Picture (left) Newsy News from Wayne & Denise Fromherz' Dana in Salem, Oregon

Wyoming, now?". to which, I answered, "Snow and cold, but, sunny.".  He exclaimed, "We're having flowers!", and he talked a bit about all the kinds of flowers up and blooming in the Willamette Valley, near Salem, Oregon, his home.  I asked him if there were any of "his favorite" Trillium blooming, yet. Dad said he thought there might be, but, he hadn't been out, nor down to the bottom land to see them.  Then, he started calling for my sister Marie, who had "given me" on the phone to dad and gone to bed earlier.  Dad kept calling for Marie!  I tried to tell him, "Dad, she's, probably, asleep...you don't have to wake her..." (you see, I had a sneakin' hunch dad was going to ask her this, and he did, when she came into his room after mom had awoken her to help her get dad ready for bed)..."Rita wants you (Marie) to go get me some Trillium from down in the woods, now!".

Well, by now, it was almost 9PM and dark!  Of course, I didn't mean for her to search for the trillium right then, but, "tomorrow morning, rather."!  I suddenly realized that dad was going to "give me" back to Marie on the phone, so, I, real quick-like, said, one last time, "I love you, dad!"...then, Marie was on the phone.  I'm pretty sure dad heard me, but, he knew I loved him.  I joked with Marie about the trillium and said, "...you're 'off the hook'...you don't have to look for the trillium until tomorrow morning!".  She laughed.  Then, we hung up the phone since mom needed Marie to help her get dad to bed 'one last time' (but, we didn't know that!).  What a blessing that I was able to talk with dad and Marie, to help mom with him the night before he died.  Mom was with him; he was in her arms, when he passed away; when he breathed his last.    (written by Rita Jo (Fromherz)

Reichenbach on April 16th, 2005...I revised my first draft, written on the day dad passed away).

Connie, The attachment is the vanity license plate of our cousin Robert Fromhartz in Florida.  If you remember he wrote the family newsletter about his trip with a daughter to Germany.  I thought that it was really cute so I am forwarding it to you for the newsletter if you choose to use it the next time around. Daniel

 When you see this tag you will be following a <FROM (heart)Z... Terry has # 2 and this one (1) is on my truck. I hope the picture sends this time.....Bob

Spring has Sprung, and, oh boy, do I have Spring Fever!!!  And, YES, I do think it is contagious!

 Obituaries Sunday,                                       March 20, 2005

Adolf Joseph Fromherz 

August 1, 1918 – March 15, 2005

SALEM - Adolf Joseph Fromherz (known as ‘A.J.’ or ‘Joe’) was born August 1, 1918 in Corvallis, Ore. to Adolf and Lucy King Fromherz. Joe grew up in a large family and was always close to his brothers and sisters. Joe had many fond memories of swimming and rafting, particularly on the Santiam River as a youngster.  He worked as a pipefitter and was a member of the Plumbers and Steamfitters Union. He also operated a dairy farm and a second hand store. He was known by many as ‘2X4 Joe’ because of his unique ability to figure out the best way to solve a problem. Joe was a member of St. Joseph Catholic Church in Salem and the Silverton Knights of Columbus. He had a wonderful appetite for watermelon. 

Joe and his first wife, Margaret, who died in 1961, had 8 children: Allen Fromherz of Falls City, Rita Reichenbach of Cheyenne, Wyo., Marie Fromherz of Salem, Frank Fromherz of Yamhill, Rose Lucas of Stevenson, Wash., Barbara Guarracino of Phoenix, Ariz., Sylvia Sharp of Lyons, Colo, and Louis Fromherz of Venita.

In May of 1967, Joe married Margie, who survives him. They have 3 children together: John Fromherz of Ft. Lewis, Wash., Paul Fromherz of Salem, and Matthew Fromherz of Ellensburg, Wash. Also surviving are seventeen  grandchildren and four brothers and sisters.

Vigil and Rosary will be at 7 p.m., Fri., March 18 at Unger Funeral Chapel, 229 Mill St., Silverton. Visiting will be from 8 to 9 a.m., Sat., March 19, and Funeral Mass will be at 9 a.m., Sat., March 19, both at St. Joseph Catholic Church, 721 Chemeketa St., Salem. Interment will be at 12:30 p.m., Sat., March 19 at St. Paul’s Catholic Cemetery, Hobart Rd. at James St., Silverton. Arrangements are by Unger Funeral Chapel, Silverton.  

   Recent Announcements from Buzz & Liz Fromherz (Jim’s Dennis)

             

          

Dear Connie,

Happy birthday to YOU!

Please give my love to all the newly weds and birthday boys.

Shalom

Br. Gerard-David

2hartz@bellsouth.net

Re: Newsletter From The Heart Announcement - Renee's Wedding Invitation

Connie,....Congrats to the soon to be wed couple....When I read this I did a double take.....My Grandmother (married to my Grandfather Harry Fromhartz) was an Anderson.....Her Father and one of her brothers both were named Matthew Anderson.....Pretty wierd huh?..........Bob 

From: Gregory Silbernagel [mailto:gsilbernagel@cocc.edu]

Sent: Tuesday, April 19, 2005 3:47 PM

To: congale@ispwest.com

Subject: Newsletter

      Hi Connie,   Well, I received a little postcard in the mail and this is my new email address so you may update that. Here is a little something for you to put in the newsletter though.

        Hi Everyone,

             I just thought I would update everyone on my whereabouts and such, since I have missed the family reunion a few years in a row now. I have been living in Bend and attending COCC the past two years and will have my Associates of Science degree in Outdoor Recreation and Leadership, where I will take it a step higher at OSU ~ Cascades in the fall. I will miss the family reunion once again this year, as I took a job in Pennsylvania at Camp Lohikan in the Pocono Mountains, where I will be an archery, rifle, and four wheeler instructor for boys and girls ages 8-15. I fly out June 15^th, and return August 29^th. Its going to be a wonderful summer and I hope to have enough time to travel the east coast while I am there. Once I get back, I will repack my bags and take off for the Eagle Cap Wilderness on a two week long hunting trip for bear, elk and deer. I’ve been over there three years in a row and its beautiful country. Then I’ll be back to school and it will probably be time to write another one of these for the next newsletter. If anyone would like to send me letters at camp, the address there will be

  Camp Lohikan / Greg Silbernagel

   PO Box 217

   Lake Como, PA   18437

 I hope everyone is doing well and god bless.

FROM:  Fromherz Family [rkmfromkofc@juno.com]

RE:  Kevin Coast Guard Cutter

Thu 3/24/2005 3:18 PM

Friends and Family of PO4 Kevin Fromherz;

This is Kevin's Coast Guard Cutter. He joined the crew two weeks ago in Hawaii, for the trip back to Seattle.

Russ Fromherz

*****************************************************

Here is a news story on the boat, enjoy.   Kevin

Subject: FW: POLAR STAR HOMEWARD BOUND

Homeward Bound

by PA1 Amy Thomas & PA2 Brooksann Anderson

U. S. Coast Guard

March 11, 2005

 

Seattle - A journey that started last fall to the sound of bagpipes began its final leg Feb. 12, when the Coast Guard Cutter Polar Star left Antarctica and headed home to Seattle, after a six-month deployment marked by tragedy, frustrating hurdles and historical firsts.

