Vintage Illinois 2013

Carol and I belong to WAM wine club. It is the Wine Appreciators and Makers. On Saturday we made our club's third annual trek to Vintage Illinois at Matthiessen State Park near Utica, Illinois. It is a wine event where all wineries in Illinois are invited to participate. You pay $20.00 at the gate and you receive a wine glass and five tasting tickets. Those tickets allow you five one ounce tastings from any of the 29 wineries present this year. You are able to purchase additional tickets, pay cash for full glasses of wine and buy bottles of wine to consume at the event or to take home. In addition to the wine there are bands playing throughout the day. We enjoy the event for several reasons. First, the WAM group is fun. Second, at least so far, every year the weather has been perfect. Third, the crowd is generally older and calmer. Finally, the bands are really good. It also saves you driving all over Illinois to sample wines from the various vendors.

This is our group. The orange shirts proved to be a good decision. As the crowd got bigger and the grounds more congested we were able to find our way back to the group regardless of our level of intoxication.

 Wally Mulso was the opening act on the stage. I must admit a certain weakness for an individual preformer on a stage. It tells me a couple of things. One that you are fearless or at least able to fight through your fear and two that you are good at what you do or insane. Wally was good and funny.

He was followed by a group called Midnight Shade. Another very good group. The saxaphone player was quite talented.

The third group performing for the 11th year at this festival was the Steve Sharp Band. Some very entertaining good old rock and roll.

While the Steve Sharp Band was playing Carol sent me to the Shawnee Winery tent to buy a couple of bottles of wine to take home. When I got back the majority of our group had decided to go up and dance with another group. The other group in an interesting play on words were called Girls Gone Wine.

They are in the bright red shirts.

The final musical group of the day was Lynne Jordan and the Shivers. Another very talented group.

If you are looking for recommendations on wines I will not recommend individual wines but provide you with a couple of excellent Illinois wineries.

Wild Blosson Meadery and Winery
10033 S. Western Ave.
Chicago, Illinois 60643
773-233-7579
www.wildblossomwines.com

At the other end of Illinois.

Shawnee Winery
200 Commercial Street
Vienna, Illinois 62995
618-658-8400
www.shawneewinery.com

When we were done at the festival it was off to our nest traditional stop.

We go and stand in line for at least an hour to enjoy some of the finest Cajun food in the midwest prepared by Cajun Ron. He is a character. He came outside while we were waiting to apologize for the long wait. As he did more people got in line so he said: "Oh, hell! I gotta get back in there cookn." My selection for the evening meal was blackened catfish with red beans and rice with a Dixie Brewing beer called Blackened Voodoo. Cajun Ron never disappoints.

It was off to the hotel to relax for a few minutes and let the evenings meal settle. Our next traditional stop is a Mexican joint called Mi Margarita. Yes, dear reader, it was time to switch beverages again. So for the day it was wine, mead, beer and tequila. We all bellied up to the bar and started in on some great margaritas. One of the waitresses, a young lady in her 20's commented that her friends were at the wine festival and had been since 4 PM. She said they were hammered. We advised her we had been going at it since 11AM. Kids like her need to understand that alcohol consumption is a marathon not a sprint.

So mark your calendars. Vintage Illinois will be held at Matthiessen State Park on September 20 and 21, 2014. Come on out early, get a good spot in the shade near the stage, listen to some good music, drink some of Illinois' finest wines with 5,000 or so of your best friends. It is a mellow adult crowd, not a rowdy drunk fest. Hope to see you there. Any time you are in the area go see Cajun Ron.

Audrey Layne Sutor

I have done several posts recently about family members and today I am going to write about a little girl with the kindest heart.

This is Audrey and yesterday we celebrated her seventh birthday with a party at our house. She was the perfect young lady. She wanted to pass out cake and ice cream to all her guests. She opened her presents later and then with no coaxing from her parents went to each person and thanked them for coming to her party and for the gift they gave her.

Audrey reminds me of John when he was that age. He appeared to be a bit shy when in truth he wasn't. He was standing back watching things and figuring out who was who and how they acted before he got involved in what was going on. Audrey has that same trait. She watches and then gets involved. She is shy but there is nothing wrong with that. She likes to teach and take care of others. I don't know what she will be when she grows up but I know she would be an excellent teacher if she wants to do that job. For now all I think she needs to be is the sweet, kind hearted girl she is. The one who likes school and dance class and tumbling. The one who will still sit on her Papa's lap and watch TV, or sit at the kitchen table and play Uno. Sometimes she tries to play teacher with Papa but he is a bad student.

 

So Miss Audrey, take your time growing up. Have fun. Enjoy school and dance and tumbling. Play with your sisters, love the best mom and dad a little girl could hope for. Growing up will happen soon enough. No need to rush.



