xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Silver Threads August 1996 oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox Silver Threads (formerly Senior Group Newsletter) is the bi-monthly publication of an informal group of netizens interested in how the net serves the three score plus internet user and vice-versa. The newsletter is mailed to subscribers via e-mail and posted at http://bcn.boulder.co.us/community/senior-citizens/center.html The current issue WWW edition is at http://www.freenet.mb.ca/sthreads There is no charge. Just contact editor, Jim Olson, at olsonjam@uwec.edu ********************************************** Contents Editorial Bits and Bytes Features and Gleanings from the Net Introducing Notices and Reviews The Cup of Memory Caught in the Web xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox EDITORIAL BITS AND BYTES xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Please note our new web site in the heading. It is developing into a regular Silver Threads Web page with several new features thanks to Tom Kyle and the Blue Sky FreeNet in Winnipeg. Some of our interspersed lighter material in this issue comes from seniornet member janeyWA@aol.com who with her brother has been publishing a hobby newsletter, "The Full Moon Gazette," that they send to a few friends. We were fortunate enough to get several copies having contributed some verse to one issue. Our old car Logo has gone the way of progress as we are finding it increasingly difficult to display ascii art in the many different fonts used by the variety of mail programs of our readers. We have forgone the health tips this issue and substituted a recipe from Roy and Thelma along with some cures they suggest for common ailments. This may insure the need for consultation with Kathrynne Holden, MS, RD" , our gracious health consultant in our next issue. I want to thank the many readers who have sent in material for our "Cup of Memory" series and note that we now have a sizable reserve to fill our cups for future issues and will be using them as space permits. oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo FEATURES AND GLEANINGS FROM THE NET xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Passing the Torch Jim Olson The Olympic games represent one of the symbolic moments in world cultural history when the Olympic Torch is passed from one location on the globe to another and from one generation of athletes to the next. One of the highlights of the opening ceremonies was the images of athletes from the past Olympics passing the torch to the next generation. We are constantly doing much of the same thing on a daily basis when as parents, teachers, siblings, role models of various kinds, and now as Elders in the global village as we pass the torch on to new generations; and as some of us have found, are also enlightened by the glow of new torches lit and displayed for us as we carry on intergenerational communication. Some of our readers share their thoughts here on the process: To set the mood we hear from Maryanne Ward who tells of her experience as a Torch bearer: ______ The Torch Relay through Tallahassee was yesterday and what an experience! My strongest impression is of the heat. The temperature was 99 and with the humidity, the heat index was 110. That didn't stop 7000 people from turning out for the event. All of downtown was decorated and it felt like something out of "The Music Man." My wheelchair was fitted with a bracket for the torch and while I was waiting for the shuttle bus to take me to my leg of the relay, a bunch of kids stopped by. "Is that The Torch," asked one. "That's it," said,"would you like to hold it?" "Oh yes," he said bigeyed. They passed it around solemnly. One little boy raised it over his head and said, "Hooray USA." They put it back and shook my hand and thanked me. In the meantime, people would stand next to me and get their picture taken. What a hoot! When I got delivered to the beginning of my segment, I saw lots of friends waiting. A man on a motorcycle activated the fuel canister in the base of the torch and I moved out on the roadway. The runner approached and gave me the flame and I was off. I had my power chair wide open and cruised along. People were clapping and cheering. It seemed to last forever and at the same time, it flashed by in an instant. Finally I saw the next runner and passed him the flame. The same man on the motorcycle expelled all the fuel from the torch and gave it back. My friends gathered around to hug me and to hold the torch. Suddenly it was all over. What a high! The flame is headed south and for a brief time it was in my care thanks to lots of people who gave me lots of help. ______ Mike Moldeven gives us a more formal approach: It is customary, in our culture, for a person to document a Last Will and Testament that leaves behind, after his or her death, decisions on the distribution of material things. That's another matter entirely. Some years ago I read a book that discussed ethical wills and included examples that had been written over the centuries by men and women who wanted to leave a final personal message to the living from a parent, grandparent -- someone -- to survivors who are of the highest significance to the writer. An "ethical will" is not easy to write - nor to read. The writer probes and evaluates personal convictions and biases, and confronts reality rather than perceptions and illusions. The process compels self-examination of what had been learned