I subscribe to a wonderful blog, DAYTON UNKNOWN, by co-authors, Sara Kaushal, and Bethany Kmeid. I’ve never met these women but find them fascinating. I love all their submissions but today’s was both tender and tragic.
Magee Park: The Woman and Her Baby
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Despite my 5:00 AM – 12:30 AM travel adventures, yesterday (Thurs; Sept 20), I was wide awake at 7:00 AM with three fizzy faced kids eager to begin their day.
I heard something quite different than the construction next door at the high school and realized it was the marching band. It’s Fairmont’s homecoming and the pep rally was underway.
Fairmont HS Marching Band & “The Fight Song”
I stood on the edge of my deck listening to the marching band. I find it exciting to live next to the energy and the music.
There are a number of items to complete this morning but first I’m headed to the post office to ship donuts! I have a ton of writing to complete, inspired by yesterday’s visits to family cemeteries and family pioneer homesteads.
On with the day! Make it a great day.
By 5:30 AM Thursday morning I was on the road to Indiana to visit Mother.
I arrived call mom with little traffic effort, at 9:15 AM.
As I was waiting on a traffic light about 15 minutes before reaching Mother, I read a post on my Facebook page from her that requested a photograph of all four of my dogs since she only had photos of three. The funny thing was, I had already put a photograph of The Quartet in a frame in her goodie bag.
We spent about an hour chatting And then moved on to Watseka, Illinois where we met up with our family friend, Nancy Sumner, who drove down from Chicago to spend the day with us. We chatted for two hours at a park and then moved on to a Chinese lunch.
I left Mother’s nursing home at 3:15 PM and drove to Forrestville Cemetery in northern Madison County to visit the grave sites of my grandparents, great grandparents, great great grandparents, and great great great grandparents. Actually, I paid my respects to six generations on my mother’s side, as well as the gravesite of my great uncle who is killed after a fall from a horse at age15 and 1937.
At the last minute I decided to head 7 miles to my hometown, Elwood Indiana. It was the first time in six years that I had been back. I drove by several meaningful sites and finished off the brief pass-thru by visiting with Linda and Chuck Kane, and their grandson, Alex, who is the son of my friend, Brent. The Kanes own Lucky Strike Bowling Alley where I spent many years of my youth and my all time favorite eatery, Pizza King. It was wonderful to catch up with the beautiful folks.
A few more cemetery stops, a dinner buffet at The I-69 / IN-28 truck stop and I was fully en route to Dayton, arriving just shortly after 11:00 PM. The car was returned to Enterprise after a stop at Bill’s Donuts to send one to my son in California and the other to be enjoyed at the homecoming game tomorrow evening.
A fantastic day and many thanks to Mother, Nancy, Linda, Chuck, and Alex for making it memorable and so happy.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
At 7 AM it is already 75° with 100% humidity and neither seem to be lessening throughout the day.
Yesterday’s scorching temperatures felt more like mid August than mid September. The yard has hit that ugly stage where everything is dry as Autumn begins to take hold. This is the time of year I lose complete interest in the yardwork and maintaining the lovely look of late spring and early to mid summer.
Last evening, one of my college students came to the house around 10:15 PM for assistance with college music theory. After 45 minutes of work, we immediately turned our conversation to philosophy and other inspiring points of interest. By nearly 1 AM, we were finally wrapping up our conversation.
This morning’s sun, so far, has not been very successful cutting through the thick haze. A heat index warning just came across my cell phone.
On with my day. Make it a great day!
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Wednesday morning has arrived with a few showers and sprinkles which were not originally in the forecast and I’d already decided to complete things in the early part of the day.
The bus to the Dayton Mall area is subdued. Several folks are sleeping.
The pooches were not happy to see me leave. Chief loves some extra pillows I once used in my room and since I had tossed one on the guest bed he hopped right onto the bed.
Three pooches on the guest bed.
Miss Erma.
My original three have always been allowed on the beds. Erma, apparently, was not permitted on the beds or furniture in her previous home and remains dutiful. Her previous home really did a super job of training and loving this girl! Whomever you are, thank you.
