We Have Moved

I'd forgotten all about this blog till the other day whenI came across a reference to it. So, if anyone is still hoping I'll blog and keep the masses updated on my adventures, I invite you to go to http://fivefeete.blogspot.com/ This is the one I keep (relatively) current.

Cheers!

Elizabeth

On The Rocks

On The Rocks, originally uploaded by wibbet_64.

I have known Ruth since 1979 when we met in high school. We had slumber parties, talked on the phone for hours, flirted with boys we liked and all too soon, we grew up. She was the first of our group of friends to get married. The result? A brood of 6 laughing, funny, silly, loving, friendly, affectionate, spiritual children who love being together and who call me "Auntie". In fact, her oldest daughter was named for me.

Silipa showed up with two things: her boyfriend whom no one had yet met, and a big sparklie on her finger. Yep, she's getting married. Her husband-to-be is half Samoan and seemed to fit right in with the rest of the family, like he was the missing piece that no one knew was missing. Everyone loved him the moment they met him.

This photo shoot definitely took me outside my comfort zone, but it was so much fun! They are all good sports and hammed it up for the camera. And I get to step outside my comfort zone some more for this family. Silipa told me she wants my camera at her wedding (I told her I'd happily send it and she could set it on a table. Not quite what she had in mind.) And I volunteered to take their engagement photos.

I think I've become the family's personal photographer. YAY!

Kissing in the Window

Kissing in the Window, originally uploaded by wibbet_64.

On Sunday (5/25) Jim, the boys and I went out to Snake Valley on the Utah/Nevada border. Jim's dad grew up out there and goes back every spring to visit his old stomping grounds. All the remains of his family's homestead is a few fenceposts, and a BLM sign that points to "Footes Ranch".

Jim's taken me out there twice, now. The first time was the first weekend of May, 2004. On our second day there, Jim and I decided it would be best if he dated other people before making a decision to marry me. It was the right decision, but oh! How I hated it. The next morning found me curled up in my sleeping bag, hair a mess, morning breath, and miserable. Jim came to talk to me, curled himself around me, and proposed. He said he loved me, wanted to spend his life with me. I said yes. I'm not a fool and i didn't want him to get away. On the way home, we took a brief trip to Nevada to the Border Inn to fill up the tank. While we were there, I talked him into buying me a little cloissone ring for $3. I put it on, showed it to him, and told him that would be my engagement ring till we got married.

Sadly, my little $3 ring only lasted about a year (much longer than the 26 day engagement!) and finally had to be retired to the jewelry box.

So, four years later, we're back at the scene of the crime. We went to the Hermit's Cave in Marjum Pass and took pictures with the boys. I like this pictue of Jim and me. It's our sort-of annual anniversary picture. It was our sort of anniversary (just a few days before).

We went on in to camp where Jim's parents were staying and spent the afternoon and early evening with them, then made the LONG drive home. We stopped, of course, at the Border Inn for gas. I made Jim buy me another ring. This one is silver with a purple stone in the center. I put it on and said, "This will be my new engagement ring." He looked confused for a moment, then started to chuckle. "I guess this is where we got your first one, isn't it?"

I think we'll have to make this a tradition. Hopefully we'll get back out to Snake Valley a bit more often.

Yesterday (5/28) was our true anniversary. I love him more now than the day I married him, and would marry him again if given the chance.

Chocolate Raspberry Cake

Chocolate Raspberry Cake, originally uploaded by wibbet_64.

My parents' birthdays are 4 days apart, dad's on the 20th, mom's on the 24th. So, on the 22nd, I invited them to come up for dinner. What's a birthday without cake, right? I'd seen a picture of Bryan Jones' birthday cake and wanted to do something similar. He kindly sent me a link to a recipe that is so rich and moist! I couldn't use the frosting recipe he suggested, so I made a chocolate buttercream. Not only were there raspberries on top but they were between the layers as well.

There's hardly any of this cake left now. We all had some, had seconds, sent some home with my parents, and sent some home with my stepson for his mom and brothers.

Funny story: my mom brought the chocolate cake she had made yesterday. No one had even one slice of it, not even her!

