Criticize or Encourage?

As we go through life, one of the constants seems to be criticism.  I'm sure that everyone has been the recipient of criticism and has more than likely been critical of others.  Criticism is not an effective way of solving problems.  What methods should we use in place of criticism? How about trying affirmation. During the Wednesday night prayer meeting at my church, we have been studying 1 Thessalonians. We have seen that even when Paul was addressing problems he included plenty of affirmation. It's been shown that, in order to neutralize the emotional impact of criticism, one must affirm five times.

Paul wrote in 1 Thessalonians 5:11, "so encourage each other and give each other strength, just as you are doing now". Are you encouraging those around you or are you criticizing?  Elizabeth Harrison, a pioneer in early childhood education in America stated, "Those who are lifting the world upward and onward are those who encourage more than criticize".

When I was in grade school I often heard the retort, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me". That statement is not true. In fact, words may not break our bones, but they certainly can damage our spirits. In Proverbs 12:18 the Bible tells us, "sharp words can wound as deeply as any sword, but wisely spoken words can heal".

When we speak words of criticism we are not following God's plan. Ephesians 4:29 says, "do not use harmful words, but only helpful words, the kind that build up and provide what is needed, so that what you say will do good to those who hear you". If we want to help someone we need to encourage them, not criticize them. I need to ask myself, "Am I encouraging others"?  God's Word certainly tells us to do so.

When we encourage and help others, we are showing God’s love. I encourage you to try it. Show someone how much you value them for who they are. Encouragement can drastically change a person’s life! I recently ran across a story written by Kathy Schultz. She said that, "pink is my granddaughter's favorite color. She had been telling me this since she first discovered colors. The other night as she chatted away, she added that yellow was another one of her favorite colors."

Kathy went on to explain why her granddaughter had added yellow as a favorite color. She said that when she asked about the new favorite color, her granddaughter began by telling her that when she went to music class, Mrs. Cooke, the music teacher told her she was a bright yellow crayon, bright as the sun.

Kathy wrote, "this is a wonderful description of my grandchild! The teacher was right. She is a bubbly, cheerful, child. Truly, she is a bright ray of sunshine." She concluded by saying, "words have such power. A small statement made by her teacher had truly inspired my granddaughter. It made her even list yellow as her favorite color. I doubt she will ever forget the teacher's kind remarks. This made me think of the words I say. Do I say kind, encouraging, inspiring words to others?"

The word ‘encouragement’ means to support. When we encourage we speak words that uphold someone to bring change for the better. By our words we need to let them know that we support their dreams, pursuits, and goals. We all tend to get discouraged from time to time and need encouragement.

Colossians 3:12 tells us, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” If we clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience we will be perfectly equipped to be an encouragement to others. We will not have a critical spirit.

To criticize or encourage, the choice is yours. I hope that your choice will be to encourage others. If you do, God will encourage you!

New

N is for New.  Today is the release date in the U.S. for the new Paul McCartney album, "New".  There has been a lot of hype about this new album, and as one reviewer put it, Paul has been here, there, and everywhere promoting it's release.  I am looking forward to hearing the new record.  I pre-ordered the album and hope it will be delivered today.

We are just a few months away from the 50 year anniversary of the Beatles debut in the U.S.  I have been listening to them since 1964 when my really cool older cousin Teresa succumbed to the early effects of Beatlemania.  When her family visited ours in 1964 we went to Red Rocks Amphitheater not long after The Beatles had played there.  She was so excited to be able to stand on the very stage where John, Paul, George and Ringo had stood not long before. The very first album I owned was Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heats Club Band.

I was able to see Paul live at Cowboys Stadium in 2009.  One day my daughter called asking me if I would like to go see Paul with her. I had to ask her to repeat herself because I wasn't sure what she had said. I though about it for a couple of seconds and said sure. We talked to my wife, my son and his fiance and they all wanted to go. I have passed on my love of "classical" music to my children.  You can read about my experience at the concert here.

Paul has released the title track from the new album on You Tube, so I have been able to hear it.  I love it and it makes me want to hear the rest of the album.  Here is the official you tube release of "New".





Here is a fun acoustic version of the song with his band.




If the new album, "New" isn't in the mail today I am going to be disappointed.  I'm going to go check the mailbox now.

The ABC Wednesday Meme is a fun way to see some great blogs.

