Seattle is doomed! But in order for you to understand this, you need some basic Seattle history. This story is actually something I wrote for something else some other time, so it may not sound quite the same as I normally write for this blog. Let's just say that by studying Seattle, we are studying a city built on folly
Underground Seattle is a complex maze of passageways and basements in downtown Seattle. In the mid-1800s, when Seattle was just beginning, Underground Seattle was really the ground level. The city was built on the tide flats of the Puget Sound and thus flooded frequently.
The original buildings of Seattle were made of wood, and as the University of Washington Library states, the floors of the buildings were made of “wood chips and turpentine.” (University of Washington Libraries) The streets were muddy, and the people were coarse lumberjacks who seldom took baths.
Seattle was founded on November 13, 1851. A party of settlers led by a man named Arthur Denny landed on Alki Beach in November. (I may do another story on Seattle some other time. If I do, there will be more about the folly of his early settlement.) A man who was interested in the Northwest since an early time in his life, Arthur Denny seized the chance to go west when it came. He was partly influenced by his wife Mary. The city was also founded by the Terry group, and the Hines group. Little is known about these groups, but it’s better not to give all the credit to Arthur Denny.
When the Denny party landed on Alki Beach, now in downtown Seattle they named the place New York and then added bye and bye. Bye and bye became the Washington state motto. Part of the reason that Seattle was once named New York may have been because the biggest city, New York City, New York, where most of the Denny party had come from, was a three month journey. The Denny party hoped that Seattle would be able to take New York’s place as a large social center. Later the city was named Seattle after explorers met the powerful local Indian chief, Chief Sealth, or, Seattle, as we Americans called him.
This story was intended to be mainly about why Seattle is doomed so, enough of Seattle’s background. Let us instead skip to one of Seattle’s first mistakes: the Great Fire of Seattle. It started on June 6th, 1889, at 2:15 p.m., just after a beautiful spring.
The Great Fire started in a carpenters shop when a pot of glue, which was put on the stove by John Back, boiled over onto the sawdust and turpentine floor. The floor, of course, caught fire. When it was noticed, it was already too late to stop it. The fire soon ignited the liquor store on the one side, and a hardware store on the other side. Because of the massive logging industry of the time, all of the hardware stores carried dynamite, while everyone knows that alcohol is highly combustible. You can well imagine the result.
An equally important contribution to the greatness of the fire is Skid Row. The term Skid Row started in Seattle. It was really called Skid Road at first. The lumberjacks would skid the logs down the steep hill behind Seattle to the Puget Sound. After the logs had been put into the Sound, the lumberjacks would enter the bars. Thus, Skid Row was born.
At the time of the fire, drunken teenagers and men set fire to other buildings thinking that it was all in fun. Amazingly, no lives were lost in the fire. An article titled the Great Seattle Fire of June 6, 1889 tells us of the devastation caused by the fire. It says, and I quote, “Thousands of people were homeless, and 5,000 men were without jobs. The city estimated losses at more than $8 million, and that did not include personal property losses.” (U-S, comp.)
Where was the fire department all this time? Unfortunately, the fire Chief was out of town at a fire prevention conference! No one seemed to mind that. After all, they had two brand-new fire engines that would fix the problem in no time. However, they neglected to see if the fire engines were filled with water. Of course they weren't. No problem, said the city’s government, there’s the Sound just a hop, skip, and a jump away. So, they drove the fire engines over to the water. At least, they tried to. Un-happily, the tide was out causing the beach to be muddy. The engines got stuck and the people were forced to put out the fire in the old fashioned and unconventional way. A line of men passing buckets back and forth. The city of Tacoma, about half a day away, did send over their fire engines in time to help put out the fire, but it wasn’t enough to save Seattle.The fire destroyed almost the entire city. Thirty blocks were utterly demolished.
(It sounds like Seattle has already gone through its doom-edness. But this is only the beginning. Other, more terrible things are to come in Snippets of: Seattle, Part 2. However, Part 2 must wait it's turn. Next up is: Stories of My Life:__)
Friday, September 24, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
A Day in the Life of: Colonel David "Mickey" Marcus
"Hi, I'm Mickey Marcus, but you must never call me that. Here, in Palestine, I am Mickey Stone. Got it?"
After the Biblical scattering of the Jews before and during the World Wars, the Jews were at last released from concentration camps etc. throughout the world after the Second World War. Deprived of their former homes, the Jews had no place to go after the release and gradually, a new hope and dream began to inspire them all. The historically and culturally rich significance of Jerusalem was calling the Jews throughout the world, and most answered that call. As Christians, we all know that the Biblical regathering of the Jews was accomplished in 1948 when the Jews became a nation once again. Many of us however, are unaware of some of the most exciting events that occurred to bring the Jews to the point where they could declare themselves a nation.
In the intervening time before the Jews returned to Palestine, the Arab people had come into the beautiful land and claimed it for their own. When the Jews returned, something, or someone, had to give place. There wasn't room for two nations in the tiny country.
The Arabs were well supplied with weapons and supplies. Not only this, but the British were biased towards them. The British at the time were executing a withdrawal from Palestine. The Jews had returned to their historic homeland immediately after a period of helplessness and despair. As prisoners, they had owned nothing in the shape of weapons. They had not fought against anyone in such a long time that they had few ideas about how to manage and create an army, let alone an army that would defeat the well-equipped Arabs. David Ben-Gurion, and the other leaders of the Jewish people, knew that they needed the help of a real military advisor. For this reason, they turned towards the recently victorious country of America.
