All posts by thebigsteve66@gmail.com

The Great River Road, Part 4: Minneapolis, MN to Prairie du Chien, WI

I started out thinking of America as highways and state lines. As I got to know it better, I began to think of it as rivers. – Charles Kuralt

August 25, 2015 – Day 4 – Minneapolis to Frontenac State Park, Minnesota

 We disconnected our Honda Fit from its RV mother ship and headed toward Minneapolis, the first of four large cities on the Great River Road. While many know Minneapolis for its art, theaters, and outdoor recreational activities, I mainly know it as the home of the Twins, Vikings, and Prince. With no agenda or must-do list (other than to find a “raspberry beret from a second-hand store”), we decided to park the car downtown, get out, and just start walking. We immediately noticed the 7+ miles of glass-enclosed skyways that link various downtown buildings. So we went up some stairs, entered the skyway system, and randomly traveled around the seemingly never-ending maze. The idea to have shops, restaurants, and businesses of all types connected along the skyway is brilliant, especially for a city with cold, snowy winters. It reminded me of the Crystal City Underground in Virginia, except it’s larger and above ground. We spent an hour speed walking around the labyrinth, darting in and out of corridors, and passing over city streets down below. At one point we stopped and took a picture of the Minnesota Viking’s new stadium, which is under construction. Little did we know that less than 24-hours later, a construction worker would die after falling from the roof while working on this project.

Vikings New Stadium
Vikings New Stadium

After googling “best Minneapolis lunch restaurants”, we walked another mile and crossed the river to Kramarczuk’s East European Deli, a legendary Ukranian eatery. In the late 1940s, skilled sausage maker Wasyl Kramarczuk and his skilled baker wife Anna left Ukraine in search of the American dream. They founded this Minneapolis landmark restaurant, and lunch was indeed legendary, the best meals on our journey thus far. Lil Jan had the Varenyky, aka pierogi…dough dumplings stuffed with meat, cheese, and potatoes. I ordered the polish sausage sauerkraut dish, as my dear mother would have wanted me to.  Both dishes were wonderful. While there, we met a nurse and her grandmother from Canada. They were interested in moving to Florida so we gave them suggestions based on our 7 years of experience living there. As we were finishing up a superb, borderline romantic sidewalk lunch on a beautiful sunny afternoon, Lil Jan was stung by a bee and dropped her glass of water on to my plate. Startled, I looked down, as the few remaining sausages floated across my plate, like rafts on the nearby Mississippi River.

Kramarczuk's Deli, Minneapolis

Kramarczuk’s Deli, Minneapolis

Yum!!!
Yum!!!

Lil Jan and her doughboy decided to work off lunch by walking through Pillsbury Park, and then out onto the point for a beautiful view of Saint Anthony Falls and its lock and dam. The walk to the point has a number of interpretive displays on how locks and dams work. As I stood alone on the point, I looked up at the massive I-35W Saint Anthony Falls Bridge, which stood in front of me. I wondered what it would have been like to be standing on that point on the afternoon of August 1st, 2007. On that tragic day, during the busy rush hour, the bridge’s predecessor suddenly collapsed, killing 13 people and injuring 145. The National Transportation Safety Board cited a design flaw of a too-thin gusset plate as the likely cause of the crash. What would it have been like to witness this tragedy? How would I have responded? Would I have jumped into the water to try to save people? Or would I have rushed to the school bus carrying 63 children, which was resting precariously against a guardrail of the collapsed bridge, near a burning semi-trailer truck? Or would it have been enough to simply dial 911 and let the professionals handle the unfolding situation? Most of us like to think that we would rise to the occasion and do something heroic; but what would we actually do? I also thought about the victims who woke up that morning, unaware that this would be their last day on earth. Were their family relationships in a good place? Had they left anything unsaid? Were they right with God? We just never know when our time will come.

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Saint Anthony Falls & I-35W Bridge

We returned to our RV, hooked the Fit up to it, and headed southeast toward Wisconsin. We decided to spend one final night on the Minnesota side of the river at the beautiful Frontenac State Park. Please see our next blog for a review of the Frontenac State Park campground.

August 26, 2015 – Day 5 – Frontenac State Park, Minnesota to Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin

 After a restful night at Frontenac State Park, I got up early for a solo hike around the park, while Lil Jan opted to work on her Ladies Day lesson. (She’s speaking at a women’s retreat in Nashville, Tennessee in September.) We then headed out and crossed over the Mississippi River to Wisconsin, to begin one of the most scenic stretches of the Great River Road. There are a series of small quaint river towns (Prescott, Stockholm, Pepin, Alma, etc.) that offer history, antique shopping, and amazing views. One highlight for us was having lunch at the Stockholm Pie & General Store, which was named “One of the 100 Best Places to Eat in America” by Roadfood Guide.

"Top 100" Roadside Eatery, Stockholm Wisconsin
A Top 100 Restaurant in America

A little further down the road we entered the town of Pepin. On the outskirts of town, a little girl was born in a log cabin on February 7, 1867. Later she would write a book about her early childhood experiences in Pepin… “Once upon a time…a little girl lived in the Big Woods of Wisconsin in a little gray house made of logs.” The book was Little House in the Big Woods and the author was Laura Ingalls Wilder. Like Charles Lindbergh, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s early formative years shaped the person she would become. As she looked backed on her early years on the frontier, she wrote, “It has been many years since I beat eggs with a fork or cleaned a kerosene lamp. Many things have changed since then, but the truths we learned from our parents and the principles they taught us are always true. They can never change.” There’s a lesson there for parents…and children. Another thing we can learn from her is that late bloomers can be great bloomers. She didn’t begin her writing career until she was sixty-five. She had only planned to write one book, Little House in the Big Woods. But it was an immediate success, and children who read it wrote to her begging for more. She said, “I was amazed because I didn’t know how to write. I went to little red schoolhouses all over the West and I never was graduated from anything.” She ended up writing eight books before passing away in 1957. Of course, those stories would come to life in the 1970s television series, Little House on the Prairie. A big fan of Laura Ingalls, Lil Jan insisted we pay a visit to the replica “little gray house made of logs” that Laura grew up in.

Laura Ingalls Wilder's Wayside Cabin
Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Wayside Cabin
The Loft Where Laura & Mary Slept
The Loft Where Laura & Mary Slept

Only four days into our journey along the Great River Road, we’ve already been inspired by the people we’ve met, both living and dead. Today, we’re glad the Kramarczuk’s immigrated to the U.S. and opened a restaurant. We’re hopeful the two delightful Canadian women we met are able to find a new home and life in Florida. We’re thankful for the first responders and others who helped save lives following the bridge collapse in Minneapolis. And we’re glad that, at age 65, a woman took the time to write a book about her experiences growing up in a log cabin in Pepin, Wisconsin.

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Laura Ingalls…at 17 & 69

Later that evening, we rolled into Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, and took up residence in our new home, the Wal-Mart parking lot, with several of our trucker buddies. Whenever I start to feel manly like my fellow “big rig” drivers, Lil Jan brings me back to earth by reminding me…we’re pulling a Honda Fit.

Big Steve

An Especially Good Stretch of the Great River Road

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The Great River Road, Part 3: Little Falls to Bloomington, MN

“When I was a child on our Minnesota farm, I spent hours lying on my back…hidden from passersby, watching white cumulus clouds drift overhead, staring into the sky. It was a different world up there. You had to be flat on your back, screened in by grass stalks, to live in it. Those clouds, how far away were they? Nearer than the neighbor’s house, untouchable as the moon—unless you had an airplane. How wonderful it would be, I’d thought, if I had an airplane—wings with which I could fly up to the clouds and explore their caves and canyons—wings like a hawk circling above me. Then, I would ride on the wind and be part of the sky, and acorns and bits of twigs would stop pressing into my skin.”  — Charles A. Lindbergh, The Spirit of St Louis

August 24, 2015 – Day 3 –Little Falls, Minnesota to Bloomington, Minnesota

Childhood matters. The so called formative years are ones that have a profound and lasting impact on a person’s development. Some experts suggest the formative years happen from birth to age 5, when 90% of a child’s brain develops (50% for Bama fans), along with 85% of a child’s social skills, personality, and intellect. Others point to the adolescent years because of the strong influence that time has on the rest of one’s life. Early experiences tend to set the pattern and lay the groundwork for what will follow. Was your family close? How did you spend your time? Did you have exposure to things or ideas that fascinated you or challenged you? Did you grow up in the hustle and bustle of a city or did you catch lightening bugs in jars and watch the stars at night in the country? Was God and faith a real part of your life or was it more of an abstract concept? Often you can trace what’s important to a man, along with his activities and accomplishments, back to early experiences in his youth…his formative years.