Nicholas Albert Porter

Today we continue the saga of my biological family. Nicholas Albert Porter is my Grandmother Dora Louise Porter's father. So my maternal great grandfather. Nicholas Albert Porter, or as he most often was referred to Albert, was born on June 9, 1879 in Buckheart Township, Fulton County, Illinois. The most notable towns in Buckheart Township are St. David and Bryant. Being the late 19th century it is safe to assume he was born at home on a farm. He was the eldest son of Allen Brooks Porter and Louisa Barclay Porter. My great aunt Harriet advises me he had a brother but thus far my reseach has not born this out. His parents are both dead by 1882 when young Albert was three years of age. They both succumbed to TB at the ages of 30 for Allen and 29 for Louisa. Young Albert is sent off to live his youth with two spinster Aunts. He appears in the 1880 United States Census as living in Putnam Township, Fulton County, Illinois with his parents. His age is listed as one and his parents are both 27.

The next record of Albert Porter is the census of 1900. He is a "roomer" in ward 5 Peoria, Illinois. His listed occupation is "student". He is 21 years of age at the time and I have no information as to what he might have been studying. He is living with William Ramsey, age 57, Emma Ramsey, age 53, Mattie Ramsey, age 29, Cosette Ramsey age 26 and George Ramsey age 21. At this time I cannot tell you if the Ramsey's are relatives or not. They have not come up so far in my research other than this census notation.

Albert met and married Grace Mae Freeman in 1910. Grace was 16 at the time and Albert was 31. The story of their meeting and courtship is lost to the sands of time. They were married in Palmyra, Marion County, Missouri. It apparently was a popular destination at the time. It also allowed this couple to get married an act that likely was illegal in Illinois at the time due to Grace's age. He registers for the draft in 1918 and lists his employer as Big Creek Coal Company of St. David, Illinois

The 1920 census shows the couple living in Buckheart Township, Fulton County, Illinois and the parents of four children. William Brooks Porter, Dora Louise Porter, Hilda Ruth Porter and Harry Albert Porter. They are in age range from 8 to 2 years of age. Albert is working in the Fulton County coal mines as a miner. He worked as a laborer is the shaft or dug mines in the hillsides. It was dangerous and dirty work.

The 1930 census shows the family has moved to Putnam Township, Fulton County, Illinois and there are now more children. By this time my biological grandmother Dora is married and has left home. The additional children are Margret C.Porter, Geraldine M. Porter, Harriet A. Porter, David F. Porter and Kermit E. Porter. There would be one additional daughter born in the early 1930 Wanda Porter. The depression has struck and Albert lists his occupation as "teamster" and that he does "odd jobs". In talking to Harriet apparently the teamster work was bootlegging and the odd jobs were delivering alcoholic beverages during prohibition. Albert by this time has become an alcoholic and is from time to time caught bootlegging and goes to jail. It is during one of those stints in jail in 1928 or 1929 he meets my biological grandfather John and they partner up in the bootlegging business. It appears that the activity was limited to the Cuba, Illinois area. Some of their customers were city officials who would, of course, deny any involvement with them when they were caught.

Sometime in the mid 1930's Albert goes off to jail again. Grace faced with the daunting task of caring for the seven or so minor children at home cannot handle the pressure. She ends up with a boyfriend. The family unit disintegrates. Some of the children are sent to Cunningham Childrens Home in Champaign/Urbana, Illinois. Wanda is sold by Grace to a family in Peoria. Times were tough and Grace needed income. The end result is that Albert and Grace divorce and the minor children are scattered like chaff in the wind. I will be telling their stories in future posts. Let's revisit Dora for a moment. You might reasonably ask why her family didn't assist her when her children were taken. It appears that this incident between Albert and Grace happened around the same time that Dora suffered from post partum depression and John signed away their children. As you can see her parents were in no position to help her.

Albert registers for the draft in 1942 and lists his address as Lewistown, Fulton County, Illinois. He is unemployed at the time according to his registration.

He died on March 17, 1952 in Canton, Stark County, Ohio.

So there is the story of Nicholas Albert Porter as I can tell it at this time. Orphaned at age 3, working as a coal miner in the prime working years of his life. Turning to bootlegging and alcoholism during the late 1920's and 30's. Yet according to his surviving daughter a loving father who did his best to provide for them in difficult times. She spoke of him kindly and didn't seem to hold any ill will about the family's breakup. Harriet's story is an amazing one and I look forward to telling you about her in the near future.

Pictures- You can't take pictures

As you regular readers know from time to time I am able to look out the front or back doors of our house out here in BFE and take pictures of the local wildlife. Deer, turkeys, geese, crows, coyotes, raccoons, opossum, skunks, well just a little bit of everything wanders by from time to time.

Pictures like this one taken last March of some turkeys wandering across the yard out near the road.