It’s off to a packed day. Make it a great day.
Tuesday is a wrap!
The fire in these students began Sunday and has not decreased one bit. New skills and technique were a synch and adherence to the process was astounding.
Tomorrow is another busy day and I’m counting on a clean sweep with the next batch of students.
The last student left at 9:45 PM and after a brief supper I’ve spent time playing with Th Quartet. They are so much fun.
The season for my favorite treat mix of candy corn and salted peanuts is here. This was one of my favorites as a child that Mother set out each fall.
I moved to the deck for a few minutes and something has grabbed my sinuses. I cannot stop sneezing.
I’m off to the upper chamber where I’ll fold/hang clean laundry, read, and enjoy snuggled slumber with the best dogs in the world.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
I’ve had two solid days, Sunday and Monday, with approximately 35 private students making significant strides and choices during lessons with exhilarating results.
This morning I’m feeling slightly sluggish, probably a bit drained. I’m backing up my writing and researching to 10:00 AM and I’m taking an additional nap.
The teaching resumes at 1:00 PM, today, and goes straight through to 9:45 PM. Much more to do.
Make it a great day.
“Monday, Monday, so good to me
Monday mornin´, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday mornin´, Monday mornin´ couldn´t guarantee
That Monday evenin´ you would still be here with me…”
The day was busy as heck from 7:00 AM – 10:00 PM with no breaks, but, oh, it was so energizing!
Teaching class. Some research. Solid teaching from 1:00 PM – 7:00 PM followed by a two-hour pre-screening videotaping session with one of my seniors preparing for musical theatre college programs. She did a marvelous job! Now, there are ten more recording sessions to complete! Woo hoo!
I am zonked! It’s a good zonked!
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Karen Carpenter lulled us with “rainy days and Mondays always get me down” but I choose to ignore her on this rainy Monday morning as I’d hate to waste the moment.
At some point during sleep I became aware of the rain. I didn’t hear it but could smell the sweet aroma of fresh rain wafting into my bedroom.
Peaceful.
It’s comfortable on the deck with a nice temperature, low humidity, and rain tapping on the canvas covering above me. My coffee and toast are completed and I’m prepping myself for a busy day doing exactly what I enjoy doing.
The rain seems to have subdued The Quartet this morning who remains inside the guest bedroom with the door open to the deck.
And it’s off I must be with this glorious day. Make it a great day.
Oh, my gosh! I taught seventeen lessons, today, and it seemed like each student was competing with another – the students were on fire!
I am exhausted but exhilarated.
Before leaving the deck, this morning, for the comforts inside and away from the heat and humidity, I watched 9-year-old Erma set the pace for an hour’s long game of chase between she and The Sisters who will turn five years old in October. They raced the length of our large backyard, around the deck, on the deck, inside the house, over and over. Finally, Bailey and Harrigan grabbed some water before collapsing on the deck where they napped for a good hour or so, often rising to get more water.
I looked at Chief… he is aging quickly. He’s not ill but I can see the signs of slowing down begin to move in, more and more. Arthritis is sometimes a battle but the supplements work wonders for him and he manages the stairs just fine, as well as hopping onto my bed and the bed in the guest bedroom which is, for all practical purposes, “The Canine Chamber.”
Since I am always with Chief I had not noticed how white his face has become. Several months ago I posted a photo and Dee Friesenberg, a dear neighbor and friend, commented on Chief’s white furry face. I looked at the photo and then, looked at Chief. I still see those beautiful eyes and his puppy’s face is still right there in front of me, but he is, indeed, aging quickly. He rests a lot more but is still an active ambassador with the students and their families.
As I finish up this passage, Chief, ever faithful, is napping directly behind my chair. My faithful pal is always nearby, usually within petting distance.
Tomorrow, when the world returns to the start of another work-week, I will be starting my second day of the fun-week with tons of research and writing to be completed and forty lessons to teach through Wednesday evening.
What a fantastic start to this week!