Mickey Marcus, after an extremely successful and colorful career in the military during WWII, had turned down the offer of brigadier-general and returned to his very beloved wife, Emmy, or "Snippy," and a successful law practice. He was interrupted one day by Major Shamir, from Palestine.
Mickey was a go-getter kind of guy. If somebody needed something, he didn't sit around talking about the problem and the various solutions. Instead, he got started doing something to fix it; immediately. When Major Shamir asked Mickey to help the Jewish people find a military expert, Mickey instantly called up all of his qualified friends. None of the viable options he came up with however were available. In the meantime, Major Shamir was sizing Mickey up. The Major was impressed with Mickey's quickness of action, his ability to see a situation from all its angles, and his willingness to help with all of his energy. Mickey was startled when he was asked to consider going to Palestine to help.
The idea however, grabbed his mind and would not leave. He fretted about how to tell his wife. But his wife eventually came around to his views. Mickey needed to be doing something for a cause.
Because of the British occupation, Mickey had to go under another name; thus, Mickey Stone was born. If it became known that an American officer was helping the "insurgents and rebels," American and British relations would go down the hole. That would be bad.
Mickey had planned to take the relevant parts of the American military manual with him, or have them shipped undercover when he arrived. Unfortunately, his undercover contacts for that part had to lie low. Instead, Mickey began memorizing huge portions of the manual. When he arrived in Palestine, he instantly jumped into the work of re-writing the manual from memory. The Jews were astonished. Mickey was one of those fortunate people who could escape with only a few hours of sleep. He was on the go almost 24-7. He not only met and advised the Jewish officials such as his "Boss" David Ben-Gurion, and other leaders of the Haganah and Palmach, but he also took the time to visit with the actual soldiers. The Jews appreciated his out-going helpful but teach-able attitude. Many other "experts" had told them things like "Put two battalions of tanks here, machine guns there." Mickey was the only one who came and used the resources which they already had. As Mickey said, why use what you haven't and can't get. Mickey came to help, but he knew that European modern warfare doesn't always work in the desert. (Much like the American Colonials and General Braddock). He was willing to be taught the methods that were viable for Palestine.
Before Mickey arrived, the Jews' fighting method was strictly individualistic. They used night raids, usually with only 1-3 people striking at one place. While it worked for the time being to keep the lines defended, attack by the modernly-equipped United Arab League was imminent. Mickey saw that individual attacks would not be enough to stem the tide. He liked to use the example of a finger versus a fist. "Look Boss, if I poke you with my finger, or even all five finger, but separately, it doesn't hurt. But if you put the fingers together like this...WAM!" Mickey's examples were always apt, even to the very different culture he was in. Within a few weeks, they all loved him.
The Haganah and Palmach leaders were anxious to get a real army going, and Mickey was too. However, he did realize that time was getting short. Unfortunately, he felt the Jews were being a little too impatient when they said they wanted a fully trained army within a month. "Make it six" Mickey said. After a little argument, Mickey relented, "All right, three, no less." The Jews still wanted it sooner. "Listen," Mickey replied, "how long does it take for a woman to make a baby?"
"Nine months,"
"Right, and what happens if she has it in four?"
This time, the Jews relented.
And so, in about three months, with the help of Mickey's prodigious energy, the makings of a real army began to show through. After a trip home, where Mickey pulled strings to ensure that the U.S. would recognize an Israeli state, Mickey returned to Palestine to help some more. He promised his wife he'd be back in June. He was, but not in the way they both thought. Always one to visit the front lines and be with the 'boys' (literally, some of them) he was killed by friendly fire a few weeks later. His body was shipped to America a few day's later in June.
Colonel David "Mickey Marcus was the only soldier buried at West Point while fighting under a foreign flag. A champion boxer, trusted Pentagon aide, one of the few who actually put together the surrender terms for WWII, one of the first parachuters (clandestinely) to land on D-day, cleanser of the New York corrupted Tammany jails, and possessor of numerous medals, Colonel Marcus was killed in Palestine on June 11, not 10 feet from where his name-sake, the David of the Bible, had danced after Goliath. Without him, Israel may not have been. Almost single-handedly, (figuratively speaking) he had won the Israeli War of Independence. According to David Ben-Gurion, "he was the best man we ever had."
You can read more about him in Cast a Giant Shadow, by Ted Berkman. It is an excellent book.
(This has been: A Day in the Life of: Colonel David "Mickey" Marcus. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:__)
After the Biblical scattering of the Jews before and during the World Wars, the Jews were at last released from concentration camps etc. throughout the world after the Second World War. Deprived of their former homes, the Jews had no place to go after the release and gradually, a new hope and dream began to inspire them all. The historically and culturally rich significance of Jerusalem was calling the Jews throughout the world, and most answered that call. As Christians, we all know that the Biblical regathering of the Jews was accomplished in 1948 when the Jews became a nation once again. Many of us however, are unaware of some of the most exciting events that occurred to bring the Jews to the point where they could declare themselves a nation.
In the intervening time before the Jews returned to Palestine, the Arab people had come into the beautiful land and claimed it for their own. When the Jews returned, something, or someone, had to give place. There wasn't room for two nations in the tiny country.
