I think I can blame my birthday and various media for inspiring this blog.
A broadcast news item about raising the flag at Iwo Jima (see the Wikipedia piece).
Bachman Turner Overdrive’s Taking Care of Business coming out of my PC speakers.
OK, get over it, I’m old school, it’s a Dell desktop, and the music is coming out of external speakers my son was nice enough to install, small but with an impressive bass response. Thanks, son!
I won’t name all the songs I was listening to, but there were 3 BTO, 3 Canned Heat, and 3 Chicago tracks, obviously music I like. One of the Canned Heat tracks was Let’s Work Together (Let’s Stick Together). I believe it’s on Disc 2 of Uncanned: The Best of Canned Heat album if you’re interested. Music and images (Iwo Jima) is a segue . . . possibly.
Today was a pretty darn good birthday. Even work was kind of fun – go figure, eh! I got happy birthdays from my Facebook friends, which I was checking out on my lunch break of course. I liked it and got a little buzzed about having 34 people wish me a happy birthday! I should try to move along in this modest literary exercise, tomorrow is another workday. Perhaps you glanced at my 2015 Preview – here are a few snippets to wet your curiosity.
“Who is Peter Finch?” – The title of this upcoming post should be, “Who is Howard Beale?” because he is the character that Peter Finch played. You should at least google it or read the imdb.com summary of the film. Better yet, buy a copy or rent it on Amazon. The movie was highly acclaimed, winning several academy awards that year. But why was he shouting “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.” Remember it was a “satire”, but you should look up the definition if you aren’t familiar with that word.
An even better question is, “why aren’t we mad as hell and shouting I’m not going to take it anymore”? For now, I will mention just this one more thing, which is a carryover from my college days at a military school. People used to say things like, “Your head is so far up your _ _ _ that you need a glass belt buckle to see where you’re going.” Now as I recall more clearly, that was often what an upperclassman (usually a sophomore) would say to an underclassman (a freshman) when the cadet couldn’t answer a question about some obscure fact related to the college. Do we as Americans have our heads up our _ _ _ _ _ about what’s going on?
Remember my blog post on December 21, 2014, about mindfulness – try this just for fun. The next time you’re in a serious conversation with someone, really listen to what they’re saying and try to respond, rather than, while they’re talking, thinking about your own ideas and what you want to say. More in my next installment about mindfulness.
I’m about done. Two more items to complete the segue from the two bullets above. The Canned Heat songs (titles and music) speak for themselves, as does the Iwo Jima photograph. Think about it. There are six people raising the flag in the famous photograph, five Marines and a Navy Corpsman. Three of the Marines were killed in action over the next few days. Any flag raisers out there? God I hope so!
Professor Harry Alexander Deans, born June 17, 1932, died December 22, 2014
“. . . and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” (Psalm 23:6)
About Harry Deans
Harry was a man of tremendous kindness. Though quiet by disposition he never failed to provide a big smile and hug, usually with a heartfelt chuckle. He was a man of powerful intellect and commitment that preferred being in the background unless you needed him, as still water runs deep. There is no doubt his daily example of unconditional love will live on within his family and never be forgotten. We will miss him so very much.
“You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man’s life is but a breath.” (Psalm 39:5)
Harry was born on June 17, 1932, in Dallas, Texas, to parents Herbert and Marie (Cooke) Deans. Harry completed North Dallas High School before attending Rice University at age 16, where he earned his Bachelor of Arts and Master of Science degrees. He pursued and earned his PhD from Princeton University in Chemical Engineering. He was an outstanding student and a Rhodes Scholar.
“Then Jesus said to his disciples: Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.” (Luke 12:22)
Harry spent most of his lifetime mentoring his students. He joined Rice University as a professor where he was awarded the most prestigious Brown Award for teaching at spring graduation in 1974. After 25 years, he joined the faculty at the University of Houston in Chemical and Petroleum Engineering for eight years. He spent three years at Exxon Production Research in Houston before moving to a tenured position at the University of Wyoming for his last twelve years. He was recognized as Emeritus when retiring to University of Texas in 2000. Harry was known in the petroleum engineering field as the inventor of enhanced oil production techniques.
