It's Up to Us

Since the terrible tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, there have been a lot of posts about a variety of related issues. I believe in conversation and debate and that starts with people being honest and saying what they think, so thank you if you’ve been part of those conversations, whether we agree or not. I certainly don't have all the answers, or maybe any of the answers, but there are several things that have been said or implied lately that I think lead us down the wrong path.

Please don't believe...that prevention of mass shootings is all about guns, mental health, or any one issue. Those are all important but complex problems are solved with multifaceted solutions and take years.

Please don't believe…that it's only up to lawmakers to fix things. Are there businesses selling products that you believe contribute to this problem? Boycott them now, voice your support for those making good decisions, and look at where your retirement and other funds are invested. We can start affecting this issue now.

Please don't believe…that mentally ill people are always violent and that violent people are always mentally ill. Mentally ill people are much more likely to be victims of violence because of their differences or turn their anguish on themselves.

Please don't believe...that we can slash community and school mental health resources that educate, prevent, and treat with no consequences. There are thousands of parents with kids who they know have serious problems but the way our system is structured means they usually can’t get needed, long-term residential treatment until the kid hurts someone.

Please don't believe...that prayer doesn't exist in schools. The Constitution guarantees kids' rights to pray, wear religious clothing or jewelry, form faith-based organizations, and otherwise exercise their faith. Prayer in school exists, but only if we teach our children to do it.

Please don't believe...that only sweeping, large-scale solutions count. We can all help prevent feelings of alienation in others by reaching out to those who are different, who are struggling, or who we don’t understand and let them know we care or that they are not alone.

Just Your Average Tuesday

Eat breakfast: check.
Get dressed: check.
Put on superhero mask to help fight crime: check.
Just your average Tuesday at our house.

The Katie Chronicles: Post-Turkey Edition

Me: Katie, didn't Daddy make a good breakfast for us?
Katie: Yes! When I grow up, I'm going to marry a man who can cook good.
Me: Good plan.

Later, we saw a commercial where they said someone's grandma was slow.
Katie: It's OK if older people are slow. Sometimes their bones get squishy and they need to walk slow.

After that...
Katie: Mommy, I'm going to be a babysitter when I grow up. When can I start babysitting?
Me: Hmmm.....maybe 12? 
Katie: 12?!? That's OLD! I'll be a grandma by then!

Today's Random Thoughts, Notre Dame Edition

Why is the famous cathedral in Paris pronounced "Notruh Dom" and the university in Indiana pronounced "Noter Dame"? Also, why are the sports teams from a university with a distinctly French name known as "the Fighting Irish"? Instead of a pugnacious leprechaun, shouldn't their mascot be, like, an angry French chef or something? Possible fight song lyrics would be, "Sacre bleu! Sacre bleu! We will turn your hollandaise into rancid poo poo!" Notre Dame officials, I'll await your call to engage my consulting services.

Asheville Adventure: Tadpole Woodstock

Fishergirl Katie

Our kids are too young for ziplines, so what else can we do in the beautiful North Carolina woods on our final full day? Fishing, of course! The kids have both fished on camping trips, but this would still be fun, so day five's adventure was drowning some worms at the Buck Creek Trout Farm about 45 minutes east of Asheville. We got there about 10 am and we didn't have reservations because the website said they weren't necessary. No one was there and we didn't have mobile service up in the mountains so we couldn't call the number we had for them. Thankfully, we remembered Elliot's Trout Farm that we'd passed just down the way. A quick jaunt had us there and getting some poles and corn to fish in a nice little trout pond. As we got set up, we walked all around the small pond to scope the place out and saw the Woodstock of tadpoles clustered in the shallow water on one side. We also saw a big, green frog staring up at us from about a foot underwater. He didn't look too happy to see us.

There were rules for fishing, mostly about about parents supervising their children and that you must take what you catch (no catch and release). They were neatly handwritten on a sign and we complied with all of them, I hope. I wish I'd taken a picture of the sign. This place was the real deal: Just a guy running a fishing experience. No corporate-style signs or rules, nothing was slick or homogeneous. I loved it!