Polar Star, a 399-foot polar icebreaker, and its 160 crewmembers departed Seattle Nov. 4, 2004, for the Coast Guard's 50th Antarctic mission in support of Operation Deep Freeze. Polar Star makes the 28,700-mile journey annually to deliver fuel and food to the National Science Foundation research station in McMurdo, and to break open the channel to allow supply ships to reach the research station.

Supply ships deliver about 40 million pounds of food, vehicles, fuel, linens and other critical items for McMurdo's year round research and support staff, as well as the staff due in for next year's research season. Aircraft bring supplies to McMurdo on a regular basis, but they cannot move the required volume of cargo that the ships can carry.

"Without these supplies, the station would have to be evacuated and placed in caretaker status," said Cmdr. Craig Lloyd of the Coast Guard's Pacific Area Operations division in Alameda, Calif. "Not only do the supplies keep McMurdo operating, they keep [Amundsen -Scott] South Pole Station operating too."

Built in the 1970s, Polar Star's red hull is made of reinforced steel and at varying speeds is capable of breaking ice up to 21-feet thick. Its specially designed bow rides up onto the ice, which then breaks under the ship's weight. It also has a system that allows rapid shifting of ballast to increase the effectiveness of the icebreaking. The breaker can carry up to 400 tons of cargo, and two HH-65 Dolphin helicopters.

          NSF, the U.S. government agency that promotes the progress of science, conducts polar research in Antarctica year round, although its chief season is October through February. According to its Web site, NSF's three primary goals are to "understand the region and its ecosystem; to understand its effects on (and responses to) global processes such as climate; and to use the region as a platform to study the upper atmosphere and space."

On its nearly three-week journey toward Antarctica, Polar Star made stops in Honolulu, and the Australian cities of Sydney and Hobart. The ship's visit to Honolulu ended in tragedy when one of its crewmembers, 34-year-old Petty Officer 1st Class Mark Mueller, died during a recreational dive accident. Mueller, originally from the Chicago area, was diving with other crewmembers near a wrecked vessel when he lost consciousness. Mueller was pulled from the water but efforts to revive him failed.

"We were down [emotionally] for a long time," said Lt.j.g. Collin Bronson, Polar Star's public affairs officer. "Mark was well liked and it was tough to lose him, especially at the beginning of a long deployment."

The Polar Star and its crew continued south toward Antarctica, making stops in Sydney and Hobart to rest and make minor repairs. While in Hobart, which is on the Australian island of Tasmania and is the last stop before heading toward Antarctica, approximately 20 NSF scientists boarded the Polar Star to make the remainder of the journey south. The ship arrived at the ice Dec. 18, and discovered that this year the ice's edge, which in past years extended 30-40 miles from McMurdo Station, extended more than 80 miles from the research center.

The wind normally pushes the ice away from Ross Island, on the tip of which McMurdo is located. This year, though, icebergs that had broken away from the Ross Ice Shelf several years ago gradually migrated west to a point northeast of McMurdo Sound creating a barrier to the fast ice's route to the open ocean. Fast ice is sea ice that is immobile due to its attachment to a landmass.

The significant amount of ice presented challenges for Polar Star. Last year its sister ship, the Polar Sea, made the trip south to help break open the channel into McMurdo. This year, however, the Polar Sea is drydocked for repairs.

Polar Star's crew took a collective deep breath and plunged in. It wasn't long, though, before even the stalwart Polar Star suffered under the harsh ice conditions. The bolts located on the cover of the propellers were jarred loose from the extreme icebreaking, a condition that could cause the system to come apart.

"All that hard work takes its biggest toll on the ship, and extended ice breaking simply beat up an already aging ship," Bronson said.

Seven divers and 6,000 pounds of equipment contracted by Naval Sea Systems Command from a Louisiana-based company were flown into McMurdo on a C-141 airplane. The divers worked in 10-hour shifts and completed repairs to the ship's propeller system about three weeks later.

While the Polar Star was undergoing repairs, NSF chartered the Russian icebreaker Krasin from the Far East Shipping Co., when it became clear that the ice condition was severe enough to require a second icebreaker.

Back in the saddle again, Polar Star resumed breaking the channel into McMurdo for the supply ships. Since Polar Star has greater icebreaking capabilities than Krasin, it focused on the last fourteen miles leading into McMurdo, while the Krasin concentrated its efforts farther out.

Russian or American, because of Polar Star's and Krasin's efforts, the U.S. Navy fuel tanker Paul Buck made it to McMurdo Station's ice pier in late January and unloaded about eight million gallons of fuel, and the cargo vessel American Tern arrived Feb. 3 and unloaded its cargo.

Polar Star had to depart by March 1, a goal that was attainable partly due to the joint effort with the Russians.

"We had Krasin working most of the time that we were down," Bronson said. "Also, we had made so much progress before the [mechanical] casualty, we still finished ahead of schedule."

Polar Star served as an underway research platform for the scientists onboard. During their deployment, the Coast Guard crewmembers aided NSF scientists with several projects, including Inter-annual Variability in the Antarctic Ross Sea, which is a project that measures climactic changes that affect the entire world. They also completed several atmospheric tests on the trip down to Antarctica.

President's Day weekend, in the midst of the cruise back to Seattle, Polar Star got the call that they were needed elsewhere: the Samoan and American Samoan islands had suffered extensive damage from Cyclone Olaf, a category five storm that ripped through the region earlier in the week. The Federal Emergency Management Agency needed thousands of pounds of relief equipment moved, and the as the Polar Star was the only platform in the area with the capacity to move that much cargo.

"We were the perfect asset; we were in the right place and had the capacity to carry the load," said Capt. Richard "Mac" McCullough, Polar Star's commanding officer. "It was a great way to break the monotony of the sail home, and we were going to help those in need. There was no downside."

The cutter altered its course and arrived in Pago Pago Feb. 21. Over the next two days, wearing sunburns and sweaty shirts in the tropical climate, the crew worked from dawn to dusk loading bottled water, tents, tarps and engineering kits onto the ship's decks. Everyone on board, regardless of rank or job title, helped in one way or another to ensure that the 70,600 pounds of life giving supplies got to the people living on the islands of Tau and Ofu.

"Seeing those people's faces as we were pulling up to the dock was a feeling like no other," said Petty Officer 1st Class Joseph D. Shiver, a boatswain's mate assigned to Polar Star. "We never get to do missions such as these, being a polar roller, but it is the reason we all came in [the Coast Guard]; to help others."

Polar Star left American Samoa Feb. 23 and, after a brief port call in Honolulu, the cutter finally took its crew home, ending a trip marked by tragic loss, tough challenges and historical achievements. Upon their return to Seattle, amid the warm embraces of family and friends, the crew will surely feel the satisfaction of closing the chapter on this trip and preparing for the next. They will likely be full of stories to tell their spouses and children of the gigantic icebergs, the Russian ship that came to help, and the tropical islands ravaged by storms. And, beneath all the happiness and celebration at their homecoming, there surely will run an undercurrent of sadness for the one who did not return home.

