The Chicago Blizzard of 1967

The whole east/southeast portion of the US is now preparing for what weather forecasters are calling a snowstorm of "historic proportions".  Several feet of snow have been predicted for the D.C. area, with places to the south--places that are not used to handling large amounts of snow on the roadways--will receive snow up to a foot.  It looks as though my portion of Indiana will be spared, but we all watch and wait (and pray) for our neighbors to the east and south.  It should be interesting, at best.

The only time I ever experienced that much snow was in January of 1967.  I was in college at Illinois State University in Normal, Illinois.  Home was in Oak Park, Illinois, a western suburb of Chicago.  January 24th was the last day of classes before semester break, but before I could leave for home, I had to move my worldly belongings from the dormitory I was in to another dorm on campus.  My then-boyfriend had a car to help.  We had a plan: we would move my stuff, then drive to Peoria where his family lived.  I would spend the weekend there, then head home by train (alone).  My father would pick me up at Union Station in Chicago.  That was the idea, anyway...

That day was unseasonably warm.  At 65 degrees, the weather was a blessing.  Here we were in shirtsleeves, making trip after trip from the car up to the new dorm room with all of my personal effects.  In January??  Wow!  When we were done, we left for Peoria--a mere hour away.  I spent the next couple of days  visiting with Bill's family.  There were rumors of a snow storm that would pass through the Chicago area, but it was winter and to be expected.  I thought nothing of it.

On travel day, I got up to nine inches of white stuff on the ground in Peoria.  The trains to Chicago weren't running.  The news indicated that Chicago had been socked with two feet of unpredicted snow.  It seems that the moisture-filled winter storm had unexpectedtly stalled over Chicago.  Instead of distributing that frozen moisture all over the Midwest as the storm moved through, it didn't pass quickly.  I had no choice but to stay in Peoria another day.

I called my folks to let them know that I wouldn't be home that day but would get there as soon as the trains could make it.  Dad answered the phone.  (That may not mean much to some, but in our household, Dad NEVER answered the phone.  He usually left that to Mom.  I thought it a bit strange.) I asked him how things were there and listened as he said they were snowed in, then explained my situation.  Then I asked to speak to Mom.  This is how that conversation transpired:

Me:  Let me talk to Mom for a minute.
He:  She's not here.
Me:  What do you mean she's not there???
He:  She didn't come home from school yesterday.
Me:  Where is she??
He:  I don't know.  She's not at school.  I called the police to ask if they had any information about her and told them I was going to go out and look for her, but they told me that I absolutely should not do that.  So I'm waiting for some word.

He sounded worried, and of course, I was instantly concerned.  My mother taught 2nd grade in Addison, Illinois, to the west of Oak Park a few miles.  I think her normal commute was about 30 minutes, but she hadn't made it home.  I left Dad with the phone number of where I was in Peoria and begged him to call me when/if he had any news.  I do not recall how or when--or even if--I got that call.  I do know that Mom eventually made it home, and so did I.  She'd had a snowstorm adventure!

And here is her side of the story:
As the snow started to pile up outside that afternoon, with roads getting more and more treacherous by the minute, Mom's principal showed up in her classroom and said, "You have the farthest to travel to get home, Margaret.  I will watch your class for the rest of the day.  You go now."  She got herself together and left, stopping at a gas station to fill up the car before she hit the road for Oak Park.  (She later said it was the smartest thing she had ever done.)

If you know anything about the Chicago suburbs, you understand that there is no empty space between communities.  The only boundaries are streets.  Once you cross certain streets, you are automatically in a different village.  The area my mother traveled--Lake Street--from Addison to Oak Park wasn't out in the country somewhere.  It was all city, residential or commercial, depending on the area.  In other words, her commute home that day would not put her in some lonely, isolated area.
Somewhere along the way, vehicles in traffic began to snarl and get stuck in the unplowed snow.  Mom found herself in the middle of it all.  She couldn't move because the cars all around her weren't going anywhere.  And so it was, for hours and hours, stuck on Lake Street somewhere in the western 'burbs.  Mom had left school at 2:00 PM.  By 5:00, it was dark, with no help in sight.  She determined that she was going to have to spend the night in the car.  (This is where the full tank of gas came in handy.)  No cell phones in those days.  She had no emergency supplies in the vehicle.  She ran the car to get warm, then would turn it off and try to doze.  I'm not sure what she did for bathroom needs, but I am quite certain that she didn't get much sleep that night!