Ethan with his first catch

We didn't get a quick bite so we switched to night crawlers and, in about 15 minutes, Katie and I had the first catch of the day landed on the bank. Then we had a long dry spell, with rainbow trout swimming around, jumping out of the pond, and basically teasing us, but not biting. They eventually gave into the temptation of the delectable night crawlers, though. We stayed for a couple of hours and caught four fish, each one being greeted with squeals of excitement from the kids.

Mr. Jim ran the place and he looked like a mountain man from Hollywood central casting. He had a beat up hat, a chest-length beard, smoked Paul Malls, and was extremely nice. He was a little shy and soft spoken but responded to me chatting with him. I discovered he's originally from Montana and we talked about learning to fish with our dads when we were kids (actually, mine was my stepdad). He knew the people who ran the Buck Creek place up the road and spoke highly of his competitors, which says a lot. When I had early success but then didn't get any more bites, he took me to two other smaller ponds that I don't think were really for fishing. I think he was just being nice. When I put the worm right into the middle of a school of about 100 trout with no bites, that was the sign he was waiting for. He declared that it had just gotten too hot to fish. We'd caught four by then, so that was enough for us. I called the kids over to the smaller ponds where he'd taken me to see about 150 baby frogs newly transitioned from the tadpole stage.


Katie and Daddy with her fish

At Elliot's Trout Farm, you only paid by the pount for what you caught, so two hours of educational fun -- including lessons in the importance of patience and being quiet -- with poles, a net, a bucket for the catch, and bait for four people cost us $14.40. We finally stopped because we'd caught enough for dinner and the heat wave washing across the east coast was making itself known about noon.

On the way home, we stopped for some refreshment and got some Cheerwine, a burgandy-colored Southern soda. It was a first for the kids and they loved it. We also learned that Pepsi originated in North Carolina, as did Cheerwine. Given that Coke started in Georgia and Dr. Peoper started in Texas, I think it's safe to say we love our sweet, fizzy drinks down South.

After going to the cottage to clean the fish, lunch was at a local place, then nap time, then hot tub. We had planned the whole day around the trout fishing, buying ingredients to grill the trout and making side dishes, but Rome discovered that the grill didn't work when everything was in process. I guess we should have checked it, but the cottage was so meticulously maintained that it didn't cross our minds. So...we chilled the trout to take home and punted for dinner, cooked in house.

We had planned to go into Asheville after dinner for a well known drum circle they have downtown which is a sight to see, apparently, but it was just too darn hot. So, after a day of adjusting plans, we had a relaxed evening around the blessedly cool cottage and enjoyed our last few hours in our temporary home.  We left the next morning, grateful for our time in western North Carolina and with each other.

Asheville Adventure: Summertime Teeth

Day four dawned cool and found us departing early once again for calm water rafting on the French Broad river with the appropriately named French Broad Rafting. The minimum age for white water rafting ranges from eight to sixteen, depending on the class of rapids. Jerome has done a fair amount of white water rafting and I have done a little, and we both loved it. But since Katie was too young for any true white water, and we didn't know if either child would like being on the river, we decided to ease them in with some Class I-II rapids on this trip. 

We had an easy drive up into the mountains, and met our French Broad Rafting support staff member, Shane. Shane had waist-length blond hair and was friendly, even though our kids were wound up with excitement and running circles around everyone. He and our guide were on-time, organized, and professional, the equipment was well-maintained, and we got right in the water. It was almost chilly that morning, which was nice. Our guide, Dwayne, was a student at UNC-Wilmington (marine biology major, natch), although he was home in Asheville for the summer. Dwayne was a pale face like Ethan and me. (I don't tan, I beige; actually the whole cycle is white, red, beige, then white again.) Dwayne put sunscreen on his face and hands and then covered himself from head to toe. He wore a bandanna tied and placed around his ears and hooked over the bill of his cap, a long-sleeved shirt, pants over his shorts and socks with his Tevas. I think this is the "abstinence only" version of sun prevention.

Katie and Ethan (who can always
find a stick or a rock) getting ready for the trip.

