Depression

This is one of those days that I cannot get going. I don't have enough energy to brush my teeth or change out of my pajamas. I feel a dark blanket over my soul.
There is something wrong with me. Why would children turn against a parent? Why would a brother turn against a sister? Am I so bad that I cannot be forgiven for ANYTHING?
I don't feel worthy of friends. I have turned my back on friends - afraid that they will see this terrible flaw in me. That they will hate me also.
I've gone to my Bishop and found innocent of charges, but if this is true, why do people still feel I am guilty?
I wish I could cry. I can't even do that any more.
I stay in this pain because leaving is a sin. I will not put any more burden on my husband or the children who still love me. Or my sister. I see the pain that Jim caused his family and I will not do that to those who still love me. But why do they love me?
Nothing I have ever done is important. Nothing I do is right.
My life is a blackened hole into which I am falling.

First Apartment

For a wedding present, Bruce's folks paid our first months rent on an apartment. It was a half block off Main Street in Union City, MI. It was in an older house which had been divided into 4 apartments - 2 downstairs and 2 upstairs. Our apartment was on the upper floor.
When we first saw it, we were shocked. It had furniture, but it was not exactly clean. We had to scrub food off the sides of the table. But it was ours! Our first home.
When we moved in, it was winter. Since it was an upstairs apartment, it stayed pretty warm. We didn't pay utilities there - just rent. The rent was a whopping $75.00 a month. Our apartment had a small kitchen, a small living room, a tiny bathroom with a short claw foot tub - no shower (Bruce was a hoot in the bathtub trying to get his 6'3" crammed in there!), a small bedroom and an even smaller half-bedroom. I had never heard of a half-bedroom before, but that's how it was described to us. I think it was actually a closet with enough space to put a crib in.
We didn't even own a television, just a stereo. We played chess quite a bit, too. We finally got a television when Bruce got a job at Haas's plastics factory.
I got pregnant and found out in the early spring. I was thrilled - Bruce was not. We didn't have any insurance and because we owned a car, we couldn't get any state help. As I got bigger, the weather got warmer. Warm weather brought all kinds of surprises. The most startling surprise was cockroaches! I swear a couple of them challenged me to a fight over food. Those stupid things were huge. They stayed out of sight in the daytime, but at night when the lights were out, they came out. You could hear them on the linoleum. The worst part was walking into a dark room, turning on the light and having those nasty bugs scatter!
When we moved in, living upstairs had been a blessing because heat rises. In the summer time, it's not so much fun. We had a small oscillating fan to keep us cool. Well, it stirred the hot, humid air a bit. That summer we had temperatures over 100 degrees for a week. I thought I would die!
One day we had a bad thunder storm. I was laying down for a nap when the wind started blowing. The house swayed! Lightening crashed all around, the wind whipped the trees and the thunder sounded like it was in the room with me. I honestly thought the house was going to be torn apart.
We finally had enough money to move. We moved from one upstairs apartment in Union City to another upstairs apartment in Athens.
I'll always be grateful for our first little apartment. It wasn't much, but it was ours. And the roaches.

Steve

Steve was my difficult child while in his teens. He strove to be different. He was happiest when he could make people speechless. When in the 10th grade he even went so far as to wear a skirt and a wig to high school (I didn't find that out until I was at a church gathering.).
The summer that he was 18 he was going back and forth if he wanted to go on a mission for our church or not. His family was pulling him in one direction and his friends were pulling in the other. There was a week long youth camp held at a college campus in Indiana. There was also one close to home, but the kids in our church were going there and he did not to go with them. He said he would go if he could drive himself - in my new Cavalier.
I agreed because I so wanted him to be with kids who could influence him for good. He left on Monday morning.
I got a call around 1:00 in the afternoon from one of the councilors who was quite upset. He said that Steve had signed in but got upset and wanted to leave. If he were under 18, they had the right to keep him there, but he was 18 and could legally be on his own. I asked to talk to Steve. Steve was mad! He said he hated it there and that people were rude and he was coming home no matter what anyone says. I asked him to at least stay over night and that if he still felt the same, he could come home. He agreed. I asked him to call me the next day to let me know what was going on. Then I cried.
I was sitting on the couch by myself in the front room crying and praying. I had decided to fast and pray the rest of the day to see if Steve could get some guidance.
Someone knocked at my back door. I opened the door and our two missionaries stood there smiling. They can't come in if there is just a female in the house, so they stood in the doorway. It was pretty clear that I was crying, so they asked what was wrong. I told them and they both volunteered to fast and pray with me. What wonderful young men. I will never forget them for that.
After they left, I remembered that when you pray, you should be specific. So I asked God to send Steve an angel.
Steve didn't call the next day. Or the day after that or the day after that. I couldn't contact the camp, either. I was worried that my son and my new car was in Florida.
Saturday morning Steve finally called. He was in the best mood. He told me what a great week that he had had. I couldn't resist asking if he had met a 'special' person (the angel I had prayed for). He said no. He said he met a bunch of special people.
My heart soared! I knew that Father had answered my prayers. I knew that my son had gone to a great place and had a great time.