After dinner of ham and stuffing, and after cake, we opened presents. Dad and I give each other tacky gifts for Christmas and Birthdays. We refer to them as having come from "The Finer Houses of Europe." This year, dad was surprisingly nice, bought me a 4gb CF card for my camera. I didn't want him to get too comfortable, so I went shopping "in Europe" (read: Craigslist) I gave him a Darth Vader costume set, complete with cape, light sabre, and voice changing mask. It was a great hit with everyone!

As my parents were leaving, mom said she'd had a wonderful time, that it was a lot of fun, and couldn't wait to do it again. I told them they could come at any time, and she said she'll be back tomorrow. But only if I can promise them a repeat of the meal

Testing the Waters

Testing the Waters, originally uploaded by wibbet_64.

I've been looking at this picture for several days now, trying to figure out what it is about this that so intrigues me. And today it hit me: This was me!

When I was a little girl -- until I was nearly 12 -- I wore dresses everywhere, unless I had a special waiver from my parents telling me shorts/jeans/pants/slacks were acceptable. Most of my childhood memories, I'm wearing a dress. And ALWAYS barefoot. And if I came upon a stream or puddle, in went my toes. If it was summer, I'd step flat-footed into the puddle, feel the warm mud squelch and ooze between my toes. It was a magical time.

I had a joyous childhood.

Connections

All 9 at Devil's Tower, originally uploaded by wibbet_64.

Connections fascinate me. How people are connected to each other, how I'm connected to my ancestors, my friends. It's probably why I like genealogy so much. This is a blog about those connections, those threads, and how they work in my life.

This is a picture of me, my best friend Marti, and our families on vacation in June, 2007. We had a grand time and are currently planning this year's adventure. Marti and I met on a trip to Berlin in 1980, and she we have become each other's heart-sisters in the nearly 30 years since then. But the threads of our connections start earlier than that.

1948. World War II was over, Germany had been divided like so many wedges of pie, and no place was that more evident than in Berlin. It had been divided by Allied and Soviet forces, to manage the city till decisions could be made that wouldn't result in another war. In 1948, the Soviets decided to force a decision and barricaded West Berlin so that no supplies could come in and no one could go out. Within a matter of days, the people of West Berlin were beginning to starve.

The Allied forces scrambled to come up with a plan and divised the Berlin Airlift. Two air corridors for incoming planes and one for outgoing. Planes landed every 2 minutes like clockwork, round the clock, for nearly a year. The ground crews got so efficient they could unload an entire 10-ton load in under 10 minutes. To improve efficiency, the pilots were not allowed to leave their planes while in Berlin. Pretty Berlin girls brought refreshments out to them.

One pilot, Gail Halvorsen, wanted to see a bit of the city he was helping to save, so he hitched a ride with one of his buddies, and while the plane was being unloaded and serviced, he got out and walked around a little bit. He ended up at the end of the runway, talking to a group of about 12 children.

His German was limited, as was their English, but they managed to communicate just fine. They thanked him for his help in saving them, and told him if they lost their freedom, they would have lost everything.

The time came for him to leave and he reached in his pockets, searching for something to give them. He had two sticks of gum. He passed them through the fence and watched in amazement as these children broke the gum into pieces to share. Those who didn't get a piece of gum got a piece of wrapper, so they could share in the experience. Halvorsen was touched beyond belief and made a rash decision. "I'll be back tomorrow and when I fly over the area, I'll drop a little parachute with some candy. It won't be much, just enough for you, so don't tell anyone." They agreed but pointed out the planes all looked the same and landed every minute or two. How could they tell which was his? "When I fly over, I'll wiggle my wings."

He got back to base and had time to make a little parachute by tying chocolate bars together with string and attaching that to a handkerchief, then he took a quick nap and reported for duty.

As he approached Templehoff airport, he was dismayed to see the group of 12 had grown to 20, and knew he didn't have enough for them all, but he wiggled his wings, which had them jumping up and down. Then he slid open his window and tossed out the little parachute.

Every time he flew to Berlin, he would take more parachutes and toss them to the growing hoard below. He friends were in on it and would use their ration cards to help him buy chocolate bars and gum and keep him supplied in handkerchiefs. What he was doing was technically against regulations, but he knew those children were counting on him.

One day he had the opportunity to go into Templehoff terminal. He noticed several mail bags sitting near the desk and asked about them. The soldier at the desk just shook his head. "The children of Berlin have been sending letters. They're all addressed to Uncle Wiggly Wings, and we don't know who that is." Halvorsen raced back to his plane. Things were getting out of control. He should quit. He should. But...