Young Lindbergh Rafting Mississippi River
Young Lindbergh Rafts the Mississippi River

Many years ago a young boy grew up on a farm on the Mississippi River near Little Falls. He had chores and responsibilities, but also had plenty of free time to explore and think and dream. With no cell phone, television, or video games to distract him, he had time to explore the Mississippi River on a raft and venture across his family’s sprawling wooded farm. He had time to dream big dreams and let his imagination run wild. His fascination with the motors in his family’s Saxon Six automobile and later his Excelsior motorbike led him to study mechanical engineering at the University of Wisconsin. While there, he became even more fascinated with the wonder and potential of airplanes. His formative years laid the groundwork for a quite interesting and (mostly) impressive life. He became a husband and father, a Pulitzer-prize winning author and an international celebrity. As a scientist and inventor, he joined with a French surgeon to create an early artificial heart, and joined with Henry Ford to develop World War II bombers. As a lobbyist, he fought for preservation of the environment. But his great love, the thing that sparked his imagination the most, was flying. He became a mail pilot, an Army Air Service Reserve pilot, and a barnstormer or daredevil pilot. The man whose childhood had been shaped along the banks of the Mississippi River also liked a good challenge. So in the 1920s, when a hotel owner offered a $25,000 prize to the first pilot to fly non-stop from New York to Paris, our young dreamer and explorer jumped at the chance. The rest is history. On May 20th, 1927, Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr., took off from Roosevelt Field in Long Island and crossed the Atlantic Ocean in his monoplane named Spirit of St Louis. After 33.5 hours in the air, he landed at Le Bourguet Field near Paris, making aviation history.

Charles Lindbergh House
Charles Lindbergh House

So we went to his childhood farm. We hiked the woods of his family’s property, which is now known as the Charles A. Lindbergh State Park. We walked the banks of the Mississippi River behind his childhood home. We saw the opening in the forest where he landed his first airplane, a World War I surplus Curtiss JN-4 “Jenny” biplane. We wondered what life must have been like for him as a youngster on that farm, dreaming big dreams and making big plans…during his formative years.

View of Mississippi River from Lindbergh House
View of Mississippi River from Lindbergh House

That got me thinking about my own formative years and how those early experiences shaped my future life. Mainly, I remember that on long trips, mom and dad would let me sleep behind the backseat along the back window in our car. I could stretch out for hours at a time, unencumbered by seatbelts or having to look at my older sisters. Many times I would wake up alone and in a daze, sweat beads running down my face, while me family was inside eating at a restaurant. Sometimes there would be a sweat stain in the shape of my head under the back window, with mild sunburn on one side of my face. I think maybe they rolled down the windows and quietly snuck away to save money and “let Steven rest”.

Landing Strip for Lindbergh's Jenny Airplane
Landing Strip for Lindbergh’s Jenny Airplane

I’m not really sure how these travel memories from my formative years affected me. But I suspect they have manifested in two ways. First, truth be told, I now live full-time in a van down by the river. Second, growing up and even to this day, I’ve enjoyed using the sun and a magnifying glass to set living things (mostly ants) on fire. Just as my parents used the back car window and sun to nearly kill me, I now take out my bitterness on the insect world. With considerable skill, I can often zap an ant or small beetle in seconds with a focused ray of sunshine on his thorax. Ants in motion are more challenging. Proper technique involves synchronizing the magnifying glass speed with the ant’s speed while keeping the sun’s rays in focus at just the right angle. If you can just get the back ankles on the ant to light up, he’ll curl into a writhing ball and it’s game over. I’m not proud of this. But I do it well, much better than young Lindbergh ever dreamed of.

I’ve even mentored others in the art. As a teacher at Foundation Christian Academy, I once co-chaperoned an 11th grade field trip to the Alafia Rendezvous, the largest living history event in the Southeast, featuring demonstrations and portrayals of frontier life before 1840. Two of my students…I don’t want to mention names…so let me just say Leebler and Bunker…purchased a magnifying glass from one of the vendors. As the 20 or so of us strolled the grounds, the two of them positioned themselves between the sun and our principal, Mr. Smith. I thought to myself, “surely not”, but that was my only thought. Mr. Smith was talking to another student as he strolled along, unaware of the drama about to unfold on the back of his bare but moderately hairy thighs. I was aware but did nothing. I’m not proud of that, but as someone who had spent his formative years in the hot sun in the back of his parents’ car, the moment seemed fair and right…even cathartic. With careful precision, one of the boys…might have been Leebler…focused the sun’s rays on the back of Mr. Smith’s thigh, as I watched in delightful horror. Within seconds, Mr. Smith jumped as if stung by a bee, as a small puff of smoke billowed into the January air. He took it in stride (literally), the boys high-fived, and I felt like the torch had been passed (literally) to the next generation. These were, after all, Leebler and Bunkers’ formative years.

Playland
Nickelodeon Universe Theme Park

After scratching our hiking and history itches, we piled into our RV and headed south for Bloomington. If a secluded hiking trail in the middle of Charles A. Lindbergh State Park is at one end of some societal scale, the Mall of America is at the other. The largest mall in America, it receives over 40 million visitors annually, the most of any mall in the world.   It has a gross area of 4.87 million feet, enough to fit seven Yankee Stadiums inside. It features more than 520 stores, along with an aquarium, a miniature golf course, and the largest indoor theme park in the United States. We had pretty clear objectives for this behemoth of a shopping mall/entertainment complex. I wanted to walk a couple of miles, drink a cup coffee, and look at large Lego formations. Lil Jan wanted to buy a dress and not get lost. I succeeded on my three objectives. Lil Jan failed on both of hers. I understand getting lost…the place is massive. I hadn’t been so lost since trying to determine the linkage between meatballs and sectionals at the Tampa IKEA. But how does one not find a dress at the largest shopping mall in America? I don’t get that. Sometimes women baffle me. I wanted to help her, but wasn’t sure how to ask the question at the information booth…

Me: “Uh, excuse me, ma’am, but my wife wants to buy a dress but is having some difficulty finding one. Are there other stores in town that would have a better selection?”

Customer Service: “No, sir, I’m afraid not. There are over 520 stores here. This is one of the largest three malls in the western hemisphere. If something is made, it’s probably here.”

Me: “So there is a larger mall with more selections in the eastern hemisphere.”

Customer Service: “Well, yes, I believe the largest mall is the South China Mall in Dongguan.”

Me: “Dongguan it, we should have gone there!”

Customer Service: “Was that supposed to be funny?”

Me: “No, ma’am.”

I eventually found Lil Jan near the giant American Girl store. By that, I mean an American Girl store that’s very large…not a store that caters to plus-sized girls born in America. (Not that there would be anything wrong with that.) She said, “Let’s just go. I didn’t find a dress I liked.” Of course not, honey…not at a dinky little mall like the Mall of America.

Day 3 of our Great River Road adventure was in the books. We overnighted at the Bloomington Wal-Mart…and made plans to take on Minneapolis in the morning.

Big Steve

Lil Jan Doin' Big Things
Lil Jan Doin’ Big Things
Along Hiking Trail, Lindbergh State Park
Along Hiking Trail, Lindbergh State Park

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The Great River Road, Part 2: Grand Rapids to Little Falls, MN

Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. – Dorothy Gale

August 23, 2015 – Day 2 – Grand Rapids, Minnesota to Little Falls, Minnesota

 This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it! We rejoice when we wake up in a “van down by the river”…or when we’re parked between two semi trucks in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Grand Rapids. We awoke this particular Sunday morning excited to get to worship with our brothers and sisters in Christ in Hibbing, Minnesota. It’s always fun to meet new people, especially ones who share a common faith. It’s also interesting to see how different congregations go about conducting the different elements of worship (singing, praying, communion, etc.) And, quite honestly, after 27 straight years of being in charge of something as either a deacon, youth minister, or elder, it’s refreshing to be able to walk into a service with no responsibility other than to worship our awesome God.

Our brothers and sisters at the church of Christ in Hibbing were extremely welcoming, and were excited to hear that we were full-time RVers. Although they are few in numbers (16 in Bible class and about 25 in worship), they were very friendly and encouraging. After a challenging class on 1 Corinthians 5, an older man (Gary Nading), presented a thoughtful lesson on what it means to be made in the image of God (from Romans 8:29). At the conclusion of the service, Brother Nading shared with the congregation that next year, to celebrate his 80th birthday, he and his wife would once again be riding the Tour de Togo. The Tour, a 200+ mile bicycle rally over three days, raises money for their local church camp, the Flaming Pines Youth Camp. (Note to Robert Clouse: motorcycle rally fund-raiser for Florida Bible Camp?) Yesterday, we were inspired by a volunteer making mats for the homeless in Bemidji. Today, God introduced us to a man who will, as an 80-year-old, be biking 200+ miles to raise money for a Christian camp! We love to hear about elderly Christians continuing to serve God in their later years…hope we can do the same some day. When Paul talks about fighting the good fight, finishing the race, and keeping the faith (2 Timothy 4:7)…I can picture Brother Nading crossing the finish line with his hands in the air, his wife riding along by his side, and a smile on his face. (Actually, I hope his hands are on the steering wheel…he’ll be 80.) We really got two sermons that Sunday morning…the one Brother Nading preached…and the one he lives.