C-A-N-D-Y

One of my earliest memories involves two things that interest me - spelling and candy. I must have been about 4 years old (I wasn't in school yet.) when one night one of my brothers said to my mom, "When K-i-t-t-y goes to b-e-d, why don't you make some f-u-d-g-e." I knew what he was spelling. I said, "No! I want to stay up if you're going to make fudge!" I remember my 2 brothers and Mother looking at me with their mouths open. Looking back, they must have said that quite often for me to know what they were spelling!
My mom never used a recipe. She knew how to make fudge from memory. When we lived in Detroit, Mom would give me some money and send me to the 'candy' store to buy peanuts for the fudge. Sometimes she made the suggestion and sometimes someone else would, but we had her home made fudge quite often. Back then it was also customary that if you needed a cup of sugar, you could call a neighbor and borrow it. My mom sent me down the street a number of times with her glass measure. One time she sent me to get some vanilla. I thought it smelled heavenly. It did not taste heavenly.
She never used a candy thermometer. She used the cold-water-in-the-cup method. She would boil the mixture for so long then drop just a tiny glob of fudge into the cold water. If the fudge dissolved, it wasn't even close. If it formed into a soft ball, it was getting closer. When the ball was firm, it was time to take it off the stove, stir the fudge and pour it into a pan. If the fudge turned into a hard ball instantly - it was too late. The fudge was like concrete and sometimes tasted like it was burned.
Memories of standing at my mom's side while she created marvelous tasting items stay with me and make me smile.

Jordan River Temple

When we lived in Salt Lake City, the Prophet announced the building of a new temple in West Valley City. It wasn't very far from our house, so we would go to the building sight and take pictures. We have a complete picture history of the building of the Jordan River Temple.
One day we noticed that there had been a new addition to the sight in front of the almost-built temple. It was the Angel Moroni. The statue was HUGE! Bruce stood next to it while I took the picture so we could get an idea of just how big the statue really is. What an incredible sight.
We went to the dedication of the Jordan River Temple. We sat in the tabernacle on Temple Square. What an experience. It was one of the most uplifting events I had ever attended - rivaled only by the dedication of our own Detroit Temple.
We had moved to West Valley City. We had some 'misfortunes' with the crooked owner of the house we rented. Bruce had undergone back surgery and we had no income. With 5 children all under the age of 9, it was not a fun time. The best thing that happened was that Bruce graduated from Utah Technical College - second in all of the graduating class. He had one A minus, the other guy had straight A's.
As we prepared to move back home to Michigan, we went to the temple. Bruce and I were both feeling horrible about our lives at that time. We went to the temple and after we changed our clothes, we met up in the hallway before the ceremony began. There was a temple worker at the door greeting all the attendees. He saw us and asked that we step aside. I thought, "oh, no! Now what have we done? Are they going to ask us to leave?"
The worker came up to us and said something about seeing us walking down the hall holding hands and he felt inspired to ask us to be the witness couple. My spirit soared! Of course! In the temple we are closest to Father than we are anywhere else on earth. He knew our pain and was letting Bruce and I know that He loved us - despite the trials we faced.