The Arabs were well supplied with weapons and supplies. Not only this, but the British were biased towards them. The British at the time were executing a withdrawal from Palestine. The Jews had returned to their historic homeland immediately after a period of helplessness and despair. As prisoners, they had owned nothing in the shape of weapons. They had not fought against anyone in such a long time that they had few ideas about how to manage and create an army, let alone an army that would defeat the well-equipped Arabs. David Ben-Gurion, and the other leaders of the Jewish people, knew that they needed the help of a real military advisor. For this reason, they turned towards the recently victorious country of America.
Mickey Marcus, after an extremely successful and colorful career in the military during WWII, had turned down the offer of brigadier-general and returned to his very beloved wife, Emmy, or "Snippy," and a successful law practice. He was interrupted one day by Major Shamir, from Palestine.
Mickey was a go-getter kind of guy. If somebody needed something, he didn't sit around talking about the problem and the various solutions. Instead, he got started doing something to fix it; immediately. When Major Shamir asked Mickey to help the Jewish people find a military expert, Mickey instantly called up all of his qualified friends. None of the viable options he came up with however were available. In the meantime, Major Shamir was sizing Mickey up. The Major was impressed with Mickey's quickness of action, his ability to see a situation from all its angles, and his willingness to help with all of his energy. Mickey was startled when he was asked to consider going to Palestine to help.
The idea however, grabbed his mind and would not leave. He fretted about how to tell his wife. But his wife eventually came around to his views. Mickey needed to be doing something for a cause.
Because of the British occupation, Mickey had to go under another name; thus, Mickey Stone was born. If it became known that an American officer was helping the "insurgents and rebels," American and British relations would go down the hole. That would be bad.
Mickey had planned to take the relevant parts of the American military manual with him, or have them shipped undercover when he arrived. Unfortunately, his undercover contacts for that part had to lie low. Instead, Mickey began memorizing huge portions of the manual. When he arrived in Palestine, he instantly jumped into the work of re-writing the manual from memory. The Jews were astonished. Mickey was one of those fortunate people who could escape with only a few hours of sleep. He was on the go almost 24-7. He not only met and advised the Jewish officials such as his "Boss" David Ben-Gurion, and other leaders of the Haganah and Palmach, but he also took the time to visit with the actual soldiers. The Jews appreciated his out-going helpful but teach-able attitude. Many other "experts" had told them things like "Put two battalions of tanks here, machine guns there." Mickey was the only one who came and used the resources which they already had. As Mickey said, why use what you haven't and can't get. Mickey came to help, but he knew that European modern warfare doesn't always work in the desert. (Much like the American Colonials and General Braddock). He was willing to be taught the methods that were viable for Palestine.
Before Mickey arrived, the Jews' fighting method was strictly individualistic. They used night raids, usually with only 1-3 people striking at one place. While it worked for the time being to keep the lines defended, attack by the modernly-equipped United Arab League was imminent. Mickey saw that individual attacks would not be enough to stem the tide. He liked to use the example of a finger versus a fist. "Look Boss, if I poke you with my finger, or even all five finger, but separately, it doesn't hurt. But if you put the fingers together like this...WAM!" Mickey's examples were always apt, even to the very different culture he was in. Within a few weeks, they all loved him.
The Haganah and Palmach leaders were anxious to get a real army going, and Mickey was too. However, he did realize that time was getting short. Unfortunately, he felt the Jews were being a little too impatient when they said they wanted a fully trained army within a month. "Make it six" Mickey said. After a little argument, Mickey relented, "All right, three, no less." The Jews still wanted it sooner. "Listen," Mickey replied, "how long does it take for a woman to make a baby?"
"Nine months,"
"Right, and what happens if she has it in four?"
This time, the Jews relented.
And so, in about three months, with the help of Mickey's prodigious energy, the makings of a real army began to show through. After a trip home, where Mickey pulled strings to ensure that the U.S. would recognize an Israeli state, Mickey returned to Palestine to help some more. He promised his wife he'd be back in June. He was, but not in the way they both thought. Always one to visit the front lines and be with the 'boys' (literally, some of them) he was killed by friendly fire a few weeks later. His body was shipped to America a few day's later in June.
Colonel David "Mickey Marcus was the only soldier buried at West Point while fighting under a foreign flag. A champion boxer, trusted Pentagon aide, one of the few who actually put together the surrender terms for WWII, one of the first parachuters (clandestinely) to land on D-day, cleanser of the New York corrupted Tammany jails, and possessor of numerous medals, Colonel Marcus was killed in Palestine on June 11, not 10 feet from where his name-sake, the David of the Bible, had danced after Goliath. Without him, Israel may not have been. Almost single-handedly, (figuratively speaking) he had won the Israeli War of Independence. According to David Ben-Gurion, "he was the best man we ever had."
You can read more about him in Cast a Giant Shadow, by Ted Berkman. It is an excellent book.
(This has been: A Day in the Life of: Colonel David "Mickey" Marcus. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:__)
Monday, September 6, 2010
Fountain of Thoughts: Memorization
I've been thinking about writing about Bible memorization for the last month or so. A couple of weeks ago, imagine my astonishment when someone at my church brought it up. Isn't it funny how such things happen. You'll be thinking about something, and then, all of a sudden, it seems as though everyone else has been thinking about the very same thing.
The topic of memorizing Scripture is an important one, and, to my mind, it ties in directly with my previous post in this series about persecution. Over and over in the Bible we are told memorize. Psalm 1: we're to "meditate on [His] word day and night." The word meditate here means to become so involved in God's word that we are talking and repeating it to ourselves. In Proverbs 3 we're supposed to "write it [His word] on the tables of our heart." These are only two examples. This theme literally permeates the Scripture. "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God." (Deut. 6).