When daylight occurred--and my memory of her story gets fuzzy here--I believe some Good Samaritan brought her a cup of coffee.  Maybe she was even offered a place to go to make a phone call and/or get warm.  I don't remember.  When crews arrived many hours later to try to free up Lake Street, they saw that she had snow tires on the car and determined to dig her out first.  (My father was religious about making sure that his family members had decent tires on their vehicles.  Even me when I was an adult!)  She finally arrived home, exhausted and hungry, at 3:00 PM the day after she had left school.  She was there when I arrived.  I was never so happy to see anyone in my life!!  

The lessons to be learned in all of this are many.  Suffice it to say that we need to be vigilant, and we need to be prepared.  Family is everything.  Snow may inconvenience us, but the human spirit is strong.  Look out for family, of course...but also look out for the neighbor who may need help in the face of Nature's disasters.

My thoughts and prayers are focused on the East Coast today as the monster snowstorm is about to hit.  They've had plenty of warning.  It will make memories such as mine!

Strange Bedfellows

I got into a Facebook argument with a fellow last week over politics.  I didn't know it was an argument until he called me "retarded" and a "liberal fool".  Whoa!  The discussion had been over gun control from something that one of my former students had posted on his FB page.  The former student and I are both liberal thinkers; the responder was an ex-Marine, older family friend of the student.  He declared that he was armed and ready to defend his family against radical Islamist terrorists.  I said, "I seriously doubt that you will ever meet one, but you can keep hoping."  That's when he blew up.  He interpreted what I said to mean that I thought he was just out gunning to kill someone.  Not at all what I meant, but when I went back and looked at it, I could see how he could make that assumption.  Still, I never, ever, resort to name-calling.  I find that to be a characteristic of right-wingers who feel backed into a corner.  (Seriously.  Watch for it.  Liberals are called "libtards", and every sort of disrespect is aimed at the President...but you don't usually find the reciprocal when a conservative is the target of criticism.)

I was taken back by the ferocity of his accusation, then felt bad to think that--once again--the written word had failed to impart what I really meant.  What did I really mean?  I'm a practical person living in a so-called civilized society.  It is that society's supposition that our law enforcement people should be armed so the rest of us don't have to be.  That was, of course, before 9/11 and before the advent of terrorism and crazy people wanting to kill innocents in order to go out in a blaze of glory themselves. We live in a different world than the one I grew up in.  Right-wingers now are more paranoid than the left-wingers, assuming the worst and ready to do something about it, should the disasters happen.  The vast majority of us who die violent deaths will be killed by crashes on the roadways or by crazed drug thugs than by whacko mass shooters or Muslim jihadists, but you can't convince society's "hawks" of that.  I personally don't think that more guns is the answer to gun violence.  I don't know what the answer is.  I'm not pro-gun or anti-gun.  I just know that I will never own one.  I figure I would be more a danger to myself with a gun than any intruder, should something bad happen.  I believe that the paranoid ones among us are preparing themselves for things that will never happen.  I'm okay with that, until it gets rabid--which it does on a regular basis.  The country is divided over this.

Still, I wrote the fellow a personal message on Facebook to tell him that I did not intend what he had apparently read into what I had written.  It was an apology of sorts.  What I received in reply was an invitation to lunch for today.  Now here is the rest of the story: this man is the parent of two of my former students.  I remembered him for the day that he came to school in order to walk his son through the day, holding his hand in the halls and feeding him like a baby in the lunchroom just to make a point to his errant son who was flunking classes.  He didn't know anything about me--obviously didn't remember me at all.  We avoided talking politics, but as an ex-Marine, he said he was probably very patriotic, blah, blah.  He was wearing Marine garb and asked me if I knew what Semper Fi means.  He seemed shocked that I did...and then seemed shocked again when I said, "I was a military kid!"