“. . . that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life.” (John 3:15)
In addition to his professional activities, Harry was known to his students and colleagues as “Daddy Deans”. He enjoyed his young family with Karolyn, losing his son Sam at age 6, fostering Laurie’s interest in science, assisting Daniel in building his airplanes, urging Melissa to enjoy reading, and sharing his wit with Andrew, a standup comedian. Harry married Delora Elizabeth Deans on January 1, 1975, in Taos, New Mexico. He was “daddy” to Gregory Buckles who followed him to Rice and to Deborah Buckles Kimball, a national sales representative. He always supported daughter Catherine Marie in her artistic vocal endeavors. His twelve grandchildren have found him to be a remarkable model and constant supporter of their interests.
“. . . but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)
Harry was a member of the Episcopal Church where he served as an usher and greeter. He maintained an interest in reading, music, skiing, hiking, and being outdoors enjoying nature. His love of flying flourished in Wyoming where he piloted the Scary Hairy Airlines with his Bonanza.
“We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers. Anyone who does not love remains in death,” (1 John 3:14)
He will be fondly missed by his wife of 40 years, Beth Deans, residing on their mini ranch in Georgetown, Texas. Harry is survived by his wife, a sister, two daughters, two sons, a step-son, and a step-daughter and their families including twelve grandchildren.
“The grass wither and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.” (Isaiah 40:8)
Tributes and Remembrances
Tribute, son Dan, Sunday, January 18, 2015:
It is a true honor to stand here this afternoon and share remembrances of my Dad, Harry Deans, and we truly appreciate all of you giving of your time today to be here, thank you for your grace. On behalf of his current wife of 40 years, Beth, his first wife 17 years, Karolyn, his children Laurie, Sam, Greg, Debbie, Melissa, Drew, Cathie and his 12 Grandchildren Kayleigh, Paige, Nicole, Collin, Cameron, Jonathan, Alex, Will, Daniel, Elizabeth, Tristan, and Matthew, and his sons-in-law Mark, Bill, John and Jim, and daughter-in-law Cathy, it is a privilege to share remembrances.
I want to first give God the glory, and to thank Him for sending His son Jesus Christ to be the propitiation for our sins. There is no gift greater than that, and I am completely certain in God’s sovereignty, over this sad loss to our family, and to all other situations – He reigns over Heaven and earth, and I am grateful for the saving knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Harry Deans was a loving husband and a father, he was a caring teacher, a brilliant engineer and researcher, and he was an avid outdoorsman and adventurer, and more importantly, he cared about his family, friends and students, and that point has been made quite clear given the outpouring of wonderful comments, stories, and care that we have experienced over the last several weeks. We have been so blessed to hear how Pop affected others in their life journeys, and he seemed to do so in a quiet and humble way.
Pop was brilliant, I used to tease him that he had a 2000 lb brain, and that he had a beautiful mind. He was the first engineer I ever met, and along with many others that he taught, I was inspired into my career because of him. He was always patient in explaining to us how the process worked, and describing his work. We had no idea how complex the process of oil extraction was, and even that there was a need for enhanced oil recovery, but Pop was a giant in that field, and has done a large service to the world in advancing the technology of Chemical and Petroleum Engineering.
He was inventive, with more than 15 patents that I am aware of, with one of the most important process enhancements being the single well tracer test that has made such an impact on the oil and gas industry. He has been featured on the National News, been around the world, and has passionately worked with many colleagues and scholars to advance the state of the discipline in enhanced oil recovery.
Pop was extremely confident, and could be very stubborn as well; He was so very sure in everything he took on.
He was a tactician – he always tackled a problem very methodically. He identified all boundaries, and solved the problem deliberately.
My Pop was creative and artistic, which is unusual for someone who had such a technical talent. He had the unending ability to tell stories and generate plots and intrigue on the fly – everyone one of his kids coveted the famous bed time stories that he told about the internationally known child agents George and Alice. We all looked forward to bedtime, because Pop would get us tucked in and sit there and till we fell asleep telling us rich stories about the adventures of those two. And it did not stop with us; he carried on that tradition with his grandkids. He cared about his kids and grandkids.