The Bible does say that "not one jot or tittle will pass away." The Bible will remain forever. However, (and this is where it ties into persecution), the time will come for us in America where the Bible will become exceedingly scarce. In many churches in other closed countries, there are either only one Bible or part of a Bible in the entire congregation. Amos 8 says: "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God of hosts, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. And the shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, the shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it."
Aside from the direct commands to "treasure [His word] in our hearts" I believe the above verses from Amos is the number one reason to memorize Scripture. Amos continues: "In that day shall the fair virgins and young men faint for thirst." The time is coming when we may not be able to get our hands on a physical Bible. I believe, if we do not wish to spiritually faint for thirst of God's Word, that we must commit it to memory.
I myself have been doing so consistently for three, nearly four, years. At one chapter a month, or about a verse a day, I have currently memorized six books of the Bible, going on 8. (I'm at the end of Amos). A verse a day is easy, anyone can do it, even if you think it's too hard for you to memorize. The benefit for me so far has been a much closer look at individual verses. It's easy, when reading the Bible, to just skim. When you memorize it though, you're forced to look at what the verse really says. Aside from that, it is scientifically proven that memorizing Scripture helps to remember other things. I've started with the shorter books of the Bible, but I'm looking forward to getting to the longer books and being forced to memorize 2, 3, and 4, verses a day to accomplish my goal of a chapter a month. I'd like to encourage you to do the same. Figure out a system that works for you, and then keep at it. It takes work at first, but don't get discouraged, it gets easier as time goes on. Having an accountability partner to whom you can quote your verses can really help as well. For this week, try memorizing seven of your favorite Bible verses.
"The Lord bless you, the Lord cause his face to shine upon you...and give you peace."
(This has been Fountain of Thoughts: Memorization. Look in next time to read A Day in the Life Of__)
The topic of memorizing Scripture is an important one, and, to my mind, it ties in directly with my previous post in this series about persecution. Over and over in the Bible we are told memorize. Psalm 1: we're to "meditate on [His] word day and night." The word meditate here means to become so involved in God's word that we are talking and repeating it to ourselves. In Proverbs 3 we're supposed to "write it [His word] on the tables of our heart." These are only two examples. This theme literally permeates the Scripture. "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God." (Deut. 6).
The Bible does say that "not one jot or tittle will pass away." The Bible will remain forever. However, (and this is where it ties into persecution), the time will come for us in America where the Bible will become exceedingly scarce. In many churches in other closed countries, there are either only one Bible or part of a Bible in the entire congregation. Amos 8 says: "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God of hosts, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. And the shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, the shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it."
Aside from the direct commands to "treasure [His word] in our hearts" I believe the above verses from Amos is the number one reason to memorize Scripture. Amos continues: "In that day shall the fair virgins and young men faint for thirst." The time is coming when we may not be able to get our hands on a physical Bible. I believe, if we do not wish to spiritually faint for thirst of God's Word, that we must commit it to memory.
I myself have been doing so consistently for three, nearly four, years. At one chapter a month, or about a verse a day, I have currently memorized six books of the Bible, going on 8. (I'm at the end of Amos). A verse a day is easy, anyone can do it, even if you think it's too hard for you to memorize. The benefit for me so far has been a much closer look at individual verses. It's easy, when reading the Bible, to just skim. When you memorize it though, you're forced to look at what the verse really says. Aside from that, it is scientifically proven that memorizing Scripture helps to remember other things. I've started with the shorter books of the Bible, but I'm looking forward to getting to the longer books and being forced to memorize 2, 3, and 4, verses a day to accomplish my goal of a chapter a month. I'd like to encourage you to do the same. Figure out a system that works for you, and then keep at it. It takes work at first, but don't get discouraged, it gets easier as time goes on. Having an accountability partner to whom you can quote your verses can really help as well. For this week, try memorizing seven of your favorite Bible verses.
"The Lord bless you, the Lord cause his face to shine upon you...and give you peace."
(This has been Fountain of Thoughts: Memorization. Look in next time to read A Day in the Life Of__)
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tidbits of: South Dakota
Most of you are probably wondering what in the world happened to me. After all, I haven't posted in nearly a month. Actually, I was taking a very lovely road trip all the way to South Dakota with my siblings to visit my other sibling. For the directionally challenged, South Dakota on the map is located beneath North Dakota, not above. For the scientifically challenged, heat expands and cold contracts not the other way around.
The weather in South Dakota was beautiful, but overly warm. Mid-August and all that, you know. We arrived on Saturday, having left Friday. On Sunday, we went to church with my brother. Interestingly, a missionary from China was there. He had many very interesting things to say. For instance, Chinese children, because of the one-child policy, are all spoiled brats. They call them "little emperors" and "little empresses." On Monday, my brother got us up at 5:30 and we took a mile and a half walk around three beautiful little lakes. Little is right, I'd call them ponds myself. After that, we played Wally Ball. And no, that is not Volleyball, although I thought it was at first. It was quite fun. Does all this count as Snippets of South Dakota?