over a lifetime, facing up to failures as well as successes, and deciding what really counted in the long run. Here is a sample: I am now well along in years. It is time, perhaps, for me to contemplate once again what I've done and left undone as a father and as a grandfather. I say 'once again' but this time my advanced age presses me to record my thoughts for all of you to read or listen to at a suitable time after I am gone. I am far more concerned that you hear me on a matter far more important than mere substance. As a salaried worker, and later as a businessman, my outlook on the world was pragmatic and, I hope, not overly sanctimonious. I recall being referred to more than once as a practical guy. And yet, in these latter years, I've questioned both my doubts and my certainties with a deeper awareness than I feel I've had previously; perhaps it's an expanded intuition and sensitivity that accompanies aging. I've come to accept that there is purpose to our universe, and therefore purpose to us who are of its essence. To me, to be without purpose is to be without meaning; all of life, all of us, would be meaningless. I reject a meaningless life -- a meaningless family. I hope that, in time, each of you will also accept that our lives have meaning, therefore purpose, and guide yourselves and your progeny accordingly. Live together in harmony. Consider the family when an issue foments stresses among you. Help each other in times of need and turmoil even though you reside at great distances and your lifestyles and outlooks on life differ greatly. Honor and care for Mom -- Grandma. Make her old age happy years, as far as it is in your power to do so. She more than deserves such consideration from each of you. You have heard Mom gently reproach me at times about my not giving enough attention to my children and grandchildren. She always wanted more for each of you. Be worthy of her devotion. Carry the family heritage with dignity. Though you discard customs and rituals you consider trivial, bear in mind many have come down the centuries and withstood the tests of time and travail. Do not mourn me. I have enjoyed my life. Move on, using for good purposes the knowledge and skills you have acquired over the years. You will serve your family best by serving humankind. Remember me affectionately as your Dad and Grandpa ___________ Art Rifkin reflects on his experience as a net pal to a number of youngsters and his own role as a grandparent; In September, 1995, I received a E-mail message from Mike Dougherty, who broached the idea of being a "pen-pal" to a group of 4th grade students. Mike is the principal of the Germantown Hills Elementary School where he and Erin Powers, a teacher who woul d be contacting me, worked. Erin is the teacher who will be introducing the children to electronic communications. I told Mike that I was very interested in the program and would be glad to contribute. A few weeks later I received my first message, reproduced here Hi ArtR Hi How is the weather in Colorado? Do you like to write email with us? What are your hobbies? Where are you traveling to? How many people are in your family? Have you ever skied on the Rockey Mountains? We live in Germantown Hills. Our names are James, Michael, Danielle, and Rachel. We like basketball, soccor, baseball, and PE. Oh! and of course we LOVE SCHOOL! Write back soon. Your Friends, the gang! :) ps Have fun on your trip...we will be excited to hear about it! Keep in touch. And many others in the exchange like this excerpt: "In English we are writing papers. The one we are doing write now is on Grandparents and how they are special to us. Maybe we will share one of our writings with you if you like. On the computers we are making stories on a program called Storybook Weaver. It is really good. If you have grandchildren then you should ge t this for them. They will love it." A number came from from individual students and I discovered the distinctive voice of each of the correspondents. I suppose it should not come as a surprise, but it did, to me. It's something that gives me great joy. The children in Germantown Hills are forming and have not yet reached the hard shell adolescent years. They are fascinated by everything they see and hear about. Reaching out with email is a brand new experience for them, and they find it very exciting. Not terribly different from my own reaction. I love to watch them learn and grow. I'm amazed by their eagerness to learn about everything. I want to help and observe and I know that I also learn from them. What do I find compelling about this adventure? Well first of all, I love kids. My own grandchildren range in age from almost seventeen to six. All of them except the youngest have outgrown the age and class of these youngsters in Germantown Hills. Two of my granddaughters are pre-teens. I enjoy all of them, but as they mature it becomes a little more difficult to relate. Not impossible, but just more difficult. Adolescents really launch themselves into their own lives and have little time, or interest in those old fogies, their grandparents. It is really the best time of life in many respects with regard to enjoying the little ones. We are no longer responsible for them, for their education, their discipline, their action s in the world at large. We have only to observe them, talk to them, teach them and learn from them. Yes, and love them. _________ Mildred Bluming describes how her group passes the torch: The Andrus Volunteers at USC go into