Recent news articles regarding Frank Fromherz  (Joe’s Frank)

OREGON SHORES WELCOMES FIRST EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR IN THIRTY-FOUR YEAR HISTORY

 http://oregonshores.org/news/executive_director

 “Honoring the thirty-four year legacy of the Oregon Shores Conservation Coalition, the tenacious and talented work of founders and volunteers, I invite my fellow Oregonians and folks throughout the region to bring our talents and treasure to this worthy cause. In this moment and in the years ahead Oregon Shores can become even more effective— imagining and fostering a coastal future of ecological health and economic justice. I am honored to accept this opportunity to inspire local and regional community empowerment.” – Frank Fromherz

Yamhill, OR (3/1/05) – Meeting in Newport, the Board of Oregon Shores Conservation Coalition hires Dr. Frank Fromherz as OSCC’s first executive director. 

“A SENSE OF PLACE ”

    This Oregon farm boy with advanced degrees from Reed College and Berkeley (Graduate Theological Union, Ph.D. in Religion & Society/Social Ethics) was about to board a plane for China a couple of weeks ago when the Oregon Shores board asked him to consider a dramatic change of plans.   “I had been invited to teach at Tianjin University, but I could not pass up this sudden opportunity with Oregon Shores.  I have a sense of place here and a passion for conservation.  No matter where a family lives in this region—or if you just visit and pay attention to nature—you can’t help but come away with love and respect.   All my life I have been inspired by such power and beauty, from the top of the Coast range as far as the eye can see.”  In the late 1960s Frank milked Jersey cows on the family dairy located along the Big Nestucca near Beaver, just a few miles upriver from Pacific City.  He and his wife now do habitat conservation (in partnership with US Fish and Wildlife and the Yamhill Soil and Water Conservation District) on their family farm just west of Yamhill in the Coast range foothills.         Fromherz moves into the leadership role with a nonprofit committed to a conservation ethic.  Since its inception in 1971, Oregon Shores Conservation Coalition has built a reputation for grassroots empowerment and action.  Oregon Shores fights challenges to the Beach Bill, makes use of land use planning and water quality laws in defending coastal resources, advocates for public acquisition of coastal areas and campaigns for the protection of offshore habitats.  The new Pew Oceans Commission report, “America’s Living Oceans,” underscores the Oregon Shores mission and may well help place this nonprofit in the company of a national and global movement for marine reserves.

           His large family (Frank has ten siblings) lived on a small berry farm in Marion County in the 1960s and moved to the dairy in Tillamook County when Frank finished elementary school in 1967.  But his oldest memories stem from the Central Oregon coastal town of Yachats where his maternal grandparents retired in the early 1950s.  Frank’s family often visited them in those years, and on the way to the coast the car brimmed with the lyrics and melody of “over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go….”  His grandparents loved art and music, and Fromherz today believes that the work of ecological sustainability can be infused with a poet’s sense of imagination and play.  “Otherwise,” he says, “activism could become too rigid, exhausting and unsustainable.  A conservation ethic must include care for our own internal habitat—our body and spirit.”  When they were very young he introduced his two sons to the ebb and flow of the tides at Yachats, so that they could appreciate the power and insight found in a sense of place across the generations.  Fromherz has written about this in a book chapter, “A Sense of Place,” in an anthology All Creation Is Groaning, a University of Portland multi-faculty project.

            In the 1990s and until mid-2003 he directed the Archdiocese of Portland’s Office of Justice and Peace and also taught as a University of Portland professor of social ethics/religion and society.   Awarded the National Campaign for Human Development director of the year in 2003 for his empowerment model of leadership, Fromherz has long been an Oregon voice in peace and economic justice work.  In the 1990s he became a principal catalyst for the international Columbia River Pastoral Letter Project, which in 2001 was recognized as a “Sacred Gift” at a ceremony in Katmandu, Nepal, in an award made by the World Wildlife Fund and the Alliance for Religion and Conservation.  Fromherz worked with the National Religious Partnership for the Environment and served on the national advisory committee for the Environmental Justice program of the US Catholic Bishops.

      Now back after a 2004 sabbatical adventure in China, where he learned basic Mandarin and witnessed the wounded Yangtze River (e.g. the Three Gorges Dam, the world’s largest) and Shanghai (e.g. sprawl into the estuary), he has just begun his new management responsibilities on this side of the Pacific.  In partnership with the Board, Fromherz will lead the organization, building region-wide participation and capacity while supporting Oregon Shores’ action programs—including Land Use, Ocean, Legislative, and CoastWatch.  Long-time Oregon Shores participant Phillip Johnson has been hired to direct the CW program that he and others initiated several years ago as volunteers.  CoastWatch is an “adopt a mile” effort that monitors environmental conditions along the entire Oregon coast.  Over one thousand Oregonians currently participate in this aspect of Oregon Shores.  Mr. Johnson worked closely with the OSCC planning and development committee to seek foundation support and donor contributions.  Together with grassroots (several hundred members currently) annual membership fees, these supports have made possible this moment of Oregon Shores capacity building.

             Fromherz also speaks fluent Spanish and loves to learn languages.  “I am inspired by the voice lessons my mother taught me before she died giving birth to my little brother.  We were all very young when that tragedy hit, and though I cannot sing worth a darn I can offer my voice in honor of my mother and try to make persuasive arguments with all who care for the sacred commons and the music of the ocean.  Together, as we take up the legacy of many visionaries,” says Fromherz, “Oregonians in our best spirits want a coastal future of livability for all native flora and fauna, for the sustained joy of our grandchildren and for their grandkids.  As the marine ecologist Rachel Carson (Silent Spring) through science and poetry would gently remind us, we have so much to learn and remember, to treasure and preserve, at the place where land and sea embrace.”

Contact:  Frank Fromherz  (503) 662-4210    or    Doug Terra, OSCC Board President, Email at email4terra@yahoo.com, or write to us at Oregon Shores Conservation Coalition, PO Box 1344, Depoe Bay, OR  97341-1344, and Email to fromherz@easystreet.com or go to our website, http://oregonshores.org

April 4, 2005

Dear Connie, Peace be with you.  Happy Birthday!!!   

We have a lot going on: the Pope died, Br. Placid is very near his end, and the old monastery (that now houses our very large carpenter shop, stain Glass department and sand casting equipment and many other things I’m less aware of) burned to the ground last week. We have a couple of Observers and several promising candidates that have been in the retreat house in the past few weeks. Our Abbot is away in Venezuela visiting our Daughter houses at La Loma and the sisters at Homocaro. Please give my love to all the Aunts and uncles and cousins in their time of grief loosing already three Uncles in about six months with the others are in great need of love and prayer support being in danger of following on the heels of the others!!!  We know not the day nor the hour, but God awaits us with love beyond all telling for those who long for nothing but to love totally and live in love forever!

Shalom, Br. Gerard-David

Roy J Reichenbach [rjrx2@juno.com]

April 16, 2005

Re: A little story,

Once, when dad and Marie, and I, were late for church, dad trailing behind us, noticed he didn't have a tie on.  He called out, "Why didn't you girls let me know I didn't have a tie on?".  We responded with something like, "We didn't notice.", and kept on truckin' towards the church. Dad, a bit exasperated, retorted, "Well, "neck time", if you notice, let me know!". (respectfully submitted by me, Rita Jo, in memory of our dad Joe Fromherz...and, I must add:  our brother Frank Fromherz has, definitely, inherited dad's ability to make a play on words;  his boys Chris and Nick, following in their grandpa and dad's footsteps!  I have always nicknamed Frank "The King of The Puns",,,he's THAT good!  And so, our dad lives on in us!). 