All right, here's some real South Dakota stuff. South Dakota is home of the Black Hills. These hills, similar in shape, size, and color, to Brown Speed Bumps, are really quite lovely. They are home to the scrawny, scraggly, and skinny National Pine forest. The forest is so thinly populated with trees that it makes for a lovely shaded walk with few obstructions and impediments both to the view and to movement. I may be sounding a little sarcastic here, and it's true, I am. But that doesn't mean I didn't like it. It was so neat to see all the different types of beauty that God thought to create.
Also located in the Black Hills of South Dakota is the National Monument: Mount Rushmore. Mount Rushmore is truly a beautiful work of art. It is thrilling to be there and see it and think about the great contributions of those four great men. I have to say that my favorites, in order, are Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Jefferson. The monument is huge. It inspires a wonderful love of my country, i.e. patriotism. I would encourage everyone who is in the area to go and see it, also to see the lighting ceremony at the end of the day.
South Dakota possesses two cave systems. I had the privilege to visit one. The Wind Caves are one of the longest systems in the nation. 136 miles have been explored. It is believed that this is only 5-10% of the cave. It has the most box-work in the world. Box-work is very beautiful. It is as if a cube of cement was poured and partitioned with cement. In the partitions, we put sugar. Then, we pour water on the creation. Naturally, the sugar dissolves. The frame is all that is left, and that is what box-work is like. Some parts of the box-work are very thin. If you scrape your finger lightly on the edge, it makes music.
That, combined, is both my recent visit to South Dakota, and my Snippets.
(This has been: Tidbits of South Dakota. Look in next time to read Fountain of Thoughts:_)
The weather in South Dakota was beautiful, but overly warm. Mid-August and all that, you know. We arrived on Saturday, having left Friday. On Sunday, we went to church with my brother. Interestingly, a missionary from China was there. He had many very interesting things to say. For instance, Chinese children, because of the one-child policy, are all spoiled brats. They call them "little emperors" and "little empresses." On Monday, my brother got us up at 5:30 and we took a mile and a half walk around three beautiful little lakes. Little is right, I'd call them ponds myself. After that, we played Wally Ball. And no, that is not Volleyball, although I thought it was at first. It was quite fun. Does all this count as Snippets of South Dakota?
All right, here's some real South Dakota stuff. South Dakota is home of the Black Hills. These hills, similar in shape, size, and color, to Brown Speed Bumps, are really quite lovely. They are home to the scrawny, scraggly, and skinny National Pine forest. The forest is so thinly populated with trees that it makes for a lovely shaded walk with few obstructions and impediments both to the view and to movement. I may be sounding a little sarcastic here, and it's true, I am. But that doesn't mean I didn't like it. It was so neat to see all the different types of beauty that God thought to create.
Also located in the Black Hills of South Dakota is the National Monument: Mount Rushmore. Mount Rushmore is truly a beautiful work of art. It is thrilling to be there and see it and think about the great contributions of those four great men. I have to say that my favorites, in order, are Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Jefferson. The monument is huge. It inspires a wonderful love of my country, i.e. patriotism. I would encourage everyone who is in the area to go and see it, also to see the lighting ceremony at the end of the day.
South Dakota possesses two cave systems. I had the privilege to visit one. The Wind Caves are one of the longest systems in the nation. 136 miles have been explored. It is believed that this is only 5-10% of the cave. It has the most box-work in the world. Box-work is very beautiful. It is as if a cube of cement was poured and partitioned with cement. In the partitions, we put sugar. Then, we pour water on the creation. Naturally, the sugar dissolves. The frame is all that is left, and that is what box-work is like. Some parts of the box-work are very thin. If you scrape your finger lightly on the edge, it makes music.
That, combined, is both my recent visit to South Dakota, and my Snippets.
(This has been: Tidbits of South Dakota. Look in next time to read Fountain of Thoughts:_)
Friday, July 30, 2010
Snippets of: Nome, Alaska Part 1
In Sweden, 1857, a little boy was born into poverty. Sweden sounds very far from Nome, Alaska, and a poor boy being born seems to have nothing to do with Nome, however, Eric Lindblom was pivotal in the history both of Nome, and the United States.
I seriously doubt that anyone has ever heard of him before. His mother was a beggar, his father died early in Eric's life. Eric became apprenticed to a tailor in Stockholm, Sweden. A tailor is often recognized as a very poor trade, but in spite of this, Eric was able to lift himself and his mother out of poverty through it. His work carried him to many countries including, but not limited to, France, Russia, Germany, and England. In England, he met and married Miss Mary Ann Smith, herself a daughter of a tailor.
The Lindbloms traveled to the U.S. shortly after their marriage. Incidently, their marriage anniversary is coming up on August 2ND. They traveled west. In Montana, they became American citizens. In Idaho, on an Indian Reservation, their son, Olof, was born. Their daughter, Brita, was born before they reached California.
In California, Eric took courses in mining. It was only a short time later when gold fever struck. Drawn by rumors of riches in Alaska, Eric joined a ship as a sailor and traveled to Kotzebue in 1897. From that time forth, Eric became a legendary figure. While this was the case however, the sources of his adventures are credible.
Eric found the rumors to be false. Naturally he was disappointed. He decided to board another ship and go somewhere else. Near Teller, Alaska, the ship became nearly ice-bound. Lindblom deserted his post on the ship. Technically, Lindblom, with the other people on board the ship, were supposed to be getting freshwater, instead, Lindblom landed and hid in a snow cavern. After three days, he left and began his travels. On the way, he met a prospector. Hiding under the prospector's load of furs, Lindblom went to Golovin, nearly suffocating on the way. There, he traveled to the mouth of the Snake River, or, present-day Nome. With two other men, Jafet Lindeberg, and John Brynteson, they panned the river for gold. The three of them were the founders of Nome, though Lindeberg is usually credited with it.
