wold
What is the meaning of the fourth of July? It means different things to different people. When I was a young girl, it meant that we would make hay in the morning, then we would go to the Wahpeton park for a family picnic with all of Mom's relatives.
Grandma had her usual cold fried chicken, there was lots watermelon and various foods were piled high on the tables. We kids enjoyed the swings and playground there. A few were lucky to have some firecrackers, or smoky snakes, but the evening was the real blast when we returned home and had sparklers! It's strange there were not more burned fingers than there were, as we danced around waving our sparklers, writing our names in the dark of the summer evening.
Picnics were the usual way of celebrating in our area during those years. Sometimes there was a parade, with decorated old "model Ts" and fancy floats, with everyone having flags and bunting decorating their displays. One can feel the heart beating as the flags went by, carried by what we thought were "old" soldiers...
Earle J. Grant describes it well....
Our country is so festive
When the fourth of July comes,
With the blare of bugles
And the roll of drums.
In its mountain setting
Of verdant green,
Our village too, is a part
Of the joyous scene.
Activities are planned
For each and everyone
And all are invited
To join in the fun.
Fireworks are displayed
That blossom in the night
In hues of red, white, and blue,
They are a thrilling sight.
Praises are due our God
That He has blessed our nation
And that we are alive
To join the celebration!
As we grew older, we learned the real meaning of July 4th as we studied U. S. History, even though it may not have been our favorite subject in school. It was then we learned the real reason for celebrating July 4th was that on that date in 1776, the Declaration of Independence was adopted in Independence Hall in Philadelphia, declaring our country's independence from Great Britain.
We learned that not only is July 4th the birthday of our nation, but we also learned it represented that we are all created equal, that we are a free people, and we are all entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.!
It was not an event without struggle. Many of the co-signers were aware of the danger and were prepared to pay any price. Richard Stockton of New Jersey was thrown into prison where he died from mistreatment. Lyman Holt and George Walton of Georgia had their property confiscated and were imprisoned. William Whipple of New Hampshire had his leg shattered by a cannonball, requiring the use of a wooden leg. John Morton of Pennsylvania was ostracized by his friends and relatives and died eight months later. Francis Lewis of New York had his home ransacked and burned, and his wife was thrown into prison. Yes, the cost of freedom always runs high!
Celebrations & Observances
From the Files of 5
This Week's Special Days
July 4---Independence Day
This Week's Birthdays:
July 3---Vonnie Dake
July 5---LeRoy Dake
July 5---Jennifer Dake Horne
July 6---James Miller
July 7---Kimberly Johnson
July 8---Trenton Loredo Roberson (2 years)
More July Birthdays:
July 1---Suzanne McCorkell
July 13---Zach Bratten
July 15---Tom Morgan
July 15---William Earl Dake
July 15---Sherry Dake
July 18---Callie Printz (4 years)
July 19---Patricia Dake Meyer
July 19---Marlee Freesemann
July 19---Devon S. Stewart (11 years)
July 20---Michael Miller
July 20---Susie Miller
July 24---Jeni Larson
July 26---Tytus Joshua Myron
July 27---Wyatt Timothy Mellon (8 years)
July 29---Heather Henderson
July 29---Colleen Mellon Scott
July 30---Justin Printz
July 31---Tim Myron
July 19---Dan and Nancy Mellon (36 years)
July 27---Larry and Sherry Dake (27 years)
July 29---Charles and Ardis Sigman Quick (33 years)
Another great newsletter! Thought I'd add a couple of our family events for July. My baby sister, Colleen Mellon Scott, turns 50 on July 29. I don't think she'll mind me sharing that. Also, my child bride, Nancy, and I will celebrate 36 years of marriage on July 19. The day after we were married, was the first time man set foot on the moon.
Alta Loma, CA
I would love seeing more pictures of Kim and Rachel's grad party and a description of the event, as I was not able to attend.
Maple Grove, MN
Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?
+ LETTERS TO THE EDITORS?
Thanks so much for all your efforts to collect, edit and print The BULLETIN! It is really appreciated!
I'm sorry that Larry is not writing anymore about his days as a truck driver. I very much enjoyed every account and especially when he talked about places I know, i.e. Sweethome, Oregon, and Highway 20! Been there and done that! But I would never try taking a big truck over that road ... Bad enough in a passenger car or 4-wheel drive Jeep.