Original Greyhound Bus Station, Hibbing
Original Greyhound Bus Station, Hibbing

Still in the town of Hibbing, we drove by the Greyhound Bus Museum, where the first bus service began in 1914. The initial bus (actually a vehicle known as a Hupmobile) took miners to the local strip mine. That strip mine would become the Hull Rust Mine, which today is the largest operating open pit iron ore mine in the world. This man-made “Grand Canyon of the North”, a National Historic Site, measures more than three miles long, two miles wide and as much as 600 feet deep. Since 1895 it has moved more that 1.4 billion tons of earth and during the 1940’s (and more specifically, World War II), one quarter of the ore mined in the United States came from the Hull Rust Mine. As mine operations expanded in the early years, the town of Hibbing got in the way. So in 1919, they moved the town! It took two years and $16M to move 185 houses and 20 businesses to the nearby area where Hibbing currently resides. And how did the mineworkers living in the new Hibbing location get to work back at the mine? By taking the previously mentioned Hupmobiles which evolved into the Greyhound buses we know today. The Visitor Center includes a video presentation, observation deck, a gift shop and mine exhibits. If you time it right, you can also witness a mining dynamite blast used to clear bedrock away to get to the iron ore. Before moving on from this quarry story, I just want to say…Yaba-daba-doo!

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Hull Rust Mine, Hibbing

We returned to Grand Rapids for one final stop: the Judy Garland Home / Wizard of Oz Museum. For fans of Miss Garland or the movie, this is a bucket list destination. Judy was born Frances Ethel Gumm in Grand Rapids and spent the first few years of her life in this home, which can be toured as part of the museum admission. She was a singer, actress and vaudevillian performer (along with two older sisters) from the age of 3, and had an incredible 40-year career. Her awards included Grammys, a Golden Globe, Academy Award nominations, and the Cecil B. DeMille Award for lifetime achievement in the motion picture industry (at 39 years of age, the youngest recipient). In 1997, she was posthumously awarded a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and in 1999, the American Film Institute placed her among the ten greatest female stars in American cinema history. Of course, her most famous role was that of Dorothy in 1939’s The Wizard of Oz.

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Judy Garland’s Childhood Home, Grand Rapids

In terms of Oz memorabilia, this museum delivers big-time. Our favorite thing was the stagecoach used in the movie, which had been previously owned by Abraham Lincoln. We also toured Judy’s early childhood home because, well, there’s no place like home. (Sorry)

Abe's Carriage
Abe’s Carriage

Most importantly, I had a long conversation with the Wicked Witch of the West. I privately shared with her my disappointment over her treatment of the Munchkins, and how she and her flying monkeys had caused many of my childhood nightmares. I let go of this long-held bitterness, we made our peace, and I forgave her with a kiss. As I walked away from the exhibit and looked back over my shoulder one last time, she mouthed the words, “I’ll get you my pretty…just like I got your little dog Mandy.”

Forgiveness and Reconciliation
Forgiveness and Reconciliation

As we departed the museum in our RV heading south, we discussed something that seemed to be missing from the Judy Garland home tour and museum: the “bad stuff” from her life. If it was there, we never saw it. Despite all of her professional successes, which the museum documents quite well, she had a really difficult personal life. She had very low self-esteem as a child, which was made worse when studio executives said she was ugly and manipulated her physical appearance onscreen (they were wrong, by the way). She was financially unstable, frequently owing thousands of dollars in back taxes. Four of her five marriages ended in divorce. Worse still, she had a prolonged battle with drugs and alcohol, which eventually took her life from an overdose at age 47. Was it right to “sanitize” her life and only present the good stuff? Perhaps so, given all the young Oz fans that tour the place. On the other hand, would a presentation of some of her struggles have presented a more balanced view on her life? Could young people and other visitors possibly learn from her struggles in some way? Before answering, think about how you would want your own life portrayed if they built a museum about you some day.

After having this discussion about what should or should not have been included in the Judy Garland museum, and our (never to be) personal museums, we listened to a recent chapel talk by our son, Kyle, at Harding University. Kyle makes the point that each and every person has a compelling life story, one that is made up of both good and bad. We all make mistakes and face difficult challenges in life. That’s part of who we are, and God uses both the good and bad to help mold us into the people he wants us to be. Like the Wizard of Oz, we all have a magical version of our families and ourselves that we naturally want the world to see. But like in the movie, when we pull the curtain back on our lives, the reality isn’t always so magical. Gary Nading has struggles. Judy Garland had struggles. And Da Johnsons certainly have struggles. Perhaps when we allow ourselves to be a little more transparent, we’re better positioned to help those going through some of the same challenges.

We enjoyed our time in Grand Rapids and Hibbing. As for what’s next…well…I could while away the hours, conferrin’ with the flowers…if I only had a brain.

Big Steve

P.S. If you’d like to hear Kyle’s chapel talk, go to the following link, and his talk begins at 14:21… http://hardingtv16.pegcentral.com/player.php?video=23c3f1c9de3e7d92df9c46c81d05e2b5

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The Great River Road, Part 1: Itasca SP to Grand Rapids, MN

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” – A. A. Milne, Pooh’s Little Instruction Book

This may be the beginning of a great adventure tale. At least that is our hope. Some bucket list items require a little more energy, boldness, craziness, and gas than others. Channeling our inner Lewis & Clark, we have set out to drive the 2,340-mile Great River Road that goes the entire length of the Mississippi River. We’ll traverse ten states, going at whatever pace feels right at the time. We’ll stop for the occasional roadside attraction, antique store, historic site, or interesting eatery. We’ll hike trails, attend worship services, and have conversations with some amazing people across this great nation of ours. Going against my usual Type-A over-planning mentality, we’re going to try to be somewhat spontaneous. We’ll be open to whatever opportunities and sights God sets before us. Helen Keller once said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” While Miss Keller probably never envisioned (sorry) driving the entire Great River Road in an RV, I think she’s on to something. So let the adventure begin…

Click on the following link to watch a short intro video, then read on.

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August 22, 2015 – Day 1 – Itasca State Park to Grand Rapids, Minnesota

 Our previous blog covered Itasca State Park in some detail, so I won’t repeat that here. Our Great River Road adventure officially began there at the headwaters of the Mississippi River. We joined other tourists in walking across the stones that mark the official starting line, as Lake Itasca slowly and casually provides the waters for a small stream that will become a mighty river. After soaking in the significance of this place and moment, we attached our Honda Fit to the RV, piled in the RV like Clark and Ellen Griswold, said a prayer, and began our journey.

Bring it!
Bring it!

Our journey lasted 5 seconds. In what became the first of two “RV fails” in the first few miles of our journey, I messed up. Royally. In my rush to get going, I left out one critical step in hooking up the Fit. I kept the car in park, rather than putting it in neutral. So as I slowly accelerated out of my parking spot, something didn’t sound or feel right…and that became all the more apparent when a man ran out in front of me waving his hands and shouting something. I’m not sure what he was yelling, but “loser” and “idiot” would have been fair and accurate descriptions of me.

This sad episode in a Lake Itasca parking lot will go down in my personal pantheon of car fails. It ranks right up there with the time, while driving to Northern Burlington High School during my senior year, I suddenly observed a yellow traffic signal. Rather than accelerate through the light, I slammed on my brakes, causing my ’73 Mercury Montego to come to a screeching stop, while my right front hubcap flew off the car and sailed into a nearby field. As I pulled over and exited the car to retrieve my hubcap, several of my fellow high school drivers yelled at me as they went by. They said something about me being a “loser” and “idiot”. And then there was the time, a few years ago, when the control knob for our RAV-4 air conditioner somehow came loose and collapsed inside the dashboard panel. I did what any logical man would do…I set out to retrieve it using long BBQ tongs. Not only did I not rescue the knob, but I got the tongs stuck in the instrument panel as well. As I traveled to Scott’s Automotive to have Rob Hight fix my problem, I brainstormed possible explanations for BBQ tongs being lodged in the instrument panel. BBQ date night gone wrong? Driving With Tongs (DWT)? In the end, I brought Rob over to look at my instrument panel and simply said, “I’m an idiot and a loser.” He looked at the situation in disbelief, smiled, and silently acknowledged my assessment of the situation.

Aside from some nice skid marks across the parking lot, the Fit survived and a lesson had been learned. We exited the parking lot, crossed the diminutive Mississippi River for the first official time in the RV, and headed north toward Bemidji. Ten minutes down the road we had our second fail and lesson learned. We weren’t paying close enough attention and missed the marker telling us to turn right to stay on the Great River Road. Normally that’s not a big deal…just turn the car around. But on narrow, secluded two-lane country roads, you don’t just turn an RV around…especially with a vehicle in tow. After several miles, we finally came to a small Fire Department on the right with a small parking lot in front of it. I turned in to the parking lot…my second mistake of the day (well, third if you count the missed turn). You see the parking lot wasn’t big enough to execute a full turn around…and RVs with tow vehicles don’t do reverse. So, I had to put the RV in Park and exit, as Lil Jan mumbled something about “it’s okay, honey” or maybe it was “stupid loser”. I then had to completely disconnect the Fit, back it out of the way, reposition the RV, reconnect the Fit, etc. Aside from a 20-minute delay and my crushed ego, we were fine and got back onto the Great River Road!