So much for Eric's pivotal part in the history of Nome. His part in the history of the U.S. has to do with the fact that he struck it rich, very rich. Eric's single gold strike began what we know today as the Klondike Gold Rush. The Gold Rush involved hundreds of thousands of people. It helped Alaska become populated, and it helped America's reputation as a place of opportunity.
(This has been: Snippets of Nome, Alaska, Part 1. Look in next time to read: Stories of my Life:_)
I seriously doubt that anyone has ever heard of him before. His mother was a beggar, his father died early in Eric's life. Eric became apprenticed to a tailor in Stockholm, Sweden. A tailor is often recognized as a very poor trade, but in spite of this, Eric was able to lift himself and his mother out of poverty through it. His work carried him to many countries including, but not limited to, France, Russia, Germany, and England. In England, he met and married Miss Mary Ann Smith, herself a daughter of a tailor.
The Lindbloms traveled to the U.S. shortly after their marriage. Incidently, their marriage anniversary is coming up on August 2ND. They traveled west. In Montana, they became American citizens. In Idaho, on an Indian Reservation, their son, Olof, was born. Their daughter, Brita, was born before they reached California.
In California, Eric took courses in mining. It was only a short time later when gold fever struck. Drawn by rumors of riches in Alaska, Eric joined a ship as a sailor and traveled to Kotzebue in 1897. From that time forth, Eric became a legendary figure. While this was the case however, the sources of his adventures are credible.
Eric found the rumors to be false. Naturally he was disappointed. He decided to board another ship and go somewhere else. Near Teller, Alaska, the ship became nearly ice-bound. Lindblom deserted his post on the ship. Technically, Lindblom, with the other people on board the ship, were supposed to be getting freshwater, instead, Lindblom landed and hid in a snow cavern. After three days, he left and began his travels. On the way, he met a prospector. Hiding under the prospector's load of furs, Lindblom went to Golovin, nearly suffocating on the way. There, he traveled to the mouth of the Snake River, or, present-day Nome. With two other men, Jafet Lindeberg, and John Brynteson, they panned the river for gold. The three of them were the founders of Nome, though Lindeberg is usually credited with it.
So much for Eric's pivotal part in the history of Nome. His part in the history of the U.S. has to do with the fact that he struck it rich, very rich. Eric's single gold strike began what we know today as the Klondike Gold Rush. The Gold Rush involved hundreds of thousands of people. It helped Alaska become populated, and it helped America's reputation as a place of opportunity.
(This has been: Snippets of Nome, Alaska, Part 1. Look in next time to read: Stories of my Life:_)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
An In-between: God Grants Wishes, so be Careful What you Wish
"Lord, we're planning on going to South Dakota in a couple of months. We know some of our cars aren't running quite right. We pray, Lord, that if one of the cars we're planning to take is going to break down, that it would do so before we leave." Thus prayed Dad one morning a few weeks ago.
Yesterday, we all got ready to go to a wedding located close to three hours away. The wedding began at 4 P.M., and Dad intended to leave in time to get there thirty minutes early; just in case.
My sister mentioned to me before we left that she "disliked being way early like that." I mean,"
she said, "I don't like being late either, but not whole thirty minutes early. I like to be on time or maybe just a little bit early," she said.
"Man," one of my brothers said before we left, "I don't see why we have to drive three hours in the hot sun to go to a wedding for people we don't really know that well, and when there probably wouldn't be anybody we know there!" (These were his words, although he was slightly exxagerating since we did know quite a few people).
The hot sun was a big deal for the rest of us, particularly myself and Mom. Our car didn't have airconditioning, and a three hour drive in the sun did not sound particularly fun. I think I did my share of complaining as well; and we all wished for airconditioning.
Our van had been repaired only the day before, so when we got on the road to go to the wedding, Dad was alert for how the van was driving.
"Wow!" he said after a few minutes, "this is driving better than ever before! If the airconditioning was fixed, I'd say we could take this to South Dakota!"
We suffered two hours in the hot car. It was probably close to a hundred in there. Traffic was extremely slow, and that did not help anything at all. At 2:30, we had only just passed Olympia. Traffic finally lightened up a bit then and Dad started to accelarate a little. That is when it the car showed that it had a voice all it's own.
"CLUNK!" it said. (Dad lost power). And then, ..."clunk...clunk...clunkclunkclunketyclunketyclunketyclunk." Of course, we had just passed an exit. We couldn't get off for several more minutes and with each passing moment the car voiced its grievances with more and more vigor. We pulled off into a gas station and we all seven of us got out of the car. The car was smoking. It was however about ten degrees cooler outside of the car and there was a slight breeze which actually made it pretty nice.
We were able to find a towtruck, but, as luck would have it, all of the rental car dealers closed at 1 p.m. Thankfully, the tow truck wasn't that far away. It arrived in about ten minutes with a very nice driver. If you ever have an emergency in Olympia, call William at Great Northwest Towing! William had found a rental car dealer that closed at three. He offered to take us there.
We all thought he meant that he would take Dad to the dealer and dad would get a van and drive back to the gas station and pick us up. However, William had a different plan.