In addition to doing a lot of the paddling, Dwayne also educated us. He told us about the area fauna, some real -- such as blue herons and trout -- and some imaginary -- like the swimming river bears that live in the rock caves on the river and North Carolina sipping trees that tip over to get a drink from the river and rise back up at night. (These were actually trees that had fallen over into the river). The kids were amazed at the tall tales and it added to the trip. Dwayne also taught the kids basic safety, such as not standing up in the river if you fall out of the raft, lest you get your foot wedged in rocks. (Broken ankles can be a bit of a bummer.) They also had lessons in how to row properly, specifically how to always keep your hand on the T grip at the top of the paddle to avoid hitting others. Dwayne told them this was to avoid giving others "summertime teeth" -- "summer" time they are in your mouth and "summer" time they are in the river if someone doesn't control their paddle well.

We were the only people in this raft and we didn't see another person on the river the whole time, which was wonderful. Well, we did see one person "sleeping" -- "sleeping it off" would probably be more accurate -- on a beachy area near a camp ground but otherwise it was our group and the river the whole way. Despite the lack of fellow rafters, we had an animal friend who accompanied us. A blue heron tracked us down the river; flying, landing and looking for food, then taking off around the time we passed her.

Despite the cool temperatures, we stopped a couple of times for swimming. The water was cold and the kids and Dwayne were the only ones who got in. No one stayed in long. On one of the stops, we had a little early lunch. We had packed PB&J for all and, I must say, as an adult you forget how good that combo is, especially when eaten while immersed in beautiful scenery.

The river was a little low in spots and we got stuck a few times. Ethan and Katie loved this, for some reason. Dwayne, who had to get out and drag us off the rocks, didn't love it as much but he had a good attitude about it. I'm pretty sure he did it intentionally once after he figured out the kids liked it so much. The kids also loved the "rapids" we went over in deeper sections -- wheeeee!! -- so a future trip to the Ocoee in Georgia is on the agenda for when Katie turns eight.

Isaac, Hef wants another scotch.

We came back to the cottage for a second lunch and nap time. Post nap was more hot tub time, surprising given that it was forecast to be over 100 that day. The tub was on a shaded deck and was still lovely despite the warm temperatures. For some reason, hot tubs always make me feel like I should be sipping a fruity cocktail and chatting with Hugh Hefner on the Love Boat, but alas, Hef and Isaac bearing refreshments were nowhere to be found.


After drying off, we journeyed back into Asheville to eat at another highly touted restaurant, the Early Girl Eatery. It's another place that makes a big deal about its fresh, local, farm-to-table approach and it's another place where none of that showed in the food, at least at our table. Ethan and I ate about half of our choices and Jerome and Katie each ate about 1/3. The service was OK, with no comment from the server about the amount of food remaining on our plates. If they care about your experience, most restaurant staff will inquire if they notice large amounts of uneaten food, so this was surprising. Oh well.



After our disappointing dinner, we were still hungry and decided to seek out some dessert to fill up on. The Early Girl is near the Grove Arcade, a lovely old precursor to the shopping mall that has many shops and is enclosed but with skylights all along the top.  We strolled in, admiring the marble wall panels and looking for a treat.  Ethan was a bit disappointed, because he thought we were going to play video games.  The Grove has many unique, locally-owned shops, bars, and restaurants, but the shops were all closed, so it was back out to continue our search.

Building detail we saw on our stroll

Earlier in the week, we had passed a candy shop on the trolley tour. The trolley stopped and rang their bell, and the Kilwin's Chocolates staff brought out samples. The samples ran out before they got to us in the back of the trolley but we thought that was a nice (and savvy) gesture, so we went in search of that shop. When we found it, the kids had ice cream -- Ethan had "Superman" flavor that was very brightly multi-colored with a flavor that I couldn't identify, but he loved it -- and we had candy, all of which was delicious. We had hoped to get into the Woolworth's building that still had a working soda fountain but it, like almost all the other stores in this section of downtown, were closed. That seemed odd for 6.15 pm on a Thursday in the high tourist season but we got what we came for and we got to stroll around a section of Asheville that was interesting, with unique shops and beautiful old buildings. The kids got to pet about 50 dogs along the way, as it is a very dog-friendly community with people-friendly locals who were happy to share some canine love with us.