Our first big stop was Bemidji…the first city on the Mississippi. Bemidji is perhaps best known as the home to Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox, so we stopped by their statues to pay our respects. The city is also know for its fishing…walleye and other varieties on Lake Bemidji…and over 400 fishing lakes within 25 miles of the city.

We walked around the town in search of a Post Office, and stumbled upon The Least of These Social Change Boutique…a boutique and art studio with a bold vision: to change the world. According to the Bemidji Pioneer (local paper)…”the primary focus of this faith-inspired non-profit program is to engage individuals in volunteering their time, talents, gifts, and creativity to make our community and our world a better place. The new art studio will serve as a hub for both youth and adults to use creativity to raise funding and awareness for a broad range of social issues, causes and local and international non-profit organizations.” The owners, Jennifer Anderson and Jennifer Kovach, were in Uganda during our visit, but we had the pleasure to meet and talk to Heidi, a volunteer. Imagine that…the first person we met on the Great River Road is a volunteer…trying to change the world! How cool is that? Heidi explained that the name of the store is based on Matthew 25:40 which reads, “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ The owners acquire local hand-crafted items plus fair trade products from around the world in order to raise money for those in need…both locally and internationally. I kept thinking it’s the kind of store that Amber Colon and Bob Dorsey (friends of ours from Florida) need to open some day. Amber and Bob, you and others can read more about this store’s mission on their Facebook page… https://www.facebook.com/theleastoftheseboutique/timeline

Checking out The Least of These Boutique
Checking out The Least of These Boutique

In addition to helping those in need through store sales, Heidi and other volunteers create sleeping mats for area homeless people. Each mat is made out of 1000 plastic shopping bags. They cut the bags into loops, cut off the handles and the bottom seam, and loop the loops together to make a continuous string of Plarn (plastic yarn). Next, they crochet the balls of Plarn into 3 1/2′ X 6′ mats.  Meeting twice a month at a local church fellowship hall, the ladies have made 28 mats so far (using 28,000 plastic bags!). Each mat comes with a luggage tag explaining what it is, who it is from (Bag ladies of Bemidji), and the following Bible verse for a blessing: “When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.” – Proverbs 3:24.

Meet Miss Heidi Henson
Meet Miss Heidi…An Unsung Hero Making a Difference

Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox may be the most famous Bemidji residents, but we were more excited to meet Heidi and learn about her volunteer work at this incredibly cool store with an amazing mission. Many talk about helping the homeless, and then there are a few special people who actually do something about it.

The Bag Ladies of Bemidji
The Bag Ladies of Bemidji

With a renewed faith in humanity, we left Bemidji and traveled east to Grand Rapids. After taking in a movie (Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation…which was quite good), we set up “camp” for the night at the local Walmart parking lot. As I listened to the hum of a generator on a nearby truck before falling asleep, I thought about the homeless out there who would sleep at least a little more comfortably as a result of the Bag Ladies of Bemidji.

Despite a rough start to the morning with a few RV fails, it was a good first day…and our journey is underway!

Big Steve

Changing the World...One Mat at a Time
Changing the World…One Mat at a Time
Mat Instructions
Mat Instructions

 

 

 

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Campground Review: Lake Itasca State Park, MN

Lake Itasca
Lake Itasca

Dates: August 20-22, 2015

Campsite: 77e

Overall Score: 4.42 (out of 5)

Summary: This massive 32,500 acre state park is one of the most beautiful places we’ve been, camping or otherwise. It is the second oldest state park in America (behind Niagara Falls) and the oldest and 3rd most visited state park in Minnesota. Its rolling landscape, created by glaciers thousands of years ago, conceals over 100 lakes within maple, oak, birch, pine, and spruce forests.

Bohall Lake
Bohall Lake

Recreation/Amenities: 4.8 – This park has something for everyone. We’ll begin with what it’s best known for…the Headwaters of the Mississippi River. Yes, the world’s third-longest river starts its 2,552-mile journey as a small wilderness stream that can be walked across. So we walked across it. Near the headwaters there is also an outstanding Great River Road interpretive center, museum and gift shop (more on the Great River Road in our next blog). There are 49 miles of hiking trails (we hiked about 5 miles of them). Recommend the 2-mile Dr. Roberts Trail, a loop trail with a few moderate hills along the east arm of Lake Itasca. The .5-mile, out and back Bohall Trail to the secluded Bohall Lake is also terrific. I can only imagine what it would be like to backpack for several days along the lakes and trails of the southern and western portions of the park. Additionally, there are 16 miles of paved biking trails, 28 miles of cross country skiing trails, 31 miles of snowmobile trails, and an 8-mile loop wilderness trail that can be done via car or bike. There’s also fishing, boat rentals (all varieties), a tour/excursion boat, a historic lodge and restaurant (order the Southern Pasta), and giant pines throughout the park. Note:  The modest .2 deduction is due to a lack of equestrian or dirt bike trails.

Miles & miles of trails
Miles & miles of trails

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Hookups & Connectivity: 3.5 – electric only, with dump station. Water sources (spigots) are located throughout the camping area, but not at individual campsites. Free W-Fi, but only if your campsite is close enough to the bathroom/shower building.

Lil Jan Crossing the Mississippi River!
Lil Jan Crossing the Mississippi River!
Watch out, kid, I'll push you in!
Watch out, kid, I’ll push you in!

Local Vicinity Things to Do: 4.5 – There are enough things to do in the park that there’s no reason to leave it. However, Park Rapids is 20 miles south. It features shopping, fishing, golfing, stage entertainment, and family music and comedy shows. Basically, the entire area in and around the park has hardwood and pine forests (for wildlife watching, camping, fishing, hiking/biking) and is also a winter playground with a vast network of snowmobiling and cross-country skiing trails.

Fire Tower
Fire Tower

Cleanliness: 4.6 – well-maintained campsite and facilities.

Intangibles: 4.7 …..

Pros – a good variety of campsites—some more secluded in the woods, some more open by the lake, etc. There’s a climbable 100-foot tall fire tower for a panoramic view of the Lake Itasca watershed. Good balance between hiking, biking, skiing, boating, and driving to explore the park. Contains the largest white pine tree in Minnesota…113 feet tall and 14.5 feet around. Be sure to stop at the Preacher’s Grove and walk under the giant red pines along Lake Itasca.

Headwaters of the Mississippi River
Headwaters of the Mississippi River

Cons – nitpicky, but at rush hour/check-in time, there were 6 or 7 campers backed up waiting to check-in. The check-in staff was competent and friendly, but the process took some time. There are lots of mosquitos (except in winter), especially at certain times of day (near dusk) and on certain trails (for us, that was the Blowdown Trail). So apply liberal amounts of bug repellant.

Lil Jan Chillin' as Big Steve preps for Weiner Roast
Lil Jan Chillin’ as Big Steve preps for Weiner Roast

If you want to travel the entire length of the iconic Mississippi River (and we do, and we are)…it all begins at the headwaters in beautiful Itasca State Park. It was named a National Natural Landmark in 1965 and added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1973. Put this one on your bucket list!

Big Steve

Pines along Bohall Trail
Pines along Bohall Trail

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Music City Memories

Although Lil Jan and I have visited some amazing places all over the world, some of our fondest memories happened in Nashville, Tennessee…Music City USA. It was in Nashville where we first laid eyes on each other, had our first date, and shared our first kiss. It was in Nashville where we fell in love, graduated from college, got married, and rented our first little duplex. We recently decided to return there to reminisce on some old memories and make a few new ones.

First on our agenda was a visit to our alma mater, Lipscomb University. As we strolled along the campus, we walked near what used to be an open field near the southeast corner of campus. It was on that field, in the fall of 1984, that the incoming freshmen class gathered for the freshmen mixer. Former Lipscomb President Willard Collins welcomed us to the university and, in his booming voice, invited us to enjoy the games and other festivities that evening. But he also gave us a warning. He said, “Be careful who you talk to tonight, because you might just meet your future mate.” (Sounds like a country song.) I laughed at that suggestion, not realizing that about 20 minutes later I would meet my future mate.

One of the icebreaker games that evening involved music being played while the entire freshmen class walked around the giant field. When the music stopped, the freshmen guys took a knee and each of the ladies would rush to find a guy’s knee to sit on. You then had 30 seconds to tell the other person your name, major, and hometown. As luck, fate, or perhaps Divine Providence would have it, Lil Janet Climer sat down on my knee and we shared our information. My recollection is that she instantly fell in love with me, although she maintains that by the end of the night, she simply thought I was obnoxious. Whatever. After the mixer ended, we ended up going with a group of new friends to McDonald’s. We both ended up in that group because my roommate, Kurt, was from her hometown. When Kurt and my other two suitemates got back to our dorm room later that evening, we pulled out our freshmen pictorial directories and one of us (probably me) suggested we go through it and circle ten girls that we potentially would marry some day. As I scanned the pictures and descriptions, I came across Janet Climer, the cute young lady from Summitville, Tennessee who had a charming southern accent and had spent 30 seconds on my knee earlier in the evening. Without hesitation, I circled her picture. A few months later I asked her out on a date, and randomly picked a dollar movie, because money was tight. The movie was Purple Rain, a disastrous choice. (Sorry, honey… “I never meant to cause you any problems…I never meant to cause you any pain…”). We somehow survived that date and have been dating ever since.