"You all get in the van now and I'll put the van on the tow truck and take you all there at once." So we did, and he did. We rode in our broken van on the tow truck and waved at the top of all the buses passing beneath us. William and our tow truck ride almost made up for not seeing the groom at the wedding ride in on a horse.
When we arrived at the car dealer on top of the tow truck, the people inside the building were startled. The expression on their faces to see us all there in our fancy wedding clothes was well worth it. We were able to get a minivan after fifteen minutes and we all piled in. The car dealer closed up while we were doing so. We had just barely made it before they closed.
The first thing we all noticed was that our rented van had...duh, Duh, DUH, AIRCONDITIONING!! YAY! We arrived at the wedding just as they were being prounounced "husband and wife," so, we didn't miss all of it; only, like, the first 45 minutes.
So, we all got our wishes: The car broke down before we went to South Dakota, just as Dad desired, my sister wasn't half an hour early, my brother didn't have to see a wedding that he didn't know the people, and everyone else got airconditioning. Praise the Lord!
Oh, and one other thing, on the way home the traffic was very light. The trip should have only taken two and a half hours. We had to make a stop to drop someone off. Just as we reached the second to the correct exit on the freeway, the cars in front of us came to a dead stop in all five lanes. We could see flashing lates at the curve in the road just ahead. The accident, a serious one, blocked three lanes. Thankfully, we had come upon it only shortly after it had happened. It only took us thirty to forty-five minutes to get past it!
In case you didn't notice, yesterday was a very adventurous day. I recommend all of you, if you don't want something similar, to be careful what you say and wish for. God just might show you tangibly that He is listening to you all the time!
(This has been: An In-between. Look in for real next time if you want to see what I promised before: Snippets of__)
Yesterday, we all got ready to go to a wedding located close to three hours away. The wedding began at 4 P.M., and Dad intended to leave in time to get there thirty minutes early; just in case.
My sister mentioned to me before we left that she "disliked being way early like that." I mean,"
she said, "I don't like being late either, but not whole thirty minutes early. I like to be on time or maybe just a little bit early," she said.
"Man," one of my brothers said before we left, "I don't see why we have to drive three hours in the hot sun to go to a wedding for people we don't really know that well, and when there probably wouldn't be anybody we know there!" (These were his words, although he was slightly exxagerating since we did know quite a few people).
The hot sun was a big deal for the rest of us, particularly myself and Mom. Our car didn't have airconditioning, and a three hour drive in the sun did not sound particularly fun. I think I did my share of complaining as well; and we all wished for airconditioning.
Our van had been repaired only the day before, so when we got on the road to go to the wedding, Dad was alert for how the van was driving.
"Wow!" he said after a few minutes, "this is driving better than ever before! If the airconditioning was fixed, I'd say we could take this to South Dakota!"
We suffered two hours in the hot car. It was probably close to a hundred in there. Traffic was extremely slow, and that did not help anything at all. At 2:30, we had only just passed Olympia. Traffic finally lightened up a bit then and Dad started to accelarate a little. That is when it the car showed that it had a voice all it's own.
"CLUNK!" it said. (Dad lost power). And then, ..."clunk...clunk...clunkclunkclunketyclunketyclunketyclunk." Of course, we had just passed an exit. We couldn't get off for several more minutes and with each passing moment the car voiced its grievances with more and more vigor. We pulled off into a gas station and we all seven of us got out of the car. The car was smoking. It was however about ten degrees cooler outside of the car and there was a slight breeze which actually made it pretty nice.
We were able to find a towtruck, but, as luck would have it, all of the rental car dealers closed at 1 p.m. Thankfully, the tow truck wasn't that far away. It arrived in about ten minutes with a very nice driver. If you ever have an emergency in Olympia, call William at Great Northwest Towing! William had found a rental car dealer that closed at three. He offered to take us there.
We all thought he meant that he would take Dad to the dealer and dad would get a van and drive back to the gas station and pick us up. However, William had a different plan.
"You all get in the van now and I'll put the van on the tow truck and take you all there at once." So we did, and he did. We rode in our broken van on the tow truck and waved at the top of all the buses passing beneath us. William and our tow truck ride almost made up for not seeing the groom at the wedding ride in on a horse.
When we arrived at the car dealer on top of the tow truck, the people inside the building were startled. The expression on their faces to see us all there in our fancy wedding clothes was well worth it. We were able to get a minivan after fifteen minutes and we all piled in. The car dealer closed up while we were doing so. We had just barely made it before they closed.
The first thing we all noticed was that our rented van had...duh, Duh, DUH, AIRCONDITIONING!! YAY! We arrived at the wedding just as they were being prounounced "husband and wife," so, we didn't miss all of it; only, like, the first 45 minutes.
So, we all got our wishes: The car broke down before we went to South Dakota, just as Dad desired, my sister wasn't half an hour early, my brother didn't have to see a wedding that he didn't know the people, and everyone else got airconditioning. Praise the Lord!
Oh, and one other thing, on the way home the traffic was very light. The trip should have only taken two and a half hours. We had to make a stop to drop someone off. Just as we reached the second to the correct exit on the freeway, the cars in front of us came to a dead stop in all five lanes. We could see flashing lates at the curve in the road just ahead. The accident, a serious one, blocked three lanes. Thankfully, we had come upon it only shortly after it had happened. It only took us thirty to forty-five minutes to get past it!