We ate at a popular local cafeteria--Gray's--and I ran into several people that I knew, and some that I didn't who introduced themselves to me because of my amateur radio license plate, etc.  We talked about our politics and reasons for them but never ventured into anything controversial.  We came to an understanding.  Ol' Roy and I can now joke on the FB page of our mutual friend.  I'm grateful for the opportunity.  Cooler heads truly CAN prevail!

Nesting

I used to believe that nesting was an instinct saved for birds in the springtime.  In fact, I thought spring cleaning was the human equivalent of that, but now I am inclined to think otherwise.  Yes, it feels good to clean out stuff in the spring, but it feels better to improve our internal environments during the winter months when we are trapped inside by the weather.

What else is there to do?  Yes, feeding ourselves is one thing.  What else?  I'm starting to think about the nesting urge...to purge stuff that is no longer needed around here.  Care to join me?

Living Single

There are people who simply cannot imagine being alone in life.  Subconsciously terrified, they will run from one relationship to another--sometimes beginning new ones before ending old ones.  I feel sorry for those folks because they are only running from themselves.  They never have the opportunity to discover their strengths or correct their weaknesses.  They are invested in their deep-seated insecurities and cover them up by being with someone(s) who will be sucked into the fantasy that they are worthy because they are needed.  How very sad for both of them!  They tend to make bad decisions based on false information--decisions that will affect the rest of their lives.

There are narcissists and sociopaths among us who are disguised as "nice guys".  If you are involved with one of these people, you will figure it out, eventually...but at how much cost?  How much of your life will have been given to the carefully-manipulated image?  When do you finally understand that he who claims to love you only does so for what you can bring to him by way of security?  (I am speaking from a female perspective, of course.)  I have long maintained that people need to be on their own for at least two years after the end of a relationship--whether by divorce or death--before even beginning to be ready to try love again.  Care to bet how many people truly understand this?

I wish I had a monetary donation for every time I heard a long-married woman say, "If something happened to my husband, I would never get married again."  Unfortunately, this is not a testament to the love and devotion in the marriage, but rather a witness to how much work it is to be married to this person...how much of herself she has given up in order to keep things going.  No one wants to start over again, breaking in a new relationship when exhausted by the old one.  No one.

First of all, we need to understand that as long as we live, we are not alone.  We have ourselves.  If you are a person of faith, you also have that.  Make no mistake: we need others in our lives.  A single person needs to build a support system of friends who are willing and able to help out when things go awry.  All you have to do is reach out.  Any person who claims to be lonely isn't taking care of him/herself.  Loneliness has to do with expectation.  You expect to have someone else in your life.  When Valentine's Day comes and you don't get flowers or candy from anyone, you feel sorry for yourself.  Why?  In the grand scheme of things, flowers die and candy gets eaten.  But still, you just want to feel special and loved.  You ARE loved...just maybe not by someone you can call a lover!  Guess what?  The day after Valentine's Day is February 15th...just another day, the same as yesterday, but with no expectation.

Twenty-five years ago, I became a newly-single woman after a scant 13 years of marriage.  It wasn't a particularly happy time.  In fact, at times it was nasty.  I made up my mind in those days that I wasn't going to be messed with ever again by anyone--not my ex and not others.  I understood that I was in this life all by myself and needed to find a way to be in the world in a way that would be acceptable.  No one was going to take care of me except me.  It hasn't always been easy...but I have NEVER suffered from fear of being alone (except for the notion that something could happen to me health-wise, but that could happen even if I were surrounded by people all the time).  I am still single, and happily so.  Sure, I miss companionship some, but I also enjoy my solitude.  What is the saying?  "I'm in my own little world, but that's okay because they know me here."