Cross Country Skiing

Actually, the name of this blog is misleading. We didn't do much cross country skiing. We skied around our house and a bit out back and one time we took then to Winona to do some skiing. The years after we bought the skies, it stopped snowing enough in Michigan to use them. Sorry, our fault to all those who love deep snow.
It was Bruce's idea too buy the skis, but I got on board right away with the idea. I loved anything physical. It wasn't hard to learn how to use the skis, but it sure was a great work-out. You use everything on your body when you ski, except maybe your ears and you cover them anyway.
It was Bruce's thought to take our skis to Winona, MN with us. He said there were lots of open spaces where we could ski. We brought 2 of our kids with us to an ice skating rink on a lake that is actually a backwater of the Mississippi. It's damned up, so there's not a current. Bruce suggested we ski on the lake.
I am not a fan of lakes - either solid or liquid. He kept reassuring me, though, that he had grown up here and the lake was thoroughly frozen and we would not fall through. Then he showed me the tracks where someone had taken a snowplow onto the lake to clear out the spot to skate.
We got our skis on and off we went. I've got to say that I was nervous the whole time we were out, then I noticed an open spot where the lake is aerated (sp?). I told Bruce I really wanted to get off the ice. He agreed.
We headed for the solid ground that God had gathered for smart men to walk (ski) on. To get to the shore we had to cross over the path that the snowplow had cleared. The snow was piled up on each side of the path at least 2 foot higher than the ice. Bruce was skiing ahead of me. He treated the banks as if they were just a part of the solid snow. Wrong - o, Marylou! He went down like a sack of potatoes on the ice. He was laying there flat on his back with his ski's crossed. His poles were extended out from his body, still in his hands. I called out to him to see if he was all right. He answered back that he was fine, but he couldn't get up. I don't know what he thought I could do about that, especially since I could barely stay on my ski's because I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
I had watched Bruce go over the bank and take a dive the way he skied, so I got to the edge of the bank and put my feet together, pushed off and glided down one side of the bank and up the other. It worked quite well.
I honestly do not remember how we got Bruce on his feet, but I do remember our skiing was done for the day. We gathered the kids and went back to his grandmother's house.

Trip to Winona

The summer before we moved to Springville, Utah, we made a trip to Winona, Minnesota. Gramps had passed away a couple of years prior, so we were going to see Grandma Stanislawski. She said she had some bunk beds she wanted to give to us.
We borrowed Bruce's dad's van, packed in our 3 boys and one daughter - ages 9 months to 5 years old - and headed west. It was always a long trip, but the back roads through Wisconsin could leave you breathless.
We stayed a few days, loaded the van with needed furniture and headed to Nauvoo, Illinois. We have always loved visiting Nauvoo. It's so inspirational. The missionaries there are wonderfully informative and nice. We also wanted to make sure the kids had an extra influence for good in their lives.
We were absolutely exhausted by the time we drove from Winona to Nauvoo, then walked around a little bit. We needed to find somewhere to sleep, but we had very little money. There is a camp sight in Nauvoo, though, so we took our little family there.
The kids curled up in the back of the van and Bruce and I slept in the chairs in the front. Not fun. When morning came, I took Chris and our daughter to the outside toilet. It was horrible! It was an old fashioned outhouse. I took the kids one at a time and stood in there with them because they were afraid of the open drop under the seat.
We brushed our teeth with water from a pump and had crackers and cheese for breakfast. I was busy with the baby and my 2 year old when our daughter said she had to pee. I asked her if she could wait, but she said, no, she had to go NOW. I could not stop doing what I was doing and I don't remember what Bruce was doing, so I told her to go on by herself. I could see the outhouse from where we were. Off she went. She had gone into the outhouse and within a minute she started screaming. Blood curdling screams. I turned on my heel and took off for the outhouse. Bruce heard the screams and he ran to the outhouse. I got there first and yanked the door open terrified as to what I would find in there. Had she fallen down into the waste? Nope. There was my 3 year old sitting with her pants around her ankles screaming because there was a bee in the outhouse with her.
We got home at about midnight on Saturday. We wanted to be able to rest on the Sabbath, so we pushed to get home on Saturday. Bruce pulled the van around to the back of our house so it would be easier to unload. We only had a key to the front door, so he went around to let us in the back. While he was gone, a police cruiser pulled into our driveway. The officer got out of his car and asked to see my identification. Bruce walked out of the back door and he was also asked for his I.D. He asked us questions about who we were and what we were doing. When he was satisfied that we were who we said we were he told us our neighbors behind us saw a strange vehicle pulling into our yard at midnight. They knew we were gone and were afraid someone was robbing us.
Some people may have gotten mad about being suspected of being a thief, but Bruce and I were very grateful for alert neighbors. All ended well - if not exhausting.