Charlie Fromherz [charlesf@verizon.net]

April 4, 2005

I was the front pole car. The house is 16-9 high by 16-0 wide & 65-0 long. I had my pole set @17-0 , 3 inch above the house. Checking for low wire, bridges, etc. We took it from Ehrenburg AZ to San Diego CA. the long way to bypass the low bridges. Our route was set by State permits. also city & county permits. Yes I found a lot of low wires along the way.

 Charlie

Short and sweet Snail-Mail from the desk of Mary Gerding~ April 25, 2005

Thanks for all the prayers!  Dear Connie and Newsletter:  Just a short note about my recent health.  I have had a bad case of Polymyalgia Rheumatica (a form of arthritis) completely over my entire body for over 6 months.  With all the pain and loss of appetite, I have lost 25 lbs.  My family doctor transferred me to a specialist on arthritis.  Due to his care, I am now in no pain and am getting my appetite back.

I won’t be able to drive my car until I can get my strength back.  My car has been in my garage for over seven months covered over with dist and full of cheep gas!

I am doing much better and hope to see you all at the family reunion! My love, Mary

A Note From: Marie Fromherz (Joe’s Marie)

Dear Connie,  For the Newsletter:                                                                     April 23, 2005 About a week before Dad died I brought him Holy Communion.  He was asleep in bed.  I said Dad, just say “Jesus I Love You” and go back to sleep.  That’s just what he did.  I gave him Communion and he said “Jesus I Love You” and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

Dad received Communion everyday during the last month of his life.  I brought it to him at home.  Anyone can do it.  Love Marie

Thank you Marie for you Gift From The Heart. . . and for Mother Teresa’s I Thirst For You.cg

News from Winnie~                                                                               April 27, 2005

Dear Family,  Just under the line for May 1.  Today Scott is 18 years old.  Another Marine; Goes in for basic training 11 days after he graduates from Cascade.  Graduation is June 05.  Ryan is in Okinawa.  Dad retired from Marines and now two sons are Marines.

This has been a weird year.  I came home from Sacramento in February.  Had so much to do here then, so had to draw a time line.  Beautiful weather in February.  Now for awhile did not have to worry about filling the bird bathes!

Art Jr. did so much while I was gone.  He let me know I would be surprised!  No Kidding!  He pruned all the trees & burned the brush.  The large wood all cut up and picked up by neighbors.  They were more than glad to have it.

Now he is keeping things up here as much as he can.  Mows the lawn, etc.  Besides working at Phillips Industries in Stayton sometimes 11 hours a day.  He has things he is doing at his home besides ours.  Teri is so patient and been so good to me.  Teri is one of a kind & Art is so lucky he has her.

Many of the kids call to see how I am doing.  Thanks to my kitty we are holding down the fort.  I am at the house until they start the downstairs.

Art & Teri know they will have me there again.

I have had so many compliments on how wonderful the house looks.  New siding, new roof & dormer windows.  It is a gorgeous place now.  Art Jr. keeps the lawn mowed and it is hands on.  He set up the irrigation last week and I am sure we will need it.  He put it away last fall & nothing frozen was any problem this year.  A year ago we lost a pump because it was not put away like it should have.  We had to buy a new one.

I don’t have to worry much about berries this year.  They will always trim & train new ones up on wires.   I found out pretty fast I was not that good.  So cut them all back as always did the black berries, they will be fine. 

Hope you can read this really bad scratchin’.  Love, Winnie

From: Roy J Reichenbach [mailto:rjrx2@juno.com]

Sent: Saturday, April 30, 2005 8:50 AM

Subject: Some rambling memories of Rita's.........................

Our mother liked us to call her “Mother” out of respect, I think, but, to us, it was just as endearing as “Mom”.  She was definitely the disciplinarian of the two.  Dad was gone a lot of the time, working as a plumber and steam fitter, helping do repairs and maintenance, etc. while the paper mill had a “shut down,” usually during the Christmas Holidays or some other such “un- opportune time of the year”.  I remember he had to spend weeks at a time away from home.  It must have been hard on the both of them, Mother and dad.  Dad also helped to build many of The Holiday Inn's in The Northwest, especially the Salem area.  

My aunt Mary, uncle Jim's wife, once told me a story of my mother baking a loaf of bread which turned out very hard.  She buried it, so dad wouldn't have to know.  Dad had taken a camp cooking school, I believe, during his army days, before they were married., and, if he was anything like he was later on, after Mother passed away, HIS WAY of cooking was THE ONLY WAY.  I liked to experiment with new recipes, make tuna fish casserole and things like that.   Chop suey, which my aunt Winnie, uncle Art's wife taught me to make and other new things,  dad didn't always appreciate.  But, back to the hard loaf of bread.  When dad returned home from work that evening, there was the family dog, on the porch, enjoying every bite of that treasured find of his, Mother's loaf of bread, which the dog had dug up.  Now, since I don't remember this story personally, we can just imagine what my parents must have gone through.  They probably ended up laughing about the whole thing!

I was talking about Mother being the disciplinarian, because of dad being away so often working.  She was firm, yet gentle.  I do remember getting a few spankings, though, and Mother would say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you!”

She taught Allen, myself, Marie, and was starting to teach little Frank to play the piano.  We were required to practice for half an hour every day after school before we were allowed to go out and play.  It was excruciating.  Half an hour might as well have been two hours for a kid in grade school!  It paid off, though, Mother organized recitals, a BIG DEAL, with all kinds of folding chairs in the spotless front room.  Parents and friends of all of her piano and voice students would sit in the audience, including she and my dad, and us kids, dressed in our very best, would play our recital pieces we'd memorized.  She always told me, “When you make a mistake, just go on like nothing has happened, and no one will notice.”  Well, that was a hard thing for me to do.  I'd want to start over, if not from the beginning, at least from the nearest jumping off point.  You see, when you memorize a piano piece, you just about have to get it right or a cog gets thrown in there and you come to a halt.  Mother was patiently trying to teach us, her children, and the other children she taught, to get over that!

She would line us up, Allen, Rita, Marie, and Frank, and have us harmonize songs like “Frara Jocka, Frara Jocka.”  Allen would start out with the first line, then, each one of us would chime in succession.  Allen was going on with the song, “deaf” to our singing.  That was the only way you could do this and keep sane.  Mother always was after us to smile while we sang.  We must have looked cute?! 

Lawrence Welk was a must see on our TV every Sunday night.  We watched it as a family and thoroughly loved it.  There might have been varying opinions, however.