Pop loved music, but not just any music, but all kinds of classical, and was very passionate about classical music. He would sing along, whistle, and you could just see the passion in his eyes and his face has he was enjoying all kinds of music. Again, I am convinced that several of us, including my sister Cathie, myself, my son Collin, and several of Cathie’s kids along with others inherited that passion for music and for making music.
My beautiful wife Catherine pointed out that he had a love for food, and was passionate about dining well. She does not ever remember him eating fast food, and while I can’t confirm or deny that, he was constantly giving me pointers on my ordering etiquette, like the time I wanted a hamburger in a Chinese restaurant. That was not allowed….
Pop was sporting and enjoyed many sports, especially baseball, football, basketball and golf. He took time to throw the baseball with his kids, and to attend their sporting events. He loved to hike in the mountains, and climbed many peaks.
He had a love of airplanes, from building models to flying. I spent a lot of time in the air with Pop, and he was my inspiration for learning to fly and for the love that I have for all things in air and space.
I have much more I could say, and would continue, but interest of time I will close with two scriptures. James encouraged us to “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” I am choosing joy this morning in remembering our Pop. Also, the author of Hebrews wrote: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” We are only given a finite amount of time on this earth, and given that we don’t know how long that is, I am encouraged by my Dad’s life and I am hopeful to affect as many in a positive way while I am here as he did.
Thank you for the opportunity to share today, and Pop, I love you with my whole heart, and I am grateful to be your son, as I know your other children and grandchildren are grateful as well. In the wise wise words of Job: “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Remembrance, brother-in-law, Bernie:
Life happens, people we love leave, sometimes suddenly, and we don’t have a chance to say goodbye. It’s tough. The next best thing is to remember them in moments of laughter or having dinner with them, or talking, or walking. Maybe it was a kind gesture, a thank you, a word of encouragement, or a thoughtful gift. Think about the cascade of goodness that resulted from their influence. How many of us would regret a life of positive influence that we experienced, or being able to say, ‘see my son or my daughter or my spouse or my friend, I was there for them when they needed me.’ I think I can honestly say that Harry Deans was a person in my life who I’ll always remember for his positive effect on me and for the others whose lives he touched.
To me running always seemed like a perfect metaphor for life, you start here and you finish there. I remember running with Harry Deans in the summer of 2001 in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. He and his wife Beth, my sister, would rent a condo there every summer for a couple of months to relax and enjoy the sunshine. They invited me to come visit, so I drove over from Oregon. I had a good time with Beth and Harry bumming around Steamboat, going up to the mountaintop and into town to shop. I had known Harry for years since he and Beth got married, and we got to visit more often when we all lived in Houston. After I moved my family to Oregon, our visits were much less frequent, but it was always fun to go back. I remember flying with Harry on one trip. I had flown into the Denver airport, and we flew to Cheyenne where Beth and Harry lived at the time. I thought he was a very good pilot.
This is Part I about Harry’s life and is intended to introduce some thoughts about him and his passing on December 22, 2014. In Part II, I hope to include more about Harry’s life and to include remembrances of Harry from family and friends. I will say that my own remembrances of Harry are good ones, and I’m glad that he was part of my life. I’ll miss him.
Merriam-Webster: The quality or state of being mindful; the practice of maintaining a nonjudgmental state of heightened or complete awareness of one’s thoughts, emotions, or experiences on a moment-to-moment basis; also, such a state of awareness.
I was watching a piece on 60 Minutes about “mindfulness”, and I thought I’d share some insights that might interest you. The link to the 60 Minutes broadcast is below.
If you look in my blog under Things to Think About, I posted “Doing Nothing: It Might Save Your Life” in October of last year. I admitted to being a Type A personality. I also admit to not being an expert on stress reduction or someone who practices yoga on a regular basis. However, I am learning about how important it is to lighten up, loosen up, and simplify my lifestyle, and hopefully to practice mindfulness spontaneously, which is the point of this blog post.
Rather than try to summarize the Anderson Cooper piece that aired on 60 Minutes on December 14, 2014, I’m providing the link to the script of the video about the mindfulness retreat and Cooper’s dialog with Jon Kabat-Zinn.