After strolling and reminiscing around Lipscomb, it was time to make our way to downtown Nashville. Our first stop was Centennial Park, home of the full-size replica of the Greek Parthenon. It’s a beautiful park featuring lakes, fountains, flowers, and walking paths. On these hallowed grounds, 28 years ago, we took our relationship to a whole new level. Asking someone to marry you is an enormous, life-changing, deal. I wanted it to be special and Centennial Park seemed like a special place to make it happen. I also wanted a record of what happened…some sort of proof in case she ever denied saying yes to the obnoxious Air Force kid from Tucson, Arizona. So I talked to my roommate, Dave Esslinger, and the conversation went something like this…

Dave: “Why don’t you just have me take some pictures of you proposing to her?”

Me: “Because I want it to be a surprise.   If she sees you, especially with a camera, she’ll know something’s up.”

Dave: “No worries. I’ll go under cover. She’ll never see me.”

Me: “I don’t know, it seems kind of risky.”

Dave: “Trust me, you guys will never see me. It will be like I don’t exist. But I’ll get some great photos.”

Me: “Well, alright, but we better not see you. That would ruin everything.”

Dave: “I got this. You just do your part and don’t worry about me.”

With the engagement ring in my pocket, I picked up Janet from her dorm, and we headed toward Centennial Park. As we drove into nearby Green Hills in Nashville, we decided to go through the Wendy’s drive-through to get a bite to eat (because what could be a more romantic meal prior to a proposal than Wendy’s?). As I sat in the queue to pay the lady at the window, I looked in my rear-view window and saw…DAVE!!! Yes, “Mr. Invisible Man”, “Mr. You’ll Never See Me” was in the car behind us, slumped down, head barely visible above the steering wheel, with a ball cap pulled down to partially shield his face. He was tailing us! In a Wendy’s drive-through! Unacceptable! I tried to remain calm and not draw Janet’s attention to the situation. Fortunately, she was pretty focused on her Frosty.

The Mighty Parthenon (replica)
The Mighty Parthenon (replica)

We pulled onto Hillsboro Pike and headed toward Centennial Park. I sped up, hoping to put some distance between Dave and us. No such luck. The right lane slowed, and sure enough, Dave went zooming by in the left lane, still slumped down, ball cap pulled down to his eyes. He looked like a Mario Kart character that had been rejected early in the design process. My heart nearly stopped, as I was certain Janet would notice him and suspect something. Fortunately, she never looked his way. We made it to Centennial Park and found a nice shady place by the water with a great view of the mighty Parthenon. We laid down on a blanket, talked about life, and for just a moment I forgot that Dave was somewhere out there on the prowl. I finally got up the nerve to pop the question. I asked her what she was thinking about. She said, “not much, just enjoying being here…what are you thinking about?” I slowly pulled the ring from my pocket, placed it before her, cleared my throat, and said, “I was wondering how great it would be for you to be my wife. Will you marry me?” She reached towards her face, fell back on the blanket, and said, “Yes! Yes!” As we embraced and soaked in the beauty of the moment, our bliss was interrupted by a middle-aged man walking by. He got our attention and said, “Excuse me. I hate to bother you. But there’s a man in a trench coat and ball cap behind a tree over there taking pictures of you.” Dave! Mr. Invisible! Well, at least he made good on his promise. We had our photographic evidence (now located in a scrapbook in a box in a condo in Florida), and by some small miracle, Janet never noticed him stalking us.

Centennial Park
Centennial Park

So there we were, in 2015, walking those same hallowed grounds. Unfortunately, we couldn’t come to any agreement on the exact spot where I proposed. In hindsight, I should have asked the city of Nashville to erect a monument there. Or maybe Dave could have rented a spy plane and taken some aerial photos. After strolling around some more, we headed to Hattie B’s Hot Chicken for lunch. Wow! Hot chicken! Where have you been all my life? Public service announcement: go there and get yourself some hot chicken and thank me later. We waited in line outside in the heat for 30 minutes to get in, but it was worth the wait. The hot chicken was…HOT! I had sweat beads on my forehead and tears in my eyes before I even got to the pimento mac n cheese. (That, too, sounds like a country song.)

Hot Chicken! That's what I'm talking' bout
Hot Chicken! That’s what I’m talkin’ bout

After finishing our meal and sharing a banana pudding, we headed toward Nashville’s country music district. We strolled passed the Ryman auditorium and ducked into Tootsies Orchid Lounge, the famous watering hole. Country singers like Willie Nelson, Loretta Lynn, and Waylon Jennings have all visited or performed at Tootsies. In fact, Willie Nelson got his first songwriting job after singing there. Songs have been written about it, and movies (including “Coal Miner’s Daughter”) have been filmed there. We went in to see what all the fuss was about, but mainly because I had to pee. The place was packed to max capacity, with an aspiring country band jamming on the small stage by the front door. I had to turn sideways and shuffle sideways through a gauntlet of drinking, singing, and partying country fans and tourists. This is how diseases are passed. I somehow negotiated my way to the bathroom, and took my place at the urinal next to a Cowboy with dip in his mouth and a bit of a scowl on his face. For some unexplained reason, I looked over at him, violating urinal protocol, especially at a country & western bar. Then, equally unexplainable, I felt the need to make small talk… “I’m here with my wife.” He didn’t speak…he simply nodded once, looked over his opposite shoulder, and turned and exited without flushing or washing his hands.

Great music, no personal space
Tootsies…where Legends are born

Our next stop was the Country Music Hall of Fame, which turned out to be well worth the admission price and a great way to spend a couple of hours. We saw Elvis’ gold Cadillac, hundreds of exhibits, old footage of country music history, the original hand-written lyrics to country songs, and much more. We then walked across the Pedestrian Bridge for a great view of the waterfront and Titans stadium.

A Legend
A Legend

On our way back toward the parking garage, I decided to surprise Janet with a short detour to our final stop…queue the Star Wars theme song…The Hermitage Hotel! Like Centennial Park, there are no monuments or historic markers devoted to us at The Hermitage…but there should be. Because on March 25, 1988, we spent our wedding night at the Hermitage! As we entered the lobby (in 2015), I was pleasantly surprised to see they had set out delicious homemade cookies and lemonade for us. Assuming these amenities were part of our original hotel room price from ’88, I helped myself to them. My plan was for us to spend several minutes reminiscing about our wedding night, but it was mostly a blur. We didn’t remember where we parked, our room number, or who made the first move (pretty sure it was me, though). As far as we can recall, we were alone and whatever happened in that room was a good thing. (Possible words to a country song?) At least it was good enough to celebrate in the lobby with cookies and lemonade 27 years later!

I can explain...
I can explain…

I’m thankful that Lil Janet Climer sat on my knee at the freshmen mixer, and that I circled her name in the freshmen yearbook. I’m thankful that I asked her out and that, 3 years later, I asked her to marry me. I’m especially thankful she said yes. Nashville may be known to most people as a place where country music legends are made. But to me, it will always be the place where I fell in love with my soul mate. That, too, could be a country song.

Big Steve

P.S. While in Tennessee recently, we enjoyed a meal in historic Bell Buckle with our famous, invisible photographer, Dave Esslinger, and his lovely wife, Bonnie. Dave is now an elementary school principal in Franklin, and Bonnie runs an antique store in Columbia, among other entrepreneurial pursuits. It was great to catch up and talk about old and new memories with them!

Bigs Dave & Steve Antique-ing
Bigs Dave & Steve Antique-ing
Bonnie & Lil Jan Acting Quaint
Bonnie & Lil Jan Acting Quaint

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Oreos and Morphine: Reflections on a Journey’s End

I hadn’t planned on writing this blog. It would be easier to simply close this chapter of our lives and move on to the next thing. It’s not a travel adventure and it’s not funny, so you may want to skip it altogether. But I’m going to share these experiences because writing is therapeutic for me, and I’m in need of therapy. Also, our experiences may help others facing similar challenges or decisions in the future.

My precious mom died a few days ago at 77 years of age after a long battle with cancer originating in her bile duct. My dad, sisters, and wife, along with a handful of other caregivers, joined together to care for my mom over the past several months. I will spare you some of the details because they are too sensitive and not appropriate to share outside of our family. I really just want to reflect on some of the decisions we faced and some of our lessons learned from this experience.

