Places I Remember

There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

John Lennon

 

 

 

During my trip to the east coast last month, I took the opportunity to visit one of those places I remember from childhood, the cemetery.  I remember it fondly because it was where I made my entry into the working world.  In the spring of 1966, I obtained a work permit promptly after turning thirteen, and hired on as a seasonal grounds keeper.  Our work force was composed of three middle school boys and as I recall, the job paid one dollar per hour!

In those days, the working world was all about the cycle of the seasons.  In late March would find us clearing the countless tree limbs that had fallen during the winter storms.  We didn’t have a chain saw so an especially large limb would be hefted to the burn pile by two of three of us.  Yes, we worked harder, not smarter!  Next we would spend about two weeks raking all of the turf grass.  Talk about a boring task!  Finally by late April it was time to begin the turf mowing.  To a middle school boy, there is nothing like the sound and smell of a gasoline powered engine!  We loved our mowing machines but hated using the hand clippers to trim the grass that grew next to the head stones. 

The fall of the year was a magical time as the maple trees began to shed their colorful leaves.  We would spend our after school hours raking the leaves into huge piles, the bigger the better.  Next with the strike of one match, we set the piles ablaze sending flames soaring ten or more into the afternoon skies.  Nothing beats the smell of burning maple leaves!

 

 

I worked seasonally at the cemetery until the fall I left for college.  I never noticed until this visit how often the obelisk style monument was used in early 1900s.  The monument in the foreground is nearly sixteen feet in height, constructed of solid granite, and likely cost a king’s ransom when purchased.

 

The Burton family marker is without question my most favorite headstone.  The central portion is a solid chunk of polished granite that is three feet wide and nearly four feet in height.  The ball that balances on the top is just over twelve inches in diameter; I always wondered how in the heck the stone masons moved it.  Legend also has it that if you walked by this stone at night, a hand would reach out and attempt to grab you.  I can’t testify one way or the other regarding the legend because I always made it a practice to be safely home before sunset.

To Fly A Plane

Pictured above is the Astoria column as it appeared on a soggy morning in May.  The “column” as it’s commonly known stands proudly atop Coxcomb Hill, the highest point within the city of Astoria.  From its base, the column soars 125 feet into the sky and its observation deck is reached by climbing 164 steps.  So what does all of this have to do with flying a plane you may ask?

I recently learned from a group of fifth grade students that the column’s observation deck is the ideal place from which to launch a wooden glider.  After living in Astoria for thirty plus years, the thought never occurred to me that such an activity was possible not to mention legal.  As it turns out, the visitor’s center offers the gliders to future pilots for a small fee.  So in the interest of “lets see what this is all about”, I set out one morning at 6:30 AM to fly a glider.

So in no particular order, I offer my observations on my latest experience.

1. I was reminded that it’s a long hike to the top of the column!  It’s probably been 25 years since I last climbed the 164 steps to reach the top.  While making the accent, I wondered if the force of gravity had not somehow increased in the immediate vicinity.
2. If you intend to photograph yourself doing anything, bring along an assistant!  If for no other reason, they can pack the camera and tripod.

3.  Read all the instructions before hand!  Assembling a toy plane in the fog and drizzle is not as easy as one might think!  A far better plan might be to have a competent assistant do all necessary assembly for you.

4.  Always bring along a pair of gloves when venturing to great heights on a cold and foggy morning.

 

5.  Once your plane is assembled, there is little more to do than launching it and hope you will not lose sight of it as it slowly descends.

6.  That which is great fun for a 5th grader may not be so for someone over the age of fifty.  Maybe I should have brought along some 5th graders to cheer me on.

In case you are wondering, I launched two planes.  One slowly spiraled to the ground and landed safely atop of the bushes.  The other quickly entered into a steep nose dive and crashed into the base of the column.  All was not lost however because I took time to savor the view and believe me, that alone was well worth the climb!

 

Looking to the northwest is the city of Astoria and the Columbia River

Looking to the southwest, one will see Young's River and Saddle Mountain

 

If you ever want to fly a plane from atop of the column, let me know because I still have one unopened glider and will gladly part with it!!  I may ever come along and help pack your camera equipment.

Let Us Give Thanks

This Memorial Day, let us take time to ponder the sacrifices made by those who have served our country throughout the ages.