When dad would come home from work, it was another BIG DEAL!  We'd all greet him with hugs and show him all our most recent sprained ankles, scraped knees and bee stings, but mostly mosquito bites.  Mother had to deal with all these little emergencies while he was away.  Once dad built me a pair of crutches, so I could limp to school anyway, after I'd jumped down off of somewhere too hard and sprained my ankle.  Dad, himself, once sprained his ankle on the job, bad enough for him to stay home and be off work for a time, that was fun (for us!).  I'm not sure, exactly, but, dad has broken his ankle, arm and leg at different times.  And, once, when he was older, he fell backwards off a cherry ladder and had a concussion to the back of his head.  Mom (Margie) and Marie had quite a time getting him in to the doctor.  Dad was singing something about already being halfway in the grave, kind of a funny song, but, Marie and Mom weren't in a funny mood as you can imagine!  Dad was OK, after a few stitches and an X-ray or two.  Mom and Marie might remember this story differently, so believe their version first!

One time, when Mother was taking little baby Rose to the doctor for her shots and a check up, Allen accidently slammed the car door on her tiny big toe, nearly severing it.  Mother quickly scooped her up (there were no seat belts nor baby car seats at that time in the 50's) and took Rose back in to the doctor who stitched the soft toe back together, and I think everything was fine after it healed quickly.  Babies seem to heal much quicker than older people.  When I had to hand over our two week old baby girl to the anesthesiologist to have surgery, it was like I might not see her again alive, it was awful.  Good thing Roy was by my side and comforted me "till she woke after surgery, then she let out a scream that could be heard throughout the hospital halls. After the doctor gave her some Tylenol, she slept all the way home, a one hour drive to Douglas, Wyoming.  She woke up the next morning just as happy as could be.  It was like she was already as good as new!

         Dad tried other things to “bring home the bacon,” feed and support his growing family.  He sold Forney Arc Welders for a time.  I can remember going out to the old garage, where we lived on Cherry and Pine Streets in Salem, Oregon, and he'd be welding something, maybe demonstrating a welder to some prospective buyer.  He was always a very careful dad.  He'd immediately have us put on the shields and look at the sparks flying, through the safety of the special smokey glass.  We were to stay far away from the sparks, too, so as not to get burnt.  Our Mother was also very careful with us kids, warning us to never accept candy from strangers, or go anywhere with them, but, scream for help and run.  That reminds me of another story which I'll tell in a bit.

Some of dad's welder patrons couldn't afford to pay dollars for the welders, so dad would take something in trade, like a steer, or a heifer, or a couple of nanny goats and a Billy goat.  We'd be delighted when the nanny goats had twin baby goats in the Spring.  We got to help milk the nannies and feed the babies their milk in glass ketchup bottles with black rubber nipples.  We had to hold on to the bottles very tightly, since the "kids" would butt at the nipples so hard.  Those baby goats were so darn cute.  As they grew, though, they could stretch up further and further on to the fruit trees that my dad would plant at each place we lived at.  They loved to strip the trees of their leaves, so, dad would construct chicken wire fences, very high ones, all around the little fruit trees or they'd have never made it!  I can remember hearing our heifer (or was it a steer?) bellowing in the back yard where it was staked near the grape vine, right in the middle of the city, on occasional mornings.  Next, I remember enjoying roasts and hamburgers from that critter.

Dad also picked cherries to make money between his construction jobs, his plumbing and steam fitting jobs were not steady.  Sometimes Marie and I would go along with him.  We'd play in the yards of the older ladies he'd pick the cherries for while he kept a watchful eye on us.  I was pretty good at climbing cherry trees to enjoy the fruit, especially, at home in our black cherry tree out front.  I could put away a lot of those little cherries in one sitting!  My Mother always wanted me to be a “Lady,” but, I preferred being a “Tom Boy”, which seemed to me to please my dad more.  Once, while Mother was preparing a salad, I commented that I could eat a whole head of lettuce, I liked it so much, and she gave me a worried look. 

Allen got way up in a big Bing Cherry tree in our back yard, went out on a limb, and got scared. His knee started shaking and he couldn't come down, so, dad climbed up and rescued him.  Maybe dad used a cherry ladder to rescue him, I don't remember for sure, but, I do remember that incident because it was a BIG DEAL, too!

Back to where I talked about our Mother warning us to never accept candy from strangers.  Once, she took Allen, me, Marie, and Frank downtown.  We were in the old panel wagon, an old van with no windows except in the front, sides and very back.  It was completely closed in.  She had something to do in a beauty shop which just happened to be right next to a bar.  She had instructed Allen, who was the oldest, 8 or 9, to baby sit us until she came right back.  She told him not to open the doors for anyone, but her.  Well, some of the littler ones started fussing and crying and guess who pulled up next to our panel wagon but a policeman.  Somehow, after quizzing Allen from behind the closed windows, he surmised that our mother had gone into the bar, rather than the beauty shop.  That is where Allen was pointing.  Now, I don't know if he went into the bar or the beauty shop to look for Mother, but, we wound up down at the police station.  All of us kids were scared, and the nice policemen were trying to make us comfortable by offering us CANDY!  Of course we stoutly refused as we had been taught.  Soon Mother appeared at the door crying, the first time I can remember seeing my mother cry real tears, using Kleenex and more Kleenex.  She was so relieved that we hadn't been kidnaped, but I know it must have worried her sick until she found us.  I still don't know HOW she found us.  The policemen told her how we'd refused any candy from them and she praised us for that.  I'm glad that story was over!

Dad took the Real Estate test and got his license to sell Real Estate!  He promptly found the place on Scissim Road about 5 miles West of Silverton, Oregon.  After convincing Mother that we'd get a water softener and would not be living “in the wild,” he bought that 13 acre farm and we moved in the Spring.  Quickly, dad, Allen, Frank, and even, us girls got busy building an addition off the back porch.  It had a large family room and two pretty good sized bedrooms for Frank and Allen.  Us, girls, all slept upstairs together (Rita, Marie, Rose, Barbara, and little one year old Sylvia).  Dad also built on a nice two-car car port, covered with corrugated aluminum, some of it was “see through”.  It sloped towards the gravel driveway.  Lots of rain, especially, in the Wintertime, made that a good idea. 

We joined the 4-H Club and I raised two Poland/China pigs.  Marie had Rhode Island Red chickens.  They sure got big!  Allen went China Rooster Pheasant hunting in the corn field stubble where they, plus Quail, were abundant.

Dad was a farmer at heart, so he was delighted with the 13 acres of berries (Blackcaps, Elderberries, thornless Blackberries, Boysenberries, Chahalem's, Marion berries, and some Raspberries).  He took out some of the berries, like the blackcaps, and we planted corn.  He put in a nice big vegetable garden in the rich Willamette Valley soil on that farm near the house. I'll always remember how good his cooked Swiss Chard tasted with salt and butter on it!

Marie's chickens were delicious, too, after she'd shown them at the State Fair.  She may have won a blue or purple ribbon!  I'd never seen, nor tasted such luscious and huge pieces of fried chicken in my short life.  Of course, dad showed us how to chop off their heads, put them in gunny sacks by their feet until they quit thrashing.  We’d then dip them in boiling water, pluck their feathers off, singe the hair off of them over some open flame, cut them open, gut them, properly, so as not to contaminate the meat, then cut the pieces up in grand style.  We'd cut the back with ribs piece apart from the back with tail piece.  He even showed us how to carefully cut out the oil gland located on top of the tail.  Roy always calls the tail piece on a chicken or a turkey, the “Pope's Nose”, because his grandma Gertrude Jensen always did.  Roy's my husband.  We learned how to avoid cutting the bile, and how to take all the rocks and grit out of the gizzard, oh, yes, and to save the liver and heart, so they'd all be edible.