Soon, it was time to go home and it had become clear that a theme for our days had emerged: a fun trip into the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, an adventure provider that provided excellent service and fun, all topped with a sweet ending.

Asheville Adventure: Happy Trails

Ethan on Babe, his first horse ride.

One of the joys of vacation is letting the sun be your alarm clock...but some things are worth getting up for. On our third day, it was an amazing 60 degrees when we left about 8 am, which was wonderful given the hot temperatures earlier. We left that early for a 9 am trail ride at Wolf Laurel Stables, about 50 minutes north of Asheville. This was Ethan and Katie's first time on a horse, so the excitement level was high. We drove up into the Blue Ridge Mountains to a lovely place deep in the woods. The staff were welcoming and friendly, and the horses were well cared for and also friendly. We had a lovely, shaded ride along a rocky, wooded trail. Much of it was beside a chatty creek, which we got to cross and water the horses at about mid-way through. We even saw a few rhododendrons, which usually bloom earlier in the spring. These were a little past their prime but still pretty. One hour was perfect for Rome and I, who had riding experience but hadn't been in the saddle in a long time, and for the kids' first time. At the end of the ride, the farrier was there shoeing a horse and he let us watch him for a bit, while I explained to the kids about horse hooves and shoes.

Katie and I enjoyed our time with Grace.

We drove back and used the iPad to find a playground on the way back to the cottage. We discovered one at an elementary school about 2 miles from the cottage and the weather was perfect for the kids to have an hour of playtime before lunch. Lunch was sandwiches back at homebase and then naptime for all, adults included.

Pack Square and Splasheville

After naps, we got up and dressed for the evening's activities: A trip to Pack Square park downtown so the kids could splash in the wading fountain -- also known as Splasheville -- dinner at the Lexington Avenue Brewery (The Lab), and a special treat dessert at French Broad Chocolates. The latter two were recommended by a friend, Liz Rachun, for which we are grateful. She has great taste! We left at what should have been rush hour but, as near as we can tell, this doesn't exist in Asheville (we had noted that in the morning as well). What a welcome change from car-clogged Atlanta! At Pack Square, we immediately found a great parking spot on the street and also found a shady spot to sit while the kids played in the fountains. After they tired of that, we dried them off, changed their clothes -- I'm pretty sure some folks eating dinner outdoors got a quick flash of Katie bottom -- and took a quick walk to The Lab for some craft beer and some delectable food. Jerome had the Magic Carpet pilsner and I had a Belgian witbier. Both were delicious. For dinner, I had the grilled tomato gazpacho and a Caesar salad, the kids had chicken fingers, and Rome had Mongolian beef soft tacos. My gazpacho was out of this world...fresh and chunky with just the right amount of spice. The Caesar salad was good and peppery. Jerome said his tacos were more peanut-Thai than Mongolian but were a mouthwatering fusion of west coast Mexican and Asian nonetheless. The kids chowed down on their chicken strips and we snagged a couple of Ethan's french fries, which were spectacular.


A quick walk down Lexington Avenue took us to our final stop of the night and our treat for the kids. OK, it was as much a treat for me as them but we told them it was for them. If you go to Asheville and like chocolate, a trip to French Broad Chocolates is a must. I had the chocolate truffle torte, which was just heavenly....moist, dense, and rich. I needed a moment alone after eating it. Katie had a chocolate pot de creme, which I also had a few bites of. It was like Betty Crocker fudge frosting, only made with fresh ingredients and immeasurably better. Jerome had the maple batter cake (yes, they have some non-chocolate items), which was very good. Ethan had mango sorbet, which was light and fresh. They also have coffee, tea, drinking chocolate (isn't that just a fancy name for hot chocolate?), beer, and wine but we just had dessert. A quick walk and we were back to the car and home for bedtime. The dinner and dessert were the culinary highlights of the trip, so thanks again, Liz!

