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Reviewing a Lifetime
(A Psychotherapist's Nightmare)
by John D. Sedory

Copyright©2014 by Daniel B. Sedory, Editor. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 35B
Living in the High Desert (Cont.)

 

 

Stanley Edgren

    On July 1, 1989, Stanley Edgren died. He was the youngest in his family, Eleanor's father being the oldest. Stan used to love hearing George Beverly Shea sing and tried to imitate him. Stan and Edith had moved to Tennessee, having lived in Missouri before that, and were originally from Illinois. They kind of followed their kids around whenever they could, I think. He was a most devout Christian.

 

    August 1, 1989: We took off for San Diego with Kevin to have dinner at our favorite sea food place, Anthony's Fish Grotto[1], which [was] situated right on the bay. When there we almost always walk along the docks checking out all sea-going vessels around, especially the U.S. Navy ships.

Auto Accident with Unforeseen Complications

    August 11, 1989: Taking Kevin back to Fresno, we decided we'd visit our son Daniel at his work place in the City of San Fernando at his lunch hour. But we arrived earlier than expected, so I got off the freeway to stop at a coffee shop for "coffee-and."

    Leaving the restaurant, we headed toward Daniel's work place via city streets instead of getting back on the freeway. At one of the first stoplights we reached, the light changed so I stopped.

    I noticed a van behind us which seemed to be getting very close, and I wondered when and if it was going to stop. It didn't! It smacked right into our rear end, making a racket that was nearly deafening. I thought our car would be creamed and not able to be driven.

    Coming to our senses after the initial shock, we pulled around the corner to get off the busier four lane street we were on so we could get all the data we felt we'd need. Eleanor went into a house on the corner to call the local police department in San Fernando, but she was told unless there were injuries, they didn't make such stops.

    A young lady of 17 was the driver. One of the first things she said was "I just had the wagon repaired two weeks ago after my last accident." Not a good thing to say when hitting someone! She also said, "I wasn't thinking!"

    In time the young lady's mother drove up with a man who wasn't her husband. She asked the girl what she'd told us, and the girl admitted she gave us her insurance company's name and address and policy number. She'd also given us her home address and her mother's business address and phone numbers. Her mother owned an auto body shop. How appropriate! She was not pleased by what we knew.

    When I looked at the girl's van, the smashed-in hood and radiator and all, I figured our rear end would be completely crushed. But to my amazement, all I could see was that the bumper was bent pretty badly. The trunk had not been hit or the fenders. Of course, that didn't assure me there'd be no frame damage.

    The mother was foul-mouthed and loud. She verbally let it all hang out with her daughter, and she wasn't too friendly with us, either. She wanted us to come to the shop in San Fernando and leave the car to have them repair it.

    Imagine being one third of the distance to your ultimate destination, and now someone wants you to leave your car so they can fix it. It was over a hundred miles to our home alone, and over 200 to Fresno from there.

    So she said we should get an estimate, and she'd send a check for the damages. There wasn't much we could do other than that, since the police department wouldn't come to the scene of the accident.

    While this was going on, we were already supposed to be at Daniel's workplace, so Eleanor phoned him to explain what had happened. Daniel then drove from his workplace to the scene of the accident, and we ate our lunch right there out of the cooler we'd brought along.

    Returning home from Fresno, we went about getting the estimate needed so I could send it to the girl's mother. And once I had the estimate, I quickly mailed it.

    Nothing happened for days and days, so I phoned the body shop number given us. The girl answered the phone (she worked in the office there) and then put her mother on the line. What the conversation amounted to was that she wouldn't pay that much, saying this or that part on the estimate wasn't needed. She was her usual nasty self in that conversation.

    Though she'd asked that I not call or contact her daughter's insurance company (because of this and the previous accident at such short intervals), I got all the data together and sent it to my insurance company. I explained about the woman having the body shop, her promises to pay, her daughter's other accident—everything. And I received a phone call from an adjuster who said he wanted to see our car at the body shop which gave the estimate.

    Later I learned what had happened. The girl had been placed in a pool insurance program of some sort where all insurance companies must take so many of these high risk persons on, like it or not. And wouldn't you know, the girl's insurance ended up being placed with my company. So there was no other company to fight or to try recovering costs from.

    Even while all this bickering was going on, we got a phone call from Jack, our son in Fresno, saying that Kevin had a bad back from the accident. He'd been in the back seat of the car when it was hit, and evidently his back became wrenched. This was learned accidentally, as Terri (Jack's wife) was in to see her chiropractor when he spotted Kevin and said, "Has he been in an accident recently?" There was something about the way Kevin held his head or some telltale clue which led to his statement.

