Preserve Those Memories!

My parents: Jerry and Theresa Johnson

In one of my first blog posts, I mentioned inviting my parents to be "guest bloggers." Since then, I've been pestering them to jot down some of their favorite memories. They finally finished their assignment!  

Here they are:

It Could Have Been Ripley's Believe it or Not

Written by Jerry Johnson - 83

"Many years ago I lived on a farm, near Blue Grass,  Minnesota. It was the winter of 1942-43. I was 9 years old. We had an R.E.A. electric high line pole with a transformer in our yard. One cold winters day I saw something by it. There was a little snow on the ground but something looked different from the snow. It was an owl with a rat in its claws. 

                                                     Click to enlarge all pictures.

A young Jerry Johnson. How cool is that?

The owl had caught the rat then flew to the pole to have his lunch. But instead of sitting on the pole, it landed on the R.E.A. power line leading into our yard and was electrocuted. My dad and I took it to the nearby town of Wadena. The local paper took my picture holding the owl and rat. Afterwards, I found out the story made it out to a California paper. Strange things do happen!"

Poor owl, must've been a real shocker! But imagine what a find that would be for a nine year old boy! Dad says growing up on a farm in those days was hard work. Fields were still plowed using horses. He has some interesting stories. I've heard him tell the owl story numerous times and it never gets old.

Railroad Town
Written by Theresa Johnson - 82

"Staples, Minnesota was a railroad town and I was born there. Growing up we would say: 
 

"I'm from the Railroad Town. Toot, Toot. 
We make the wheels go round and round. Toot, Toot"

  

Staples Depot - mid 70's

Several freight trains would pass through Staples daily. There were always hobos riding in the box cars. Some of the hobos would get off the trains and look for food. We lived 5 blocks from the depot. My mother fed any who came to our door. 
She never turned them down. 

Grandpa and Grandma and the very
 steps those Hobos sat on.

The Hobos would pass onto others how generous she was. They would give others our address: 425 - 5th St North. Some days she would have 2 or 3 stop by. They would knock on the door - she would say, "Wait a couple minutes". Then slowly hand him a plate of hot food. They would sit on the steps  and eat it all. Then they would put the plate on the steps and leave."

Grandma Wrede - Isn't she lovely?

Typical Hobo

Grandma never had any problems with the hobos. They were always polite and humble. It was the Great Depression era, nobody had money. They were simply poor, hungry men wanting a hot meal. She fed the hobos for many, many years. Long enough for even my oldest sister to remember them. What a lovely testament to my Grandma and Grandpas compassion and generosity.

Staples, MN - Circa 1910

Railroads and railroad towns were the lifeblood of many rural communities back then. They employed many, including my dad and Grandpa.

Seattle - St. Paul Mpls. Northern Pacific Train - 1950's

Our family frequently took the train back and forth to Staples or Wadena to visit our Grandparents or other relatives. Passing from one car to the next was always a little scary. I remember feeling cold air, the rumble and sway of the train and watching the ground speed by below my feet. "What if they separated I wondered?" I always walked quickly! When I was 6, mom and I even took a train to Seattle, Washington.

 
Folks born around the years of my parents: Dad - 1932, mom - 1933 have seen the world change more then any other generation in history. Think about it...

Transportation: Horses, trolleys, the newly emerging automobile to ALL forms of mass transit and even space travel. 

Communication: Scratchy radios, shared party line phones, five channel TV's, to smart phones, limitless TV access and the instant anything internet. 

Not to mention the advancement of modern medicine.  They've witnessed the Great Depression, WWII, the Atomic Bomb, Korean war, Vietnam war, the Middle East wars and the rise of global terrorism.  


Except for the invention of the wheel and the discovery of fire, they've seen pretty much the invention or evolution of just about everything!!  

 






It's important to preserve their memories!!  

Thanks mom and dad for sharing your stories. Keep 'em coming!

PS: I think the ditty is my favorite, toot toot!  ;)

1972 - Sorry Mr. Westerhaus!

It never fails. Every time I am poking around in my old (and unorganized) photos, I come across "the picture." I'm starting to wonder, is it trying to tell me something? Possibly. I'll admit, every time I see "the picture" I silently hope that someday, I might run into the teacher I had that year, Mr. Westerhaus. 

Yeah, that's me - lower left corner.

If that day should ever come, I would first thank him for being an excellent (and patient) teacher, which he was. I would make some small talk and tell him that I grew up to be a happy and mostly normal person. I would thank him again. Then...I would apologize for all the headaches I'm sure I must've caused him that year.

  
I will relay one such incident, which in the context of today's classroom, is actually pretty mild.  

The Bees Knees.

A Hip mom or what?

Things were changing in 1972. It had only been the year before, thanks to the pushing of the "hipper" parents, (my mom being one of them - yea mom.) that girls were finally allowed to wear pants to school. This small town Catholic school, was no match for the newest, hippest trend of the 70's:  The Pant Suit. The men's version was known as a leisure suit.

Leisure Suit - I so remember Dad wearing these.

The early 70's also marked the beginning of the end for nuns being the primary teachers in the Lab school. One-by-one they were eventually all replaced by lay people. Mr. Westerhaus was one of the first. 