I guess for me the main take-aways were Kabat-Zinn’s ideas on mindfulness and how practicing it can help a person reduce stress, be healthier, and lead a more contented and happy life.
Here are a few more take-aways before I close, not my original ideas but quotes from others and ideas from other sources.
From a relative’s blog: “. . . if we wake up every morning and dedicate ourselves to doing and being good, this brief practice will no doubt lead to positive results. Through defining your intention for the day, your actions will have better results”.
From a Buddhist teacher named Kongtrul Rinpoche: “We are born with built-in abilities toward self-reflection and self-awareness which are our tools for personal growth”.
Last but not least, something that Kabat-Zinn said during interviews with Anderson Cooper about practicing mindfulness. It’s not in the script, but it was something to the effect – “If you’re thinking its something you should start practicing, you’re missing the point. It’s not a big should, it’s not like, oh, now I gotta do one more thing that I have to put in my life, that I have to be mindful. It’s not a doing but a being, and being doesn’t take time”.
Did I tell you, faithful readers, that “running” was a theme that you might see pop up in my blog? There are more themes in my blog on various life interests, but I figure since I am a runner, I can occasionally bore you or perhaps entertain you with a post about running. A bit of foreshadowing on what happened before the run. It was a very rewarding effort to help others – hopefully rewarding to the recipients of our efforts and definitely rewarding to the three of us who put forth the effort. We spent a good part of Sunday purchasing items for the homeless and packaging them up for delivery to the nonprofit in Portland that would distribute them. These “Christmas care packages” were packed full of personal care items, socks, and some food items. For me, it may be one of the best Christmas gifts I’ve ever given, and that remark comes from someone who is not always big on Christmas. But that’s a whole different discussion. Now, to the running part of this post.
After my friends and I had delivered the care packages downtown, I came home and immediately suited up for a run – had to burn off some of that feel good energy. I say “suited up” because it is late in the year and chilly, which for me means gloves, ear warmers, water bottle, and usually and an MP3 player for entertainment, but I did not take it on this run. I kind of had a route in my mind before I left my house, but I am never sure when I take off where I am going or how far. I figured 4 to 6 miles. As it turned out, I ran 6 miles, and the route was a variation of many other runs. I ran through a favorite park that has a bridge over a narrow stream. I usually stop on the bridge and stretch and do a bit of meditating and bird-watching, which is probably why it’s a favorite park. I also met Frank and Sitka. Sitka, the dog being walked by its owner, Frank, was a bit shy, but not unfriendly. Later on I would meet another dog and its owner, Dwight and Lady Mary, who was a chow mix. After the introductions, we got into a discussion about how chows have a solid black tongue and mixed chow breeds usually have spots on their tongues. I know because we have a chow mix with spots on his tongue.
On the second half of the run, coming up a main thoroughfare I was looking at the red, white, and blue banners along the street. I had seen them before on previous runs. They were on utility poles along the way, about every half a block or so, and had been put up by the city of Beaverton to honor servicemen and servicewomen. On each banner was the person’s name and branch of the service. I’ll just give the branch and first names of a few – Navy, Art; Army, Arturo; Air Force, Lance; and Marines, Bailey. I think that it is extremely cool to honor them. Thank you, Beaverton for doing that.
Heading for home now, the end of a rewarding day. Maybe I’ll see you out on a run some day.
It was a humbling experience, standing there looking out over Pearl Harbor where it all happened on December 7, 1941, where over 2400 American servicemen died and 1,178 were wounded. Here’s the Wikipedia link if you’re interested:
A bit of back-story on why I was there on December 7, 1996.
I had flown to Honolulu the day before with friends, actually teammates, who were all part of Team in Training that raised money for the Leukemia Society (now called Leukemia & Lymphoma Society). We all raised money and trained for weeks and weeks to run the marathon in Honolulu. For me, because I’m a runner and because my mom died of Leukemia when I was 19, it was the right thing to do. I was honoring her memory. After we checked into our hotel in Waikiki on December 6, Quentin, the runner sharing a hotel room with me and I talked it over and decided to spend our free day before the marathon at Pearl Harbor.