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Chief in a rare smiling moment
Erma is the most eager photo subject
And just like that, the fun, busy weekend is over and it’s back to my four day routine of teaching, researching, and writing while attempting to maintain the house which seems to always fall short.
A dramatic play, a musical, and a marching band contest were the capstones of my three day break, as well as a visit to my much beloved Carillon Park.
Bailey taking a break from The Erma Games.
Harrigan taking a break from The Erma Games
My writing schedule for Saturday was moved aside to assist a friend-colleague in rewriting an entire section of their marching band closer that was not working. By the time I left for the nearby marching band contest the band arrangement was 3/4 done and my vision was blurry.
This morning has greeted me with most comfortable conditions on the deck to continue some business items and research prior to digging back into the music arrangement.
Erma is my chew-dog. Occasionally, the original trio would pull an item out of the trash for some chewing time, but Erma has taken this to a whole new level. I now keep my study gated when I leave, and items in the kitchen needed new placements.
The other day I returned to find a large new box of Raisin Bran devours and the cardboard bits spread throughout the house. When I asked, “Who did this?” Erma ducks while the others take pleasure in knowing Dad is not upset with them.
So, this morning, my breakfast consisted of coffee and a slice of cake from a student’s mom.
Chief was a terribly ornery little fellow. I should have named him Houdini as there was precious little he could accomplish, even up to the overhead cabinets in the kitchen. He quickly became the lead dog and his behavior is exemplary: Chief is just the best dog.
This morning, the best dog decided he’d like to try some of the cake Margaret delivered. It was just too funny and my laughter and photo taking didn’t deter him.
Ahhh… the morning is moving too fast and I need to race it.
Make it a great day!
Erma keeping watch at the deck’s south entrance
The two elder dogs relaxing
Gathering of The Quartet
MIAGD: Make it a great day
The deck is a tad breezy and very comfortable in the mid-70s temperature and low humidity but will shortly become warmer as we near Noon.
I was successful in taking only two shots of The Quartet from two different angles and in record time!
This morning and afternoon will be devoted to researching and writing. Tonight is a marching band contest at Bellbrook High School.
And that’s my day. Make it a great day!
I kept the day moving along from start to finish!
I worked on the deck with research and writing and completed my morning at Carillon Park to visit the new Wright Brothers’ exhibit and a lunch at Culp’s Cafe.
The afternoon was spent in my study researching and writing, a quick nap with the dogs, and at 6:00 PM I was out the door for a wonderful evening with Jim and Linda Utt for dinner at Uno’s and THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME at The Victoria Theatre.
One of the songs from the show by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz, “Someday,” is a special song to me. The lyrics… ahhh, the lyrics. For many years, the lyrics, which I’ve included below, along with a video of Nick Pitera performing a beautiful rendition, were on our family Christmas cards.
It was a damn good day!
Ah, yes.
I know.
But, I love having books at my disposal. I love the sight of book filled bookshelves throughout my house. I grew up in a house filled with books and I find themt comforting.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
It’s just hit the noon hour and the temperature is at 80F with the humidity high at 84%, just enough to make this beautiful day uncomfortable.
By 10:00 AM I’d stepped off the No. 17 on Far Hills Avenue and was chatting with Mother as I trekked over to Carillon Park to take in the newly updated Wright Brothers Aviation Center.
After a brief chat with my former student, Lily, who is in college and working full time at admissions and in development, I was off to the new exhibit.
OUTSTANDING.
Wilbur & Orville‘s camera that took the photograph of the first historic 1903 flight
With so many Wright family contributions, as well as items from the former Kettering-Moraine Museum acquired by my late-friend, Melba Hunt, I was practically bathing in Wright Brothers’ history.
A shawl worn by Susan Koerner Wright
I took No. 11 to the downtown terminal to grab a few items from the grocery before backtracking to The Haasienda.
A snapshot from one of the several films of Orville Wright in later years
This afternoon I need to accomplish a great deal of writing before joining friends for dinner and another theatrical event.
Make it a great day!
THE GUYS, by Anne Nelson
This evening I attended a student’s production in which he portrayed a fire chief who lost a considerable amount of his firefighters during 9/11.