    So even before we'd found out that our insurance companies turned out to be the same one the girl and I were insured by, Jack phoned the body shop and spoke with the young lady who'd hit our car. He heard the mother in the background cursing the girl out for speaking with him. The girl prior to that had said she didn't think her mother was going to pay anyone anything in regard to that accident and that her mother figured we were trying to "take her."

    Anyway, my car was eventually repaired, though they never come out the same as they were before accidents. But I was glad the battle was over with that woman, and I felt sympathy for the young lady who'd hit us.

    August 27-29, '89: I'd become nauseated and suffered chest pressures again. The cardiologist suggested it might be a hiatal hernia (something to do with the esophagus) or an ulcer building in the stomach.

Trips — Visiting Brother Ed and Sister Marie

    August 30, 1989: Erana had arranged for a month's vacation in Wisconsin with her granddaughter Becky (Edgren) Miller and her husband Jim, and we drove her to the Ontario Airport for the departure. She really looked forward to that vacation with Becky, who now had a daughter who was about 14 months old. And Paul Edgren had a daughter who was a couple months old at that time (Becky, Paul, Peter, and their mother Betty Edgren all lived fairly close together in Wisconsin).

    August 31, 1989: It didn't take Eleanor and I long to figure out this would be a good time for us to take a trip to Arizona to see Ed and Marie, my brother and sister. When we'd take such trips with Erana, the car would be so packed tightly with a wheel chair, walker, commode extension, all her clothing, etc., it got to be a problem how to get it all in. Often I'd drive without being able to see out the back window.

    We returned home on September 5th, having stayed this time with Ed and Mily and EJ rather than at sister Marie and John's place. Even though it was hot there, it was a relaxed trip and enjoyable.

Martha Hertzler

    September 6, 1989: Martha (Edgren) Hertzler died from cardiac arrest. Martha was the sister of Ruth, and they married brothers. Now both daughters were gone, and it was really a time of sorrow. Martha was only 45 years of age, almost identically at the age her sister Ruth was when she died. But we rejoice in the fact they both knew the Lord Jesus and are there in heaven awaiting the rest of their family to join them. (Resulted from severe attack of asthma—cardiac arrest.)

    October 3, 1989: Over a month back Erana left Ontario Airport for Wisconsin, and on this date she returned home. She was bubbly with data about her stay there and the things they'd done (the family along with her).

    October 20, 1989: Eleanor and I purchased an expensive vacuum cleaner, another Kirby. The old one was something like 28 or 29 years old, though still running. In making the deal, we got to keep the old vacuum for outside and porch use, still getting a trade-in allowance.

    November 5, 1989: Matthew Daniel Sedory was born to Tim and Ronda, their third son, our fifth grandson. He was really a cute baby, having a lot of dark hair.

Our Son Tim Broke His Leg in Louisiana

    December 7, 1989: Our son Tim flew to Shreveport, Louisiana, to visit a sister plant of Ironclad there. Some sort of help was needed in straightening out shipping procedures, and Tim was sent for that purpose.

    One evening while there, he visited with a man from the plant. They went roller skating that night, and Tim fell and broke his leg and injured his ankle. He had swelling that wouldn't quit and a lot of pain. But because of whatever medical plan he was on, and because he thought he could make it back home all right, he completed the job there and flew home.

    December 11, 1989: Tim's ankle required surgery, and he had pins inserted into the broken bones area. The pain was almost unbearable, but in time he was able to walk without a cast or crutches.

 

    March 25, 1990: Our missionary friends from Grace Community Church who were serving in Papua, New Guinea, came back to the States on furlough. We arranged for a meeting date to see them later on. This was Tom and Becky Feldpausch and their sons.

Sister Marie and John Visit Us

    March 31, 1990: Sister Marie and her husband John Mednansky stopped by on their way to Ernst and Edna Wenz' 50th wedding anniversary celebration, one to which we'd also been invited. John and Marie drove in their car and we in ours. The celebration was held in either Covina or West Covina, California. We had a great time there, and it was good to see the Wenz' again.

    Ernst was once the Lutheran pastor of our church in Cicero, Illinois, when it was still considered a mission church in its growing stage. He somehow decided to leave the ministry to return to school teaching. He and his wife had been loved by many at that time, and their departure was a sad time for all of us. We knew they lived in California, and we kept in touch throughout the years.