A Quick Trip To New England

I spent much of the past week visiting my native soil in the commonwealth of Massachusetts.  The reason for the impromptu trip was to celebrate my mother’s 86th birthday.  Yep, it seems like only yesterday that the lovely wife and I were there for Christmas, but that’s another story for another day.

It’s a sad fact of life that as the annual milestones of life increase, the size and intensity of the celebration decrease.  My mother was lamenting about how few friends she has left; in an attempt to counter, I mentioned that the same applies to her enemies.  Needless to say, this line of reasoning was not well received!  We did however commemorate mom’s big day with a delicious lunch which included a cake without candles.  I recall my sister commenting that 86 candles might set off the smoke detector!

During visits east it’s always my goal to visit with many friends from high school, but on a five day trip, time passes very quickly.  I did however get the opportunity to have lunch with my high school French teacher with whom I recently reconnected via the miracle of Facebook.  To be honest I was absolutely amazed that he ever remembered me as it’s been some forty years since I sat in his classroom.  I never realized that I was so memorable! 

We had agreed to meet in front of a restaurant as a practical matter as it was likely that both of us had changed a bit over the past four decades.  As is my custom, I arrived early at the appointed meeting spot.  With time to kill, I found a place to sit in the sun and enjoy the beautiful New England spring weather.  Suddenly from behind I heard a familiar voice asking if I had my homework.  I turned and respond with a greeting in broken French; fortunately Mr. Smith responded in English.  I guess my French was so bad that he figured anything other than English would be lost on me.  We then proceeded to spend the better part of three hours sharing life life stories.  Needless to say, it was as the French might say, “une vraie explosion”. 

Cinco de Mayo

Today is Cinco de Mayo, truly one of my most favorite holidays!  For a history lesson on the day’s true meaning, click here.  The lovely wife and I will celebrate the day by visiting our favorite Mexican restaurant, immerse ourselves in the culture, and indulge in chips, salsa, and hot bean dip.  Yes, I know such treats are loaded with fat and sodium but today is about celebration so the “food police” get the day off!

I also think of this day as Cinco de tee shirt because the restaurant owner will be offering free tee shirts to anyone who purchase a meal.  Man, nothing beats a free tee shirt!

Spring Cleaning

Every spring, my mother would spend a weekend performing the ritual known as spring cleaning. Since she cleaned the house from top to bottom on a weekly basis, it’s not like the place actually needed additional cleaning. During the annual ritual, she would remove the blankets from the beds and launder them, wash and wax the bedroom floors, and wash all of the curtains throughout the house. Needless to say, as a kid, the best place to be during this ritual was anywhere but home less you get pressed into service!

Traditions and rituals are frequently passed down from parent to offspring, so today I began my own version of spring cleaning. With great trepidation, I decided to deal with the accumulation of text books from college and numerous reference manuals I saved upon retirement. As you likely know, used text books are like a broken anchor, suitable only for taking up space in one’s garage. Though they are not quite old enough to qualify as antique, the majority are at least thirty of age and have zero resale value.

I checked with our local recycling company and they would not accept them with the scrap paper. Apparently it’s nearly impossible to separate the binding from the pages during the pulping process. Dumping them in the landfill did not seem appropriate either. So that left me with one option, manually remove the bindings and recycle the pages. With razor knife in hand, I spent of the morning “de-binding” the books and collecting the pages for recycling. What fun!!

There is however one book to which I still have an emotional attachment despite last opening it in 1974. The book is titled Rehder’s Manual of Cultivated Trees and Shrubs and was once considered the Bible of dichotomous keys for plant identification. First published in 1927, it was the standard to which all other identification books were compared. The book is also extremely difficult to use without basic training in classic botany; not a picture in the book.

If you have ever wanted to own a classic, now is the time to act. Email me and for the cost of shipping, I will make it yours. Who knows, it might be of value on those nights when you are having difficulty falling asleep.

The Hand Writing Is On The Wall

 

 

 

While visiting an interpretive center dedicated to the local cannery workers, I was fascinated by how they recorded the events of the day onto the building’s walls.  The writing was reminiscent of the Native American petroglyphs I saw while visiting Utah many years ago.  I suppose that man has always had a need to express himself and the walls of an old cannery are as good of place as any.