I was ten years old when my 6th grade school year began. Our second story classroom sat on the south-east corner of the school. The only windows in our classroom faced east, towards the church. (Before being retro-fitted to save energy, the windows were the size of the white square.) One cold, especially blue and clear winter morning, before classes started, Mr. Westerhaus instructed us to stand near the windows.  We were told to be silent and  reflective and watch the sun rise over the church. He indicated he was going to start some music, (to further enhance the experience, I'm assuming.)

The Lab School - uppermost left window-my classroom.

Already a smidge irreverent at 11 years old, "reflective, silent and watch the sun come up" seemed tiringly adult-ish, cheesy and boring. The music, Cat Stevens, "Morning has Broken" started, (the first three words of the song being the same.)  I don't know why, but something about that song...I could not keep a straight face. Distracting everyone I rolled my eyes, mock prayed, fake sang along, contorted my face, and laughed. Basically I made fun of (disrespected) him and what he was hoping (I'm guessing) to accomplish: experience the serenity of Gods presence in the wonder and beauty of the rising sun. 

I get it now, but obviously didn't then. What a brat. His "moment" was ruined. I was sent to the principals office (where I had a reserved chair...sigh) and duly reprimanded, which I deserved. (By the way, "Morning has Broken" was a chart topper that year and is actually a really good tune.)  

   

I don't know why I remember that story. I don't even know if it's a good story. But every time I come across that picture, that's what I think of. I also know that if I ever happen to see my teacher, Mr. Westerhaus, (now, 44 years later), I would tell him (awkwardly) I am sorry for ruining his "moment". It's never too late. Hopefully, we would both have a laugh over it. Last I heard, he was alive and still in the area...you just never know.

The St. Joseph Lab School Class of 1973:

What a fine group of 1973 kids...even the mischievous red-head.

Time Marches on.

I've found that as I get older reading the obituary page in the St. Cloud Times has become an important part of my daily routine. It is with a sympathetic heart that I read about the passing of a parent of a friend, previous co-worker or former acquaintance. These moments are particularly sad (but honest) reminders of how time marches on and there is nothing that can stop it or slow it down. I know part of my discontent is the deep down (scary) thought about how I, and everyone around me, is getting older...who hasn't thought THAT would never happen!

Jerry and Theresa

  

But this morning, what really made me start pondering was that I couldn't help but notice that of the seven written tributes, the youngest was 82. I guess that's a good thing: seven people who lived long and fulfilling (I'm hoping) lives. The youngest, being born in 1933, part of a generation that is slowly declining. One that has witnessed more changes in the world than any other generation. I could go on and on about how great they are. Within them, they have incredible stories, most of whom enjoy telling (and re-telling) them. 

So yesterday, (by coincidence) before this blog post was on my radar, I asked my parents (born in 1933 and 1934) to write down some experiences and stories about their earlier years. They really liked the idea and I am looking forward to  having them as "guest" bloggers--we don't want to lose these precious stories!!

My "most fun" craft post has to wait.

Welcome to my Blog!

I’m thinking that anyone who has ever started a blog, must feel like me: What should my first post be about? It's an important one, make an impression right? I know my blog will evolve, but to begin with it will primarily be about my artwork, crafting, reading, travel and writing for therapy, all with a sprinkle of humor here and there. In the summer the humor part will be easy as I will be blogging about my golfing.

Theresa

About the name of my blog: Ish Ka Bibble. It took a long time to come up with it. Over a year actually. I thought about it (a name for my Blog) often, searched the internet for clever sayings and even went page by page through my dictionary. As it turns out I didn't need to do any of those things. It was here all along. It is just right and here is why:

First, Ish Ka Bibble has sentimental value: my Mom, pictured. She’s been saying this word forever, in the context of something being “ishy” like moldy bread or dog poop. We all say it now, even my kids. It's part of our family history. The sign below was the (kind of a joke) gift I gave her at Christmas.
                      
Second,  is its meaning, which as it turns out has nothing to do with ishy things. Technically it’s not even a real word, like in the dictionary real. But there are a few items I found that give the phrase context. The one that I'll talk about and want to represent my blog is "to have no worries” or “don’t worry”. I tend to be a worrier so it's a good reminder to me to chill out and just take it easy. Third, it’s quirky, unique and just kinda fun to say! I’m guessing this phrase (and several other nonsensical words my mom uses which I'll talk about in other blog posts) was something my grandma used to say and mom just carried it along with her.  Like I said, it's got history in our family.   

                                                 So Mom, this blogs for you!

If you are reading this, I sincerely thank you for visiting my blog. I hope you come back. I’m super excited about my new blog! My next post will be about one of my first - and most fun - craft projects. Slightly inappropriate but isn't that what made it fun?!?

Thanks to Kevin (my husband) for his continued encouragement and support for me about this blog and of course for helping me getting it up and running. I am looking forward to writing it and very grateful for this new opportunity.

(One other thing about Ish Ka Bibble. In 2005 a blog was created using Ish Ka Bibble as its name and internet address (no activity since then) so I had to add an "r" (ishkabbibler) to the end of my actual internet address. Just FYI if you ever notice the discrepancy.)