I wrote a poem, selected a few of my father's photographs, and put some music with it using photobucket.com
Let me know what you think ....
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Where were you when . . .
Every generation has one – One of those days that is frozen in time, and stays with you forever. It becomes a kind of conversation starter. You find yourself standing next to someone in a social situation, and before you know it they ask, “Where were you when …”
For my Grandparents, it was “Where were you when they announced the end of the War?” For their children it was “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” That was the day of my Aunt Bobbe’s 16th birthday party. It did not turn out to be much of a birthday that year.
I had heard this questioned asked growing up, and I was always fascinated by the answers. It impresses me that each person knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and could tell you exactly how they felt even decades later.
I would have thought mine would come later, but, just as for my Aunt, I was 16. I was a Junior in High School in Odessa, Texas. That morning, there was an assembly in our gymnasium. All 2,100 students and all the staff were in attendance. I remember watching on the giant screens as the engines were lit, and remember watching as the great vehicle roared to life. We watched the smoke bellow below it, and all spoke together as we listened to the countdown – 10…9…8…7… The Space Shuttle rose toward heaven amidst our hoots, cheers, and clapping. Then, all of the sudden, flames! Smoke! The Challenger, was gone! There was a silence, the heaviest silence I have ever heard. Time was suspended, and the silence remained unbroken for several minutes until we started to gasp, to scream, and to cry. I will never forget that feeling.
I am an adult now, and have my own children. I had often wondered what my daughter’s moment would be. She is 11, and hers has already happened. She was just five years old, and in Kindergarten. It was September, just a few weeks into the school year. A day that seemed like any other. A day that would change the world forever. It was the morning of September, 11th. She still remembers how afraid everyone was. She still remembers not understanding what was going on, but knowing something terrible had happened.
I reflect on this now as we come upon the 6th anniversary of the attacks. I wonder about what our future has in store for us. I wonder what will happen next. I have two boys, who are four and six years old. What great or tragic events will fill their lives? When they grow up, and find themselves in a social situation, who will ask them “Where were you when…” and what will their answer be?
For my Grandparents, it was “Where were you when they announced the end of the War?” For their children it was “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” That was the day of my Aunt Bobbe’s 16th birthday party. It did not turn out to be much of a birthday that year.
I had heard this questioned asked growing up, and I was always fascinated by the answers. It impresses me that each person knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and could tell you exactly how they felt even decades later.
I would have thought mine would come later, but, just as for my Aunt, I was 16. I was a Junior in High School in Odessa, Texas. That morning, there was an assembly in our gymnasium. All 2,100 students and all the staff were in attendance. I remember watching on the giant screens as the engines were lit, and remember watching as the great vehicle roared to life. We watched the smoke bellow below it, and all spoke together as we listened to the countdown – 10…9…8…7… The Space Shuttle rose toward heaven amidst our hoots, cheers, and clapping. Then, all of the sudden, flames! Smoke! The Challenger, was gone! There was a silence, the heaviest silence I have ever heard. Time was suspended, and the silence remained unbroken for several minutes until we started to gasp, to scream, and to cry. I will never forget that feeling.
I am an adult now, and have my own children. I had often wondered what my daughter’s moment would be. She is 11, and hers has already happened. She was just five years old, and in Kindergarten. It was September, just a few weeks into the school year. A day that seemed like any other. A day that would change the world forever. It was the morning of September, 11th. She still remembers how afraid everyone was. She still remembers not understanding what was going on, but knowing something terrible had happened.
I reflect on this now as we come upon the 6th anniversary of the attacks. I wonder about what our future has in store for us. I wonder what will happen next. I have two boys, who are four and six years old. What great or tragic events will fill their lives? When they grow up, and find themselves in a social situation, who will ask them “Where were you when…” and what will their answer be?
I cannot even imagine.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
High C's in Heaven
I grew up in a home filled with all kinds of wonderful music. My parents filled our home with music from all over the world, and all across the musical spectrum. One of the things my father introduced me to is Opera, and I still enjoy it today. I remember being amazed to hear those wonderful voices as they soared through amazingly high and and low notes. I remember watching PBS with my father, and listening to the great Opera singers: Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, and Beverly Sills. I remember my father listening to Pavarotti on LP's on Saturday mornings, as he sat with his coffee. I remember my mother humming "La Dona Mobile", one of her favorite arias. As I started my day today, I read that Luciano Pavarotti passed away after a long battle with cancer. They called him "King of the High C's". This morning, Heaven's chorus has a wonderful new star. Fare thee well, maestro. I hope to hear your voice again, when I make my own journey home. You will be missed.
Monday, September 3, 2007
The Time Machine
As I grow older, I am amazed how easy it can be to travel back in time - how things can be like a time machine right out of something from H.G. Wells. My 11 year old daughter in in the Miamisburg Color Guard, and each year they march in the Homecoming game.
Last year, I was in the high school parking lot, watching the practice for Friday night's game. The band was marching on the back side of the parking lot, the girls were spinning their flags, rifles, and sabers,as the metronome clicked out a steady beat. Standing there, behind the cars, I was suddenly whisked away. For just a moment, I was back in Texas, standing in the Permian High School parking lot .... I was 16 years old again .... and and watching my friends ready for the Friday night half time show. It took a moment for me push away the mist of memory, and realize where I was. I wondered how many of my friends might have experienced the same sort of thing, the same thick, misty air of days gone by.
Then, it came to me, as the cliche' says, in a song. So for anyone out there who has ties to Odessa, Texas and the Permian Panthers, I offer you this ride in a time machine. I wish you a happy journey, and I'll see you again soon!
(Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...............................................................)
Last year, I was in the high school parking lot, watching the practice for Friday night's game. The band was marching on the back side of the parking lot, the girls were spinning their flags, rifles, and sabers,as the metronome clicked out a steady beat. Standing there, behind the cars, I was suddenly whisked away. For just a moment, I was back in Texas, standing in the Permian High School parking lot .... I was 16 years old again .... and and watching my friends ready for the Friday night half time show. It took a moment for me push away the mist of memory, and realize where I was. I wondered how many of my friends might have experienced the same sort of thing, the same thick, misty air of days gone by.
Then, it came to me, as the cliche' says, in a song. So for anyone out there who has ties to Odessa, Texas and the Permian Panthers, I offer you this ride in a time machine. I wish you a happy journey, and I'll see you again soon!
(Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...............................................................)
Sunday, September 2, 2007
A Creed for Daily Life
My daughter's band director, Mrs. Patti Bennet, shares this quotation with her students every year. I was so inspired, that I wanted to share it with you. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Read this. Repeat. I hope you find inspiration as I did. Thank you, Patti.
Pledge to Yourself
By Marva Collins
This day has been given to me fresh and clear.
I can use it or throw it away.
I promise I shall use this day to its fullest, realizing it can never come back again.
I realize this is my life to use or to throw away.
This day has been given to me fresh and clear.
I can use it or throw it away.
I promise I shall use this day to its fullest, realizing it can never come back again.
I realize this is my life to use or to throw away.
I am the only person who has the power to decide what I will be.
I make myself whatever I am.
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