middle and high schools in Los Angeles and share with the school population what it means to age. Our purpose is two-fold. We would like to break the stereotype of ageism. We make clear to them that when you've seen one old person you haven't seen them all. How you age depends a great deal on how you take care of yourself while you are young. The second thought we would like to transmit is hat you are never too old to learn. We ask teachers to have the students write a short essay of how they will be when they are 65 years of age. This is done before we come. Using those essays as a jumping off point for discussion is a useful tool to get discussions started. After we are through with our presentation, we ask the students to write a few sentences about what they learned from our presentation. The feedback has been wonderful. The comment we hear quite often is that our presentation has relieved them of the fear of growing old. That is exactly what our group wanted to achieve. It is rewarding for us to mingle with young students and it is educational for them to meet with a group of healthy seniors, still vital, still going strong and giving of self to the community. ________________________ Finally Fran Hintze suggests the internet as means of passing the Torch back and forth: The Generation Gap and the internet: The internet provides the best vehicle for closing the gap. We talk to and write to many people whose ideas we respect and treasure or ignore. We do not know their faces or ages as a general rule. This became most obvious to me when I enrolled in an internet course at the virtual university. Here we soon formed working groups and I am sure the torch was passed from old to young and young to old. Fran Hintze Calgary AB ************************************************ The Great Swami answers his mail: Q: Who was the only Kamikaze pilot to survive the war? Ans: Chicken Terriyaki Q: What do you call an Italian suppository? Ans: An innuendo. Q: What has a silver top and is full of beer. Ans: Grandma Q: What does "Posh Mortem: refer to? Ans: Death styles of the rich and famous. ************************************************* Disruptive and Eruptive Ray Dunbar I live in a town called Taupo in the centre of the North Island of New Zealand, and at the other end of our lake is a group of three volcanoes. One of these, Mount Ruapehu, has been playing up a bit lately, It has covered several thousand square kilometres with volcanic ash, and altered the courses of some of the local rivers, and worst of all for me, it completely disrupted the end of the ski season. Here in Taupo the eruptions hardly effected us at all. The wind blew all the ash away to the west, over a mainly farming and forested area. We had some very minor disruptions to air services, and the main road south was closed a couple of times. We did however some spectacular views of the eruptions. My wife and I would go out in the evenings down to the lake to walk the dogs, and we would watch the eruptions that were occurring every ten to twenty minuets. During the quiet periods clouds of sulfuric gas would roll down the sides of the mountain, and then there would be a great cloud of ash and rock thrown out of the crater that go thousands of feet up into the air. The sunsets were unbelievable, gold and red patterns streaked right across the evening sky. One evening in particular , there must have been a jet stream high up, and the patterns were changing every few seconds, all the colours of the rainbow a bit like the northern lights. The mountain has quietened down now, and it is now that the eruptions are starting to effect us. The farmers are all happy, the light covering of ash that received apparently contains all the components of fertiliser, potash, sulphur, and many trace elements that are good for grass growth, and the grass is growing like never before. Taupo is a town of about fifteen thousand people, and its population usually doubles at this time of the year with all the holiday makers. This year the population must have more than quadrupled. People are flocking to Mount Ruapehu for a look. The guided walking tours to the crater are booked out every day. It usually takes me four or five minutes to drive across town, but now I can get stuck in a traffic jam for up to twenty minutes. I have been working through the holiday period, doing maintenance on some of the local sawmills. A quick trip to town for some parts has suddenly become a marathon. Ray D ***************************************** More Swami: Q: What crawls and goes Ding Dong? Ans: A wounded Avon Lady. Q. What happened to the Japanese ship carrying yoyos that was lost in the Sea of Japan? Ans: It sank twenty three times. Q. What does Rigor Morris mean? Ans: The cat is dead. ***************************** Notes from an Aging Trekkie Mel Cooperman MIC35WILD@AOL.COM East Hills, NY I have been a Star Trek addict since the first series of the 1960's. Through the decades. I have seen the crew of the Good Ship Enterprise grow old along with me, and, with the exception of Spock, put on the pounds with the years like ordinary human beings. I have followed the "Next Generation" into the adventures of Deep Space 9 and Voyager and their black and female skippers. I identify with Voyager's gourmet chef, Neelix, and find the prospect of a DS9 policeman (Odo) who may disguise himself as a parking meter somewhat intimidating. The transporter gives me pause, however. Having landed in Lisbon with my luggage having gone to