    We'd invited John and Marie to stay at our place, but John decided he wanted to continue on down to San Diego via route 57 which was right near where we exited to find the celebration setting. John and Marie have a son David who lives there, and this route saved quite a bit of mileage by going that way.

Another Trip to Fresno

    May 4-7, 1990: We went to Fresno on one of our many trips there. This time it was for the purpose of seeing Kevin in a church musical, one in which he was to have a major part.

 

    May 13, 1990: Eleanor and I and Erana went to Santa Ana to see and hear Tim and Ronda sing at their church (our former church) and to celebrate Tim's birthday which was on the 12th. I really feel bad about what happened that day.

Mother-In-Law, Erana, Injured

    As we parked the car, I was getting Erana's walker or wheel chair out of the trunk, and I slammed the trunk lid down after I'd gotten it out. But Erana had been leaning on the trunk, and her fingers or hand got caught under the trunk lid.

    I didn't really apologize all that much, as sometimes we (mother-in-law and I) were at odds about various issues at home. But I don't want to leave you with the idea we never got along well; that wouldn't be true, either. The trunk ordeal would, however, be one I wouldn't be able to forget as the next week unfolds.

    May 17, 1990: We went to the monthly clubhouse potluck in our park, and Erana really had a good time at this one. This was on a Thursday, the day the potlucks are always held. Her appetite was good, and she enjoyed the fellowship of those with whom she spoke.

Erana's Health Declines

    May 18,1990: Eleanor took her mother to her doctor who was a respiratory specialist. Erana's problem centered around breathing difficulties the previous night (after the potluck). The doctor said he could find nothing seriously wrong and that maybe she had a touch of pleurisy or arthritic pain.

Erana Taken to the Hospital

    May 19, 1990: After Erana had gone to bed, I heard a terrible noise coming from her bedroom, and I woke Eleanor so she could go in and check on her mother. By that time her mother had already gone back to sleep.

    But at 1:00 a.m., the sounds became even more ominous, and Eleanor immediately went into her mother's bedroom. As she peered through the door, she saw Erana leaning way over to the side of the commode in her adjoining bathroom as though she'd fainted, her head being way down to the side.

    Eleanor tried to see if she could arouse her, but when she couldn't get anywhere, she called the emergency number nine-one-one. What followed is almost a travesty to professionalism.

    I quickly jumped into some clothes so I could run to the gate to let the fire department and paramedics inside the park. When the fire department pulled up, I gave them the gate card to use for entry, and the fireman I spoke with said I didn't have to wait for the paramedics, as they should have their own entry card. As I directed them to our house, I saw paramedics pulling out of our park, and 1 said, "We just called for you. Where are you going?" Their response was "We've got another patient right now, and you'll have to wait until we get back. Is she (Erana) breathing?" I told them I had no way to know what was going on back at the house and that they should just hurry back.

    When I ran back to the house (maybe a city half block), there were the firemen standing in front. I asked why they didn't go inside, and they said, "We couldn't arouse anyone." It seems at that time we may not have had doorbells, but I would have thought they could have knocked loudly or forced entry, as Eleanor was probably very busy trying to work with her mother.

    About that time the paramedics finally arrived (the firemen did practically nothing) and began the testing and questioning they usually pursue. And here's where the almost burlesque events followed.

    Phone calls were made to Erana's doctor to report her vitals and condition, and the conversation seemed unduly lengthy and unnecessary after a while. "Why not rush her to the emergency room at the hospital just a half mile down the street?" I suggested. But that only brought more wasted time to explain their reasoning.

    Then the fire department and paramedics couldn't seem to coordinate as to who was going to handle Erana to take her to the van outside. Whether or not a stretcher should be used to take her out became another question, as they discussed whether they'd be able to get her out the doors because of the angles of too many doors too close together.

    Worse than all that is the fact Erana had wet the bed and herself that night, and all she had on was a thin nightgown. It was a very damp, cold night, and they ended up carrying her like a limp sack of potatoes out to the van—her head and feet being carried, but her bottom sagging way down. It was enough to make us think these guys needed training they never got or got training they never put to practical use. And it was pitiful to watch! It was cold enough for a person who was dry, let alone who was wet, to get pneumonia, we thought.

    What had been determined, even while yet at home, was that Erana's blood pressure was extremely and dangerously low. So when in the emergency room, it didn't take that long before they placed her in ICU, a place I'd spent some time on a couple occasions.