Asheville Adventure: A Chimney, a Devil, and the Stairs of Death

The top of Chimney Rock

On our first full day in Asheville, we got up and got ready in a leisurely fashion. Ahhh, vacation time. Then, we headed out to Chimney Rock State Park, which is a local rock formation in the blue Ridge Mountains, so more ear burping was in store. It's called Chimney Rock because it is about 26 stories tall and sticks up like, yes, a chimney, without attachment to the mountain right behind it. You can take the stairs up to the top or a very quick elevator. In a burst of optimism/delusion, we considered the stairs....then looked at the five year old and hit the elevator. Right choice. After the 30 second ride up, we climbed some stairs and there we were: gorgeous 360 degree views of the lush forest carpeting peaks and valley alike. We also had great views of nearby Lake Lure, where Dirty Dancing was filmed. We learned that several movies have been filmed near Asheville, most recently The Hunger Games. It was a beautiful, clear day and the Blue Ridge Mountains had their typical blue haze. There was fresh mountain breeze that cooled us off. Splendid.

Devil's Head

We had read about Chimney Rock itself but we were pleasantly suprised to find many other sights in the same park. Continuing up the mountain from Chimney Rock, we took the Skyline Trail, a rather strenous climb up 150 feet to another formation called Exclamation Point, which offered even higher views. Along the way, we stopped at two other formations. Devil's Head was just a stopping place on the the trail where you could see a big ol' devil scowling out over the valley. Opera Box was a low-ceilinged, balcony-like formation a little further up from the devil. Then on to Exclamation Point at the top. After cooling off, we descended back to Chimney Rock. At that point, we were still 26 stories up and encountered the same elevator vs. stairs choice as before. This time we chose to take the stairs all the way down. Thankfully, the stairs had little nooks so you to stop and rest or take a photo, allowing others to pass you. Taking the stairs was fun but our legs were quivering when we got to the bottom. The kids did suprisingly well with the rocky, steep terrain and the stairs of death.
 

The stairs of death

When we got to the bottom, Rome ducked in a gift shop to look for a state park patch -- we're collecting them as we visit -- while the kids and I stayed outside and listened to John Mason, a friendly hammer dulcimer player who was there playing and selling his CDs. His music was beautiful and he asked for requests. I was at a bit of a loss -- do I ask for Stairway to Heaven, which seemed appropriate? -- but ultimately, we requested Carol of the Bells (Christmas in June, of course!) and Precious Memories. My mom used to sing the latter while she was cleaning or cooking, but she would only sing, "Precious memories....how they linger." I have no idea how the rest of it goes but Mr. Mason did.

We went out of the park for a quick lunch. The fare was just some average diner food, but the restaurant was also a bakery and it smelled how the kitchen of heaven must smell, heavy with pound cake scented deliciousness. The table where we sat had a large checkers set, so the kids had fun playing until the food arrived. Of course there were the usual reminders to Katie that you can't make up your own rules for moving the pieces (yes, she's definitely my child). After fortifying ourselves with lunch and sweet tea (and Tylenol for Jerome...those biking knees were protesting), the very friendly park staff welcomed us back for another hike after lunch.

Hickory Nut Falls

Next up was the Hickory Nut Falls Trail, which took us about 30 minutes in on moderate terrain, much easier than the combination moutain climb/hike we did earlier. The reward at the end was a 404 foot waterfall made famous in The Last of the Mohicans, which was filmed in the area. We were thoroughly tired when we hiked back and got to the car. After a quick stop for ice cream, we were glad to get to the cottage and hop into the hot tub for a luxurious post-hike dip. You're welcome, leg muscles.

We were tired -- correction, the parents were tired...the kids were refreshed and ready to run a marathon -- so dinner was pizza, pasta, and parmesan (eggplant and chicken) delivered from a local place whose menu was on the fridge in our cottage. The food was good but the delivery was a bit of an adventure. The person who took Rome's order quizzed him about local cross streets and many other things we visitors just don't know. Jerome suggested Mapquest, but the guy said they "don't do the computer thing" and said he'd leave the restaurant to find one to use. After calling us five more times (yes, five...at least he was persistent), we got the food and it was still hot. The guy cheerfully told Rome on the last call that he didn't look for the street names or number we'd given him, even though we'd gone out to our GPS to get him some streets to look for. Hey, we wanted local color and we'd met a local character, obviously, but he was friendly and the food was delicious. We enjoyed our dinner and relaxed into the evening, grateful for another lovely day in Asheville.