Neighbors

We had an elderly couple living next to us in Detroit. He was 15 years older than his wife. They had an arranged marriage from 'the old country'. The husband was a sweet man who used to make his own wine in their basement. the wife was not a nice person. She was demanding and very, very cheap.
Mrs. G. would call my mother and ask her to send my brothers over to mow her lawn. One of the boys would go, but it wasn't ever good enough. We had a hand mower, not a gas or electric mower, so it was not an easy task. Mrs. G. would go out and look at the lawn then tell them they had to do it again, the other way. Then she would give them one dollar.
Mrs. G. would call my mother and ask her to send me over because her house needed cleaned. I hated going! But my mother said that we need to help our neighbors. I would vacuum, sweep, dust, mop, fold clothes and whatever else she needed. I would either get a quarter or fifty cents and a St. Christopher's medal. I had more St. Christopher's medals than my Catholic friends.
Mrs. G was a heavy woman who could not stop drinking wine. She had to have weighed well over 300 pounds by the time her legs were totally incapacitated. Every morning - I mean EVERY morning - my parents would go to the G.'s house and help her to the porta-potty then to her wheelchair. Mom would help sponge bathe her and brush her hair.
Eventually they got a type of hoist to get her out of her bed because she was so heavy.
Mr. G. tried to help, but he was old and fragile. So, he asked us to come to dinner at their house for a REAL Italian meal. My parents accepted and on a Sunday in between meetings we went to their house for a home cooked Italian meal.
Next to my plate was a full glass of grape juice. I loved grape juice. We didn't have it very often because it was an expense m parents felt we needed, I guess. Anyway, I took a gulp of grape juice and about gagged. I turned to my father and said something about the grape juice tasting bad. He shushed me and told me to be polite, drink it anyway.
We had fresh bread, real Italian spaghetti and home made lemon cake. It was great. When I got used to the taste of the grape juice, I enjoyed it also.
We were finishing up the cake when one of their daughters came in the back door. (They had 13 living children.) She came bursting into the dining room wielding an empty wine bottle. I'll never forget the exchange that took place:
"Ma! Did you give these people this wine? You know they don't drink alcohol!"
"That's not-a wine! That's-a grape juice!"
The daughter apologized to us profusely. Mr. G.'s wine that he used to make was quite potent. So, Mrs. G felt that the wine that was commercial was not real alcohol.
my dad teased me for years about being an 'alky' because I drank a full glass of wine a dinner. I had a headache for the rest of that day.

Little Israel

I grew up in Detroit 3 blocks west of the 6 Mile and Schaeffer intersection. Exactly one mile north on 7 Mile was a group of stores, a schule and some bakeries - all Jewish. People called the area Little Israel. My dad used to drive us to the bakery there and we would go in and buy bagels - fresh, smelling like heaven, all types of grains and seasonings. It was quite a treat.
My best friend, Debbie and I walked up to 7 Mile and went through the stores up there. One jewelry store had a beautiful Star of David necklace. I looked at it and counted how much money I had. The necklace was $1.00 and I had a little over .90 cents. I smiled at the little old man behind the counter and told him I didn't have enough. I started to walk away with Debbie when I heard him call me back. He asked how much I had. I told him. He grunted, gave me a sideways look then told me he would sell it to me for the money I had.
I left the store with that beautiful star nesting around my neck and a huge smile on my face.

The Main Event

When the Silverdome was the home of the ?Detroit Lions, it was an incredible place to visit. There was a restaurant inside called the Main Event. Kerry Roop had rented this huge restaurant space and set up kick-boxing fights. Roz Stetson and I sang the Star Spangled Banner and we each had a solo in the middle of the fights. At the last event I was sitting next to June and her boyfriend. Kerry came over and asked June where I was. I raised my hand (almost under his nose!) and he told me to come with him. A friend of mine was fighting in the main event - which was called King of the Ring. Kerry wanted ME to give the trophy to the winner! I was so excited. That position is usually given to a very pretty girl. Hank won the fight (my friend) so Kerry gave me the trophy and I entered the ring to present it to him. Hank gave me a huge hug. It was the soggiest, smelliest hug I've ever gotten. What an experience, though. One that I will always cherish.