Reunion

Over the past several months I have enjoyed attending several reunions.  In July I went to Tennessee for my aunt’s 85th birthday celebration.  Then in August I was able to attend my cousin’s 50th wedding anniversary.  He was the best man at my wedding.  I had a great time with relatives I seldom see.

Two weeks ago, my wife and I attended our 40th High School reunion. We both attended Campion Academy in Loveland, Colorado and graduated in 1973.  It had been 30 years since we had seen most of our classmates - we attended our ten year reunion.  As we pulled onto the campus of Campion Academy we were a bit nervous.  What would our old classmates be like?  Would we have anything in common? Would we recognize them?  Would they recognize us?

As I parked the car and walked up to the registration table my apprehension was confirmed as I couldn't place the first person who spoke to me.  But within just a few minutes all uneasiness melted away as old friends greeted us.  I was amazed as classmates bridged the forty years like it was no time at all.

While we were there, I looked up an old friend I hadn't seen in years. When I lived in Campion, he lived just a block away. He was a great friend and we spent a lot of time together. It was nice to be able to be together again like old times even if it was only for an hour or so. We reminisced about many things including our “muscle” cars; his six cylinder Ford Falcon and my Nash Metropolitan.

As we were leaving his place, he turned to me and said, “I need to apologize to you.  I was out of line”.  I wasn't sure what he was talking about.  It had been over 35 years since we had visited with each other.  I told him that even the best of friends disagree sometimes and all was forgiven.  I really had no recollection of a serious disagreement between us, but something had been eating at him for years.

I had forgiven him years ago and couldn't even remember what the disagreement was about.  It reminded me of the verses in Micah 7:18,19.  “Who is a God like You, Pardoning iniquity and passing over the transgression of the remnant of His heritage?  He does not retain His anger forever, Because He delights in mercy.  He will again have compassion on us, and will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea”.

God want to forgive us.  He longs to forgive us.  He wants to reconcile with us.

In Romans 5:10,11 the Bible tells us,  “For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life. And not only that, but we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received the reconciliation”.

Some versions use the phrase “restored our relationship” or “made us his friends” in place of reconciled.  God wants us to be his friends; he wants to restore our relationship.  He wants a reunion.

Just like I was a bit apprehensive before my high school reunion, sometimes we are apprehensive about a reunion with Jesus.  We know that we aren't worthy.

In Luke 15, Jesus tells the story of a man who has two sons. The younger son asks his father to give him an early inheritance. Once received, the son goes to a distant land and begins to waste his fortune on wild living. When the money runs out, the son finds himself in dire circumstances. He takes a job feeding pigs. He is so destitute that he even longs to eat the food the pigs eat.

The young man finally decides to return to his father and ask for forgiveness and mercy.  Realizing he is not worthy to be a part of the family he hatches a plan to ask to be a servant in his father’s house.

Let’s pick up the story in Luke 15:20, “And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

The son was focusing on how unworthy he was – and with good reason.  But all the father could think of was the reunion and how happy he was to have his son back.

Luke 15:22-24 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. And bring the fatted calf here and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ And they began to be merry”.

God wants a reunion, he wants reconciliation, and he wants to restore his relationship with you.  He wants to be your friend, but you have to come to the Father.  Don’t miss the reunion!

Mountain Meadows Massacre

M is for Mountain Meadows Massacre.  Recently as my wife and I have been studying our family histories I came across a historical event that I had never heard about before.  A couple of things struck me about this event.  It happened on September 11th and was one of the worst massacres in American history.  The date was September 11, 1857 and the place was Mountain Meadows in Southern Utah.

The story starts when Alexander Fancher and John T. Baker along with 140 men, women, and children and 40 wagons left Caravan Springs in northwest Arkansas and headed west to California. Their path took them through Utah.  Brigham Young, the leader of the Mormon Church and the territorial governor of Utah had forbidden the Mormons to sell anything to the wagon train.  He also declared that, "the Almighty recognized Utah as a free and independent people, no longer bound by the laws of the United States".  There was extreme distrust of any non Mormons by the Mormon people.

The Fancher Baker wagon train was a very rich one. It is said the emigrants had nearly nine hundred head of fine cattle, many horses and mules, and one stallion valued at $2,000; that they had a great deal of ready money besides. All this the Mormons at Salt Lake City saw as the train came through town. The Mormons knew that U.S. troops were marching to their country, and a spirit of intense hatred of the Americans and towards the U.S. Government was kindled in their hearts by Brigham Young, Orson Hyde, and other leaders, from the pulpits.