The decision about what to do was made for him a few days later when his Commanding Officer called him into his office. "Halvorsen, you've been dropping candy to those children, haven't you. This is against regulations. And if I'd found out about this from anyone except my superior officer, I'd have your wings. As it is, we've been ordered to step up the operation. You are to get all the supplies you need, and all our pilots are going to start helping you drop these parachutes all over town, not just at the airport. That crowd of children has gotten too big. We're calling it 'Operation Little Vittles'."

Halvorsen started opening his mail, and was touched to see most of the children were sending back the handkerchiefs so they could be reused. He tried to answer every letter he received, and that was a monumental task in itself! One day he received a letter from a little girl named Mercedes. "Dear Uncle Wiggly Wings, Every day you fly over my house and scare my chickens. Now they won't lay eggs! I cannot make it to the airport, but my house is white and has a red roof with chickens in the back yard. Will you drop some candy in my yard? Thank you. Mercedes." Halvorsen looked for that house and finally had to send Mercedes a care package, with a letter. "Dear Mercedes, I am very sorry to hear about your chickens. I was not able to find your house, so I have sent a package to you instead. Love, Uncle Wiggly Wings."

Eventually, the airlift ended, and Halvorsen went home to his wife and began a family. When they had about 5 children, he was stationed back in Berlin, as the director of Templehoff Airport. It was like going home. He had so many official engagements that he and his wife agreed he would not accept any personal invitations. Most German families had 1 or 2 children, and the concept of 5 was more than they could fathom.

There was one invitation that kept turning up, and each time it was politely declined. Until Halvorson ran into Peter Wild, the man who had been sending him all those invitations. Herr Wild again issued the invitation, and stressed it was for his entire family. The Halvorsens discussed it and a date was set. They had an enjoyable time, and after dinner, Frau Wild said, "I have something to show you." She went to the cupboard and took out a yellowed piece of worn paper and handed it to him. Halvorsen opened it up and began to read. "Dear Mercedes, I cannot find your house..." "I am Mercedes," she said. "This is the same house and we still have chickens in the back yard." The Wilds and the Halvorsens soon became close friends, and when the Halvorsens moved back to Utah, the Wilds would periodically come to visit.

In the summer of 1979, the Wilds were visiting when Halvorsen had a thought. "Peter, you teach in a German High School. I should introduce you to my friend, Brent Chambers, who teaches German in the local high school here." The introduction was made and the two teachers soon came up with a brilliant plan: an exchange program between their two schools, with the Provo group going first.

Brent had a hard time convince students they wanted to travel to West Berlin at the height of the Cold War. Halvorsen came and spoke several times, telling his story and encouraging all who could to go. Brent finally resorted to calling his nephew in Omaha and recruiting him and his nephew's friend. Brent also called Ruth Beckstrom, a teacher in Spanish Fork, and invited her and her daughters. In the end, there were 7 of us, just enough to get the group rate airfare. We rented a VW Bus and drove all over German, East and West, and had a grand time. In October 1980, the Berliners came to visit us, 30+, and stayed for a month. After that, the schools took turns, alternating years, and the exchange continued for more than 20 years. The city of West Berlin recognized the importance of this exchange, and invited Brent to take a group of students over for the city's 500th anniversary celebration.

I was on that first trip. And Marti Beckstrom accompanied her mother. We went again in 1982. We've been best friends ever since.

And in the summer of 2007, we took our families on vacation to South Dakota. And in that unlikely spot, we visited a Berlin Wall memorial.

And it all started in 1948, with two sticks of gum, and a promise...

P.S. I spoke with Gail Halvorsen yesterday and asked if there was a time he could meet with our two families and tell our children his story. He'd love to! But he's off to Washington at the end of the week, then home for a few days before going to Berlin for the 60th anniversary of the Berlin Airlift, and then he's... booked through November at very least. He's 87 this year.

Some Things Never Change

100_0063Greg, originally uploaded by riverhome44.

I found this photo on riverhome44's photostream and just had to laugh. There's Gwek! And it looks as if nothing has changed. Still taking naps wherever he can. Still wearing t-shirts and levis. Still into Jeeps.

It makes me smile.