Teddy and Lily can be sound asleep now until they hear the sound of my digital camera starting up. When it does they think there is an animal outside I want to photograph. Last week I wanted to take a picture of them sleeping on the couch. Carol and I couldn't sit there because there was no room after they sprawled out. The noise my camera makes when it starts up causes this reaction.

 

This is my first attempt to upload a video and clearly it is an epic failure. So in your head just imagine chaotic barking and running around. Being a pet owner does require you to learn how to manipulate your four legged friends behavior to your advantage. There are times that Teddy and Lily don't want to go outside. Since the camera noise makes them think an animal is out there to chase I just turn the camera on and they run out the door barking and looking for the critter. Problem getting them to go out. Problem now easily solved. Look for an opportunity to use anything and everything to your advantage. That is today's lesson. 

 

 

I Miss America

Yesterday a new Miss America was crowned. Her name is Nina Davuluri. She is the first Indian-American to win the title. Her parents imigrated from India to America 30 years ago. Nina is 24 years old so she is an American citizen by birth. She was born in Syracuse, New York and has lived in Oklahoma and Michigan. Her father is a gynecologist and her father's siblings are also doctors in the United States. Nina attended theUniversity of Michigan and won several academic awards including Dean's List, Michigan Merit Award, National Honor Society and graduated with a degree in Brain Behavior and Cognitive Science. She would like to be a doctor and has applied to medical school.

So she seems like a wonderful young woman. The kind of young lady that we would  all like our daughters to be. She honored her Indian heritage by performing an Indian classical-Bollywood fusion dance for the talent portion of the competition. Most Americans were impressed, except those few who saw it as an alQaeda terrorist voodoo dance.

The postings on social media said things like: "I'm literally soo mad now a ARAB won #MissAmerica." and "Only reason she won is bc her people said they would lower gas prices." I guess those two need to consult a map and study up on how gas prices are set. Others who chose to criticize at least realized that India was not in the Middle East. They managed comments like: "THIS AIN'T RCKIN ASIA" and "Wow. Miss America is a damn dot head." and finally "Our new Miss America is a damn dot head...go back to 711 and make me a slurpee."

Todd Starnes, a reporter for Fox News  described what the real America is like. "The liberal Miss America judges won't say this- but Miss Kansas lost because she actially represented American values." and this gem: "Miss Kansas, a gun-toting, deer-hunting, military veteran was America's choice- but not the liberal Miss America judges' choice."

Miss Bavuluri responded with something along the lines of it wasn't her concern she was just going to work on being the best Miss America she could be. Well said young lady, well said indeed.

I miss America. An America who lives up to the words inscribed on the Statue of Liberty.

     Give me your tired, your poor,
     Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free,
     The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
     Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
     I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

I miss the days before social media where people could just be ignorant with their ignorant friends. An America where the racist comments of a few idiots were not broadcast to the world over social media.

We claim to want diversity until it happens and then too many Americans complain about how the country isn't the one they grew up in. Maybe the America I remember or desire is just a fantasy. A dream where truly all people are created equal, where they are judge by the content of their character and not the color of their skin. Clearly we are not there yet. I continue to have hope we will someday.

John Prine

I have been fortunate over the years to have the opportunity to see performances by individuals or groups that I follow. George Carlin, Z Z Top, Aerosmith, Lewis Black, to name some of them. Friday night was a chance to add another classic performer to my list.

I have been a fan of John Prine for a long time. Probably in the neighborhood of 40 years. John is a native of Illinois born in Maywood on October 10, 1946. He served in the United States armed forces and following that he worked as a mailman in Chicago. He was initially a spectator at open mic night at the Fifth Peg in Chicago until another performer challenged him with "So you think you can do better?" Chicago Sun Times movie critic Roger Ebert heard him there and gave him his first review. Ebert called him a great songwriter.

Maybe the reason I have always liked John is because his songs have a dark side. He once said, "I've always thought that things can only get so dark, before they get funny.... There's humor in everything for me." His song "That's the Way the World Goes 'Round" contains lyrics like these.

     Beats his old lady with a rubber hose,
     Then he takes her out to dinner,
     Buys her new clothes,
     That's the way that the world goes 'round

The chorus is this.

     That's the way that the world goes 'round
     You're up one day, the next you're down
     It's a half an inch of water and you think you're going to drown,
     That's the way that the world goes 'round.

We all have ups and downs in life but all too often the highs don't make up for the lows. Buying presents for someone does not make up for abusing them. Sometimes things turn out alright but Prine is reminding us that sometimes they don't. Even when they do the redemption doesn't make up for the pain. We shouldn't pretend that it does.

John performed with a band on Friday night for part of the show. The part of the show that was special to me was when he performed acoustically by himself. Just a man on the stage singing the songs he wrote and telling you the stories about where they originated.

