Monday, September 20, 2004
JANUARY....1979
We left off with the end of 1978 and an ice storm that transformed the world into a beauteous wonderland. It actually heralded in one of the coldest, snowiest and iciest winters all over the mid-west and north-east. Normally we don’t have much of a winter here in the Ozarks but when the weather turns foul to the west and north of us…..it has a trickling down effect.
Our pipes froze early in January and our furnace was not up to the temperatures it was trying to offset. We hung quilts over the windows which were acting as an invitation for the cold air to blow through.
It was John’s senior year at Bolivar and one of his favorite professors was taking a group to Israel over the January term at school. I believe it was more or less following one of Paul’s trips from Israel on to Turkey and then to Greece. We took him to Rolla to meet his ride to St. Louis where the group would catch a plane to Paris for their first stop. They would arrive at Tel Aviv by late afternoon and stay there their first night. I was thrilled for his opportunity to visit the Holy Land and see all of the Biblical sights we had always read about.
I usually spend the month of January cleaning out and getting organized. Evenings and quiet afternoons are spent knitting, crocheting or quilting. I declare that my sabbatical month to follow my day dreams of crafting. Hours quite often were spent with mom either here or at her place. Mom had a calming and peaceful air about her that worked on me as yoga must on people who follow the practice. She usually had cross-stitch by her chair and I marveled at the patience executed with each stitch.
Her work was so meticulously done that long after the pillow cases wore out, I would carefully cut the embroidery work out of the piece and make small pillows out of them….mini pillows shaped into hearts and put in a basket. There they were loved and enjoyed each time I passed by…..and they are still a source of good memories and a bond between my mother and me.
The 19th of January was the day we were to meet John’s plane in St. Louis. Our weather had not improved at all. By the time we started out we had freezing rain and the trees were once again being pulled downward with the weight of the ice. Now, however, it was worse because they were weakened from the last several days of ice and were not entirely straight yet. We knew it would be hazardous driving to St. Louis.
We arrived at the airport by 6:45pm after negotiating the home-bound traffic through the city. We found the desk where his flight would be monitored and to our surprise it was delayed. To be certain, we inquired at the desk and told it was indeed, delayed. We were a little concerned knowing the drive home was several hours on good roads and we didn’t know what might be happening weather-wise on the long drive back. I’m sure we looked anxious as we sat watching the monitor register flights that were delayed or cancelled. Our flight was delayed a second time and then cancelled. The airport in St. Louis was “socked” in with heavy fog and the plane had been sent on to Kansas City where the passengers were taken to a hotel for the night. We were stuck in the airport for the night. It was “sleepless in St. Louis” to coin a phrase, as many vacationers were enroute to ski resorts with all of their gear and people were piled everywhere with their belongings. Of course, children were the worse for the situation, since accommodations had dropped to zero.
Our main concern was what flight John would be coming in on now that his other flight aborted. We didn’t know the flight number or the time. All we could do was sit tight….and stave off hunger. We had no cash with us and the concession stands wouldn’t take credit cards then. Knowing we were stuck with no food until we could pick John up and get somewhere made us all the more hungry. We sat watching other people wolf down their hot-dogs, burgers and hot coffee which made us terribly envious. Time passed and morning came.
The next morning we watched every flight from KC and no John. About the time we were ready to give up, he came in on Ozark 967.…….of course, he had been concerned as well when plans went awry and he didn’t know if we’d be there or not. We got down the road where we spotted a McDonalds and we grabbed a bite and headed home. John’s old room-mate and his wife were due that same evening so we were cutting our preparation time down to the wire. His new room-mate was also coming with them.
Becky came to my rescue and helped get food and sleeping arrangements made….she and mom had been worried about us not coming home and we had no way to call. I hated the trauma we put them through but as they say, “all’s well that ends well.” The young folks all got here about 9:30pm and we fed them and got them bedded down for the night….then got up early to get them off by 7:20am. The end of the trip didn’t exactly turn out like it was supposed to but things usually work out if given a little time.
A few days later, John and the others came back from their trip and I had fixed a turkey dinner for them. I’m thinking this must have been a preaching trip they went on or perhaps a “trial preaching” in view of a “call” from a church. I didn’t specify in my journal. The rest of them hurried back to Bolivar as Steve had to work the next day but John stayed with us.
Later, I asked John what impressed him most about all the things he had seen and tasted of. After thinking a moment, he said, “Well, all of the places that are marked where events happened to Christ were pretty well crowded and commercialized. I guess the thing that made the biggest impression on me was the hillside by the Sea of Galilee where Christ gave the Sermon on the Mount. You could look out at the water where boats were fishing and the lilies were blooming all over the hill. It was quiet and there is where I could feel His presence. I will never forget walking where He walked.”