In early September, the wagon train made camp at a place called Mountain Meadows where there was grass and water for their horses and cattle.   On September 7, the group was attacked by Indians and the Mormon Militia disguised as Indians.  A child who survived the massacre said, "Our party was just sitting down to breakfast when a shot rang out from a nearby gully, and one of the children toppled over, hit by a bullet."   The shots came from forty to fifty Indians and Mormons.  The well-armed emigrants returned fire.  Soon the gun battle turned into a siege.

Over the next three days, Mormon reinforcements, continued to arrive at the scene of the siege.  William Dame, the head of the southern Mormon Militia,  was determined to not let the emigrants pass: "My orders are that all the emigrants, except the youngest children, must be done away with."

The siege was a standoff and continued for several days.  The commanders of the Mormon Militia came up with a treacherous plan for ending the stand-off.

On September 11, they marched across the field to the emigrants' camp waving a white flag.  When they reached the camp they promised that they could guarantee the emigrants' safety if they would agree to their terms. The desperate emigrants agreed to the terms: They would give up their arms, wagons, and cattle, in return for promise that they would would be taken past the Indians to safety in Cedar City.  They looked upon the Mormons as their saviors.  One of the wagons was loaded with the youngest children.  A woman and a few seriously injured emigrant men were loaded into a second wagon. Following the two wagons, the women and the older children walked behind.  An armed Mormon "guard" escorted each emigrant man.

When the escorted men had fallen a quarter mile or so behind the women and children, the command was given, "Halt!  Do your duty!" Each of the Mormon men shot and killed the emigrant at his side. Then they began the slaughter of the women and older children.  It was over in just a few minutes.  120 members of the wagon train were dead.  The militia did not kill some small children who were deemed too young to relate the story. None of the survivors was over seven years old.  The children were taken into Mormon homes. Once the story of the massacre got out, the relatives of the children made an attempt to get them back, but it took over two years and the help of the U. S. Army to return the children to their relatives.

Members of the militia were sworn to secrecy. A plan was set to blame the massacre on the Native Americans. This train was undoubtedly a very rich one. It is said the emigrants had nearly nine hundred head of fine cattle, many horses and mules.  They also had a great deal of money and gold besides.  Large amounts of their valuables and cattle were taken by the Mormons in Southern Utah. Some of the cattle were taken to Salt Lake City and sold or traded.The remaining personal property was taken to the tithing house at Cedar City and auctioned off to local Mormons.

Pictured here is Nancy, the only survivor of the Peter and Saleta Huff family.  The photo was taken at her wedding in January 1869.

Once news of the massacre began to trickle out, the nation was horrified.  Mark Twain wrote about it in his book "Roughing It".  "A large party of Mormons, painted and tricked out as Indians, overtook the train of emigrant wagons some three hundred miles south of Salt Lake City, and made an attack. But the emigrants threw up earthworks, made fortresses of their wagons, and defended themselves gallantly and successfully for five days! Your Missouri or Arkansas gentleman is not much afraid of the sort of scurvy apologies for "Indians" which the southern part of Utah affords. He would stand up and fight five hundred of them. At the end of the five days the Mormons tried military strategy. They retired to the upper end of the 'Meadows,' resumed civilized apparel, washed off their paint, and then, heavily armed, drove down in wagons to the beleaguered emigrants, bearing a flag of truce! When the emigrants saw white men coming they threw down their guns and welcomed them with cheer after cheer."

It was twenty years before anyone was convicted in the massacre. Because of Mormon control of the judicial system in Utah, no one was brought to justice. When the Federal government finally stepped in, John D. Lee was offered as a scapegoat, and was the only person convicted out of the estimated 50 to 70 Mormon participants.  Before he was executed at the Mountain Meadows Massacre site on March 23, 1877 he said,  "I had many to assist me at the Mountain Meadows. I believe that most of those who were connected with the Massacre, and took part in the lamentable transaction that has blackened the character of all who were aiders or abettors in the same, were acting under the impression that they were performing a religious duty. I know all were acting under the orders and by the command of their Church leaders; and I firmly believe that the most of those who took part in the proceedings, considered it a religious duty to unquestioningly obey the orders which they had received. That they acted from a sense of duty to the Mormon Church."