Please go to youtube and watch the video of That's the Way That the World Goes 'Round posted by yukonactor. It runs 7:41 and will be worth the whole time. The other song I would like you to listen to or watch on youtube is Grandpa Was a Carpenter. It is John's tribute to his grandfather and reminds me of my grandfather. He was a farmer but when I watched him work as a boy I thought he could build anything. When I got older I realized he could.

If you get the chance go see John. Go see any performer you enjoy. The live shows are so much better and it will be a memory you will carry the rest of your life.

Hate

There are things in life that I cannot understand. I have tried and the understanding is just beyond my ability. Twelve years ago today four airplanes were hijacked by terrorist. Over 3000 people lost their lives as a result of those terrorists desire to harm America. I remember where I was when I understood what was happening was not an accident. Prison was an odd place to be that day. It is normally a noisy and somewhat chaotic place. Not that day. By 9:00 or shortly after we were completely lockdown. No inmates were allowed out of their cells and staff were doing all the work normally assigned to them. I ended up working in the kitchen helping get meals out to the inmate population and staff. We were so busy we had no time to think or talk about what was happening in the outside world. It was in a way a relief. In another way it was a curse. When I got home I watched hours of news coverage knowing that much of what we heard that day would be wrong. There was lots of conjecture and very little verified fact. There are some things that happened as a result that are unfortunate results of the attacks that day.

There has been too much made out of the fact that the terrorists were Muslims. In the same way that not all Christians are members of Westboro Baptist Church not all Muslims are terrorists. We, as a country, have allowed too many of our fellow citizens to paint all Muslims with the same brush. Terrorist come from many different religious and ethnic groups. They are not all Muslims. Remember Timothy McVeigh? Sometimes they are just evil stupid people.

We passed the Patriot Act. It was an attempt to make it easier to find terrorists. We have, through it, allowed our government to spy on us. They have taken it to access telephone records, email communications and internet usage and truth be told I am certain much much more. We have given up some of our fundamental freedoms to have the illusion of increased security. The government doesn't want to give up these programs because they claim they are keeping us safe. I respectfully disagree. I don't want to trade freedom for security.

We have fought wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Those wars have cost us a minimum of 4 trillion dollars. We have also made drone attacks or battled in several other countries to kill terrorists. We are threatening to get involved in the civil war in Syria. We want so badly to avoid another attack here that we are willing to fight anywhere else to prevent it. The loss of their citizens, innocent bystanders and non combatants are just collateral damage. Doesn't matter they aren't Americans. It does matter and it makes us as wrong as those who attacked and killed our innocents. The unfortunate truth is that those who hold beliefs that there way is the only way cannot participate in meaningful negotiations. Those who do not agree with them are not to be trusted. They are not worthy of life. Our god demands they convert or die. It doesn't matter if the believer is Christian or Jew or Muslim. To the fundamentalist if you do not believe what I do then you have no place in the hereafter and are worthy of hell and punishment.

So I don't hate Muslims because we were attached by fundamentalist idiots who held a perverted version of that religion as theirs. I hate the terrorists for what we became after their attack. I hate the Christians who cannot see that religion is about love and kindness, about judging the act and not the person. Holding individuals responsible for their actions and not blaming a group. Those who hold fundamentalist beliefs are a danger no matter what religious group they are in. They world is a glorious kaleidoscope of color and diversity. Only the simple and small minded must see it as black and white because they cannot comprehend its complex majesity. That has been the true damage caused by the attacks 12 years ago today.

His Name was John

I have struggled with how to approach this blog entry and you will have to bear with me as it is a work in progress even now. As you know if you are a regular reader I have decided to research and share the findings on my father's birth family. The person who seems to be almost exclusively blamed for every bad thing that happened was his father. So here we go dear readers.

My father's name was John and his father's name was John. At this point I am not going to share his last name. It just wouldn't be fair. The information I have gotten about him as a person is all from my biological grandmother's family. They had plenty of reasons not to like him and as far as I can tell no reason to say anything good about him. I have worked with lots of "bad" people over the course of my career with the Illinois Department of Corrections. Even the worst people I met weren't evil all the time. They had moments where they did horrible things but those weren't the only moments of their lives. John had those moments as well. There is no one I have to tell me any of his better moments yet. I will hopefully find someone.

John was born in Bernadotte, Illinois on January 29, 1907 to George and Neva, the third or their nine children. Bernadotte is an unicorporated community along the Spoon River in Fulton County. It is located at the Northeast corner of the old U.S. Army Camp Ellis. It is the location of the only dam on the Spoon River. Bernadotte was once considered as the site for the capitol of Illinois prior to the capitol being located at Vandalia in 1820. Vandalia was selected by a margin of one vote in the state legislature. The town was razed in the 1940's with the exception of one building to become part of the Camp Ellis prisoner of war camp during WWII. It appears from census records that John grew up in Fulton County. In the 1910 census records he is three years of age and residing with his parents in Bernadotte. In the 1920 census he is listed as being 12 years of age and resides with his parents in Putnam Township, Illinois again in Fulton, County. The only city, town or village listed for Putnam Township is Cuba, Illinois. So it appears that John and his family lived in a rural area.