  1. Be Tough. Watching a loved one slowly die is a gut-wrenching, emotionally draining experience. Being a personal caregiver for the person, and not just a visitor to a hospital or nursing home, makes the whole process even more difficult. If you ever have to do this, you better come with a soft heart surrounded by a layer of toughness, because this will test your compassion, toughness, and resiliency like nothing else. Initially, I compared the process to that of parenting an infant or toddler. But there is a key difference. In most instances, the parent of a baby is anticipating that their infant will grow and reach milestones like their first step, first word, or first day at school. That’s pretty motivating. With a dying person, the milestones involve a progression of physical deterioration and other seemingly “bad things”, at least until the very end when your loved one’s pain is gone. Although the period of time was much shorter, we found caring for a dying parent much more difficult than anything we had to do while raising our two sons.

suck it up

  1. Weigh the Care-Giving Options. It seems there are 3 basic ways a person’s life can end. 1) quickly, as in a car accident or sudden illness that takes their life immediately or in just a few days. Case in point: My paternal grandfather was in seemingly good health for a 79 year old, but died instantly following a heart attack while out walking his dog. 2) a prolonged illness in which the final weeks, months, or years are spent in a nursing home of some type. This was the case with my other grandfather, who spent the last several years of his life in a nursing home suffering from chronic health issues. 3) a long-term illness in which the person remains at home for several months or years and is cared for there until the end. The decision on whether to care for a loved one at home or place them in some sort of facility can be really difficult. We seriously considered putting mom in a nursing home and even visited a couple of local facilities. But, ultimately, dad decided that he, along with his family, hospice workers, and friends could work together to provide for my mom at home during the last several weeks, and that’s what we did. I’m glad we did that, although there were moments when I would have voted for the nursing home. Dad even said that had it not been for his network of family and other caregivers, he would have had to place mom in a local facility. Each situation is unique, but I think you have to factor in the condition of the person, type and expected duration of care, availability/willingness of family and other caregivers to help, availability of long-term care insurance, and possibly other financial considerations (the two facilities we visited would have run over $6400/month, although that was not really a factor in keeping mom at home).
  1. Minor in Pharmacy. If you decide to care for a dying person at home, you will need to become proficient in understanding and administering a host of medications. Our hospice nurses were beyond wonderful and guided us through the process. However, on many a night, we had to make judgment calls on the amount or frequency of morphine and other medications, within the parameters set by the nurses. This becomes even trickier when your loved one can no longer verbally communicate pain levels, and so you must rely on signals like a furrowed brow. Another difficult stage to navigate is when the person is medicated and cannot think rationally, but is still mobile. If you’re a heavy sleeper and/or are not physically in the same room as your loved one, you may need to consider child-proof locks on doors or turning off the gas to the stove. This will help prevent your loved one from roaming at night and harming themselves or others.
  1. Work as a Team. Difficult end-of-life situations can either bring a family together or tear it apart. I’ve heard horror stories of families fighting over a loved one’s possessions or arguing over the care-giving options. Stress can bring out the worst in people. I’m so thankful that was not the case with my family. We came together, worked as a team, and encouraged one another. One of the benefits of this is that it allows others on the team to take much-needed breaks from caregiving. Janet and I were able to go on several morning hikes, and take quick trips to Nashville and St Louis, because either my sisters were coming in for the weekend or some other caregiver would be there. We were also able to get my dad out of the house to attend church services and for two rounds of disc golf, which allowed him to get a breather and re-charge his spiritual battery. There was also a stage where mom would call out for assistance every few minutes for hours at a time, and we took turns on sitting with her and responding to those calls. We were a close family already, but this situation brought us even closer. Our team was also blessed with some amazing, non-family caregivers…Lynn, Sharon, and Faye from AseraCare Hospice-Nashville and Tina from my parent’s church. In addition to caring for mom, they were constantly encouraging us and were sympathetic to our needs. Thank you, ladies.

Caregiving 2

  1. Marry Up. On a similar note, I couldn’t be prouder of my wife, Lil Jan. If you want a classic case of rising to the occasion, she is it. I well remember her wedding vows to me, which involved loving, honoring, and cherishing…for better or worse…in sickness and in health, etc. But the context there typically involves doing those things for the spouse…not necessarily the mother-in-law. She did very difficult, exhausting things for my mom that went well beyond even a broad interpretation of those vows. She had my mom’s back and she had our family’s back. Her love and compassion for my mom was extraordinary, and truly modeled the unconditional love of Christ. We sometimes kid Janet because she has a “bossy gene”, and both sides of the family will often defer to her on what restaurant to go to, where to go on vacation, etc. It takes the pressure off when we “just let Janet decide”. Whether we call that bossiness or simply leadership, I can only say her determination and boldness in ensuring mom got the right care and right dosages…often at 3 in the morning…was needed and appreciated. I married an amazing woman and I will always remember the compassion she showed my mom.
  1. Expect Bizarre Words & Actions. When cancer spreads throughout the body and your loved one is taking morphine and other medications, they will eventually become “not themselves”. By that I mean they may begin to say things or request things that are bizarre or nonsensical…similar to a heavily medicated toddler. As an example, my mom began to request Oreo cookies almost hourly for several days, and ultimately went through several packages of them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a package of Oreos again without thinking of her. They also might make odd requests, like wanting to sit in the car at midnight or walk up and down the steps at 3 in the morning. Towards the end, I found myself regularly saying, “that’s mom, but that’s not really mom.” I guess my point here is to not take things said by a dying, heavily medicated person too literally or personally. On the other hand, don’t be too dismissive, as your loved one might surprise you and recall a sweet memory from the past as you sit and talk to them.
  1. Cards Still Matter. The outpouring of love and support for my mom and our family was so uplifting and encouraging. As an example, we used to worship at a church in Brandon, Florida, and I was generally aware of and appreciated a card-writing ministry done by several of the ladies there. But when you are sitting next to your dying mother and see numerous cards from these same ladies…ladies who are 1000 miles away and have never met her…it takes on a whole new meaning. So thank you Bell Shoals ladies! And thanks to all the others who called or sent a card, text, or Facebook message. My dad also mentioned the support given to him by his dear friends, the Balls and the Elders, and others in the neighborhood who have waved at him, said an encouraging word, or provided food. Just as we rallied around my mom, I feel like our friends and extended family rallied around us.

Caregiving

  1. Do Your Homework. For anyone facing a similar situation, I recommend doing some reading on care-giving, end of life decisions, and the specific medical condition your loved one is facing. One of the best things we read was a pamphlet entitled “Gone From My Sight, the Dying Experience” by Barbara Karnes, RN. It was given to us by the hospice ladies and describes in some detail what to expect physically and behaviorally from a dying person. We found it to be highly accurate and we felt better prepared having read it. It also allowed us to get a general idea of how much time mom probably had left, although that is an imprecise science.
  1. Decide on Burial Plans. Your loved one may have specific instructions on this or may leave it up to the family. Some families may live in the same town their whole lives, and have a family burial plot on their land or a nearby cemetery. That is not our family. We have lived all over the world and consider “home” wherever we are currently together. Some families want to have elaborate, expensive funeral services with all the bells and whistles. Nothing wrong with that, but that’s also not our family. Some families like to honor or remember their loved ones who have gone on by travelling long or short distances to a cemetery and placing flowers at a tombstone. Again, nothing wrong with that, but we really don’t do that. We have grandparents we love dearly and remember often, but we rarely drive to their cemeteries for a visit. As for great-grandparents and more distant generations, I don’t know where they are buried. Together, we decided that mom would be cremated. Her soul, the thing that makes her who she is, has gone to be with the Lord, and her physical body is just a shell. God will be giving her a new body when Christ returns some day. Mom’s ashes will be placed in a very special wooden container hand-made by Ellie, her granddaughter. Dad will place that container on the mantel in his living room, and some day his ashes will join hers in that same container. At some point we will spread a few of those ashes at a nearby park or waterfall and say a prayer for mom. And with the family’s permission, I plan to carry a teaspoon of ashes with me during my 2180-mile hike of the Appalachian Trail next year, and spread them at the summit of Mount Katahdin in Maine. As for the ceremony, we have planned a small service at my sister’s farmhouse in Franklin with family, and a few friends and caregivers. We’ll sing some of my mom’s favorite songs, read some of her favorite Scriptures, and take some time to celebrate her life. There will be some tears, but there will also be joy as we reflect on her life and our precious memories with her. As for the money that will be saved by not having a fancy funeral with bells and whistles, my dad has an interesting plan for that money that will be revealed in time.
  1. God is Working. It has been amazing to see God work throughout this whole experience. It was God who placed on our hearts a desire to leave Florida and travel the country in an RV, which positioned us to eventually provide extended care for mom. At the time, we had no idea God’s first mission for us would be spending the summer helping my parents through this challenging time. It was God who guided us through all of the previously discussed decisions to make, and who gave us just enough energy to get through a difficult day or night. It was God who worked through the hearts of our extended family and friends to encourage us with cards, calls, and visits. It was God who arranged schedules and guided travel decisions so that we would all be there at mom’s bedside, praying and comforting her and each other, during her final few moments. It was God who ultimately answered our prayers to take mom home with him, so that there would be no more pain or suffering. Sometimes sickness and dying can cause us to question God, and there were times when we questioned God’s plan and timing. But mostly, we just stepped back and let God work His plan on his terms and timing. Our faith in him is even stronger, and we look forward to the day we’ll be reunited with mom and see God face to face.