    Eleanor and I spent quite a bit of time talking with Erana. She related the fact the doctor and a team tried inserting a needle into her back to draw out liquids from her lungs which had built up. But all they could extract was blood. That didn't sound right to me. "If there's known liquid in the lungs, and all you are drawing out is blood, could it be you aren't hitting the right spots?" I reasoned of the doctor and his team.

    Worse than breathing difficulty for Erana was the fact she had a terrible backache which made it impossible for her to rest. And so the conversation went for some time beyond the normal allowed visiting hour.

    From Erana's room, we walked a short distance to the night nurses to speak with them. One was a male nurse I'd gotten to know pretty well from my stays there in ICU in the past, and he spoke freely with us about Erana's prognosis.

    Before I go any further, I should explain something about how I felt about Erana's health and longevity as I saw it.

    Somehow through the years of marriage to Eleanor I felt Erana babied herself, always threatening to faint if things didn't go her way. She also got what she wanted from her first husband (my "boss") by threatening to pass out or to cry or feel ill. It didn't set well with me at all in those years.

    Then there was the fact she had aunts, most of whom reached well into their nineties, and I was sure she'd one day walk over my grave as she'd done with so many others. She was always concerned about her health and welfare which to me seemed like too much of "me-ism" rather than taking the welfare of others into account once in a while above her own.

    So as we spoke with the male nurse, I felt this thing would pass, and Erana would be back home with us soon. Even the nurse had told us that the doctor had told them she'd probably be home by Tuesday—this was a Saturday night.

    What bothers me even today is what followed in conversation with that male nurse. And worse than the conversation itself is the fact when I was in that same room Erana was in, I could hear everything the nurses said.

    The conversation went something like, "Well, she is 87, you know, and anything can happen." Then I countered with, "She thinks she's going to live forever, but how much time does one have when they reach 87?"

    I've prayed many times since that night that Erana didn't hear what we were talking about! Not that any amount of prayers could change what she heard or didn't hear. I was trying to salve my conscience most likely.

    Backtracking is most necessary at this point, for something happened before we saw Erana that Saturday night which is quite significant. And that's the fact our church pastor visited her for over a half hour before we'd arrived.

    What's more, when Erana was admitted to ICU, I didn't get to see or to talk to her. Eleanor saw her and talked with her right after she had been placed in ICU. Then that Saturday afternoon both Eleanor and I visited Erana. so all that is recorded above took place that evening after we'd seen Erana in the afternoon.

    Pastor Walter Price responded to Eleanor's request that he stop to see her mother if he could fit it into his schedule by saying he'd go right over to the hospital. He had been there for over a half hour before we saw Erana late that Saturday evening. She spoke of what a good time she had conversing with him.

    Back to the time we were talking with the male nurse, he said he'd phone us if he felt there was any significant change in Erana's condition which would warrant such a call. It appeared he didn't think such a call would be forthcoming and that everything would probably be all right. So we left feeling rather confident Erana would most likely survive this ordeal, as she had done many times in the past in other physical infirmities.

    Getting ready for going to bed that evening, Eleanor and I spent quite a bit of time discussing her mother's health and how we would address that problem when she returned home the next week. We wanted to try avoiding a recurrence of whatever was behind the cause of her low blood pressure which sent her to the hospital in the first place.

Erana Never Left the Hospital

    Around 3:00 a.m. or a little after that, the phone rang. To both of us that meant what we would hear wasn't going to be good news. Since it was Eleanor's mother who was at the hospital, and since we guessed that would be the reason for the call, she answered the phone.

    As I lay there listening, it didn't take long to ascertain what had happened. Eleanor kept her composure, but I knew her mother had died. I was stunned. Here I'd made light of her condition and of how she couldn't expect to live forever that previous night when talking with the male nurse at the hospital, and now she was gone!

    The nurse who phoned told Eleanor that around midnight they'd injected Erana with some sort of medication which eased the back pain, and she told the nurse, "Now I feel I'll be able to rest."

    But around 2:00 a.m. or so they heard her gasping for oxygen, and they went in to see what could be done. As they attended her, her heart stopped beating, and they proceeded to administer life-saving techniques. They kept this up for about an hour before giving up the nurse told Eleanor.

    Most likely she suffocated from the fluid buildup in her lungs, though the medical report listed the cause of death as some heart-associated ailment. Hogwash! That's the usual terminology used to say "Either we goofed, or the doctor did in how he handled the case; but we know how to cover that up." Of course, that's oversimplifying things, but it happens more often than not.