John, according to Dora's family met Dora's father Nicholas while they were both in jail most likely in Fulton or Peoria County. I personally would lean toward Peoria County since the family business at that time was bootlegging. The year was 1928. Prohibition went into effect on January 20, 1920 and ended with the repeal of the 18th amendment on December 5, 1933. Apparently John and Nicholas were released at the same time and John came to live with the family in late 1927 or early 1928 as the age of about 20. He and Dora were pushed together by her parents and married in 1928 just after her 15th birthday. A review of census records from 1930 does not reveal any records for John or Dora or for that matter for my father who was born in 1929. The family indicates that at that time John sent the family to live in rural Iowa we think in the Prescott area. They lived in a very rural area. John went ahead and from what we can glean from the family found them a "shack" to live in with no running water but a stream nearby. When things were somewhat settled Dora's father or father in law put her and my Dad on the train. Dora related the story that my Dad fell asleep in her arms on the train. The conductor came by and gave her a pillow. He stood there waiting and when she determined he wanted a tip she took my Dad off the pillow and gave it back to the conductor. She had no money to give him a tip. It appears that while Dora and my father were in Iowa John would travel back and forth to Peoria, Illinois to participate in various activities which allegedly involved bootlegging and prostitution. Peoria could be a rough place in the 1920's and 30's. John apparently made enough trips to Iowa to father two more children there with Dora. Dad's sister Barbara and brother James were born there sometime prior to 1933. Dora related the story several times that while they were in Iowa living in the middle of nowhere a young couple stopped by and asked for a drink of water. The couple, she believed were Bonnie and Clyde. It is impossible to prove or disprove. The one thing that can be said is that during the period Dora and my father were in Iowa Bonnie and Clyde were in Iowa for a time. They were known to avoid populated areas in an effort to avoid the law. So the story is possible.

Dora and the three children return to Illinois sometime prior to 1935 when the last child Judith is born to Dora and John in Peoria at the hospital. Dora suffers from post partum depression and John is unable to cope with four children one being a newborn. The family indicates that he was able to get Dora to sign away her parental rights with a bit of trickery and he signed his away. Judith appears to have lived with his "girlfriend" while Dora was recovering. The children were eventually adopted in the mid 1930's. The most recent census data available that contains personal information is the 1940 census. Those of you who do not review ancestry records the law requires census records to be held for 72 years prior to release. The 1950 census will be released in 2022. The 1940 census shows John living in Peoria with his new wife Mae and a seven month old daughter named Gladys. In a bit of what may be irony or scarasm John lists his occupation as "policeman". It is the depression and Peoria. There are no merit commissions to regulate hiring so maybe he told the truth. It will require additional research. In 1940 John is 33 and his wife is 20. I have tried to find any additional records on his wife and daughter but they have thus far disappeared into the mists of time.

The next time we have any record of John he is dead. He died in Cuba, Illinois in January 1990. The only other story I can relate comes from my family. The one that adopted my Dad. John apparently knew where the children he and Dora had were located. He made one trip to Wataga to the Knotty Pine Tavern in the early 1940's. He appears to have made no attempt to see the kids and was in the area making inquiries about them. My grandmother Byrdis had very strong feelings about adoptive children contacting biological parents. It would not surprise me if she had not required my Grandfather contact the adoption caseworker and advise that John never do that again. There is no family story passed along that happened or that John ever was in the area again.

So, John appears to be somewhat of a trouble maker. Was everything he did bad? Probably not. Remember that everything I know about him comes from people who have an interest in him being the bad guy. You will get updates as I am able to find additional information.

First Friday

In a recent blog I ranted about how poorly Galesburg compared to Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. Today I want to praise Galesburg for at least getting one thing right. On the first Friday of each month from May to September they close off South Seminary street from Main to Simmons and have a bit of a party. This is the view from the north side of Main looking toward south Seminary street.

The restaurants and shops on Seminary Street are open and they get a fair amount of additional traffic. There is always a live band playing and often they get pretty good groups. The entertainment this time was Jera and the Absolutes.



Jera and the Absolutes are a rock and roll band who most often cover songs from the 70's to the 90's. I will admit to enjoying bands with female lead singers. Groups who owe their success to Joan Jett and Leta Ford, The Bangles and groups similiar to them. Didn't we all at one point or another want to walk like an Egyptian. We all know that Cindy Lauper was right and girls just want to have fun.