In that sense, John is still walking where Christ is and that close communion is the anchor of his life. John has put a lot of footprints down in 47-years but he still follows the Master’s…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
Our pipes froze early in January and our furnace was not up to the temperatures it was trying to offset. We hung quilts over the windows which were acting as an invitation for the cold air to blow through.
It was John’s senior year at Bolivar and one of his favorite professors was taking a group to Israel over the January term at school. I believe it was more or less following one of Paul’s trips from Israel on to Turkey and then to Greece. We took him to Rolla to meet his ride to St. Louis where the group would catch a plane to Paris for their first stop. They would arrive at Tel Aviv by late afternoon and stay there their first night. I was thrilled for his opportunity to visit the Holy Land and see all of the Biblical sights we had always read about.
I usually spend the month of January cleaning out and getting organized. Evenings and quiet afternoons are spent knitting, crocheting or quilting. I declare that my sabbatical month to follow my day dreams of crafting. Hours quite often were spent with mom either here or at her place. Mom had a calming and peaceful air about her that worked on me as yoga must on people who follow the practice. She usually had cross-stitch by her chair and I marveled at the patience executed with each stitch.
Her work was so meticulously done that long after the pillow cases wore out, I would carefully cut the embroidery work out of the piece and make small pillows out of them….mini pillows shaped into hearts and put in a basket. There they were loved and enjoyed each time I passed by…..and they are still a source of good memories and a bond between my mother and me.
The 19th of January was the day we were to meet John’s plane in St. Louis. Our weather had not improved at all. By the time we started out we had freezing rain and the trees were once again being pulled downward with the weight of the ice. Now, however, it was worse because they were weakened from the last several days of ice and were not entirely straight yet. We knew it would be hazardous driving to St. Louis.
We arrived at the airport by 6:45pm after negotiating the home-bound traffic through the city. We found the desk where his flight would be monitored and to our surprise it was delayed. To be certain, we inquired at the desk and told it was indeed, delayed. We were a little concerned knowing the drive home was several hours on good roads and we didn’t know what might be happening weather-wise on the long drive back. I’m sure we looked anxious as we sat watching the monitor register flights that were delayed or cancelled. Our flight was delayed a second time and then cancelled. The airport in St. Louis was “socked” in with heavy fog and the plane had been sent on to Kansas City where the passengers were taken to a hotel for the night. We were stuck in the airport for the night. It was “sleepless in St. Louis” to coin a phrase, as many vacationers were enroute to ski resorts with all of their gear and people were piled everywhere with their belongings. Of course, children were the worse for the situation, since accommodations had dropped to zero.
Our main concern was what flight John would be coming in on now that his other flight aborted. We didn’t know the flight number or the time. All we could do was sit tight….and stave off hunger. We had no cash with us and the concession stands wouldn’t take credit cards then. Knowing we were stuck with no food until we could pick John up and get somewhere made us all the more hungry. We sat watching other people wolf down their hot-dogs, burgers and hot coffee which made us terribly envious. Time passed and morning came.
The next morning we watched every flight from KC and no John. About the time we were ready to give up, he came in on Ozark 967.…….of course, he had been concerned as well when plans went awry and he didn’t know if we’d be there or not. We got down the road where we spotted a McDonalds and we grabbed a bite and headed home. John’s old room-mate and his wife were due that same evening so we were cutting our preparation time down to the wire. His new room-mate was also coming with them.
Becky came to my rescue and helped get food and sleeping arrangements made….she and mom had been worried about us not coming home and we had no way to call. I hated the trauma we put them through but as they say, “all’s well that ends well.” The young folks all got here about 9:30pm and we fed them and got them bedded down for the night….then got up early to get them off by 7:20am. The end of the trip didn’t exactly turn out like it was supposed to but things usually work out if given a little time.
A few days later, John and the others came back from their trip and I had fixed a turkey dinner for them. I’m thinking this must have been a preaching trip they went on or perhaps a “trial preaching” in view of a “call” from a church. I didn’t specify in my journal. The rest of them hurried back to Bolivar as Steve had to work the next day but John stayed with us.
Later, I asked John what impressed him most about all the things he had seen and tasted of. After thinking a moment, he said, “Well, all of the places that are marked where events happened to Christ were pretty well crowded and commercialized. I guess the thing that made the biggest impression on me was the hillside by the Sea of Galilee where Christ gave the Sermon on the Mount. You could look out at the water where boats were fishing and the lilies were blooming all over the hill. It was quiet and there is where I could feel His presence. I will never forget walking where He walked.”
In that sense, John is still walking where Christ is and that close communion is the anchor of his life. John has put a lot of footprints down in 47-years but he still follows the Master’s…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