Dad cured his own bacon and ham.  He had a mixture of brown sugar, pepper, and salt.  He cured them in bins in the old chicken house.  Then, I remember he hung them up and smoked them for a long time.  They were pretty good, but, I, personally, would have preferred milder bacon, because his burnt too fast when you fried it (all that sugar cure, probably).  Dad butchered goats, pigs and an occasional beef critter, and kept it in our big deep freeze with all the frozen berries and corn, etc.

We were out on the first hill, picking blackberries one August afternoon, August 15^th.  Our aunt Marty, visiting us on her way from Hawaii to New York City, called for dad to come up to the house, so he left us kids picking.  Mother was having difficulty with her eighth child and had passed a lot of blood, so dad took her right in to the Silverton Hospital.  Aunt Marty stayed at home to care for us 7 children.  Sometime during the early hours of the next morning, Mother had given birth to a baby boy, her eighth child, whom she and dad named Louis Martin.  He had come a month prematurely and needed to be incubated for some time, but, he was otherwise healthy.  Mother passed away from loss of blood, sometime that August 16th, 1961.  There wasn't anything anyone could do after it was discovered she had been bleeding, and the key had broken in the lock of the blood supply room.  An ambulance with blood and supplies was sent  from Salem, but, it arrived too late.  Dad never did talk very much about that night, but, I do remember him saying something about using an axe to try and chop open that door in which the key had broken off in the lock, but, to no avail. 

My sister Marie told me that a good priest friend of Mother's wept like a baby at her bedside when she died.  When dad came home and the light of day shown in the windows of our upstairs bedroom, Marie and I awoke to him coming up the stairs.  I could see that he had

been through “Hell”.  Pardon my expression, but, that's how I'd describe it, today.  His right eye was completely bloodshot.  I'll never forget that.  It stayed that way for a long time afterwards, too.  He gently asked Marie and I to come sit on the side of our bed and told us quietly that our Mother had passed away that night.  We immediately started to cry, but, he told us, not to cry, that she was in Heaven because she gave her life for her child, and we had a new baby brother Louie.  He said we should be happy for her since she was, now, in Heaven, but, somehow, that didn't console us very much...we wanted our Mother back!

Frank was about 7, and I was 11, Marie 9, Allen 13, Rose 4, Barb 3, Sylvia 1, Mother was 35 years old, and dad was about 45 or 46 years old.   I remember that Frank and I sat in the driveway and prayed very fervently, three “Hail Mary's,” asking God to bring our Mother back home to us.  We just knew He would grant our request.  I was sure disappointed with God.  Our Mother had told us that God would give us anything we asked Him for as long as it would not harm us.  We asked, “Like a knife, or a gun would?”  “Yes,” said Mother.  “And, does that mean God would even bring us a red wagon, if we asked for it, if it wouldn't hurt us?” we asked.  “Yes,” she said, “Anything.”  Well, we never got our Mother back and life sure changed drastically after that day.

          Let me tell you a little more about life BEFORE Mother died.  She used to love to make us homemade French Fries, but was always concerned about the hot grease starting on fire or one of us getting burnt, so was very careful.  She loved to make Angel Food cakes from “scratch” with 12 egg whites and everything;  I watched her.  I loved the smell of the almond flavoring, or maybe it was cherry/almond flavoring she'd put in the cake batter at the right time.  She liked to use Jergens lotion for her hands, and I, still, to this day, love the smell of the cherry/almond scent in original scent Jergens Lotion!  Mother would painstakingly give Marie and I home permanents, which we hated, but, she'd say, “Beauty must suffer.”  She liked to let us grow our hair long, then brush it 100 times, or teach us to do that.  Dad liked to cut everyone's hair in the family, including us girls's, and, when Mother would relent, he did.  He did a pretty good job of our hair, too...made it look like a “Bob” cut. 

Before Mother died, us older girls used to help give baths and help dress the “little kids”, (Rose, Barb, and Sylvia), when we could, so, after she died it was just natural for us to continue to take care of them, with an added little brother.  He went into the bath tub right along with the girls, no matter.  Mother was a good seamstress.  She loved to, but, now, I'm amazed at how she found the time to, sew us clothes;  matching outfits, like white dress's with red velvet polka dots and red velvet sashes and bows around the waist, matching green dusters with red velvet lining in the cuffs and a green beanie that was reversible into red velvet on one side.  Then, she made the same exact outfit for herself, looked beautiful in it and even made little tiny dress's for Rose and Barb and Sylvia!  She made us many things, including sun outfits, with shorts on the bottom and tie tops with our initials sewn on the front.  She also made checkered green and black shirt coats with black skirts and matching pants, which were nice and warm for the cold rainy Winters.

Mother found time to paint a daisy and a rose (two separate oil paintings), I know, 'cause I saw them.  Her dad, my “Gramp's”, Al DeRyke, was a sign painter by trade, and when he retired he painted oil pictures of the ocean where he and Grandmother lived, right next to the ocean in Yachats, Oregon.  He also collected rocks and agates and cut and polished them. 

When Mother came back from going to her dad's funeral, my sister Marie reminds me

that us kids had gone around and picked every flower in her gardens to give her when she returned.  She was so grateful, she just cried and hugged us.  She loved to work in her roses.  We had Rhododendrons, Camellia's, Tulips, Daffodils, every kind of Crocus, and, oh yes!, Iris's.  Lots of Iris's and Hyacinths.  We had Hawthorne tree's at the Silverton Farm and Marie claims we had a patch of St. John's Wart in front of the kitchen window, there, too.  We also had Dandelions, lots of Dandelions, that we used to hold one under our chins to see if we liked butter.  Our Grandmother DeRyke's favorite flowers were purple Lilacs, Pansies, and African Violets.  She raised wonderful African Violets and colorful Pansies.

Now, dad had a different kind of flower to work with, Tanzy Wragwort, a noxious weed which grew profusely out in the Willamette Valley, then, even, later out at the dairy on the coast near Beaver, Oregon.  Us brothers and sisters would go out daily on work detail, chopping them down, collecting them, and burning them before they went to seed.

Dad always saw to it that the boys would milk the cow and slop the hogs at the Silverton place and the girls would do the cooking and wash the dishes, do laundry, and clean house.  After dad married "mom" on May 13th, 1967, Frank, Marie and I milked the cows, carried in the newborn calves, and fed the cows their hay. “The Little Kids,” Rose, Barb, Sylvia, and Louie, made sure the cows got their feed with bloat guard in it if they looked like they were bloated from the alfalfa and grass in the Spring and Summer, or else the cow could die.  Mom took care of the cooking and she has always been an excellent cook!  We all helped do other dairying work, too, including cleaning the gutters behind the cows, carrying in the buckets of milk and dumping them into the milk tank (we had a Grade B Dairy; for cheese).  Dad fought like the dickens to keep the cows healthy and free of infection, but it was a losing battle.  He finally ended up selling the cows. 