Powerful.
This play was off my radar and I am so glad it is now in my line of sight and that I am learning about the playwright, Anne Nelson.
About the playwright, Anne Nelson, from Google books:
Anne Nelson is an award-winning author and playwright. She is the author of Codename Suzette; Red Orchestra: The Story of the Berlin Underground and the Circle of Friends Who Resisted Hitler; Murder Under Two Flags: The US, Puerto Rico, and the Cerro Maravilla Cover-up; and The Guys: A Play. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Harper’s, BBC, CBC, NPR, and PBS. Nelson is a graduate of Yale University and a member of the Council on Foreign Relations. She teaches at the Columbia School of International and Public Affairs in New York City.
Robin Flynn’s THE NEW YORK TIMES write-up on the playwright, Anne Nelson.
About THE GUYS: (from Wikipedia)
THE GUYS is a play by Anne Nelson about the aftereffects of the collapse of the World Trade Center. In the play, Joan, an editor, helps Nick, an FDNY captain, prepare the eulogies for an unprecedented number of firefighters who died under his command that day.[1] The play debuted off-Broadway at The Flea Theater on December 4, 2001, directed by Jim Simpson and starring Sigourney Weaver and Bill Murray.
Since 2001, The Guys has been presented in 48 US states and in the Czech Republic, Argentina, Japan, Italy, and Poland. Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon presented it at the Edinburgh Festival. It enjoyed a commemorative rerun at the Flea Theater in 2006 on the 5th anniversary of 9/11. In parts of the theatrical run, the two roles were played by Anthony LaPaglia and Sigourney Weaver. They also star in a 2002 film adaptation, for which Weaver was nominated for a Golden Satellite Award for best performance by an actress. The play was published by Dramatists Play Service and Random House in 2002. The audible.com recorded version, which featured Bill Irwin and Swoosie Kurtz, won an Audie Award for the best-recorded play of the year.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
A Facebook post reminisced about the days of sitting on the front porch chatting with family and neighbors.
I certainly grew up in such an environment.
This is not a family photo
My grandparents, Leroy and Donna Barmes, lived on the southwest corner of South A & 8th streets in Elwood, Indiana, and their large, imposing house had a nice-size porch that always accommodated a large gathering. When I picture their front porch I immediately hear the gentle squeaking porch swing that was the hub of conversation and activity.
The house in which I grew up, built on a large hill on the exact opposite corner of the next block had an even larger, wraparound porch, but no swing. Instead, we used the extended patio in the back of the house, away from the busyness of the Main & Ninth Street intersection at the stoplight.
At Grandpa and Grandma’s house, it was much like being at my own home, and I was never a guest. Their home was also my home. My other home.
This is not a family photo
My grandfather, a police officer, often worked the midnight shift, thus affording me a good deal of time with him before I began school, and on holiday breaks or in the summer once I did begin my daily sojourn at Washington Elementary School, also attended by my mother, her brothers, and several of their first cousins. I was my papaw’s little sidekick, or as he introduced me, “My Boss.”
One of my favorite pass-times with Grandpa was to visit their next-door neighbor, Ruby Parker. Ruby’s children were the same age as my mother, now grown, and her grandchildren were my age. Ruby lounged on her front porch swing less than 40 feet from my grandparents’ porch with whatever crochet or knitting project covering her legs. I later figured out the project was not spread across her legs as much for comfort as it was for measuring her progress.
“Ruby Doll!” My grandfather’s nickname was always his bellowed greeting as we left the front porch to cross the short expanse of the yard to chat with Mrs. Parker. It was clear they dearly adored one another.
One early morning, Grandpa Leroy sneaked over to Ruby’s yard to remove her flower boxes off her front porch to set on the ledge of his own porch. Later that morning as they enjoyed their morning chat, Grandpa commented how nice “Donna’s flowers” looked on their front porch. Ruby looked up and said, “I know. I’ve been admiring them all morning,” obviously missing the fact her flowers were missing.
One summer evening, while Grandma and Grandpa were seated on their front porch after dinner, a very young neighbor boy came to the porch.