Asheville Adventure: My Ears are Burping

Last year's vacation was a bit involved for a family with two small kids -- several days in Puerto Rico and a cruise to the southern Caribbean. It was lots of fun, but this year we wanted something simpler and something with mountains, so we decided to go to North Carolina. We started our trip with a quick, three hour drive from Atlanta to Asheville, arriving about noon. As we drove up into the Blue Ridge Mountains, our ears begin to pop and Ethan announced that his ears were burping, thus creating the first family joke of the trip. We had rented a cottage from Asheville Cottages (ours was called, appropriately, Blue Ridge) and our check-in time was not until 4 pm, so upon arriving in town, we headed straight to lunch. A friend had recommended the Mellow Mushroom downtown as interesting for the kids because it had a tree growing up out of it, so we headed there. We didn't see a tree actually in the building, although there was one in an outdoor waiting area. It was a bit more authentically funky than most Mellow Mushrooms, with bowling balls embedded in the outdoor rock fencing, day glo painted dough makers (retired from the kitchen?) as sculptures, and so on.



Ethan and Katie enjoying some chips and the view

We had seen The Gourmet Potato Chip Company on the walk to the MM, serving homemade kettle chips with a variety of tasty toppings, so we decided for a post-lunch chip treat. Jerome had the Southern BBQ which had a 12 spice barbecue seasoning. Like a good barbecue sauce, it was spicy and sweet and yummy. I had The Italiano, with chips coated with sun dried tomato, pecorino romano cheese, fresh chopped basil, toasted garlic, and sea salt. The counter attendant upsold me to their basalmic reduction as an extra topping and boy was she right. It was very tasty. I was a little concerned about the basil overwhelming things but it was perfectly spiced and the freshness add a very nice layer to the flavors. We offered our chips to the kids but they are not adventurous eaters so they stuck with their plain chips.



Beautiful house with a great story (a faked death)

Rome and I like to get someplace new and get the overview before jumping in to specifics. So next we took a quick drive up Broadway, into Biltmore Village. After getting a sense of the place, we went to -- where else? -- the very nice Asheville visitor's center to take a Grayline Trolley Tour of Asheville. It took a couple of hours and the breeze kept us pretty cool in the open air car for most of the trip. Asheville has some lovely old homes in the Montford neighborhood, with those sleeping porches you see in gracious old Southern homes. We saw a lot of Queen Anne architecture, with a good amount of Italianate and even a couple of English stone manor-styles, and of course many had interesting stories attached, with a liberal sprinking of F. Scott and Zelda Fitgerald lore sprinkled in. In the "who knew?" category, we learned that the actor who played the judge on Night Court lives in Asheville, although his historic house is not on the tour.


English stone manor-style house


After we finished the tour, we checked into our cottage and were very happy with it. Since we have kids, we usually rent a condo or small house when we travel. Most hotels don't seem to have adjoining rooms anymore and houses provide you with a kitchen, a washer/dryer, and (usually) quiet neighborhoods. It's usually cheaper or the same cost as two hotel rooms, believe it or not. This one was no exception and I highly recommend it. It's spotless, newly updated, attractively decorated, and the owners have really put a lot of thought into the details. There are thick robes, a great hot tub, incredibly soft sheets on the king-sized, Sleep Number master bed, a breakfast basket for the first day (coffee, tea, muffins, oatmeal, etc.), and toiletry packages for each bathroom with nice products. It was not centrally located but Asheville isn't large and most of the things we're doing are out in the mountains, so that's no problem.

Dinner was at the highly touted Tupelo Honey (actually their "south" location). The atmosphere felt like a chain restaurant, which is OK, except we were looking for local color. I had a local craft beer (Wee Heavy-er Scottish Style Ale by French Broad Brewing Company) that was good. Jerome's Firecracker Pale Ale was much hoppier than promised and only OK. The food was overpriced ($75 for two adults and two kids) for the quality. They make a big deal of their fresh, farm to table fare -- you hear a lot of that in Asheville, and we were looking forward to it -- but mine sure didn't taste fresh. Jerome had the rootbeer and molasses pork tenderloin and it was tender but had none of the flavor you'd expect from the title. My vegetable bowl -- goat cheese grits, blackeyed peas, sauteed greens, fried okra, and some chopped vegetables on top, was only OK and very small. The service was wonderful: personable, knowledgeable, and attentive. Oh well...every meal can't be fabulous.