I'm older now.  I've had Friends with Benefits.  I've had enough love and companionship to say that I don't regret a second of my "aloneness".  I feel bad for people like my sister, surrounded by loved ones who are so needy that they suck the life out of her.  (That sounds smug, but it isn't!)

Know what's really sad about all of this?  It takes old age to figure out what life is all about.  Anyone under the age of 60 just won't get it!

God bless!  

  

Dietary Guidelines

Have you ever noticed that poor people tend to be overweight?  Ever wonder why that is?  Have you priced fresh fruits and vegetables lately??  Even the price of milk and eggs has been whacko, and meat?  Ha!  If one has any family at all to feed, one needs to get the best nutritional value for the dollar.  Even food pantries hand out stuff that will fill the belly but generally not fresh fruits and veggies because they are perishable.  There should be no question about why poor people are heavy.  They eat what they can afford, and the cheapest foods are the highest in carbohydrates and fats.  Truth.

This week, some government entity came out with new dietary guidelines for the masses to chew on.  I waited with baited breath to hear the news.  They are now discouraging added sugars...and, of course, sodium.  That will ENcourage food companies to change their recipes, AGAIN, to make their products even more unpalatable than before.  It is a proven fact that human beings, from birth, are drawn to foods that are slightly sweet or slightly salty.  I figure it happens that way for a reason.  Salt enhances the flavor of food.  Sugar takes away our cravings.  Take those away?  What's next??

I'm 68-years-old.  I've experienced all of the dietary guidelines to date...all of the buzz words du jour.  Some of them are words I'd never heard before, nor cared about:  cholesterol, gluten, lactose, GMO, high fructose corn syrup, trans fats, anti-oxidants, blah, blah.  Giving up (or taking in) any of those just makes the simple fact of eating so complicated that I envy people who only eat to live.  The vast majority of us live to eat!  Once upon a time, restaurants had, as part of their low-cal dietary offerings, cottage cheese with fruit.  When I was in the hospital after my heart attack, I was denied cottage cheese because of the sodium content.  Whaaaat??

I reject the dietary guidelines, within reason.  I came from a farm family that grew its own vegetables and relished the harvest while preserving the surplus.  We brushed the dirt off the veggies or fruits we were picking and ate them on the spot.  We cooked breakfast in bacon grease.  The very best pie crusts were made with lard.  Dollops of real butter were placed on top of foods to be served.  Did all of this contribute to my heart attack?  Maybe.  I don't know.  But my grandmother lived to age 83; my grandfather made it to 89; my father died at 76 (with a family history of dead parents and siblings by age 59).

It bothers me that the medical world can't seem to make up its collective mind about things.  Once upon a time, women were put on hormone replacements at menopause, to protect their hearts.  MANY years later, it came out that hormone replacement therapy contributed to early death for other reasons.  Eggs became the bad boys of the diet world because of the high cholesterol content.  Now they are saying that eggs aren't that bad...and that cholesterol isn't as important as other blood fats.  Once upon a time, a diet of fish for protein was touted as the way to save the heart--but now fish is so contaminated that the recommendation for fish meals has been reduced.

Enough!  Unless I am living in an area that is horribly contaminated, or the food industry is more negligent than even I could imagine, I'm eating what I want.  If I die before what could be considered expected for me, you may blame my life's choices.  ('Tis so for all of us.)  At least I'll die happy!   All my cardiologist says by way of dietary advice is:  Eat less; move more.  I'm good with that!

Freedom Is Never Free

We Americans are a spoiled lot.  As a nation, we have experienced many "wins" that make us complacent.  As a nation, we have not suffered enough to be able to flaunt our freedoms to the rest of the world.  As a nation, we are quick to claim our Constitutional rights when our Constitutional rights only count at home.  The rest of the world doesn't care about what our Constitution gives us by way of rights.  The rest of the world plays by a different set of rules, and this is what frustrates me about us.