The terrible events of September 11, 1857 have a clear parallel to the terrible events of September 11, 2001.  It shows us that throughout history there have been people who believe their religion gives them the right to kill other people.  Just look back at the Salem Witch Trials, or the Inquisition, or the Crusades.  Although many times in history it has been Christian people who have been involved in these killings, true Christianity, following the teachings of Jesus, requires Christians to "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you", Luke 6:27

The Mountain Meadows Massacre is an important part of American history.  It amazes me that I had never heard of such an important event until recently.  I wonder why this story was not a part of any American history textbooks I studied.  I feel it is important to remember such events and realize how religion affected the outcome.

The ABC Wednesday Meme is a fun way to see some great blogs.

Class of 73

One week ago my wife and I attended our 40th High School reunion. We both attended Campion Academy in Loveland, Colorado and graduated in 1973.  It had been 30 years since we had been back for Alumni Weekend - we attended our ten year reunion.  As we pulled onto the campus of Campion Academy we were a bit nervous.  What would our old classmates be like?  Would we have anything in common?  Would we recognize them?  Would they recognize us?

As I parked the car and walked up to the registration table my apprehension was confirmed as I couldn't place the first person who spoke to me.  I'm so sorry, Ted.  Within just a few minutes all uneasiness melted away as old friends greeted us.  I was amazed as classmates bridged the forty years like it was no time at all. Conversations came easy even though I hadn't seen most of my classmates for at least thirty years.  

  

Classmates weren't the only people we reconnected with.  We also saw a number of people we had no idea we would see there.  The most fun for me was seeing Marlene Fernandez who attended the Fort Lupton SDA Church with her family when I was growing up.  It was great to see her and catch up on her family.  The extended Fernandez family were some of our closest friends during my childhood. 

Lunch for our class was provided by the current Junior Class of Campion Academy.  We had a great meal and continued our conversations.  

After the meal we gathered for a group photo.  There were 73 in our graduating class and 40 who made it to the reunion, an amazing percentage.  

During the afternoon we sat in a large circle and each person spent a few minutes telling about their lives after high school.  The most common topics seemed to be grandchildren and dogs.  It was a wonderful afternoon of reminiscing.  Some great stories were told and mysteries solved.  Six members of our class are no longer with us. We spent some time remembering each one of them.  As tired as we were of sitting in those chairs, no one seemed in a hurry to leave.  

That evening we gathered again in the home of Larry and Paula Howard and continued our conversations over a great meal from Qdobe Mexican Grille.  The day had been so wonderful that no one seemed to want to leave.  It was well after 11 before we said goodbye to old friends.  Promises were made to keep in touch, and I hope that we will.

The next morning we went to breakfast with friends not wanting the weekend to end.  It seemed like no time had passed and we always had Sunday morning breakfast together.

Before we left Loveland and headed back to Denver, I looked up my old friend, Vern Tscheuschner.  When I lived in Campion, he lived just a block away.  He was a great friend and we spent a lot of time together.  It was nice to be able to be together again like old times even if it was only for an hour or so.  We reminisced about many things including our muscle cars; Vern's six cylinder Ford Falcon and my Nash Metropolitan. 

I can't remember when I have had as much fun as I did on this trip to Colorado.  I wish all of my old friends, that is long time friends, the very best.

Lloyd Lawry

L is for Lloyd Lawry.  He was my uncle, my Daddy's half brother. When he retired he moved to Mena, Arkansas and lived there until he passed away.  I loved my Uncle Lloyd and enjoyed spending time with him.   He loved to play dominoes and we often played 42.  He was a serious Bible student and we spent many hours discussing the Bible.

One of my favorite memories if him involves wallpaper.  I knew that he had put up some wallpaper in his house, and I was wanting to wallpaper my daughters bedroom.  I asked for his help and he agreed. As I applied the wallpaper he gave me tips and directions.  Even though he didn't actually apply any of the wallpaper, he said several times, "I would never do this for money, only for love."

Uncle Lloyd had a number of interesting sayings.  If something was quite long he would say that it was longer than a well rope.  If someone was determined to do something he would say that they would do it if it hair lipped every goat in Texas.

Shortly before he passed away he compiled family stories, genealogy, obituaries, birth announcements, and some of his Bible studies.  He placed them in a notebook and gave me a copy.  In this notebook was a short life history he wrote.