Brandon's Day

It has been a busy afternoon. Bruce and I gave Brandon $20.00 cash for his birthday, and he had gotten a $3.00 gift card from Toys R Us. So Brandon and I left Josh and Ashley with Chris and Dana and went to the store. First we stopped at Burger King and got a pop. Brandon was all smiles. We went to Toys R Us and walked around until Brandon made his choice of Baku Gahn's (I have no idea how to spell this, so I apologize.). He looked for sales and for how much he could get for the money he had. He was so cute to watch. He paid for his items then we went next door to get Abby a few doggy things.
I had called Chris earlier and asked that Dana not bother to bake a cake, I wanted to take Brandon to Kroger's so he could pick out his own cake. Of course, if you have cake, it's a rule you must have ice cream. We also bought bagels and cream cheese.
After dinner that night we sang to Brandon and everyone had a slice of cake. Brandon just beamed.
We chatted in the car both ways. He is a very intelligent young man and very well spoken. Sometimes I had to remind myself that he is only 10 years old.
I think I had just as good a day as Brandon did.

Life's Lessons

I learned an important lesson when I was in Primary. One that still surprises me to this day.
Our

I have had many precious times in my life. My marriage - both for time and then for eternity, the birth of my children and grandchildren, attending marriages of my children, their baptisms, graduation from college, buying a new, never lived in house, etc., etc., etc.
Today I'm reminded of seeing my first granddaughter when she was just hours old.
Bruce and I were down visiting our daughter for Thanksgiving when she went into labor. Eime (pronounced Amy) was born on Thanksgiving Day. Bruce and I went to the hospital to visit and there she was, the tiniest angel ever.
The hospital had her in her little cart pushed up to the nursery window next to a baby boy. This little baby boy weighed over 9 pounds and was of Latino heritage. He had thick, black hair that would soon need a trim and fat ruddy cheeks. Eimi had little hair, was very light skinned and around 6 pounds. What a comparison.
When I got to hold her, I felt almost a physical connection to this little angel. I was holding a newly-arrived-from-God's-presence little spirit embodied in a sweet perfect little body. She felt so warm. I knew from holding Eimi that there is definitely an eternal connection through family lines. She was supposed to be part of my family. I instantly fell in love with her.
Now we have another little baby coming into our family. I am so excited.

Roller Rink Accident

The Battle Creek Ward had a roller skating party. We got a sitter for Chris and our daughter, met up with some friends and off we went. I had been to a rink in Detroit a few times as a kid and loved skating. Bruce had also, but I had no idea he was a little klutzy.
WE were having the time of our lives, skating to the music, holding hands when Bruce fell. He didn't fall backwards, he fell forwards. He's about 6'3", so when he fell forward, he covered a lot of distance. Not only did he fall forward, but he flung his arms out. I rolled right over his fingers.
I felt bump, bump, bump, bump twice; each finger with front wheels then back. He had fallen so quickly that I didn't have time to stop.
When I did stop and turned back to him he was getting up. I asked him if he was all right. He said he was. I dissolved into gales of laughter right there in the middle of the rink.
We all need something to keep us humble.

NOT Powder-puff Football

When I was a junior at Rose D. Warwick High School in Tekonsha, MI., some of the girls wanted to have a powder puff football game between the junior and senior girls. We had never before had one and it was a relatively new idea.
A couple of girls from the 12th grade and a couple of girls from the 11th grade spoke with the principal to see if it was o.k. He said 'no'.
When asked why he wouldn't let us do it, I think he tried to frighten the girls by saying that if they wanted to play football, they had to do it like the boys did - tackle. We would have to use the schools equipment and suit up for real, manly-men football. We were all thrilled to do it. He was stuck, so he agreed to allow the game.
No one really knew me, I was the only new kid in school that year. Two of the senior girls cornered me in the lunchroom and threatened me. They said that if I played, they'd beat me up. I looked them in the eye and told them I was playing. They left with the threat and I just about fell on the floor with weak knees! I'd never been threatened before! Not even in Detroit!
We practiced with the junior members of the boys team. Well, the boys practiced with the cheerleaders and the rest of us were pretty much ignored.
I was a left end and my best friend, Mary Ellen Hazen was a tackle. She looked like a pro player in her uniform. She was 5'9 and built like a pear, small shoulders and wide hips. With the shoulder pads on, she was huge.
My parents came to the game to see girls play tackle football. I have to say my folks were entertained. The kickoff was a whopping success with the ball flying about 6" into the air then flopping at least 8 yards. It was down hill from there.
I did recover a fumble and the juniors won. We got a touchdown and the seniors didn't. I think it was more like 'herd' ball that an organized game. But we were so excited. Mary should have been MVP. She had 2 brothers who loved to harass her and her friends, so tackling a sissy girl was easy for Mary.
The girls who threatened me never beat me up. There was not another game between the juniors and seniors until after I graduated.