“Mr. & Mrs. Barmes? Have you seen my dog?”
Grandpa turned to Grandma and asked, “Oh, Donna, was that what we had for supper?”
The boy tore out of their yard, screaming, “Mom! The Barmeses ate our dog.”
This is not a family photo
Front porch swings seem to be either regional or a thing of the past. I seldom see anyone in my busy neighborhood on their front porches and front porch swings seem to be obsolete. I, myself, prefer the privacy of my back deck where I spend a good deal of time writing or researching and enjoying the dogs. Still, I do enjoy neighborly chats across the fence, in one another’s living rooms and in the front yard.
Make it a great day!
Since early childhood, I’ve been rooted to the sites of Indianapolis’ Monument Circle, most especially, The Soldiers’ & Sailors’ Monument that graces the three-acre site.
Each opportunity afforded me, I take a moment to simply drive by the monument or stop for a few minutes of walking the site. I treasure the visits where I can walk from the Indiana War Memorial, several blocks to the north, to Monument Circle and then a westward trek to The Indiana State Capitol to be greeted by the statue of Gov. Oliver Hazard Perry Throck Morton that looms high above passersby.
I was eight years old the first time I actually got to climb the winding stairs to the monument’s observation deck. My grandparents, Donna & Leroy Barmes, then only 48 and 50 years old, were young and energetic guides as we explored the Indianapolis Children’s Museum, lunch at Shapiro’s Deli, the Indianapolis War Memorial, and then a jaunt around Monument Circle and up the inside the monument. It was mid-November, 1972, and workers had just completed stringing the lights from the top of the monument for the annual Christmas tree lighting. I was mesmerized by the large bulbs and cords that would soon light the magnificent kaleidoscope.
The evening after Thanksgiving, my grandparents returned us to Monument Circle for the annual celebratory lighting of the tree after the arrival of Santa Claus to officially kick off Hoosier holidays. Years later the lighting of the tree would be capped off with fireworks from the tops of several buildings.
While researching for a current project, I stumbled across the history of The Soldiers and Sailors Monuments and was quite captivated.
By 1827, a second governor’s home had been built in the center of the circle drive. It was named Governor’s Circle. Due to its location and the collection of celebrants during historic moments and patriotic holidays, Indiana governors did not live in the house. Indiana supreme court justices used the structure for their offices. Soon, the property became dilapidated and the building was raised in 1857 and turned into a park.
After the Civil War, there arose a need to honor Indiana’s fallen soldiers and the political games and funding began for a structure suited for the three acres. A Berlin, Prussia architect, Bruno Schmitz, submitted the winning design, The Symbol of Indiana. It turned out that Schmitz was a friend and artistic colleague of the monument commission’s secretary, James Gookins.
April 22, 1889, a vast crowd gathered for the laying of the cornerstone in which was placed a copper box time capsule.
May 15, 1902, the Soldiers & Sailer Monument was dedicated.
For more reading on the history of Monument Circle, please follow the Soldiers’ & Sailors’ Monument.
From Wikipedia:
I do love this wonderful memorial in the heart of Indy!
MIAGD: Make it a great day
My version of Friday is here and it could not have come any sooner; my body feels like it’s in a pepper mill.
The morning is cool and without rain, but the darker clouds hover above and the world still feels damp from the weekend’s torrential pouring.
The morning has been productive and I’m pleased with the accomplishments coming up on 10:30 AM. I’m making some purchases from 2nd & Charles Bookstore at Town & Country and once returned home I will write/research until time to teach, 1:30 – 9:30 PM.
My college and beyond friend, Linda Lewis, a wonderfully gifted librarian in the Dayton Metro Library system, has been an angel with guiding, coaching, and assisting me with a current project. She recommended the book, WOLF HOLLOW by Lauren Wolk. I walked right into the bookstore and located a copy within minutes. The first page grabbed me and energized me for my own project.
Hallelujah!
It’s almost time to catch the bus, home, and I’m eager to dig into more of my day.
Make it a great day!
While doing some research for one of my writing projects I discovered President Theodore Roosevelt visited Indiana in 1902.