LLOYD
written by Lloyd Lawry

I was born at my Aunt Cody's (Cora Hixson) June 9,1919. From one of Mama's letters I learned we lived in Mildred, Kansas in 1920. Daddy worked at the cement plant there.  We lived in Yates Center where Daddy ran a restaurant in 1924.  I remember living in Chanute, Kansas at some time with Mama when she and Daddy separated.  We all lived together in Wichita, Kansas where Daddy worked in an oil refinery, but by the time I was 6 they had separated. Mama and I were living alone by the time I started to school.

Mama told me some things I did when we were in Texas visiting her relatives: One time there was a jar of jalapeno peppers on the table and I kept asking for one thinking they were pickles. When I persisted she gave me one and I ate it without blinking an eye (when she knew it must be burning me up).  Another time there was a Ku Klux Klan parade, all of them in their white robes. I kept hollering, "which one is Grandpa", because I knew he was in the parade. Yet another time an old colored lady who had worked for the family for years shook hands with me and I looked closely at my hand after she shook it. She said, "Bless your little heart honey, it won't rub off."

Mama and I lived in Wichita, Kansas from just before I was six until she died shortly after my ninth birthday. For some time she worked as a waitress in a restaurant on 21st street. She made $12 a week, and got all of her meals and two meals a day for me. We lived in several different apartments, and after she married Marion Doyle we live in two different houses.

In the second grade I had a little red-headed freckle-face girl friend. We were so small we sat in one theater seat to watch the silent movie. Mama offered to give us an ice cream cone if I would bring her in the restaurant, but I wouldn't do it because I knew they would tease me.

One Christmas I was in a program where I had to say, "These grapes from far Italy's vine the children of Italy send, and greetings as glad as of yore they keep for their Christmas friend." Mama bought a huge bunch of grapes thinking I would bring them home after the program and we could share them. However, I ate them all as I watched the rest of the program.

For Christmas 1927 Mama made an imitation fireplace with cardboard, box and spread my presents around it. Among other things she got me the books Little Women, Little Men, Penrod, and Penrod
and Sam. She said in a letter to Grandma Lawry that I had read them and understood them.

When it was obvious to the adults that Mama would soon die, Daddy came and got me and took me home with him to Buffville. This was just after school was out in the spring of 1928. I had a good time fishing and swimming with the boys in Buffville, but one day Daddy came down to the shale pit where we were swimming, took me in his arms and said, "Mama's gone."

My sister Opal was a tiny baby and Daddy needed to get me to Wichita for mama's funeral, so he arranged with my Aunt Cody to put me aboard the train she was taking to Wichita. He took me to Yates Center to put me on the train, but she wasn't on it! He finally put me on the train anyway and I went to Wichita by myself . We later learned the train I was on was a special train and the one Aunt Cody was on came a little later. When I got to Wichita I tugged my heavy suitcase to the taxi cab and told the driver the address. He took me to the house where Mama had died.  I never did like Marion Doyle but my heart went out to him at Mama's funeral, because he cried as if his heart was being torn out of his body.

I went back to live with Daddy and Hazel at Buffville. For many nights I cried myself to sleep mourning for my mother.  Hazel was real good to me, but I wasn't very nice to her for several years.  I was happy fishing, swimming and hunting with the Buffville boys, but then when I was 12 we rented a house on a farm and it was quite lonely with no one to play with.

We continued to rent a house on some farm as long as I was home. After I graduated Glen Boyer and I hitch-hiked to Western Kansas and shocked wheat for several farmers. We would be out in the field just as the sun came up and didn't quit in the evening until the sun went down. We made $2.00 a day, and I got home with $13.

I joined the Civilian Conservation Corp later in the summer of 1937 and spent 23 months there.  I got $30 a month, $5 in cash and the rest sent to my foIks. After 13 months I became assistant leader and got $36 a month.  After I got out in June 1939, Toby Boyer and I hitch-hiked to Colorado looking for work. We couldn't find any so hitch-hiked back home again.

Connie Schultheiss and I hitch-hiked to Dumas, Texas hunting for work but couldn't find any so started to hitch-hike back to Kansas. We were standing in a sleet storm with cars flying by us when I bet Connie a chicken fried steak dinner the next car would pick us up. He took me up on it and sure enough the next car picked us up and took us all the way to Wichita, Kansas. The only bad part was I had to sit in the back seat with a huge German Shepherd dog!  At least I got the chicken fried steak dinner.