 

Just past the band they had set up a super sized Jenga game. The game used pieces of 2 x 4 lumber sanded smooth about 10 inches long. The game drew a fair number of voyeurs interested to see how the kids did with the game. I will be honest, they were young about 20 or so years old but given my advanced age any more kid refers to anyone under 50. I'm not so sure the game was as exciting as these kids were trying to make it. The competition was fierce and vocal taunting was allowed. 

The young fella to the left was the eventual loser. The young man barely in the frame was the winner. I must give him credit, he worked quickly making his decision and not hesitating when he pulled out a piece.

No game is complete without a woman trying to tell the men what to do. The good news is that she was trying to direct both of them so there was no way she could lose.

The crash and burn. Maybe they should try that to add another level of excitement to the game. Flaming Jenga. It will probably never happen, my idea for a high voltage version of Operation never caught on with any of the toy companies.

There was a vendor in front of one of the shops trying to sell these unique looking musical instruments. They would have to be a decorative item for me as I have zero musical ability. They tried to teach me in junior high school but my inability to determine if a note was higher or lower than the previous one and my refusal to practice made my participation in band short lived.

The group this month manning the area was Carl Sandburg College. They had various groups of students out honing their skills. I agreed to allow a couple of the nursing students to take my blood pressure. It was somewhat higher than it should be and they expressed concern. I responded with my usual comment that as long as I had blood pressure I was okay. High might be a concern but no blood pressure was a far more serious issue. I was above none so I figured I was good. They also had students there from cosmotology, paramedic and dental programs. I didn't want the full treatment so I stopped with a blood pressure check.

So Galesburg, in your battle to win tourists and get people downtown, not a bad attempt. It is clear that one Friday a month will not be a game changer. So think of things for the other three Fridays. Maybe a special deal on Saturday morning now and then. Perhaps something outside of Spring and Summer.

The best part of the experience was that a cold beer at Budde's was just a short block away. I could drink my blood pressure down or at least go until I forget it was high.

They Are KILLERS

Lily and Teddy have turned into killers. Don't be fooled by the innocent appearance of these two ruffians.

Sweet, innocent Lily?

Calm, Happy, Loving Teddy?

Don't let those sweet, innocent looking faces fool you. Inside beats the hearts of natural born killers. Just ask this guy.

One minute you're down in your burrow looking for a breakfast of grubs. Next thing you know some crazy bitch has you in her mouth, dragged you up into blinding sunlight and is jumping on you and tossing you around like a rag doll. Note Lily's ears flying outward as she is caught in mid strike.

Teddy joins in on the action. As Lily rolls him back out of the hole Teddy grabs him and takes him out in the yard making escape from death impossible.

Teddy watches as Lily uses her paws to tenderize Mr. Mole.

The current score is Teddy and Lily 3, Moles lots of tunnels but 0.

Teddy and Lily have caught on that when I grab my camera and go to the door there is something in the yard that I want to capture on camera. This was my target last night.

It is a young fawn grazing behind their pen. I took this one picture then they started barking and jumping at the door.

If you look closely you will note there are two fawns running away. I didn't see the other one until the killers started barking and scared them off. They are probably the pair that has been hanging around all summer.

So, Lily and Teddy, sweet and innocent? Maybe if you walk on two legs. If you are on four you had better watch out.

Easter Sunday, New York City, 1949

Well, I promised you the stories of my family and this is one of them. It is the story of how I ended up being me. Sorry kids, not the story of my conception, that wouldn't happen until 1953. It was the day my Mom and Dad met. It is an unlikely story of time and chance. How sometimes things happen and like ripples alter the surface of a pond, chance meetings change lives.

Mom is from Waterford, Connecticut a small town just to the west of New London. Mom worked at a plant packing olives into jars. You know those pretty jars where all the olives point the same direction around the outside so you can see the stuffing. You didn't think that happened by accident, did you? She told me she hadn't moved up to stuffing Marciano cherries in a jar. That was the other product at the plant. She had a long weekend because of the Easter holiday. A friend from high school named Jane Seymore invited her to come visit her in Havre de Grace, Maryland. No, it wasn't THAT Jane Seymore. Miss Seymore's father worked for the government as a manager of public housing. He had been transferred from Connecticut to Maryland and was taking care of things at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Mom boarded the Greyhound bus in New London and made the trip south for a long weekend. They went down to Washington, D.C. to see the sights and tour the National Cathedral which was under construction. The construction began on September 29, 1907 when the foundation stone was laid in the presence of President Theodore Roosevelt. Construction ended in 1990 when the final finial was placed in the presence of President George H. W. Bush. That concludes today's history lesson. Easter Sunday and coincidentally my Mother's birthday, she boards the bus headed back to New London. The trip in both directions requires a connection at the bus terminal in New York City. There was so much traffic that Mom missed her connecting bus in New York City.