While passing through a Massachusett’s city, a trolly car ran into the president’s horse-drawn carriage. The president was propelled from the carriage, landing on his face on the pavement beyond the carnage of the wreck which killed a secret service officer.
Roosevelt, known for his toughness, journeyed on his speaking tour to Nebraska, then to Detroit, Michigan before traveling down through Indiana with stops in Logansport, Kokomo, Tipton, and Noblesville before a major stop in Indianapolis. It was while making a speech at Monument Circle that pain in his leg from the accident became unbearable – even for The Old Lion.
Pres. Roosevelt speaking in Tipton, Indiana, near my hometown, Elwood.
From “When Theodore Roosevelt was Hospitalized at St. Vincent’s”
“Teddy Roosevelt, who was limping noticeably and wincing with pain at almost every step, had to have his infected leg lanced and drained at St. Vincent’s Hospital.
At that time, St. Vincent’s was still located downtown at the corner of South and Delaware Streets, just a short distance from the club. Surgeon Dr. John H. Oliver performed the operation, which kept Roosevelt clear of the threat of blood poisoning. (Blood poisoning was serious business in those days and usually ended in death. Tragically, its specter returned to presidential history in 1924, when Calvin Coolidge’s 16-year-old son, Cal, Jr., developed a blister on his toe while playing tennis on the White House lawn. Young Coolidge died of the resulting infection within a week.)
Doctors examined Roosevelt’s leg wound by natural light coming through a south window of the hospital. “He took only a local anesthetic,” the Journal reported, “which was applied to the leg. He seemed to feel that an unnecessary amount of fuss was being made over him. . .” Yet as the surgery proceeded, the president’s “arms were thrown behind his head with his hands clasped. Occasionally the pain became so severe that his elbows bent close to the sides of his head as if to ease the pain. His eyes were closed and his teeth pressed close together.”
Accompanying Roosevelt to St. Vincent’s that day was U.S. Secretary of War Elihu Root. (In spite of his bellicose job title, Root went on to win the Nobel Peace Prize in 1912 for promoting goodwill between the U.S. and Latin America.) Root was one of the few government officials allowed inside the building. An anxious crowd of several hundred Hoosiers gathered outside “and never removed their gaze from the hospital.” Even Hoosier senators Charles Fairbanks and Albert Beveridge and Governor Winfield Durbin “were challenged by the guard and not permitted to enter.” Militiamen and Secret Service agents were stationed outside St. Vincent’s. All was silent, only the clip-clop of the occasional soldier’s horse passing on the street.”
St. Vincent’s Hospital, Indianapolis IN
Pashaw: used to express irritation or disbelief
Several months ago I was shopping at Tuesday Mornings in Kettering’s Town & Country shopping center where I’d purchased a beautiful shawl for Mother last year.
Mother wearing the shaw I gave her in 2017
I wandered through the store and found a rack of hanging items. One stood out and I took it to the cash register for purchase.
The clerk held it up and said, “Oh, this is pretty, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I responded. “I bought my mother one from here, last year, and she loves it. It looks good on her, too. I love this texture – it’s unique.”
“Looks good on her?” she asked.
“Yes. The shawl.”
The clerk paused a moment before continuing. “You do know this is a bath rug?”
“A bath rug?”
She began laughing. “Yes.” She showed me the broad cardboard tag.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Thank you for pointing this out to me.”
She offered to put it back for me and said they’d be getting shawls into the store as the cooler weather kicked in.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Erma & Chief
I finished teaching slightly early, last due to students in rehearsals, and took advantage of some shopping, an early dinner (before 10:00 PM) at 8:00 PM, and was upstairs in bed by 10:00 PM.
This morning The Quarter allowed me to sleep until 8:15 AM. I wasn’t particularly tired but I did enjoy just laying quietly beneath the blankets with Bailey and Harrigan snuggled tightly next to me.
The morning routine is complete and since I decided to play with the dogs a bit to hopefully tire Erma a bit so she’s not ramped up to keep her wound down while I write I am 15 minutes behind my schedule.