We hitch-hiked home from Wichita. In the early spring of 1940 Connie and I drove his Model A Ford to Riverside, California taking the famous "Route 66" highway. He found a job picking oranges, but I couldn't find one. I hitch-hiked up the coast of California and through Oregon to visit Uncle Johnny Lawry.  I would buy a bus ticket and ride all night, because it was cheaper than a hotel. I finally hitch-hiked back down to Riverside and Connie and I started up the coast in the Model A, but it burnt up.

We decide to ride freight trains back to Kansas. Going out of California we were about 5 cars back of the engine on top of a car when we went through a tunnel. The smoke almost smothered us, so after we got out of the tunnel we moved farther back on the train. We got off the train on one side of Las Vegas, walked through town and caught another freight train on the other side of town.  We got off in Ogden, Utah and spent the night, then rode another freight train to Omaha, Nebraska. We hitch-hiked home to Kansas from there.

The family moved to Poplar Bluff, Missouri, where we lived with Jessie and John Borton in a three-roomed house.  In early 1941 I hitch-hiked to Altoona, Kansas and then to Cooper, Texas where I stayed with Eileen and Charles Wright until Doris and Bill Robertson came and took me to Dallas with them. This ended my hitch-hiking days.

Since my employment with Braniff International covered all but eight months of the period from March 1941 until June 1981, I felt that an account of my tour of duty might be of some interest.  I went to work for Braniff Airways the last part of March 1941 for $70 a month. Since the only other job I had worked at was as an elevator operator for $12.50 a week, I felt that f had it made.

I almost lost the Braniff job because I missed one day, occasioned by the loss of the badge they gave me to get in the gate. They were already tightening security in anticipation of World War II.  I was living with Dorris and Bill Robertson at the time, and we decided that their colored maid must have taken the badge.  When I went back the next day Braniff gave me another badge and all was well.

I had to move to a boarding house when I was assigned to the 12 midnight to 8 A. M. shift. It was a miserable time for me because it was in the middle of a hot summer. I had only a little 8 inch noisy fan to keep me cool while I slept, so I never got much sleep.  The boarding house landlady fed me three meals a day, but the lunch she sent for me was a half of a sandwich and some cookies or fruit.  I worked at the main stock room by myself, my main job being to take parts to the line service stockroom when they requested them by telephone. Between times I filed purchase orders, often falling asleep on the act of filing one. One night I left the windows down on the car used to carry parts to the line service stockroom and it got soggily wet from a hard rain.

When I got on the day shift it was easier. I established a financial plan where I paid the landlady $15 every two weeks for room and board, bought a two weeks supply of streetcar/bus tokens, sent $20 a month home to the folks, and blew the rest of the $34.65 I was paid every two weeks.  Streetcar/bus tokens were 5 cents a piece. I rode the street car to downtown Dallas and transferred to a bus for the ride to Love Field. We would, in 1941, go by cotton fields between downtown and Love Field.

At that time Braniff's main office was in Oklahoma City and our pay checks were often two or three days late.  After Pearl Harbor many of the men I worked with volunteered or were drafted into military service. I was 4F and didn't have to go. Braniff began to hire a bunch of new people and I began to serve a sort of supervisor role (without any pay increase).  I especially had to help the women fit into our work routine.

In 1944 the work schedule for July was posted showing me working Sunday for the second month in a row. I told my boss I wouldn't work it. I didn't, but had to quit to avoid it. He told me I did fine work, but he didn't like my attitude. The personnel manager told me I would never work for Braniff again. Boy was he wrong!

In the next few months I worked for Air Associates, carried U. S. Mail, worked for a sporting goods company, and for Devoe and. Reynolds Paint Company.  In March 1945, I went back out to Braniff with a sort of a "hat in my hand" attitude and told my former boss I would like to go back to work for Braniff. By that time good help was so hard to get that he went to the personnel manager and persuaded him to re-hire me. This time the job was permanent, as it lasted to June 30, 1981.




The ABC Wednesday Meme is a fun way to see some great blogs.

Kansas

K is for Kansas. My Dad grew up in and around Altoona, Kansas.  He still has lots of family in the area. Last weekend he went back to attend a cousins 50th wedding anniversary. Here he is with the group of first cousins who were in attendance.

While he was there he was given a story written by my second cousin, Toni Ehrardt. The story takes place during the Great Depression and centers around two little girls. Here is a photo of those two little girls today.