Wedding

The year was 1971. My sweetheart had proposed and I had accepted. We decided to get mat tied before the year was out - taxes!
My father had just started a job (this is after his failed attempt with his brother - Ronnie - to build houses) and my family did not have any extra money. Weddings were not something that could be budgeted for in a non-existent budget. That was all right. Bruce and I were both working and we had saved some money. We paid for our own wedding.
Being LDS we didn't have to pay for a minister or the building to get married in. My mom suggested that the family could clean up the church after the wedding so we wouldn't have to pay a clean-up fee.
I fell in love with a bridal gown and veil from the J.C. Penney catalog. Inclusively, it was $100.00. I ordered it. It did not even need any altering, it fit like the picture. Bruce is so tall that it didn't matter what height heel I had.
I had 5 bridesmaids, so Mom and I went shopping for patterns and material. I wanted all different colors in pastel. Beth made her own, Karen made her own and Mom made the other three. We also had 2 flower girls, June and my niece Pammy. They wore yellow. Mom made both of those dresses also.
My art teacher, Mrs. Pileri, made the cake. We paid $35.00 for 5 bottom cakes and three additional tiers to the top. We bought a cake top that was 2 hearts made of pearls entwined.
The most involved part of the wedding was picking out and having invitations made. Bruce and I agreed on everything. There wasn't any arguments nor was there any ego issues.
Bruce and I ordered flowers. I was so excited because I ordered a bouquet that I thought my mom would love. We drove to my house from the florist and I ran into the house to tell my mom that my bouquet was made up of red poinsettias. She flipped. How could I carry a bouquet of red flowers? People would talk! Brides carried all white flowers! We drove back to the florist and changed the order post haste!
Bruce's best man - Ken Behling - was 5'3". My maid of honor was 5'9". I had asked Mary to please buy flats for the wedding. She bought 3" heels. They looked pretty funny walking down the aisle together.
My parents bought Ted a little brown suit to wear for the wedding. He was to carry my train down the aisle.
While my father and I waited for my turn to walk down the aisle, my dad got his licks in. "There goes Beth." "There goes Karen. You're almost up!" "Well, there goes Mary. You're next! Are you nervous? I am!" By the time we walked down the aisle, I was shaking like a leaf. And crying. My life was changing. I was going from a child in my parents home to an adult in my husband's and my home. It was happening in a matter of hours.
The wedding was beautiful. Everything went well. The reception was simple - cake, mints, cashews and punch.
After the reception the wedding party drove around honking horns and creating minor havoc. When we went into the circle around the fountain in Marshall, Don's car slid on ice and his car rammed ours - well, Ken's car. There was no damage, thank heaven.
That was all almost 38 years ago. We're still together, through thick and thin, trials, happiness and 5 children.

Henry Ford High

After the riots happened at Cooley High and my parents pulled me out, they tried to get me into another high school. Back then ( I don't know if it's still true) Detroit schools had 1/2 years. You could start a grade in January, not just September. So, my parents tried to sign me up to go to Henry Ford High. You had to live in the school district then, and with the busing going on it was strictly enforced.
Karen's parents offered to let me live with them and go to school, but my parents didn't want to get that drastic. There was a family in our ward who lived in Henry Ford's boundaries. They said I could use their address and still live at home. I would go to seminary in the morning, go home with Karen then either ride the bus home from Karen's or my parents would pick me up at Karen's house.
I started in January at Henry Ford. My mom registered me with a false address. I already knew a few of the kids there - Karen, Roz, their boyfriends and a few other guys. I loved it there! When I went to lunch, Roz's boyfriend invited me too sit with him. I didn't know it but the table he sat at was the table reserved for the varsity guys. There I was, varsity guys then me and the rest of the lunchroom wondering who I was.
I had gone there for two weeks when I was called into the office. My mom was there. I was being thrown out of high school. The boundary issue was so intense that the school sent out a person to check if the addresses of the new students were valid. The person at the address that my mom had used couldn't lie. She 'fessed up that I didn't really live there. So I was summarily tossed out. I was SO embarrassed.
I didn't go back to school until we moved out to Eckford and I went to Tekonsha High.