    If it weren't for the fact Eleanor and I know that God could have reversed Erana's condition in spite of the poor medical treatment (and analysis), we'd have pursued a possible malpractice suit. For a medical doctor, who's a respiratory specialist, to draw blood when he's looking for fluid buildup, and to then leave his patient in that state without trying something else or to correct errors made, that's downright incompetence! I'd list his name if I thought it'd help anything, but from experience we've learned most people form their own conclusions as to which doctor is a one or a ten on the scales; and even if they heard all the negatives of others about him, they'd still think he was wonderful if that is what their opinion was before hand.

    Many times had Eleanor and her mother discussed the fact that Erana's prayers were always that she would not die from a lingering return of her cancer, from reaching a vegetative state of helplessness, or to go blind. She was spared all of these! Praise God!

Erana's Funeral

    May 23, 1990: Grandma always wanted to be buried back in Illinois near her sons [Howard and Robert] and husbands. But as time went on and she realized the costs involved with sending a body back there, she gave up on that idea. So she was buried at the Mountain View Cemetery in Beaumont, the service being conducted by Dr. Walter Price of the First Baptist Church of Beaumont. Pastor Price preached an excellent sermon (which we have on audio cassette), all three of our sons spoke at the service, and Tim played the guitar and sang a song.

    All the grandkids (and Betty Edgren) contributed to flowers, as did many others who sent memorials and/or flowers. We sent pictures and the audio cassette to those who were in Wisconsin so they could participate in that way.

[Editor's Note: Her genealogical profile is here: Erana (Kaske) Edgren Lind. There's also a picture of her grave stone here.]

 

    One thing which impressed me and left a good feeling with me was Pastor Price's talk of his last conversation with Erana that Saturday night. He told how she'd related how she prayed for him daily, as she also did for those whom she loved and who may not yet have come to a saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ. He called her a "prayer warrior," a title anyone who claims to know the Lord can be pleased to have (not in a boastful way).

    It's almost a year later as I'm writing the details of Erana's passing, and at that time I didn't know how Eleanor and I were going to make it financially without her mother's assistance, yet somehow the Lord has carried us through. Oh, we aren't going to be able to go on this way without another source of income, but who knows when He is coming back for His church, the redeemed? Maybe we won't need any more than we already have! [Editor: But God did allow them to continue living there in Banning for more than another decade!]

 

    May 26, 1990: Tom and Becky Feldpausch and their two sons came to our home for lunch and some catching up on the events in their ministry, though we'd talked of it when we attended a church service a month or so earlier in Riverside and had dinner with them after that service. They were soon to be returning to Papua New Guinea for another term, and our parting was a little sad even though we knew they were in God's will serving Him as they had and again would.

    It might not hurt to mention that Tom and Becky are missionaries with Wycliffe Bible Translators. We met them when we attended Grace Community Church back in the late seventies or early eighties (Dr. John MacArthur, pastor).

    June 14, 1990: We left for Fresno to attend Justin's kindergarten graduation. Justin is the second son of Jack and Terri, our son and daughter-in-law. As you can see, we've made quite a few trips to Fresno since the kids moved up there in 1988.

    June 17, 1990: Eleanor and I went to Garden Grove to celebrate Chad Robbins' high school graduation. Lowell and Evelyn Robbins, Ronda's folks and Tim's in-laws, hosted the party.

    June 21, 1990: Ronda was working at Disneyland for some time, and she got tickets for us. Ronda played Twiddle-dee and Twiddle-dum[2] parts in the parades given daily. Later on she played one of three Fairy Godmothers, those who lead the parades. She is quite talented and could probably have been movie or television material had she pursued that course earlier.

    Tim came along, as did all three of their boys (our grandsons), the main purpose being to see their mother in the parades. There was one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and we got to actually shake hands with Ronda in the afternoon parade—the participants are not supposed to acknowledge knowing anyone in the audience or to speak with them (or, for that matter, to tell anyone you know this or that person in the parade).

    I know many people really dig into and enjoy going to Disneyland, but ever since I got out of the navy, I determined to stay out of lines as much as is possible, and it aggravates me to see hundreds upon hundreds in a line in front of me anywhere. Guess I need to adhere more closely to the Scripture verse which says basically that patience brings endurance[3], or something like that.

    June 27, 1990: There was a couple in our mobile home park (Ralph and Phyllis Tegarden) who moved into the park shortly after we did, three years ago. They attended the same church we did, and we sometimes went out to dine with them. They were a most loving couple who helped everyone with whom they crossed paths, and many in the park here can attest to that.