Whatever the day brings you, make it a great day.
I love Chief’s expression. He actually seems to be smiling.
Abraham and Mary Lincoln only had one of their four sons to live into maturity. Their eldest son, Robert Todd Lincoln (August 1, 1843 – July 26, 1926), would marry, celebrate the birth of three children, and prosper as an attorney, US Minister to The United Kingdom, 35th US Secretary of War, and president of the Pullman Palace Car Company.
Robert Todd Lincoln married Mary Eunice Harlan, the daughter of Senator James Harlan of Iowa. They had three children,
Jack Lincoln was raised in privilege, far from the impoverished life of his famous grandfather who died eight years before his birth. He was the only direct link in the Lincoln bloodline to officially carry the Lincoln name.
Sadly, while studying in Paris, France, Jack had a minor operation for a carbuncle. Returned to London where his father was serving as Minister to the Court of St. James (now known as an ambassador), infection set in and Jack Lincoln died, thus ending the direct Lincoln male line.
Jack was originally buried in the Lincoln family tomb in Springfield, Illinois; however, his mother, seemingly still disgruntled with her mother-in-law, removed Jack’s remains following the death of her husband to Arlington Cemetery. Robert Lincoln’s wishes to be buried with his family were denied.
I ran across two photographs of the convalescing Jack Lincoln and was struck by how he had traded in his young round-faced boy for the familiar gaunt-faced image of his grandfather and namesake, even down to the unruly crop of hair.
Jack’s sisters bore children who did not have any children of their own. The last line of Abraham and Mary Lincoln was Robert Todd Lincoln Beckwith, 1904–1985.
MIAGD: Make it a great day
Oh, is their clock ever accurate!
Last night I decided to turn off my alarm since I didn’t need to teach class Monday morning and finally, at 8:15 AM, four dogs, eager to meet the day, tackled me with kisses, wiggles, and hopping about the bed.
I wish I could have bottled their energy.
The 57F temperature is only expected to climb to 63F and the rain I thought had finally taken off last evening, apparently returned for one last hurrah sometime through the night. The remainder of this week is projected to gradually climb back to the 80s by the weekend.
Last night, I was working with a piano student on Johann Friedrich BURGMÜLLER (1806-1874): Ballade, Op. 100, No. 15. I had played this thrilling piece many, many years ago and love introducing it to students.
As my student and I walked through the first page, we discussed fingerings, I showed him an alternate fingering for two measures that my teacher had shown me many years ago. The student examined the measures and said, “But I could also do this fingering in addition.”
It was a neat addition to the fingering pattern I had known for so many years. I was excited for several reasons: there are now three generations involved in this particular process, and as Oscar Hammerstein II wrote in his lyrics for THE KING AND I, “If you become a teacher, by your pupils you’ll be taught.”
It was another meaningful moment of experiencing the process of sharing and continuing to be a pupil, myself.
Right now, I am in my study with the heater turned on. Chief and Erma are nearby, gathering some of the warmth.
Mother and I have finished playing phone tag and have begun our conversation on speaker phone. Erma, unaccustomed to me talking on the phone, is having difficulty understanding from where the other voice is coming and growls each time Mother speaks.
And as I close, the sun is making its first appearance in The Miami Valley since last Thursday afternoon. What a welcome site!
On with the day. Make it a great day!
I’m working on a major writing project centering around my maternal great-grandmother, Mary Belle Jones Clary, familiarly known by her middle name, Belle.
I’ve been diving into the lives of her parents, grandparents, and other relatives, most of whom were pioneers of Boone Township, Madison County, Indiana, since the 1820s. I’m also exploring the lives of her husband, John William Garrett Clary, her children Ronald, Donna (my grandmother), and Joyce, as well as her brothers, Alpha “Alphie” Jones and Harry Jones.
It’s exciting to explore their lives and the times in which they lived starting in 1900.
For inspiration I’ve set their photographs on my desk.
Belle & Garrett Clary, 1964
Anna Greenlee Jones, my great-great grandmother
The Haasienda on Shroyer... 