He had traded the Silverton place for the dairy to an old couple who had worked on that dairy for years and years, seven days a week, milking twice a day, like clockwork, year around.  They didn't like it much when they saw dad wasn't doing everything exactly as they did it, so came and criticized him a time or two.  I remember, my dad wasn't too happy with them for that.  He just stated, matter of factly, that they had no right to come back and tell him how to run his own dairy, after all, he didn't try to tell them what to do with the Silverton place! 

Dad liked the wild mustard plant, which grew in a field across from us at the Silverton place.  Once, we all went harvesting the tender new tops, bringing them home and steaming them, eating them with butter, salt and pepper...ummm, GOOD!  Once the owners of that field planted strawberries and the first year they produced just tiny red berries, few and far between.  After school, I'd go out and pick them, bringing quite a few home to freeze for us to eat later.  They were quite tasty, even though they were small in size.  No one ever said for me to quit doing it, so I just kept picking.  Of course, when those same strawberries got big and bushy enough to really pick for the cannery, us, kids would help pick them.

Seems like we used to get 25 cents a carrier, which held six "hallicks", or six, one pound boxes of picked strawberries.  A "crate" was two carriers and we got 50 cents for one of those.  Strawberry picking was hard  work out in the cold rain and hot sun, early in the mornings to start and early in the afternoons to quit when the sun got unbearable.  Early in June for Strawberries,  Boysenberries, beans, then thornless Blackberries.  We had to train them up on to the wires, cut out the "thorney" ones, and pin back the new shoots growing down below.  Dad would plow, then disc the rows between, and before the berries would

start to ripen, he'd have someone come spray them for worms and bugs, or, he'd have a crop duster do the job, depending on how big a field he had.  We'd always have to go and hoe out the weeds that came up in with the berry vines, careful not to damage the new shoots growing below, nor the "old" ones trained up on the wires and ready to produce the berries.  Dad would have to irrigate the berries occasionally, too, then, they'd get big, fat, and juicy!

When we first arrived at the Silverton berry farm, dad found an old empty oil barrel, cleaned it out real good, cut it into pieces, all around, so there were scoops, to which he fastened some sky diving harness's, to hold the scoops up when we put them on and walked down the berry rows with the scoops under the berries, which we just picked and let drop into the scoops, then come time to empty them, we'd walk down to the end of the berry row and bend over and dump the berries out into the crates waiting there.  It was a really nifty way to pick berries...better than the old bucket-tied-around-the-waist.

Once, during a lightening storm, I got so scared I was going to be a target for lightening with my scoop on, I flung it up over my face and shoulders, as the thunder and lightning' crashed and flashed, cutting my lip quite badly.  Of course, unless it was a real emergency, we didn't go in to see a doctor, so, therefore, I, still, to this day, have a scar on my right side of my lip from the cut.

I, once, was running barefoot (Oh, who can remember running barefoot all Summer long when we were kids?) through the yard, and stepped on a bee of some sort, which stung me between my big toe and the second toe.  My whole leg swelled up to my knee, like an elephants foot.  I was continually putting a poultice of baking soda and water on it, but it took it's own sweet time to go down, a week or two, I think?

Uncle Art used to bring his kids over in the back of an old truck from Shaw, Oregon, to our berry farm to help us pick berries.  They were a lot of help and fun to work with.

The Yellow jackets (bees) were always thick around the crates of berries and they were drunk on the fermented berry juice they drank, too.  They'd leave you alone unless you put your hand or finger down on one of them, hiding underneath the crate when you went to pick it up, so, you had to BE CAREFUL!  Some people who are deathly allergic to bee stings just can't do that kind of work.

When Rose was a little girl, like 2 or 3 years old, dad built a rocking horse, we called it a “Hobby Horse”.  He painted it white with a black saddle, good sturdy handles for Rose to hold on to and wooden stirrups for her feet.  Rose loved the TV show Zorro, so she'd tie on a cape wearing a mask we’d made, like the real Zorro, and she'd rock on that horse, like the dickens, singing, “Zorro-da-man-a-dee-o!” or something like that! 

Dad was always making us things to have fun on.  He made us wooden stilts and added strips of inner tube to keep our feet from slipping off.  We learned we could run, kick, and jump in those stilts, showing off to the traffic on Cherry and Pine Streets in Salem, of course, and then, go up to a wall or a fence, let the stilts fall forward and step right out of them, safely.  We thought we were Hot Stuff, yeah!

We got Pogo Sticks one Christmas and bounced our pounds off with those. Then, another Christmas we got Hula-Hoops and you know how much effort they take to keep up!  Etch-a-Sketch's were “in”, so we got those, Oh, yes!, and paddle balls, those wooden paddles with rubber balls attached with a rubber string.  They always broke, but, they were cheap and they were fun!  Dad made us homemade blackboards, huge ones,  which he mounted on the wall in the living room, where we'd draw with colored or white chalk to our hearts content.

Dad brought home bits and pieces of scrap lumber for us kids to play with and we sure had fun with building all sorts of imaginary things with them.  He also brought home empty appliance boxes, which we made into pretend African Huts and houses.  Later, at the Silverton place, I used to draw on those boxes and make windows, with flower boxes, doors, appliances tables and chairs, pictures on the walls, doors, etc., etc. and the Little Kids  would have lots of fun playing in them.  Shhhhh...don't tell anyone, but, I, also, drew that kind of stuff on the sheet rock in the small closet of our bedroom upstairs.  It had a little door and a light bulb in it, so it was perfect for a rainy day hideout home! 

Once, when we were a little bigger, Frank and I got into one of those huge appliance boxes and starting at the top of the hill by the barn, we rolled, like the tread of a “CAT,” down the hill, 'till we suddenly hit water.  We had gone into the Little Pudding River, which ran through our bottom land!  We should have known, however, that we were getting close, as we had smashed a lot of cattail's along the way.  We laughed and laughed, though we were soaking wet!

Dad made tire swings every place we lived at. At the Salem place, there were two long ropes holding a wide board.  That was a very popular swing for the kids in the whole neighborhood.  We’d get to invite whole class grades over for our birthday parties, for which Mother would bake a birthday cake and have hats, party favors, nuts, mints and everything.

Birthdays were always a Big Deal around our family.  We tried to get Mother to tell us how old she was, but, she'd only say, “Twenty one-plus!,” and say no more.  Maybe Allen figured that out before the rest of us dummies, but, she meant she was married when she was twenty one-plus however many years had passed since that date.  Sneaky, huh?  Mother always had a way of making you feel good about yourself, if you deserved it.  We ALWAYS knew she loved us, even when she'd say, “No!” so many times.  That used to really bug me, though, at times.  Dad, however, was more of the fun one, coming home with the goodies.

Once, Mother told Allen to leave the door ajar, so, Allen, promptly, went and got a canning jar and left it next to the door.  Mother laughed and we all did.

Mother loved to sing.  Dad loved to sing.  Sing, sing, sing.  When we'd go on road trips, both, dad and Mother would lead us in song, so many songs that I couldn't begin to name all of them  here.

Mother played the piano, usually, at night, after us kids had gone to bed, with dad reading the paper, or whatever, and us kids falling asleep to the beautiful piano music.  It was pure bliss. 