    Ralph and Phyllis moved to Indio to be near some of their kids somewhere around the first of August. But a group at the church and from a Bible study group they were in formed a committee (what else?) to arrange for a farewell party for this magnetic couple. The party was held at Griswold's Cafeteria in Redlands, and the pastor and his family and at least another fifty to sixty people were present to wish the Tegarden's well. I witnessed some tears at that dinner.

    I personally know of at least half a dozen people who have told me they found Ralph and Phyllis willing to do anything for them while they were in our park, people who had no affiliation with our church at all. And what better way to witness for the Lord?

Another Trip to see Brother Ed and Family

    October 4, 1990: Eleanor and I went to Tucson, Arizona, to vacation and to stay with Ed and Mily Sedory (my brother and sister-in-law) and EJ, their son.

    Ed and Mily had built a new home there, and this was our first visit and stay after the home was completed. It's a beautiful home and surroundings. Ed has done a lot of work around the place on his own, being a handyman in most trades.

    While there we took a ride to Glendale, a suburb of Phoenix, to attend a dinner and get-together at my sister Marie and John Mednansky's place in honor of a cousin of ours, Marie (Novotney) Hinlicky, and her husband Bill. He's a retired Lutheran pastor, and they reside in or around Connecticut or New Hampshire—at least in that area of the country. Sister Marie put on her usual fantastic spread of good foods, and good conversation and games followed. Ed drove us there and back and was at the dinner as well, of course.

    At Ed and Mily's we took many rides, going to the Pima Air Museum in southeast Tucson and to a mountainous area south of town. We also took a long ride east of town on a higher mountain range, a very scenic drive.

Marsha de Berge Passed Away

    Eleanor's second cousin, Marsha de Berge, died. She had been ill with Alzheimer's disease for a number of years. It was difficult to see her as she was before she died because of how vibrant she had been before the disease possessed her body. Eleanor was the only blood relative who was present at the funeral (I was there, but was not a blood relative), though many old friends were present. Marsha had left all her financial affairs to a friend, Marie Barger, who handled the funeral as well. This was on October 18th of 1990, and we had last seen Marsha alive a couple weeks before—though she was by then comatose and couldn't communicate at all. In spite of that, we prayed over her dying body that God would be merciful to her and grant her enough hearing to accept the message of salvation in case she'd never done it before.

    December 8, 1990: Our Sunday School Class or Bible study (whatever it's called) held its annual Christmas dinner. Groups meet at various homes, usually about ten or twelve at each home. This year we were privileged to be invited to some dear friends' home, Bill and Sandy Freels. They are a most enjoyable and outgoing couple, who though younger than we are, fit into almost any group.

    December 23, 1990: We're off to Fresno again. This time it's for the Christmas celebration at Jack and Terri's home, the first one in their new home. Our son Daniel also was a guest, and we all had a good time exchanging gifts and celebrating our Lord's birthday.

    March 24, 1991: This was only a month ago. I got a phone call from my son Jack in Fresno saying he'd received a call from his boyfriend Jim Schuster in Florida. Jim had very bad news to pass on. His older brother Rick had died from a sudden heart attack at age 41. Rick lived in Southern Illinois, Champaign, where he had been a newspaper employee (working up to editor) for 15 years. He left that position to become a speechwriter for Secretary of State (Illinois) George Ryan just a month or so earlier. We grieved for his family, for Rick was quite a young man!

My Aunt Margaret Passed Away

    April 5, 1991: My Aunt Margaret Brassfield died of cancer on this date in Streator, Illinois, my place of birth. She and her husband and family were serious about worshiping the Lord they loved, and every visit we ever made to that home was accented with prayer or Bible reading by Uncle Everette. He passed away in 1975, and Aunt Margaret was alone—though she had Marilyn and Eunice, two married daughters living nearby, as well as Aunt Emma, a widowed sister.




 
 
 

Chapter 35A

TOC

Chapter 36

Footnotes

1[Return to Text]   Anthony's Fish Grotto had nice views of the San Diego Bay, and your Editor also has many fond memories of eating there with John and Eleanor; as far back as 1974. But in 2016, after 71 years of serving both the tourists admiring the ships and locals, the Port of San Diego did not renew its lease! Why? Because the "San Diego Unified Port District" decided to give a lease to a number of other companies. So Anthony's had to close the restaurant in January of 2017.

2[Return to Text]   These are "Tweedledum" and "Tweedledee" in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. And are also spelled as "Tweedle Dum" and "Tweedle Dee" in various Disney™ works.

3[Return to Text]   Possibly an allusion to either James 5:10 or 1 Peter 2:20.