Looking at the problem with a jaded eye, here is what I have found:

1.  Within the country, people feel that they have the right to speak their minds and expect everyone else to fall in line.  For example, just after New Year's Eve, a woman in Indy posted a nasty commentary on the Kilroy's Bar and Grill's website.  It seems that a woman had a heart attack and died on the premises during the NYE festivities.  The writer assumed it was a druggie having an overdose.  Her evening was "ruined" by seeing the "dead person" being wheeled out by paramedics, and even more so by a server who was upset because the gal was being demanding about her bill in the face of the tragedy going on right before their eyes.   As a paying customer, she felt entitled to better service, even though she didn't have all of the facts.  The owner of Kilroy's responded in kind.  Essentially, he set the record straight--that the "dead person" was not an addict but rather an elderly woman who had a heart attack while celebrating the holiday with her husband and son.  (She was revived after transport and still lives.)  He went on to say (in terms I can only say showed restraint) that he was glad the complainant said she would never go there again because she showed no respect for human life over her own selfish demands.  His final statement was that she could take her money elsewhere and he would not lose a minute's sleep over it.  I didn't find his response disrespectful at all, and apparently, neither did anyone else.  It all went "viral" on the Internet...and not in the gal's favor.

The woman had made a public post on a public website.  In VERY short order, the whole thing became the talk of the Internet, internationally.  Even her workplace became subject to scrutiny and criticism.  She had to take down her Facebook profile, etc.  People were calling for her to be fired; others made death threats.  She criticized the owner for posting what he did,.. then said that her FB account had been hacked and she didn't say what she did (although I think she gave up that dodge).  Blah, blah...  Y'know, if I had experienced all of that, I would have sat back and apologized. "I'm sorry I said those things.  I was inebriated.  I didn't understand the circumstances.  Please forgive me."  Did she do that?  No...and I think she will suffer the consequences for awhile.  Did she have the right to say what she did?  Of course.  She can stand on her constitutional right to free speech for the rest of her life, but she is internationally hated right now.

2.  Donald Trump, candidate for American president, spouts off on a daily basis.  He THINKS he is talking to America only...but the rest of the world is listening.  Just recently, ISIS has used some of his comments as propaganda to promote their stands on world issues.  Trump has grabbed all of the media attention, which makes people think that Republicans are their only choice.  I won't ever vote Republican again for personal reasons, but I pray that the rest of the country--no matter their political party--will get serious about the candidate they choose to represent them and us in the world.

3.  How many times have I told my Facebook friends (and anyone else who is listening) that what they say will follow them, no matter if they have the constitutional right to say things or not?  Use the F-word if you want.  Project false information as if it were truth if you want.  Disregard what is valid and proven if you want.  Just don't expect the world to beat a path to your door.

We no longer live in the world into which I was born.  We are a global entity with global concerns.  I'm scared for us....not because of threats from the outside, but because of our own stupidity within.  Your American right to free speech is going to be the death of us unless you come to understand that we are just a part of a bigger picture.  I pray to Almighty God that we don't destroy the planet before its time, due to our own misinformation.

Terrorist Update

Last evening, local police from two departments, state police, the FBI, and a SWAT team served search warrants/raids on two homes in Plainfield, IN, in an effort to catch our online terrorist.  Big deal for our little town!  According to media reports, evidence--including computers and weapons--were confiscated, and two people were taken into custody for questioning.  They also say that this was a result of tips from the community.  I seriously doubt that they would have gone to all of that trouble if they didn't have "probable cause".

If they have, indeed, found the culprit, Plainfield can do a collective sigh of relief.  The kid in question can't be over 16, and I have no idea how serious the charges against him (if any are brought to bear) can be.  I just hope the hunt is over.  We shall see!

The Terrorist Among Us

In recent weeks, there have been online threats made against a female at Plainfield High School.  The person posting these threats demands an apology from this girl for undisclosed reasons.  And without it, he threatens murder and mayhem at the school, at people who know the girl, at the local shopping center, and any surrounding areas.  He is taunting police.