I apologize for this long, rambling blog. It was good therapy for me, and I hope it may help someone as they face similar circumstances and decisions. As for us, Janet and I are taking dad for some Mexican food tonight, followed by Wednesday night Bible study at his church. After church, we plan to watch McFarland, USA, and I suspect dad might shed a few tears when the overweight Hispanic runner helps his cross-country team win the state championship. This weekend we’re taking dad on a road trip to St Louis to hear Kyle preach, which will be really cool for him (and us). Yes, we are in a good place now, and we know mom is in an even better place…a place with no morphine, and lots of Oreo cookies.

Big Steve

P.S. A link to mom’s obituary… http://www.cremationsocietyoftn.com/obituaries/Margaret-Peggy-Johnson/#!/Obituary

 

 

 

 

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Campground Review: Arnold AFB FamCamp

Dates: July 8-29, 2015

Campsite: 10

Overall Score: 4.2 (out of 5)

Summary: This rustic, lakeside military campground has a lot of things going for it, and thus is our top scoring campground to date. However, it’s only open to government employees (active, retired, reserves, and DoD civilians). If available, choose RV sites 17, 36, and 18, in that order. If primitive camping, it’s hard to beat site T1, where you could conceivably catch fish from inside your tent…although that would not make a lot of sense.

Along Hiking Path, Woods Reservoir
Along Hiking Path, Woods Reservoir

Recreation/Amenities: 4.6 – Located along the shore of Woods Reservoir, a 4000-acre wilderness lake that provides water for the testing/engineering activities at Arnold AFB. Fishing is superb…supposedly the 3rd best crappie fishing locale in the state of Tennessee. I caught a 3-foot long catfish and dozens of bluegill. (Catfish should not be eaten due to high PCB levels. Also true for catfish caught in ponds near Fukushima, Japan.) Boat rentals are available, ranging from kayaks to ski and pontoon boats. The campground features a beach area, picnic pavilion, horseshoes, a playground, and hiking/biking/horseback riding trails (see link below). Easy drive to fitness center (weights, racquetball courts, etc.), a paved 1.5 mile walking/jogging trail, a larger beach area, commissary/BX, golf course, etc., at Arnold AFB.

Hookups & Connectivity: 4.2 – electric, water, and dump station (partial hookups). Laundry facilities. Free Wi-Fi! No cable TV or sewer connection at site.

Rutledge Falls
Rutledge Falls

Local Vicinity Things to Do: 3.2 – within 15 miles, you’ll find the small towns of Manchester, Winchester and Tullahoma (restaurants, antique stores, small town life). Closer in, you have the previously covered and very affordable things to do on Arnold AFB. Our two favorite Tullahoma stops involved, not surprisingly, hiking. First up, Rutledge Falls features a short, steep descent down to a beautiful waterfall and swimming area. From there, you can hike downstream either beside the creek or in the creek (wear water shoes) for more than a mile. Butterflies were everywhere (cool!) and some of them feasted on a dead animal in the water (not cool!). Next up, the Short Springs Natural Area features 4.5 miles of hiking trails, including the Machine Falls Loop. The up and down climb to the cascading Machine Falls is well worth the effort. In Manchester, we recommend lunch or dinner at the eclectic 50-year-old Jiffy Burger, featuring delicious burgers (imagine that) along with an impressive display of collectibles (mostly toys), music memorabilia, and other nostalgic décor. If you are willing to drive further, you will of course find a host of things to do in the Nashville metropolitan area…more on that in a future blog.

Machine Falls
Machine Falls

Cleanliness: 4.3 – well-maintained campsite and facilities.

Intangibles: 4.7

Pros – close proximity to Steve’s parents and Arnold AFB activities. Very affordable…just $12/night. Quiet campsite. Fabulous views, right on the water. With just one marina, the lake is very un-crowded. Fun fact: Arnold AFB is home to “the most advanced and largest complex of flight simulation test facilities in the world”…including “43 aerodynamic and propulsion wind tunnels, rocket and turbine engine test cells, space environmental chambers, etc.” (My presence brought the number of wind tunnels to 44.)

Butterfly Landing Zone, Machine Falls Loop

Cons – the campsites are lined up right next to each other…very little spacing or natural barriers. The on-site convenience store is only open on holiday weekends. The campground is off the beaten path, a good drive from any major roads…which could be a plus or minus for you.

Update – due to my mom’s health situation (stage 4 liver cancer, under hospice care), we decided to park the RV at some friend’s house at a nearby lake and move in with my parents for her remaining days. We appreciate your prayers as we care for her, administer the medicine, and encourage my dad as best we can. It has been an emotionally draining time, but God is good all the time and we trust his plan and timing as it relates to my mom.

Big Steve

Biking/Hiking Trails… http://www.mtbproject.com/trail/3268376

Near Rutledge Falls
Near Rutledge Falls
As the deer...
As the deer…
Alright, kids, everyone out of the water!
Alright, kids, everyone out of the water!

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Laid Up in a Napkin

One of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies, Apollo 13, involves a crisis situation with the crew facing dangerously high levels of carbon dioxide. The engineering team is challenged to quickly make the Command Module’s square filter work in the Lunar Module’s round receptacles.  Several technicians gather around a table and dump boxes containing the same tools and equipment that the astronauts have on board.

Technician: We’ve got to find a way to make this… [the square CSM LiOH canister]
Technician: fit into the hole for this [the round LEM canister]
Technician: … using nothing but that.

In other words, we’ve got a job we must do, using only the tools and equipment before us.  To quote another line from the movie, “Failure is not an option.”

I wonder how often people don’t do things…in fact, they don’t even try doing things, because they believe their perceived inventory of skills, knowledge, and ability is insufficient for the task. I do this far too often.  I believe that not enough supplies have been dumped on my table, so I walk away from it, leaving the crew stranded.

In Luke 19 Jesus tells the parable of the ten minas (units of currency).  A rich nobleman went on a trip to be crowned as king…a coronation that many of his people feared because they hated him. He gave three of his servants his money to invest while he was away. Two of them followed his instructions, assumed some risk, and earned a good return on his money. They risked not only losing the money, but possibly being harmed by all the people who opposed the nobleman and his pending coronation. The third servant played it safe, refusing to take any risk in investing the money. Specifically, the money was “laid up in a napkin”…safe and secure, but unproductive. When the nobleman returned, he rewarded the two faithful servants who made money for him, and punished the one who played it safe.

minas

The message here seems to be that God (in the parable, Jesus is the nobleman) expects his servants (that’s you and me) to use…even risk…what we’ve been given (talents, abilities, money, resources) to productively serve others. Preserving and protecting our talent, laying it up in a napkin, constitutes failure…and that’s not an option. According to Vincent’s Word Studies, the Greek word used here for napkin…  (σουδαρίῳ) … comes from the Latin sudarium … which comes from sudor, or perspiration. In other words, the napkin is a cloth used for wiping off sweat. It’s ironic that the servant who refuses to sweat is using a sweat rag to store and protect (but not invest) his master’s money.

Francis Chan illustrates this idea in a classic balance beam video–see link below. He portrays a gymnast who lays on top of a balance beam, clinching it tightly, throughout the duration of the routine. At the conclusion of the routine, the gymnast carefully steps off the beam and raises his hands in victory, expecting applause from the crowd and big scores from the judges. The gymnast was given a balance beam, a mat to land on, and presumably some talent, but played it safe. No risk was taken…the level of difficulty was zero. He compares this to a Christian who plays it safe, never risking anything for God, and then expecting God to reward the effort.  It doesn’t work that way in the Olympics, it didn’t work that way for the servant who took no chances with his boss’s money, and it doesn’t work that way in how we handle our talents and abilities. Whether we’ve been given many talents or perhaps just one, we can’t safely wrap them in a napkin and leave them on the table.

But what about failure? What if we attempt to do something for God and it doesn’t work out? What if the servant loses the money in a bad investment?  What if the gymnast attempts a difficult dismount and doesn’t stick the landing? The parable doesn’t specifically address this, but the implication seems to be that God applauds the effort…the attempt…regardless of the outcome. In fact, in 1 Corinthians 3:6, Paul says, “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.” Paul emphasizes that his job, Apollos’ job, and by extension our job, is to make a good-faith effort…to try…and then to leave the results up to God. God wants us to take however little or much we’ve been given and do something with it…to take some risks in serving Him.

Fortunately for the astronauts on Apollo 13, the NASA engineers didn’t step away from the table due to a lack of tools and equipment. They aggressively worked the problem and took risks, with no certainty that their gizmo would connect the square canister to the round receptacle.  Fortunately, the procedure worked, the carbon dioxide levels dropped, and the astronauts ultimately survived.  Had the procedure failed and the astronauts died, at least the engineers could have looked their next of kin in the eye and said, “We tried. We gave it our all.”