Nairobi, the thought of entrusting my body to the technology of the luggage handling robots at the new Denver airport is chilling. There is my upper half in London while my legs are running about the Johannesburg airport! The tractor beam should have a great appeal for parents and nannies who take children out to the parks. Put a tracer chip on the kid, and no more panics. Use that tractor beam and Zap! Back into the stroller and on the way home. Should sell millions of them, unless the police buy them all up. No more hot pursuits! No more breathless chases through urban back alleys. Zap! Into the cop car! Beam into the tank at the station. Neat, effortless and bloodless. And speaking of mouth watering, how about that replicator. ********************************************* Some signs that you are having a bad day: Your horn gets stuck on the LA freeway while you are following a group of Hell's Angels Your twin forgets your birthday You go to send the clothes to the cleaner that you wore home from the New Year's Eve party and there aren't any. You turn on the news and they are showing emergency routes out of the city, ************************* A Recipe for Sussex Pond Pudding. (19th. cent.) Roy and Thelma Harden. Leamington Elders Line, xuegxad@csv.warwick.ac.uk 8oz. Self-raising flour. 1 level teaspoon baking powder. 4oz. Suet. Pinch of Salt. Demerara sugar, butter (as much as you like! ) and 1 whole lemon. Mix dry ingredients with water to make a pastry, roll out. Line a pudding basin and leave enough to make a lid. Put a layer of sugar to in the bowl to cover about one third of the pastry. Cover this layer with butter cut into small pieces. Hold the lemon over the bowl and pierce the skin with a fork. Then stand the lemon on its end in the layer of sugar and butter. Continue layering the sugar and butter until the lemon is covered. Cover the bowl with baking paper and foil and steam for two hours. Serve with real custard or thick cream ********************************************** Also from Roy and Thelma theses cures for what ails you: A CHRONIC HEADACHE? Wear Hemlock Leaves under the feet, changing them daily. (!!!) FEELING FEVERISH? Wear a dried toad in the armpit and it will ward off a fever. A SORE THROAT. Fasten a rasher of fatty bacon round the neck. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox INTRODUCING xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo "Dorothy G. Barnhouse" Greetings.. I am 63, born in the US, lived many years in (West) Germany, and have been working in Nicaragua since 1988. My professional education and experience are equally divided between music and languages. Before coming to Nicaragua I taught voice and languages for singers in San Francisco. I came to help start an English department at the agricultural college (scientists obviously needing to be able to read technical English) and did that for a few years. On the side I began singing some songs with a few kids in a neighboring poor barrio. More and more kids came, they wanted to learn keyboard, recorder, songs and dances, neighboring barrios came and wanted the same for their kids... and in short, due mainly to the demand of the children, and with modest donations from friends in Germany and the US, I now manage a program called Musica en los Barrios which reaches about 200-250 children in 10 barrios. Together with a Nicaraguan music teacher, I am training about 20 young people, who had already received some musical training from a Spanish Dominican priest, to teach recorder and basic music to smaller children. Because some of these young Nicaraguans are growing into leadership roles, I am thinking about when it will be right for me to leave it in their hands. Probably some time in 1997 I will leave, though I will still be committed to the project and will have to continue to raise money for it because our "clients" are poor children from poor barrios of a poor country in Latin America. Why teach music to kids who lack basic housing, nutrition, education, health care? You may well ask. I did too, but the answer is simply, - because the kids demanded it of me. They were far more interested in doing music than the students at the ag. school were in learning English. When I leave here in 1997, I would like to be able to live in North Germany, where I have some of my closest friends. But that is still up in the air. In any case, Internet does bring us all closer together doesn't it! ______________ Patricia Westerlake A few facts about myself: Married a farmer in 1948. Having never been on a farm, I had to learned fast. Charlie and I raised 2 boys,and 2 girls. All have masters in their fields. I operated a confinement hog house from '66 to '80, while my husband, Charlie maintained a beef cow herd and fattened cattle. Due to health reasons, Charlie retired in '80 and I went back to college. Rec'd my B.A. in acct'g from Western Il in '83. Became interested in computers while in school, but didn't get my first Mac until '88 when I retired from acct'g. In addition to computers, my hobbies are woodworking; toys cars, small boxes, puzzles and some furniture; and stained glass lamps and windows. Our grade school has an enrollment of about 60. I work with the children on a 4 to 1 basis. Older children, grades 5 & 6 are required to spend 10 minutes each session practicing their typing. Then they may play any of the educational games that I have loaded on the computers. Favorites are Amazon Trail, Oregon Trail, Yukon Trail, Toggle Trouble Math, Under Sea Reading, Grammar Games, Spelling Blizzard, Odell Down Under, and many more. Most of the games I purchased thru a teacher discount program. I go about 7:30 each day and stay until 11:30 or 12:00. School starts at 8:30 when the last bus comes, but the town children are scheduled at 8:00 so we have enough time for all. The older children spend 6 weeks in the fall with me in the mornings. Then they are switched to afternoons where they are monitored by the Learning Center Teacher. I maintain my status as a volunteer, so that I can take time off when I want. It has been so long since I have written anything more than a short letter to the children, ************************** A young theologian named Fiddle refused to accept his degree. "It's bad enough being named Fiddle, Without being Fiddle D.D. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox NOTICES AND REVIEWS xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Essay Contest for Homebound Harvey Lisker We teach seniors at Florida International University Elders Institute how to enrich their lives through the use of computers. Originally we started using the University system computers but found it very confusing and got little in the way of instruction from younger computer (wizards)who knew computers but not how to teach them to seniors. To get around the internet more effectively and with pleasure we have joined through a firm in Miami called ICANECT which is reportedly community oriented. We like that and wish to support such groups. Originally,we assisted Dr. Estelle-Witzling_Moskowitz who is in her 70's and active staff member of Florida Internation University/Phoenix Elders Institute and produces the Phoenix/El Fenix for Stay-at-home-Elders. She,together with FIU and several commercial groups in Florida have co-sponsored a new contest that is running until September 2,1996 . We would appreciate any help you can give to publicize the contest. It is for Florida residents,although future ones may extend across the country. If you are age 60 or over and have been confined to home for at least six months due to physical or psychological limitations,you are invited to enter the contest. The best entries will be published. First prize=$500.Second prize=$300. Third prize=$150 and Fourth prize=$50. To enter the contest simply write an essay of no more than 750 words briefly describing why you are homebound,and explaining in detail your accomplishments,your amusements,your experiences,as well as how you've remained in life's mainstream,open to new ideas,expanding your life despite the constrictions of remaining at home. Send your entry of no more than 750 words to Florida International University,Phoenix/Elders Institute, 3000 NE 145 Street,CC 301, North Miami,Fl 33181. For further information contact Diane Otis at FIU(305)919-5910 We want as many home bound seniors as possible to see and enter this contest. Thanks for your interest and any and all assistance you can offer in this matter. Harvey Lisker Surfside,Fl ______________ Senior Pen Pals list Roger Craddock rojbc@uk.pi.net is compiling a list of charter members for a newsgroup with a proposed title of rec.arts.correspondence.older+wiser. Those wish to be on that list are invited to write Roger Craddock. _____________ Travel Adventure Stories Wanted geri@rmi.net I am a freelance writer doing an article about seniors who have taken active, adventuresome vacations or trips -- such as hiking, backpacking, kayaking, skiing. I'd love to hear from anyone who is willing to share details of the experience and be quoted. I'm writing the article for travel sections of newspapers. If you send a few sentences by e-mail and telephone number, I will call to do phone interview. Thanks. ********************************** A lady, one day in the park, Drank luminous paint for a lark. She was listless and gray For the rest of the day, But brightened up right after dark - Myla Treen, Deceased xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox The Cup Of Memory xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Journey Across Canada Joyce McCartney My name is Joyce McCartney, and like many people, I am originally from England, having emigrated with my parents when I was 15 years old. The journey across Canada is still vivid in my memory, as we came by boat from Liverpool, my parents and younger sister and I. Most of the sea journey I was sea-sick, and my sister had no problem, so that she enjoyed all the meals aboard, while I steadily got thinner and shakier! Eventually, when we reached St. Johns Nfdld. I was beginning to feel a touch better, until we got off the ship, for a brief stop before going on to Halifax. Then, to my horror, I was 'landsick'! Standing in front of a shop window, I could see my image waving about in the reflection... Then on to Halifax and a train from there to Montreal. Then another train from Montreal to Edmonton, which seemed an adventure initially, but after a long day, then another, seemed to be boring to two young girls, who pestered their father for snacks every time the man came down with his tray... A well remembered incident is the fun of the berths on the train. My sister and I were in the upper bunks above our parents, accessible by a ladder which was then removed by the attendants. We quickly discovered that those in the upper bunks could see into other upper bunks since curtains were not available above... We had a tremendous giggling fit, when a heavy older lady sat up in her bunk, curlers in