Cemetery

I was 15 years old when our youth group from church decided to have a hayride. We were all to meet at a farm, go on a hayride, have some refreshments then go home. I got there early, then Karen came with Roz. There were three guys there, too - Richard, Hal and I think his name was Matt. The guys saw a cemetery across the street and invited us girls to go with them.
We hesitated. None of us was too brave, but in the end we were persuaded to go with them into the cemetery.
The girls all walked in a tight bunch and the guys told scary stories of dead people rising from their graves. We were in the middle of the cemetery when one of the guys pointed to a grave and screamed. They all took off running, screaming and laughing. We all took off, too.
I was streaking toward the entrance when I heard, "My shoe! My shoe came off! I can't find my shoe!" It was Roz.
I was torn. Do I run for safety with the rest of the gang or do I go back and help Rozzy? I could not leave Roz there by herself. I went back and we frantically searched for this little black slipper. We found it! We put our arms around each other and ran as fast as we could out of that cemetery.
When we got back to the farm, the guys and Karen were there laughing their collective butts off.

Cars!

When Chris was 16, we bought him a used car from a friend. He had his license for about 2 months before he wrapped the car around a tree on Waterford Rd. We took his license from him for a few months.
The following summer we bought him a used Firebird. Not a good thing! This car was pretty fast and looked the part. Chris loved that car.
One day I had to borrow it to go to a karate lesson. I had on a brand new white uniform. The trip took about 15 minutes on back roads. It had been raining for a few days, so everything was wet. There were puddles everywhere.
In the middle of a dirt road there was a huge puddle that stretched across the whole road. I couldn't avoid it. I drove through it and all of a sudden muddy water splashed up from the floorboard all over me. My pretty white uniform had huge brown spots all over the legs and up the front of me. I was shocked for a few seconds.
Then - I have this strange sense of humor - I could see in my minds eye the water splashing all over me and the look on my face. I started laughing. I almost had to pull over because I was laughing so hard.
The floorboard had a couple of big holes in it that Chris had covered with cardboard. I must have moved the cardboard when I was driving. I'm not the only one that got bushwhacked by the holes. My daughter got a face full of water, too.

The Thing Steve Dragged Home

It must have been 1994 or 1995. I was standing in my dining room in Rochester, Mi when I heard this very strange scraping, screeching noise. It was faint at first, then got louder and louder. I was reminded of the War of the Worlds by Wells with this noise.
I ran to the front window and looked out to see what was going on. I saw Steve's truck with something behind it. I couldn't make out what it was, but it was the object making this otherworldly noise. The closer he got, the louder it got.
Finally he pulled up in front of the house. I waited until the noise stopped (o.k., call me a coward if you want, but if you knew Steve when he was a teenager, you would understand).
I went outside and saw this rusted out shell of a dune buggy. It had no wheels, which is why it was so noisy!
Steve was so proud of his new find. "Mom! Look! This guy said I could have it if I just took it home!" I thought of finding this guy and smacking him.
"Josie (his girlfriend a the time) and I are going too fix it up and have fun in it. It won't take too much work."
It sat out front for quite a while without anyone touching it except Rob and Brian who went out and took funny pictures of one sitting on the others' shoulders while in the driver's seat. They had a blast in the eye sore.
One day a police officer showed up at the door. He said there had been a complaint by a neighbor and we had to get the buggy out of sight or we would be ticketed. Great. So the boys pushed and pulled this ugly thing into the garage and closed the door.
A couple of years later, Bruce insisted that Steve get rid of the 'thing' in our garage. Steve called a junk yard and it was towed away.
The road to hell is filled with good intentions. I thought for sure that hell was visiting us with the noise that thing made coming down the street to my house.