Dad had enlisted in the United States Navy and having completed basic training was sent to New London to attend submarine school. He was granted a weekend leave and had gone to New York City on the train. He had purchased a one way ticket. One at this point would reasonably ask why? There is normally a financial benefit to buying a round trip ticket. It was a good thing for me that he did not. Being a sailor in New York City he had enjoyed the sights and sounds of the Big Apple too much and did not have enough money left to buy a train ticket. I asked Mom if they had talked at all at the bus station and she said no. He was behind her in line to get on the bus and helped her with her suitcase. It was a busy day for bus travel and the only seats left were in the back. They ended up sitting next to each other. She said that Dad talked all the way back and she was sitting there wondering if he would ever shut up. The bus would travel through Waterford on the way to the bus station in New London. Since it would go up the Boston Post Road on the way, it would go right by her parent's house where she was living. She  asked the driver if he would let her off there and he did so. Dad had not asked her for a date and she thought that was the end of the story. He was just a chatty sailor on a bus. He had asked her about her family and remembered her father's name. Armed with that information and knowing her address from the conversation with the bus driver he found her phone number in the telephone book. He called the next weekend and asked her out to see a movie. She can't remember which movie they saw or even which theater.

They started dating after that and eventually Dad flunked out of submarine school. It was a physical thing. The air pressure in a submarine varies widely as the submarine dives and surfaces. My Father was unable to get his ears to "pop" to relieve the pressure. He was transferred to Newport, Rhode Island and placed on a destroyer crew. The first tour out they went to Newfoundland and Cuba. He and Mom continued to see each other when he was able to get back down to Connecticut. He made another tour of duty through the Mediterranean and when he returned told Mom he didn't want to go on another tour without being married to her.

So that is the story. Time and chance. If the traffic is lighter Mom makes her connecting bus and he is on the next one. No meeting. If he buys a round trip train ticket they don't meet. If she is not directly ahead of him in the line to get on the bus they don't sit together. If he forgets her father's name, where she lives, or other vital details, no meeting. If they don't meet, no Jeff. Chance, Fate, the Invisible hand of God? You can draw your own conclusion. I'm just a happy result of a coincidential meeting of a midwestern farm boy in submarine school out east and an olive packer on holiday visiting her high school friend. Thanks Greyhound!!!!!!!

Maid in America?

Buying products made in the United States is important to me. I want things that are made by the fellow down the road, in my area, in Illinois, oh hell just anywhere here in the USA. The title today is my way of poking a little fun at those folks who say we are turning into a service economy. We can't make our economy work by cleaning each other's houses or selling each other the crap they try to pass off as a hamburger at McDonalds. We need to build things. We need to take iron ore out of the ground and make it into steel. The steel that goes into our cars, trains, bridges, boats, tanks, and hundreds of other items. We need to forge aluminum for our airplanes and boats and cars and what the hell, our beer cans. We need to build computers and telephones and make computer chips. The American worker is still the best and most productive worker on the planet. The American worker is not the cheapest. Quality costs money. Manufacturers should be willing to pay for the quality American workers produce. I watch the show Shark Tank. I have listened too many times while they tell someone looking for a partner they need to move production overseas to reduce the cost of manfacturing. They have no intent on reducing the price of the finished product just attempting to maximize their profit. My contention is that if you don't pay workers here to produce the item they won't have the money to buy it when you put it on the market.

The price of made in China is more than just the price of the item. When something is manufactured here it creates a ripple effect. The folks at the factory making the item have money to spend at the local store or bar or restaurant. They buy cars and furniture and homes. The more of those things that are made here the more of that money is cycled through our economy.

So some time this week, look at the tag or the box and see where it was made. If you can find a product made in America buy it instead of the one made somewhere else. Go to the Farmer's Market and buy produce from the local guy. Visit a small business instead of the big box store. Build your local community. It will be better for everyone.

Drones or Poison Gas

I am going to make a brief observation regarding our possible involvement in Syria and our moral standing in the world. According to the President and some high ranking members of the United States Senate our drone strikes in the Middle East have resulted in the deaths of 22 al Qaeda leaders. They have also resulted in an additional 4,700 deaths over the past 10 years. Many of those killed were, to borrow a phrase from Secretary of State John Kerry, "innocent civilians, women and children." The gas attack alleged to have been carried out by the Syrian government killed an estimated 1,400 civilians including women and children. The argument being made is that the gas is an indiscriminate attack on a civilian population. Well, that makes me feel so much better about drone attacks. They are not indiscriminate, we know when we shoot the Hellfire missile that innocent civilians, women and children will be killed. At least we didn't make them suffer the outrages of a death by leathal gas, we incinerated them instead. Much better way to go. Would you agree Mr. Kerry and Mr. Obama?