her hair, and rang for the porter to bring the ladder for a trip to the bathroom. Unfortunately, he was busy, and she became more and more desperate as we became more and more giggly, peeking over at her in her difficult situation...first she tried to stretch a short fat leg over the side, but obviously was petrified, then she slid her considerable rear over the edge while trying to hang on above, of course that didn't work, then she gave little moans and groans - all adding to the scenario for us, as we were now in paroxysms and choking with laughter. Finally the porter did indeed arrive, and she scuttled away down the length of the train - poor soul! ________________ "A Bump On The Head". Steve Rasmussen, member of Nacodoches SeniorNet. I was a child who, in today's culture, could have wound up in the discarded fetus buckets of an abortion clinic. Back in the year 1926 that option to my parents was not readily available, and so as an infant I met John Carl (J.C.) Rasmussen and his wife, Marie. These were the folks I would acknowledge as my parents for the rest of my life although they were much older than my biological parents were likely to have been. The place was New Orleans, and this precious memory begins at my approximate age five. Marie's mother (Grandma to me and Elizabeth Patton to the rest of the world) was eighty-nine when I was five. I remember Grandma as a diminutive bowed figure that I saw usually in an oversized rocking chair. Grandma used to go to bed each afternoon around five p.m., but there was a ritual about her goodnights that involved Steve. If I wasn't out doing something I probably was not supposed to be doing, my grandmother's bedtime was a signal for me to spend several minutes with her. Grandma and I sat and talked to each other. She used to ask me about both the good and the mischievous things that I had done that day. She always encouraged me and we never separated without ganging up on the Lord with a prayer. There was a very specific ritual during our daily moments of togetherness. Grandma always partook of a ceramic bowl brimming with steaming hot black coffee before she lay down to sleep. That was Cajun stuff. I don't really know if I sipped that coffee or only pretended to do so, but the ritual was that Grandma always invited me to help her drink her bowl of coffee before she lay down. The bowl in which that coffee was served is of particular consequence in this memory. It was thick, strong and of a color I now associate with the term "ochre". The reason the bowl is important is due to the fact that the accidental misuse of the object was responsible for a three week interval in which I was spoiled rotten. Marie was French and Irish. She was very loving and volatile and sometimes expressed herself by pretending to be tougher than she was. Such was the case one day when she was in the kitchen and I was working her to distraction, and she responded by flipping that coffee bowl in my direction. Marie had thrown things in my general direction many a time previously, but this time I moved and turned my head just before she 'pitched', and that bowl caught me on the back of my head just above the hairline. Mother was so sorry and so loving and apologetic to me about having hit me with the bowl that I got away with a multitudinous number of transgressions in the ensuing weeks. That was fun capitalized, and now provides me with one of my most precious memories, and a smiling sense of happiness. __________ The End of the Hindenburg Max Goettner; supplied by patmci@net-gate.com I awoke on the morning of May 6, 1937 to a beautiful sunny day. We had the day off from school and my father had promised to take all seven of us kids plus my mother to Seaside (NJ) for the day to visit our Aunt and Uncle. She had a hardware store there and Uncle Frank was the Chief-of-Police. We always enjoyed visiting them because they made a big fuss over us. I guess that was because they had no children of their own. After packing a lunch we set off from our Glenside, PA home for the Jersey shore. We always stopped st Browns Mills on the way to have our lunch. Shortly after arriving at the store, we heard something outside. It was a GIANT AIR SHIP! The Hindenburg was flying low right above the Boulevard. It was only about three or four hundred feet (or so it seemed) off the ground. We could see the passengers waving to us from behind the windows of the gondola and we were waving furiously back at them. After it passed, we asked my father if we could stop at the Lakehurst Naval Air Station on the way home so we could see it moor. We got there after five and it was kind of drizzly, so my father would only let me and my younger brother, Lewis, get out of the car. My mother and five sisters stayed behind. We went out onto the field with all the other lookers-on and waited and waited and waited. I guess we waited almost two hours, in fact we were getting ready to leave when some one yelled, "There it is." The airship circled around a little bit and started to let out its ballast and drop its lines so that the ground crew could lead it onto the mooring mast. When all of a sudden there was a terrible flash, a fire. It was as if you put a match under the center of a piece of newspaper and the way the flame breaks through. Everyone waiting on the ground was screaming and running, as at the time we were directly underneath it. I never saw so many umbrellas and pocket books dropped or thrown to the ground as people ran to get out of the way. As