We knew Mother and dad loved each other.  Mother would hug and kiss dad, a peck on the cheek in front of us, and often, too, she, being the instigator of the affection most of the time.  Dad seemed to just need to “soak it up.”  Once, when they were hugging, at the Silverton place,  I nestled in-between the two of them, looking up and remember feeling more secure than I ever had in my whole life.  I was almost 11.  I knew my parents loved each other and that's all that mattered.

Dad took an old oil tank, or some kind of sturdy steel tank, welded legs on to it, painted it, and filled it with water for us kids to swim in.  Of course, after a few weeks in the hot Summer sun, water bugs grew in there and we'd swim anyway, screaming when one wiggled between our legs or brushed past our backs.

We used to play croquet and dad would love to play horse shoes, practicing up for the

annual Fromherz Family Reunions held at Avery Park in Corvallis, Oregon.  Dad loved all his brothers and sisters and each one of their children, and later on, their children’s children.   Dad made it no secret that he loved each one of us, his own kids, too, and our children, as well.  Mom is a mother to each one of us and a good Gramma to each one of our children. 

Mom and dad had three big, strapping boys, who have grown up into very fine gentlemen.  One, Matthew, the youngest is married.  He and Karen have a four month old darling baby girl.  John is in the Army Reserves.  Paul has had a steady job, first, with the Smuckers Cannery Company, now, with the same company that bought out Smuckers.  Mom is a person with the GREENEST THUMB of anyone I've ever known, no kidding.  My brothers Allen, Frank, and Louis, plus their wives and children, I am very proud and fond of, too.  My sisters, Marie, Rose, Barbara, and Sylvia, and their husbands, and children...well, just, DITTO!  I am so thankful, to God, for my parents Peggy and Joe and for my mom, Margie.  Last, but, not least, I am ever so thankful for my sweet, kind, thoughtful, and loyal husband Roy, and for our precious daughter Margaret Mary “Marge” Rayda, and her husband, Ryan.   Love, Rita Jo (Fromherz) Reichenbach, May, 2005.   

Connie,  Our cousin Eileen who now lives in or near Atlanta, Georgia and is connected to us on the King side her second great grandfather Ulysses Grant King and Abraham Lincoln King (Lucy Adelia King's father) were first cousins sent me the following just in case you happen to find your self back in Tennessee!

Things I've learned about Tennessee and being a Tennessean...(or from Georgia)

1. Possums sleep in the middle of the road with their feet in the air.

2. There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 live in Tennessee.

3. There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 live in Tennessee plus a couple no one's seen before. (P.S. They left out the 1,000,000 cockroaches.)

4. Squirrels will eat anything.

5. Unknown critters love to dig holes under tomato plants.

6. Raccoons will test your crop of melons and let you know when they are ripe.

7. If it grows, it sticks; if it crawls, it bites.

8. Onced and twiced are words.

9. It is not a shopping cart; it is a buggy.

10. Fire ants consider your flesh as a picnic.

11. People actually grow and eat okra.

12. Fixinto is one word.

13. There is no such thing as "lunch". There is only dinner and then there is supper.

14. Ice tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you're two. We do like a little tea with our sugar!

15. Backards and forwards means "I know everything about you."

16. Jeet? is actually a phrase meaning "Did you eat?"

17. You don't have to wear a watch because it doesn't matter what time it is. You work until you' re done or it's too dark to see.

Tennessee part 2:

You know you're from Tennessee if:

1. You measure distance in minutes.

2. You've ever had to switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day.

3. You use "fix" as a verb. Example: "I'm fixing to go to the store "

4. All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, insect or animal.

5. You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.

6. You know what a "VOL" is. (So, what is it?)

7. You carry jumper cables in your car...for your OWN car.

9. You only own four spices: salt, pepper, Tabasco and catsup.

10.  The local papers cover national and international news on one page but require 6 pages for local gossip and sports.

11. You think that the first day of deer season is a national holiday.

12. You find 100 degrees Fahrenheit "a little warm".

13. You know all four seasons: Almost Summer, Summer, still Summer and Christmas.

14. You know whether another Tennessean is from east, west or middle Tennessee as soon as they open their mouth.

15. Going to Wal-mart is a favorite past time known as"goin' Wal-martin" or off to "Wally World".

16. You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good pinto-bean weather.

17. A carbonated soft drink isn't a soda, cola or pop...it's a Coke, regardless of brand or flavor.  Example: "What kinda coke you want?"

18. Fried catfish is the other white meat.

19. You understand these jokes and forward them to your friends from Tennessee or Georgia (and those who just wish they were). Not EVERYONE can be a Tennessean, it's an art form and a gift from God! Or send them to Non-Southerners to "make fun". 

     

Doctor and  Mrs. Roberto Dominguez

 have the honor of announcing

 the marriage of their daughter

 Maria Cristina

 To

 Doctor Scott Douglas Fromherz

 Friday the twenty-fifth of March

 Two thousand and five

 Maui, Hawaii

 

From: Pat Zollner [mailto:patzollner@msn.com]

Sent: Tuesday, May 03, 2005 8:38 AM

Hi, Connie~

Thanks for your note.  Yes, we're working on relocating.  We've been in transition this past year, with Paul starting a new job last November in Wilsonville.  Chris is our last one at home and has been finishing out her 8th grade year while I've continued working here in Eugene.  As the school year draws to a close, we're trying to firm up our plans for relocation.  Other than hopes and intentions, we haven't had much solid to report, but gradually things are taking shape.

We've been looking to move to Mt. Angel--a 20-minute commute for Paul's work.  I'd like to be closer to Mom and Dad so that I can be more helpful to them in the years ahead.  And, of course, we already feel like Mt. Angel's home, so it'll be more like a homecoming than moving into a new community.  We're in the process of purchasing a place there, and will probably be moving in mid June.  I'll get our new address and phone # to you in due time.  I don't know what internet service we'll have there, so we may end up having a new e-mail address, as well.

Just a quick update on the kids:  Katie & Jim are still here in Eugene--Jim completed his Bachelor's last December and works for a CPA firm and Katie's nearing the completion of her Master's degree this June.  They still plan to take a Peace Corps assignment this fall and are just waiting to hear where that's going to be.

Monica had a wonderful fall term at Lancaster University in England.  She's been finishing out the year at OSU and applying to Nursing Schools.  She'll be working in a rural health clinic this summer and perhaps next year, if she has to wait to get into a program.

Tecie's been up at Portland State this year--loving being in the big city.  She has a part-time job at Forever 21.  Sadly, we don't see her as much as we'd like--it's difficult for her to get weekends off. 

Chris has had a great 8th grade year--went on a fun school trip to Florida.  She and a couple of friends put out a bi-weekly newspaper all year, which may evolve into a student-run school newspaper in the future.  Currently she's in the middle of track season and having fun with that.

Well, best wishes to you and the clan.  If our moving schedule doesn't mess up, we'll hope to see you at the reunion in June~  Pat, Paul & family 

From: Fromherz, Judy MAJ 104DIVIT                     Sent: Wednesday, May 11, 2005 8:05 AM                                    Subject: FW: Letter from General Schoomaker    

To all, Thought you might like to see what I got in the mail the other day.   Love ya,     Judy