In case you are curious about cruise missiles be aware of the following. The cruise missiles that will most likely be used against Syria cost approximately 1.5 million dollars each. When we used them against Lybia it was approximately 250 missiles at a cost of about 400 million dollars. The money will have to come from somewhere to pay for this action if it is taken. What programs will suffer. The military is hungry and demands to be fed. Will we lose more social programs? Early childhood education? Veterans health care cuts? Food safety inspections? Boarder agents? TSA cuts?

So there are a couple of things to think about.

Dora Louise Porter

Last week I told you that we were going on a journey of discovery. My father was adopted and I was going to find out as much as I could about his birth family. Well, today is the first installment of that series.

Dora Louise Porter was my father's birth mother. The name I use here is her maiden name. She was the second child of ten born to Nicholas Albert Porter and Grace Mae "Gracie" Freeman Porter. She was born on May 20, 1913 in Bryant, Illinois. I have lived my entire life in the Galesburg, Illinois area and honestly don't ever recall hearing of Bryant. It is located in Fulton County just south of Canton. This is the earliest picture I have of Dora.

Dora is the young lady on the left. Her older brother Brooks is on the right and her younger sister Ruth is standing in the center. Sometime later this month I am going to visit one of her sisters and will try to fill in the blanks on life in Fulton County in the early 20th century. The picture above was taken in 1918 when Dora was 5 years old. According to the 1920 census she is living in Buckheart, Illinois. Again we are in Fulton County a short 3 mile dive from Bryant.

Dora was married in 1928 at the tender age of 15 and gave birth to my father before her 16th birthday. Her husband was an old man at age 21 when they were married and when my father was born. It was a different time. I am withholding information regarding his name and circumstances while I do additional research. You will get the story when I can make sense of it in my head.

The next picture is of Dora in 1935. She is 22 when this picture is taken and by that time a mother of three or four children.

I must say she is an attactive young woman in this picture. Life would shortly prove to be cruel. After the birth of her fourth child she suffered from what was most likely post partum depression. She was institutionalized for a time. Her husband was unable to effectively parent 4 children with the oldest being six or seven at the time. They were placed in an orphanage and eventually adopted by two loving couples. The oldest, my father John and the youngest, my Aunt Sally known to them as Judith were adopted by the Sutor's. James and Barbara were adopted by a couple in the Chicago area. It is my understanding that Dora was disraught by the loss of her children. She and their father divorced and she attempted to find them. She had no luck and went to the point of consulting psychics. One told her that before she died she would be reunited with her children. The picture below was taken in the mid 1990's.

The four siblings are reunited with their mother. From left to right. Barbara, John, James, and Judith. Dora is seated in front of them. My father would be about 67 years old in this picture. It had been approximately 60 years since he had seen his mother. Dora and her second husband George Galloway lived in another small Fulton County Illinois community called Glasford. In the group of pictures we were given by one of her sisters was this picture.

Those three handsome young men are the Sutor brothers. My younger brother David on the left, my older brother John on the right. I am the smiling face in the center sporting the bow tie. I remember the pictuce well. The leather jackets we are wearing in the picture were given to us by our Grandmother and Grandfather Sutor following a trip they made to South America. The jackets to the best of my recollection were from Argentina. I believe they are still around and hiding in a closet at Mom's. The brick house in the background is the house where I grew up. The picture was taken in front of my grandparents house. The year 1959. The picture was accompanied by a letter from my Aunt Sally (Judith) to her mother Dora. It is postmarked December 20, 1959 Chicago, Illinois. At that time I am 5 years old. I have no idea my father is adopted. It wouldn't have mattered since at that age I had no idea what adoption meant. The letter explains to my birth grandmother who we are and what our names are. She lives about 50 miles away. I would not meet her until I was in my mid 40's. So Dora knows we exist, that her oldest child is alive and doing okay but she cannot contact any of us. A short car drive away and yet for almost 40 years we may as well have lived on the moon. I can't imagine how it must have eaten away at her. The torment of something so close to your heart emotionally and so close to you physically, yet completely out of reach. Never able to share in the accomplishments of your son or grandsons. No letters or phone calls. It would as if you were adrift in the ocean. Water everywhere you look but none to satisfy your thirst. She would see her nieces and nephews, other children in the neighborhood or walking to school or waiting on the bus. Her children and grandchildren out of reach. She would be married to George Galloway for over 50 years. He was her second husband. There would be no children from that union. I cannot imagine her suffering. I could not have stood under the weight of it.

So that is the part of Dora's story I can pass along today. A story of loss and reunification. A story of pain and joy. There will be more stories to come. This is the one that hurts the most. The one that can wake me up at night. The one that is full of what if's. Take a minute and think about how different your life could have been. If only....????