In case you didn't notice, yesterday was a very adventurous day. I recommend all of you, if you don't want something similar, to be careful what you say and wish for. God just might show you tangibly that He is listening to you all the time!
(This has been: An In-between. Look in for real next time if you want to see what I promised before: Snippets of__)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
A Day in the Life of: Mrs. W___
A lady I know told this story from her life. It just goes to show you that you never know what kind of excitement you can have when all you're doing is growing a nice little garden.
Mrs. W__ lives on tiny piece of property which is completely covered in a tiny, but variegated and fruitful garden. Life was good. The garden was growing well. And, she didn't have rabbits. (Ah, woe is me, those rabbits are the terror of my garden).
Yes, everything was just dandy! (Isn't that always the way it is before something happened to change it)? Because, of course, it is inevitable that one's days are never always filled with peace and tranquility. The scene of the beautiful, quiet, garden, was destroyed in "a moment, in the twinkling of an eye."
One morning, Mrs. W__ discovered signs of cats in her garden. While, as far as I know, cats do not actually eat the produce from a garden, they do not pick through it daintily and walk on the designated paths. As you know, cats have always been known as independent little animals. Instead of walking on the paths, they caused problems in the form of trampled plants. Furthermore, cats use gardens as litterboxes. Cat litter is highly toxic and completely ruins the soil of the garden. For an avid gardener, this is not permissible.
Mrs. W__ decided to trap them; and one morning, she caught one. I do feel sorry for the owner. It was only at great expense that the owner was able to redeem her property.
Mrs. W__ continued to leave her trap out and baited each night. However, she didn't bargain for what she got. She was disturbed from her sleep early one morning by an obnoxious racket proceeding from her front porch. Naturally, she went to see what it was. She was confronted by a caged raccoon snarling viciously. The sheets with which the cage had been draped to make it inviting were torn to shreds.
She called several places to find out what to do, including the police. Her next door neighbor was matter-of-fact. "You have to open the cage and let it go!" The policeman however, upon arriving, agreed with Mrs. W__. "No one is going near the cage without a ten-foot pole."
Finally, Mrs. W__ got a hold of the same organization which had taken care of the caged cat. They had a wildlife department and took the raccoon away. The next-door neighbor however had "looked it up online." "You can't do that!" he said. "It's illegal to transport a wild animal!" Thankfully, the policeman was able to reassure him.
The raccoon was a mother with babies however. The authorities decided that she needed to go back to them. The raccoon was released near Mrs. W__'s property later that day. The authorities insisted that the raccoon had learned her lesson and would not be back. I think she has her doubts.
Mrs. W__ laughed the entire time she was telling me this story. Obviously, she found the story amusing once it was over. While a hectic morning and afternoon can change the day into one that isn't so fun as you might have been hoping for, it is good to take upon yourself the view that Mrs. W__did: Seeing the humor in an unpleasant situation is a attitude we can all learn from. With God, a good attitude is what counts.
(This has been: A Day in the Life of:__. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:_)
Mrs. W__ lives on tiny piece of property which is completely covered in a tiny, but variegated and fruitful garden. Life was good. The garden was growing well. And, she didn't have rabbits. (Ah, woe is me, those rabbits are the terror of my garden).
Yes, everything was just dandy! (Isn't that always the way it is before something happened to change it)? Because, of course, it is inevitable that one's days are never always filled with peace and tranquility. The scene of the beautiful, quiet, garden, was destroyed in "a moment, in the twinkling of an eye."
One morning, Mrs. W__ discovered signs of cats in her garden. While, as far as I know, cats do not actually eat the produce from a garden, they do not pick through it daintily and walk on the designated paths. As you know, cats have always been known as independent little animals. Instead of walking on the paths, they caused problems in the form of trampled plants. Furthermore, cats use gardens as litterboxes. Cat litter is highly toxic and completely ruins the soil of the garden. For an avid gardener, this is not permissible.
Mrs. W__ decided to trap them; and one morning, she caught one. I do feel sorry for the owner. It was only at great expense that the owner was able to redeem her property.
Mrs. W__ continued to leave her trap out and baited each night. However, she didn't bargain for what she got. She was disturbed from her sleep early one morning by an obnoxious racket proceeding from her front porch. Naturally, she went to see what it was. She was confronted by a caged raccoon snarling viciously. The sheets with which the cage had been draped to make it inviting were torn to shreds.
She called several places to find out what to do, including the police. Her next door neighbor was matter-of-fact. "You have to open the cage and let it go!" The policeman however, upon arriving, agreed with Mrs. W__. "No one is going near the cage without a ten-foot pole."
Finally, Mrs. W__ got a hold of the same organization which had taken care of the caged cat. They had a wildlife department and took the raccoon away. The next-door neighbor however had "looked it up online." "You can't do that!" he said. "It's illegal to transport a wild animal!" Thankfully, the policeman was able to reassure him.
The raccoon was a mother with babies however. The authorities decided that she needed to go back to them. The raccoon was released near Mrs. W__'s property later that day. The authorities insisted that the raccoon had learned her lesson and would not be back. I think she has her doubts.
Mrs. W__ laughed the entire time she was telling me this story. Obviously, she found the story amusing once it was over. While a hectic morning and afternoon can change the day into one that isn't so fun as you might have been hoping for, it is good to take upon yourself the view that Mrs. W__did: Seeing the humor in an unpleasant situation is a attitude we can all learn from. With God, a good attitude is what counts.
(This has been: A Day in the Life of:__. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:_)
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