                                  IRENE AND HENRIETTA


Mother's Christmas Program
by Toni Ehrardt

My mother,Irene Dannels Woolery was born in 1925 on a small farm near Altoona, Kansas. Times weren't easy at the Dannel's Place nor most other places for that matter. I remember my mother telling me that most of the time, the family had a nice Christmas dinner of baked chicken, dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, hot rolls and pumpkin pie. Possibly, they had gingerbread, fudge and mady taff. I'm just guessing they had milk, water or home-made cider to drink.

For Christmas, the kids, (my mom and her sisters and brothers), usually got a nickel, an orange, and some gift my grandparents made for them. For example, my grandpa made little tractors out of spools and rubber bands and my grandma made rag dolls or teddy bears and made outfits for them.

The family went to cut down a Christmas tree and decorated their tree with popcorn, little ornaments they made at home, church, or school and possibly with little pieces of ribbon or bits of lace. They went to school and church programs and especially enjoyed those things as well as big family dinners with lots of cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles.

Times, of course, got even rougher in the 1930's. I remember my mother telling me that my Grandma Zenella Reeve Dannels, had one dress and one pair of overalls. Naturally, the girls didn't have many clothes either but somewhere around 1939 when my mom was about 14, my grandma promised the girls (My mom, Irene and my aunt, Henrietta, who were still in school that she would make them both a nice Christmas dress for their Christmas program at Buffville School.

My mother always loved clothes and shoes, so she was in a rush to get home from school that day to see the dresses that my grandmother, an adequate and basic seamstress, had made for her and Etta. So the two girls hurried in on that cold Winter day anxious to see their new dresses.

The girls ran to my grandmother and asked, "Where are the dresses you made for us for the School Program? My grandmother replied, "I'm sorry, girls. I simply didn't have the time to make any dresses for you. You'll just have to do with your best dress this time. I'm sorry."

My Aunt Henrietta didn't get so upset but my mother was absolutely devastated. She had imagined a new red velvet dress and she was practically sick that my grandmother hadn't made dresses for them. She was mad too, because my grandmother had definitely promised the girls new dresses for this event, which was one of the most important programs of the season.

About that time, the girls heard a car coming and a car horn honking, honking, honking. They ran to see who it was because they weren't expecting anybody and they also had to hurry to get washed up and primped for the program. They were a little surprised to see their oldest brother, Walter Dannels, and his cute young wife, Stelline (Hoobler) Dannels, coming in the door carrying boxes.

"Are you two coming to our Christmas program?" my Mom asked.  "Sure are!" Walter said, grinning. "Now you two girls better hurry and get all fixed up so I won't be so embarrassed that you're my little sisters!" "Come on," Stelline told the two younger girls. "Now get in there and I'll help you fix your hair!"

All three of the girls crowded into the girls' bedroom and my Mom asked, "Hey, Stelline, what's in the box?"  "Never you mind. Just get your school clothes off and hang them up. And you need to hurry. I've made some sandwiches and cookies for us to eat".  Then Stelline started opening the boxes. She pulled out two of the prettiest dresses my Mom and Aunt Etta had ever seen.

"Oh, Stelline, Thank you! Thank you! We had no idea you were making us Christmas dresses! Oh, they're so pretty!"  "I just love mine, too. They are so cute and stylish. Thank you!"  "Now stop blubbering and get those dresses on," Walter hollered.

The two girls got the dresses on, and they fit perfectly. Stelline also whipped a comb and brush through their hair and sprayed on a tad of Evening in Paris perfume. "You two girls will be the belles of the ball" she told them smiling at their happy excited faces.

About that time my grandparents came in with some eggs and a milk pail to leave in the cellar. "You two girls sure look nice!" my Grandma said. "Wasn't it nice of Stelline to make your Christmas dresses when I really couldn't find the time."

My Grandpa Earl Dannels said, "You girls look dandy. I'm really going to feel proud tonight!" "Oh Stelline, you've made this the best Christmas Program ever!" the two girls said, smiling widely.



Note from Toni Ehrhardt: My Aunt Stelline (Hoobler) Dannels passed away in 1968, much too young. She had a special talent of looking at a dress and the person who wanted it and sewing it up in no time. Everything she made looked like it came from Vogue. She also was a very good cook. I remember especially that she made wonderful Turkey Pie. She is sadly missed by her children and family.

Stelline Elizabeth Hoobler was born November 30, 1916 in Jasper, Alabama and died May 13, 1968. She was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, El Centro, California . She married Walter Louis Dannels December 4, 1935 in Erie, Kansas. He was born April 24, 1914 in Altoona, Kansas and died August 19, 1998. He was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, El Centro, California.

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