Father's Day was very special to me this year 'cause I let my mind go back over some of the experiences of some 70 years! And your Dad was a special part of my dreams! I remember the time he told my brother Dick that he could either slow down coming in his driveway or leave his car out on the County road ... and walk in! I thought he might tell him to go someplace else!
I remember doing chores and milking cows in the north side of the old barn ... and the haymow that ran the length of the barn. And the silo -- I don't remember when he quit putting silage in it ... guess when we would get silage from corn cannery.
Enough for now and will continue with more "dreams" another time.
Thanks for all of the great work on The Bulletin. You do such great work every week.
Grandpa, I might have to come check out some of the golf clubs you have on hand, because I'm trying to get into the sport again.
You both have a wonderful week and I hope to see you soon.
Maple Grove, MN
Another fine Bulletin
-- I sure enjoy them -- Keep up the good work!
Thanks, Larry, for sharing your trucking experiences -- I almost felt like I was there in the cab with you.
I was happy to see the picture of Louie and Joyce Droel (with Roy and Betty Droel). When I was dating Marian, her family went to meeting at Louie and Joyce's in rural Barnum. Their daughter Donna and Marian were in the same class in Barnum High School.
Well, I have babbled on long enough -- We got a digital camera and I have actually learned how to use it ... so I promise to send some pictures when I get that aspect of the operation figured out. I don't just rush into these hi-tech processes, you know.
Coral Springs, FL
I couldn't believe my eyes at the wonderful way you put the Lutsen trip together and the pictures fit in so well. I thank you sincerely for all the work to get that in print like that. Actually, I enjoyed reading it myself, and sent it on for Darryl and Jo to read and enjoy, too.
I enjoyed seeing the Dutch story again, too. Interesting his vocabulary which is just a bit different, but makes it unique and interesting. I don't think he knows how much we enjoy seeing his part.
I put The Bulletin right next to the computer so I could reply when I had a minute or two now and then. Just a little comment, -- the first page was so pretty with the blue words Summer Begins, and then the blue water and the blue tires. it was so real you could almost hear the water lap. I am sure those girls were pretty happy seeing their picture on the "front page"!
Dorothy, it was fun to see one of YOUR outings in print and pictures for a change. I'm getting to recognize the folks in the pictures few at a time. A storm is so scary. The sirens went off tonite, but not much more than heavy rain, thank goodness. I like to click on the links for further pictures, etc. ... makes it so interesting.
I only recognize Don in the middle of the second photo to GUESS. The others I suppose I should know, but don't. Usually the older generation I can identify with, but not these two folks. It was exciting when Colette guessed the picture. She was almost too small to remember, I thought. I remember there was a boy born named Wyatt. Was in the stroller, but I hardly saw him much,and didn't really know just where he belonged. Thought he was Beaver's brother, maybe -- but see he is his son.
FINALLY, Larry gave us some more details, but sounds like he won't have any more fascinating truck stories. He can do well with ANY story he decides to write about, though, I'm sure, and we need an update on the grandchild.
Kjirsten's story is coming to a close, too. Soon back to school. I would not want to be in those places ever ... How do they ever find their way, and what about all the bugs and animals? She is so brave, as is her family!!!
I loved the Grandma's Apron poem. It was touching -- and so true. You can't even buy a good apron nowadays. I always wear one over good clothes, but not too many do.
Sorry, Don, we don't golf, either. Hope you can sell your products there!
I thought The Bulletin was another winner, and it looks like you have plenty of script without my contributions... You don't know how much fun it was to see our story in it. Just plain exciting! I sent it to Louie and Joyce to see their picture for Roy's birthday dinner. They will be shocked!!!
Betty Weiland Droel
To search a name in Who's Who or Who's Where: click on the link to open the page, then use CONTROL F on a PC or COMMAND F on a Mac. To search for a second occurrence of the name, use CONTROL G on a PC or COMMAND G on a Mac. (This works on ANY web page with text, unless the text is converted to an image. Chances are, it works in your e-mail, too.) HINT: Search by first name only, as most entries list the family name once but do not repeat the last name for each family member. In Who's Where you can search on state or city names, too.
QUOTATION FOR THE DAY: You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism. --Erma Bombeck
EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org
This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.