April 2004 The Megaphone Page 6
by Karen (Stine) Hollies
If one of our daughters had done this, I would have reacted violently. I took drivers' ed. and passed the test and obtained my driver's license; however, we were a 1 car family and Dad saw no reason why I should drive. Frankly, I was not (and even to this day, am not) enamored with driving. I use the vehicle to get where I want and shun driving for relaxation.
But, I digress. So, I let the license lapse and went
through my late teens not driving. In 1962 a high school classmate (who shall
remain nameless), my room mate from Madison, and I decided to drive to Florida
in my classmate's car. She was the only licensed driver. We left on a Friday
evening after work, and she drove until about 1 a.m. when she became exhausted.
It was then that we decided that I could get us through
Tennessee and Alabama. She handed me her license, started the engine of the car
and crawled into the back seat for a nap. Things went well. There was no traffic
and I cruised to a slow roll through stop signs. However, there was a moment of
panic as I approached a red light and had to stop completely.
"Wake up! What do I do next?" She roused and instructed me
quickly -- I believe it was a stick shift -- and we drove on until it was nearly
daylight when she once again showed me how to stop the car completely and she
took the wheel.
In retrospect -- I wouldn't have trusted me with
that car. The residents of Tennessee and Alabama never knew what they missed or
what (thank God) missed them.
Submitted by . . .
Karen (Stine) Hollies '54
Virginia Beach, VA
How and Why I Left Elwood . . . Only to Return
by Julie (Stout) Crim
When I was about 12, I went off to church camp for
two weeks. I wanted to stay forever. It was farther north than I had ever been,
at Twin Lakes, and Howe, Indiana. If northern Indiana was this nice, how much
better would farther north be? How far north could I go before I would go south?
You see, I asked too many questions I was told, ever since toddlerhood. This was
just one more. Always, I wanted to know about what was farther than I could see.
There wasn't much traveling while growing up other than to go by myself on the
train to Cincinnati where my aunt and uncle lived. I started doing this when I
was seven. Mother would put me on the train and my Uncle Paul would always meet
me. As a teen, while there, I got fairly good at hopping on different buses
around the city and figuring out how to get back. My family would have had a fit
if they ever knew I did that.
Shortly after graduation I married. The following March, after being laid off,
"we" joined the military. The Air Force was chosen because dependents
could go more places overseas than any other branch of the service. Shortly
after the first baby came, I was living in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Right from the
start I knew I loved the West. The next assignment was called a remote in the
South Pacific so I came home to Elwood for a year. After that came Bunker Hill
AFB much to my disappointment . . . at first. But, I did like living in Kokomo.
Before I could hardly turn around I was on my way to Guam, almost alone, just my
two year old son and me. Now that was a trip! The story appeared in some back
issues of the Megaphone for about five or six months.
After Guam came Albany, Georgia, Turner AFB during the civil rights fighting and
oh my, fighting to the death. I worked in the hospital and saw more injustices
than you could shake a stick at. That's where my oldest son became part of
history by being in the first class, first grade, to be integrated in all the
South. There were state police with shotguns and rifles in his classroom
everyday of first grade as they bussed in "colored" children who were
also terrified. They called it an experiment but refrained from ever admitting
it was a success or a failure.
From there we went to Ankara, Turkey, for three years with a six year old son
and a daughter a year and a half. While there our family increased for the last
time with a son named Shawn. It was 1967.
In 1968 we headed for Wright Patterson AFB, Dayton, Ohio. We knew what was
coming, in the way of new assignments as the Viet Nam war was kicking up its
heels. What a relief . . . or so we thought at the time when the orders were for
Thailand for a one year remote assignment. The children and I stayed where we
were in Dayton, Ohio, during a long and hard year.
And then, as all things do, it came to an end and we all were off to London,
England for the next four years. It was Uncle Sam's way of saying thank you, one
of the choicest assignments in the Air Force and in all the world for that
matter. We were asked to stay for another three years at the end of our time
there, but with a son ready to graduate high school, it was best for the family
to return stateside.
When the orders came we had absolutely no idea where Kingsley Field AFB, in
Klamath Falls, Oregon, was. In short order I knew a lot about it and the more I
knew the more I liked! Arriving in January amongst more snow and fog imaginable,
it seemed like a mysterious land of Oz. On the east and dry side of the Cascade Mountain
range we were captured by the beauty of water, land and sky.
Retiring from the Air Force four years later we chose to stay and finish raising
our children right there. We'd gone back to Elwood for a school reunion and long
family visit. Moving back after retirement from the military was a serious
consideration, but as so often happens, people go on with their lives as we all
grow in different directions. We returned to Oregon, retired and moved into the mountains
on virgin timberland in a spot known as Keno, Oregon.
Fifteen years later with all three children married, we moved to town, Klamath
Falls. Eventually, after a second retirement (double dipping), we bought an RV
and lived on wheels for the next five years.
I suppose one could say all good things come to an end and so I moved back to
Indiana to be with my mother and other family members. I planned to return to
Oregon and my children in six months to a year. Of course what came next is
history . . . and astoundingly surprising to me.
I always liked the saying, "You plan your life and then life gets in the
way of your plans." Oh, how true it was for me.
I write this from my home on wheels where we choose to live, Marvin and me, my
husband for the last year and a half. You see, right now life is free, no
schedules, no appointments, no obligations. Oh yes, I know it won't last forever
and some say we have no business living like this with my health challenges but
you know what...??? We only go 'round once in this great world and we don't
choose to simply exist but to live, really live! There's a difference. Everyday
there are risks everywhere we turn. None of us should let fear rule our lives
but yet we should get on with the living while we still have the gift of life to
enjoy, as we meet our obligations of helping our brothers and sisters. What goes
around comes around, so give of yourself and be happy in your choices.
We'll always return to our roots and usually it will be in June for Denstock,
one of the most important dates of our year, always the third Saturday in June.
By the way, where does one park a motorhome in Elwood?
Submitted by . . .
JJ aka Julie (Stout)
Crim '57
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