Every year Honolulu honors the Pearl Harbor casualties with a dockside memorial service in front of the museum. If you go there, you should go to the museum and take the tour out to the Arizona site. Along the dockside were tripods set up with a wreath and the picture and name of the honoree. There was an informal service. I don’t remember for sure, but I think there were about 20 people being honored. Then we took the launch out to the site of the U.S.S. Arizona (BB-39). Right next to the partially submerged battleship was a memorial with all the names of the Arizona servicemen who died inscribed on a stone monument. Regardless of how you feel about war and the results of war, it’s hard not to be moved by visiting Pearl Harbor.
Although running the Honolulu marathon the next day was a bit anticlimactic after the Pearl Harbor tour, everyone on the Team in Training team finished the marathon and had a great time celebrating afterwards.
What’s not to love, with so many lovable qualities, she is thoughtful and considerate, faithful, very smart, good-natured, resourceful, clean, thrifty, and friendly. It might embarrass her if I continued to list her good qualities. Maybe one or two more – she’s very generous with her time and money, and pretty. She is a forgiving person and hasn’t given up on me after all these years, including my annoying habits – “I told you, but you didn’t hear what I said”. I suppose I’m not the first husband or significant other who has been accused of that, eh. The point is, when I do turn a deaf ear and either refuse to listen or refuse to comprehend what she said, I know it upsets her, but she lets it pass. She knows that that part of my personality (not listening) will probably never change. Yes, I did say she was a forgiving person, and most importantly, she has accepted me and loves me in spite of my annoying habits.
But this blog is supposed to be about her (not me) on her birthday. I have more praises to heap upon her head. I can’t think of a anyone I’ve ever met who was so willing to give of herself, whether it be babysitting the grandkids, cooking a special meal and delivering it to friends who just had a baby and might not have the energy to cook for themselves, or doing things for others when she really didn’t have the energy but made the effort anyway.
I’m going to end here, but I hope she reads this and realizes her birthday means one more year that I was able to spend with her and how fortunate I am to have been with her during that time, and that I love her.
OK, the first post with the picture of the tree and the long caption has been sitting there for a few days, maybe it’s time to explain or expand on what I meant.
First of all, as you probably noticed, the tree in the picture isn’t an oak. I selected it at random out of a bunch of pictures I took on a trip to Houston, my other hometown – I live in Portland, Oregon, but grew up in Texas. I think it’s a Crepe Myrtle, but that’s only a guess. The circle in the middle is kind of cool. Isn’t it interesting how trees will grow around a weakness or injury.
Here’s a bit more to explain the long caption. By the way, I did a blog post last fall titled “Doing Nothing” (it’s in the archives under “Things to Think About”) . The tone of this post is similar. Anyway, to explain the post from earlier this week, I was relaxing in my back yard, just sitting in my comfortable swing, rocking back and forth. It was a really nice spring evening, not too hot or too cold, and dry with a bit of a breeze, and the sun was going down. The tree I was looking at was a large oak tree, fully leafed out. It was back-lit by the dusky sunlight and was fairly dark except for one spot in the center where a ray of light broke through. Stay with me on this, you may have to use your imagination. To me, the dark rounded shape of the oak tree, kind of shaped like your head or your brain and the penetrating ray of light made me think of or represented how a thought or an idea might occur to me. To extend this “thinking analogy” a bit more, there is an ash tree in my yard, but it is bare of leaves. The bare branches curving and stretching out in different directions made me think of neural pathways in the brain. I guess my point is, it’s good to relax and loosen up the thinking processes. You never know what ideas might come up.
Let’s address the definition first, at least by example what I think a persona is . . .
Wait, push the pause button, just a quick side note about this blog topic. If you looked in the “About” section, under “Themes”, you may have read that People is one of the themes in my blog, actually a main theme, so think of Personas as a People topic. You can push play now.
How about this example . . . you’re a rancher, you get up in the morning, put on a clean pair of jeans and a plaid shirt with sturdy pockets, slip on a pair of comfortable boots, well-worn, but clean, and your hat. You sit down for a cup of coffee and a hearty breakfast, anticipating a demanding day getting ready for a stock sale only two weeks away.