10 minas

Your talent may be teaching a class, or singing, or encouraging someone in a hospital. Perhaps you have accounting skills to help someone with taxes, or plumbing skills to fix a leak, or counseling skills to help someone get through a tough time. Maybe you can cook a meal for a funeral, or for a family in need. Maybe you’ve got money in the bank to share, or a home that could host a visiting missionary or a youth group event. Whatever your talent is, whatever God has placed on your table…be it one thing or many…put it to use! Don’t lament the fact that you used to have more tools on the table when you were younger and more vibrant. Don’t delay action because you’re young and “someday” you’ll have more tools and talents at your disposal. Use whatever talent or resource God has given you and take some chances with it. Work diligently, do your best, and leave nothing on the table.  When you are finished, use the napkin for its intended purpose, to wipe your brow.   As Francis Chan once said, “Don’t get to the end of your life and have God say, ‘Why’d you play it safe? Why didn’t you take any chances for me?'”

– Big Steve

Francis Chan’s Balance Beam video link… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LA_uwWPE6lQ

 

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Jonestown Massacre: Tragedy and Triumph

At various times in history, fanatical leaders have led followers to do bizarre and sometimes horrible acts in the name of religion. Older readers may remember the story of Jim Jones and younger folks likely have studied or will study him in a history class. The heartbreaking story is a great American tragedy and a reminder of the possible consequences of misguided faith. However, like in most tragic stories, there is also a story to be told of the strength and resolve of some great people who rose to the occasion and responded to the tragedy.

Jim Jones founded his religious cult in Indianapolis and then moved the headquarters to Ukiah, California. When questions arose about human rights violations, Jones moved his followers, known as the People’s Temple, to Guyana, South America. As time passed, Jones began to claim that he was the reincarnation of Jesus, Buddha, and other historic figures. Reports of suspected abuses continued, eventually reaching the United States Congress. As Congress became increasingly concerned with the allegations, Jim Jones started to feel the noose tightening on him and his group. He instructed his followers to hold mass suicide drills, which began with the sound of sirens and ended with his followers drinking a red liquid.

In 1978 Congressman Leo Ryan traveled to the compound, known as Jonestown, to investigate the allegations of abusive activities. A day later, Congressman Ryan planned to leave and take four of the cult’s members with him, but Jones had them all killed. Knowing there would be serious consequences to face for these murders, Jones decided to put his mass suicide plan into action. His aides laced a tub of grape fruit drink with cyanide and he ordered everyone to drink, beginning with the children. Over 900 people died, including various family members who were found huddled close together. Jones took his own life with an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the left temple.

jim-jones

Prior to the events of 9/11/01, the Jonestown tragedy was the greatest single deliberate loss of American civilians in history. It was a senseless tragedy that resulted from a group of people who mindlessly held to a bankrupt philosophy and followed an unmerciful, egotistical leader. Interestingly, the phrase “Drinking the Kool-Aid” came about from this tragedy, although technically Jones used Flavor Aid as the poison. According to Chris Higgins in The Atlantic, “Drinking the Kool-Aid” refers to “a person or group holding an unquestioned belief, argument, or philosophy without critical examination”. Socrates taught that an unexamined life is not worth living. I would add that an unexamined, uncritical faith is not worth dying over.

In most history books, articles, and lectures, the story ends there. And now, as Paul Harvey would say, “the rest of the story…” A monumental tragedy had created a monumental mess. What do you with the dead, decomposing bodies of over 900 Americans in Jonestown, Guyana? Since they were Americans, it fell on the United States to clean up the mess and bring the dead bodies home. Projects of this magnitude and complexity often fall on the United States military. Given the circumstances, it made sense to transport the bodies to the Dover Air Force Base mortuary, the largest in the Department of Defense.

As fate would have it, Lieutenant Colonel Bill Turner served as the Deputy Base Commander at Dover AFB during the time of the tragedy. Lt Col Turner was summoned to wing headquarters, where the wing commander explained the situation and asked Turner if he was willing to take charge of the reception and processing of the dead bodies. Turner said that he would, and immediately assembled a group of volunteers who would help him, above and beyond their regular duties. Each prospective volunteer was given the option to decline being on the team, given the anticipated grueling nature of the work. Fortunately, enough brave souls raised their hands and said they would help. According to then-Lt Col Turner, it was a massive undertaking. How do you handle all the media requests? What should the volunteers wear and how long should their shifts be? There was a desire to treat the deceased as human beings; although some expressed concerned that a death by suicide is cowardly and should not be honored.

Despite the best planning efforts of Lt Col Turner and his team, the operation got off to a slow start. The process to solemnly remove the transfer cases containing the bodies from the plane and transfer them was taking too long, and airplanes were backing up. Turner made the call to speed up the process by using pallets to move the transfer cases, but was concerned that the nearby news reporters would criticize the process as undignified or inhumane. Still, he stuck with his decision, the logjam cleared, and the reporter wrote his story.

The next big issue was where to put the bodies. Mortuaries may have room for several bodies waiting to be processed in a mass casualty event…but not over 900 bodies! Lt Col Turner learned of an old ammunition bunker full of furniture that could be used, but would have to be cleaned out first. Turner’s team sprang into action and in hot, humid conditions, emptied the bunker. It was ready to go by 11:00 that night, when a call came from the wing commander, asking to speak to Lt Col Turner. Turner figured the news about the pallets had caused a public outcry, and that he was about to be fired. Instead, the opposite happened. Of the public and others who contacted the base, most were concerned that the suicide victims not be treated like heroes. The news reports of the use of pallets calmed their concerns, which made for a happy wing commander. Turner kept his job.

j town
Aerial view of Jonestown following the massacre

Still, the challenges just kept coming. Refrigerated 18-wheelers were rented to store the bodies, which were contained in gray bags and passed to the truck via a volunteer assembly line. Team members removed each body from its bag, cleaned it, and then transported it to mostly FBI pathologists. Given the number of bodies and round-the-clock operations, Turner needed more volunteers. Many had never seen a dead body, much less touched one. Many were young adults who certainly never envisioned having to perform such a tiring, emotionally draining task.

The team had to empty the pockets of the deceased, which contained notes to next of kin, notes to Jim Jones (who they addressed as their father), and oddly, even toothpaste and toothbrushes. Turner notes that even in gut-wrenching situations, a sense of humor is required. He noted that on one of the bodies, a worker had laid the toothpaste and toothbrush on the deceased’s chest, along with a note that said, “You are our 100th customer. You get free dental care for life.” But mostly, it was serious business. The remains were fingerprinted, embalmed, wrapped in sheets, wrapped in a clear plastic bag and then placed in a black plastic bag. The body bags were then placed in coffins inside a garage, and negotiations took place to transfer them to California for burial.

According to Lt Col Turner, the operation took an incredible toll on the workers. Some broke down in tears during processing, and others experienced nightmares. A few went as long as they could, and then just had to walk away. One worker, who was a member of the same church as Turner, had a baby of his own who wore Pampers diapers. The worker’s job was to unzip the body bags and move them out. According to Turner, “One of the bodies was a baby who wore Pampers.”

jonestown

Another volunteer was a woman whose task was to burn the organs removed during embalming in a hospital incinerator to prevent disease. While lifting a bag of organs onto the incinerator, it broke and the contents spilled on her. According to those who witnessed the incident, she screamed, pulled off her clothes, and ran outside in just her underwear. According to Lt Col Turner, the amazing part of the story is that she went to another part of the hospital, donned nurse’s scrubs, and went straight back to work. She, along with all the other volunteers, received well-deserved military citations.

In reflecting on this tragic chapter in American history, there are many lessons to learn. Here are two:

  1. Believe in something only after giving it a critical review. Don’t just blindly follow a person or your heart’s emotions. If your religion…your faith…is true, it should stand up to critical scrutiny. It should make sense, and should answer some of the fundamental questions of life. If it doesn’t make sense and can’t stand up to critical scrutiny, it’s not much of a belief system. Still, even a belief in something that is true requires an element of faith…a confidence in what we hope for and an assurance about what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).
  1. Even in the most tragic situations, good can come from them. If nothing else, they test people. Martin Luther King, Jr., once said, “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” In 1 Peter 1:6-7, we’re told that, for a little while longer, we’ll have to suffer grief in all kinds of trials, but “These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” I’d have to say Lt Col Turner and his team of volunteers faced a time of incredible challenge and difficulty and they measured up. Their story may not be told in history books, but it’s being told here.

A final note: everything you’ve read above is true, to the best of my knowledge, except for one. The man in charge of the operation, the leader of the crew of selfless volunteers, was not Lt Col Turner. He was Lt Col Johnson. He answered the call, as he had done many times before…and many times since. Some may know him as retired Colonel Brad Johnson, others know him as Grandpa Johnson, but I usually just call him “Dad”.

– Big Steve

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