All in all, we had adjusted to the ear burping and had a lovely start to our trip.

I Still Have the Shoes

April 19, 1995 was a beautiful Oklahoma spring day, sunny, blue skies, lovely.  I had on one of my favorite dresses, so I was smiling a little bit more than usual that day.  I had been at work for about an hour and a half when it happened.  At first we thought it was an accident.  The possibility that a person opened this door to hell didn’t even occur as a possibility.  The questions started when that realization started to crack open our minds to the fact that a person caused it:  Why?  There was a daycare there.  Who would kill kids? Why?  These things happen in other parts of the world, not here.  Then we thought about the people we knew.   In those days before cell phones were common, most of us ran for a landline and spent frantic minutes trying to track down loved ones, praying none of them had business in that part of the city that day. 

I remember the helplessness as they asked people to stay away from the site.  They didn’t know if there were other bombs and the site was so dangerous that they couldn’t use the help we could offer.  Oklahomans don’t stand by.  Watching passively as someone else faces down a horror is not what we do.  We defend.  We help.  We pitch in and take care of our own and other people’s, too.  But we couldn’t follow our instincts, so we watched and we prayed.   

As the day went on and the search and rescue began, the sun disappeared and the rain started. All I could think about was survivors trapped, terrified and injured, and now cold and wet.  But emotionally the rain somehow felt right.  It felt like we all unintentionally willed it to happen, like Nature responded to what we were all feeling.

The one thing I could think to do was give blood.  When I got to the Red Cross nearest to my home in Tulsa, I had to park about half a mile away because there were so many cars.  The shoes I had on were a little fancy and definitely not made for walking in the rain.  When I finally got in the building, I remember how quiet it was.  I had donated there before and it was always cheerfully noisy and bustling, but not that day.  It was busier than I’d ever seen it but almost silent.  In the place I could normally donate on a walk-in basis, the next available appointment was two weeks away.

I was lucky.  Some loved ones had some close calls – the meeting in the Murrah Building cancelled at the last minute and other aggravations suddenly recast as life preservers  – but everyone was alright.  Physically alright.    

I’ve long since donated the dress I had on that day, but I still have the shoes.  I am an “out with the old” kind of person, donating clothes, tossing and recycling things.  I hate clutter, but I can’t bring myself to give up those shoes.  I guess they help me remember what it was like before, and what it was like after.  I need to remember.  And I do. 

Embracing My Inner Grandma

I am just going to embrace my inner grandma and admit that I am out of step with many cultural trends. So here’s me doing that: What’s up with profanity suddenly being OK in professional publications, network TV and other public realms? My husband and I have both recently read well-regarded professional publications with curse words -- "asshole" and "bullshit," specifically -- in the titles and names of recent network TV shows include S*%$ My Dad Says and Don’t Trust the B___ in Apartment 23. Don’t get me wrong, I have been known to say a curse word on occasion, I love me some First Amendment, and I don’t expect the world to cater to the fact that I have young kids. But...using profanity in these settings doesn’t make shows or books “edgy” or cool; it makes the writers and producers look...well, crass and unimaginative. I think cursing is a personal decision that belongs in private and not in professional settings, on mainstream TV shows, or anywhere near young kids, who can read billboards and hear ads for the shows that are aired during the day. There are many far-worse issues facing kids today, certainly, but this seems so easily preventable. Isn’t there enough crudeness and incivility in the world that I have to explain to those sweet little faces, without having to explain what the “B___” stands for? Can’t we do better than this?

I know what you're thinking. "Teresa, you read the profanely titled books and are thus participating in the problem." Please know that I refused to buy mine (meaning no financial support for the author or publisher) and both books had critical information in them that Rome and I needed to do our work.

 

Now come give your grandma some sugar...and stay off my lawn, you kids!