Another persona might be . . . you’re an artist and you make artistic pottery. Your kiln is heating up and you’re making some rough sketches on paper – you don’t always do sketches, but the vision of a new series hasn’t quite clearly formed in your mind. You have a vast mental storehouse of ideas that you can draw on, from experiences in different cultures in Spain, in Mesoamerica, and in more domestic, communal settings. As the kiln continues to heat, you warm to the new ideas for your pottery series.
You get the idea, right. Personas are important I think you’d agree, probably a very healthy thing and a part of yourself that should be nurtured, possibly something that is essential, like the ego.
In one of my earlier blog posts, I described myself as several things – a writer, a grandfather, a photographer, and a runner. Recently I put on my running clothes and said to myself that I was a runner. A foregone conclusion I suppose, given that I ran over 1400 miles in 2013, no brag, just fact and that’s not counting the races that I did, probably another 100 miles. I really like running, for the physical exertion, the mental uplift and therapeutic benefits, and the endorphins, of course. And, make no mistake about it, it’s hard work and some days I don’t feel like running, but even on those days, I make an effort and I run. Like that scene from Forrest Gump where Tom Hanks with his long beard and hair is asked why he runs and he says something like, “I like to run.”
Children too have personas, not just adults – in fact, children can have very interesting and provocative personas, partly I think because they are unfettered by all the mental debris that we so-called adults have accumulated over time. Try this one out, perhaps typical of other children’s personas, but in other ways a unique persona.
This young person likes video games – no surprise there. He likes to play outside with his friends, in a part of the country where the climate isn’t always hospitable – who needs a jacket. He likes to make good grades, especially A+’s. His favorite things to learn about are math and science (especially space exploration). He has two baby sisters and likes to spend time with them. And last but not least in this short list of persona attributes, his favorite season is summer, which relates back to another attribute that I mentioned, playing outside. Later on I’ll relate the personas of others who this young person knows well.
April 20, 2014
He rides a motor bike and patrols a trail where I run sometimes, near a big corporate campus for a running shoe and apparel manufacturer. I’ll call him Cliff (not his real name). I often stop during my run to talk to Cliff. He’s a bit younger than me, actually everyone is younger than me, but we have similar backgrounds in that we were both in the service, Cliff in the Coast Guard and me in the Navy. He retired from the Coast Guard after 20 years of service. He was a Boatswain’s Mate. I had that duty for a while on my ship, so I was familiar with what it was like. We joked about how often things got painted aboard a ship. He told me about his duty on the Mississippi River near Baton Rouge. One of their assignments was to maintain the navigation systems on the river, part of which involved servicing the red and green navigation lights that lined the river. The lights help ships orient themselves while underway on the river. He told me one year the river was so dry you could walk all the way across to the other side. He also served in Puerto Rico and Guam and several other places. I think people with a service background, any service, are interesting because of the stories they tell about their experiences. I highly recommend talking to an ex-service person. Next time I stop to talk to Cliff, I think I’ll ask him how many runners and walkers he gets a chance to talk to.
If I may digress from retelling the events of the reunion, I’d like to say some things about what made growing up in Liberty, Texas special. Consider the following points:
It was geographically efficient – you could drive all over town in less than an hour.
Just about everybody was friends with everybody else. Not that we never had disagreements. I remember when I bloodied my best friends nose in the 5th grade over a girl named Ann. His name was Mike. We were attending the Immaculate Conception Catholic School. The next day we’d forgotten all about it and were best friends again.
Given that Liberty was a small town with only an indoor theater, a drive-in theater, drive-ins with food and carhops, and a bowling alley that later burned down, our options were limited. The drive-ins (or “drive-arounds”) did allow us to show off our new flashy paint jobs and cool hub caps to anyone who might be there also showing off. Despite our lack of options compared to a big city, we always found things to do and rarely got bored. As I mentioned in a previous blog, there was sports, a very big part of our lives. And there was the Trinity River bottoms which provided opportunities for exploring and hunting snakes. And, yes, we drank ourselves silly every chance we had.
I’d rather not end on that comment about the drinking, so I’ll just end my brief recollection of good times in Liberty. I’m hoping that my classmates will contribute their memories to this modest literary effort. Anybody out there listening (or reading)?
blazinbernie
Looking for a Rufous 