This guy's threats are gruesome, detailed, and hauntingly frightening.  The community has been terrified for weeks...and now the time has come for kids to return to school, with his threats renewed.  There will be many absences today due to parents being afraid to send their children to school where they won't be in control.  I'm pretty certain that the dude, whoever he is, is just bluffing....but who among us wants to be the one who is wrong?

I have mixed feelings about this.  Part of me insists that people who keep their children home are letting the terrorist win.  The other part of me wonders what I would do in the same circumstance.  We live in an insane world right now.  I try to make sense of it but am not always successful.

For what it's worth, I HOPE you don't read about Plainfield, Indiana, in the news.   Life is too precious to waste!

Seattle

I was in Seattle, Washington.  Once.  For part of a day in 1958.  What do I remember about it?  Nothing.  And now my family lives there.

In February of 1958, we were returning from Dad's Navy duty in Japan.  The night before we were to dock in The States (as we came to know it while living overseas), a military dependent mother of four died on board of the flu that was going around the world at that time.  We'd all had it, I think.  (Maybe Dad and my sister were spared.  I don't recall, exactly.)  It was the first time I became scared of a disease.  Sick, yes.  Die?  No!  I was full of questions and full of fear.

The next morning, early, we docked in Seattle.  We had to go through Customs, which took time.  I don't remember much about the morning except being impatient to get moving.  (My parents--mostly my mother--had to deal with all three of the impatient Covill kids.  Shari was 16; I was 10; brother Doug was 4.  Somehow, she managed!)  I believe we were taken out to eat and sightsee some, just to pass the time, then got ensconced in our hotel room.  In the early evening of that day, Mom tried to force a nap on us because, as we were to find out, it would be a looong night.  Do you have any clue how hard it is for an excited kid to sleep in what seemed like the middle of the day?  I tried.  Really, I did.  But I wasn't successful.

I remember being shocked to see painted houses again.  During our time in Japan, I had become so accustomed to the natural wood of the native homes, it was culture shock in reverse, returning to the homeland yet not remembering the little things here in The States.

My parents always made the adult decisions without the kids' knowledge.  I can't remember a single time when we were consulted about the big things.  I didn't resent it because, in those days, that was the way it was.  Children should be seen and not heard.  Worse yet, Navy children had even fewer choices because it was the Navy that determined where we were going to be at any given time.  The smaller details, the parents took care of without asking us.  That was the thinking at the time.  (Probably would be a good idea if that were still the practice of parents.)  It was decided that sister Shari and I would be flown to the grandparents in Illinois to be put back in school.  Mom and brother Doug would be put on a train for San Diego to visit Mom's sister's family until Dad could join them.  Dad would stay behind in Seattle to settle the little matter of a missing suitcase and to buy a car that he would use to drive to California to meet up with Mom and Doug before returning to Illinois to reunite us all.

I was silently terrified.  Mom and Doug were just getting over that horrible flu.  Remember the woman who died from it on board ship?  What if I never got to see my mother again?  Then, too, I'd never flown before.  Shari and I would be flying alone, and Shari didn't like me much.  What would become of us??

Along about 11:00 that night, Dad rode with us on a shuttle bus to the Seattle airport.  Dad was, of course, in uniform.  On the bus was some drunk fellow who was loud and cursing up a storm..  (I prayed he wouldn't be on our flight.  He wasn't!)  My father finally spoke up when no one else would: "Please watch your language.  There are young ladies present."  The "young ladies" were my sister and me.  To my amazement, the drunk man started falling all over himself with apologies.  Even in his condition, he was able to tone down his behavior...and my respect for my father went up a thousand-fold!

The end of this story is that Shari and I flew out of Seattle on a Viscount jet for Midway Airport in Chicago, where our grandparents met us and took us back to Streator, IL, to the family farm to enroll us in school.  It was probably a month before Mom, Dad, and Doug arrived.  (I was quite impatient about that.)  Shari and I weren't even seated together on the flight, but a nice man sat next to me and provided me with a pillow and blanket.  I tried to sleep to help the time go faster, but I couldn't.  It all worked out.  We all survived!

Thus starteth and endeth my only memories of Seattle, Washington!