we got further away we couldn't get back in again because it was cordoned off. My 11-year-old brother and I got separated from my father and we went back to the car to tell my mother what happened. We waited another half-hour for my father. He told us that he helped a man and his daughter get to safety. They had jumped out and when he saw them they were walking around in a daze and didn't even recognize each other. When we tried to leave the naval base we had a hard time going against all the traffic coming in; ambulances,fire equipment and thrill seekers who had heard about it. We had to find a different way home through the back roads of New Jersey. I remember Daddy stopping at a small grocery store to get us all some snacks. It was quite a treat, because he had never done that before. **************************** Patient: Doc, I'm always forgetting stuff. What shall I do? Doc: Pay me in advance. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox Caught in the Web xoooxoxoxxxxxxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Net Travel Goodies Lotte Evans Travelling is one of my favourite pastimes, be it in person, watching a travel movie, or surfing the net for "Travel Goodies'. I especially enjoy this sort of travel when I plan a trip in the foreseeable future, which I am doing at present. There is a tremendous amount of information on places to go to, how to get there, the history, sights and anything else the prospective traveller might be interested in. For starters here are a couple of web urls to check out. Nerdworld http://www.nerdworld.com/nw188.html where you will find information on travel covering just about any destination from Alaska to the United Kingdom. Do you fancy to go by Concorde or by Manx Airlines? Nerdworld is the web site to tell you all about it. Now as we all know travel can be expensive and there is nothing more enjoyable to make ones dollar go as far as possible therefore you might wish to try to check ou what a travel club has to offer. If you do try http://www.hway.net/betc/travel.htm this club offers discounts galore, it might suit you and looking at what is on offer might be just the ticket for you. If none of these urls interest you than try looking around by using one of the search engines which can take you anywhere you wish. My two favourites are http:www.opentext.com or http://altavista.digital.com. Put a couple of keywords in the search line and off you go. For example I am planning to go to the UK in September and naturally London will be the town I will visit. Now if you just put London as a search word you will get thousands of pages. But if you just enter London sights you will get only ten sites offering such 'Goodies' as Virtual City London: getting around London from Daily Markets to tips on money and slang. Are you taking children on your trip? There is a site called Children's London packed with ideas and information for everyone from toddlers to teenagers. If it isn't a big city you are hankering to visit just enter any place in the globe into either 'simple' or 'powersearch' and the world is your oyster. If you wish to find out a bit more about your destination have a look at usenet. There are at least fifteen discussion groups (starting with rec.travel Africa and working down the alphabet) where you find people give or ask for information. Discussions in these groups are on such topics train connections, clothes to take, what sights to see, what money to take etc. It gives me always a No matter when or how you plan your travels always remember anticipation is a large part of travel pleasure so make your first destination the Internet and have fun. Lotte Evans ************************************* "I have to find my Poodle," she said doggedly. "I turned in my gun,"Officer Duata declared disarmingly," and I quit." he added resignedly. ************************************ Reader's Personal Home Pages We continue to explore personal home pages of our readers and have added several interesting ones since we last listed them: http://home.earthlink.net/~joestewart- The home page of Joe Stewart, a self styled high school nerd from California whose group of nerds has been helping seniors in local retirement homes get on line. http://pen.k12.va.us/~apembert - Anne Pembereton's home page. Anne is a senior volunteer working with the Academy One - internet education project for K-12. http://www.en.com/users/dsieg - Dick Seig is a senior working with seniors in the PC Users group in Cinncinatti. http://www.tcns.co.uk/chatback/elders.html - home page of a group of UK seniors. http://laplaza.taos.nm.us/~tom/tom.html - Tom Bruce form Taos, NM. http://www.why.net/home/exuian/irishcook/index.html - Pat Scott's page of irish recipes http://www2.coastalnet.com/~cn3468/index.html - Richard Boyd ______________ Senior Network in Publishing For a look at the work of some senior writers go to http://www2.coastalnet.com/~cn3468/index.html It contains essays, poetry and short stories all displayed in fonts that are easy to read. ************************************************************** GRAND CHILD by James Hursey (excerpted) How I remember my own children's birth. So giddy, truly, was I on that day That, indeed, my feet hardly touched the earth, And I felt that I would simply float away. It's different, somehow, when a grandchild's born: This time it's a quieter elation. While our own are conceived in joy, then formed, A grandchild is true procreation. Some grand eternal cycle's consummate And we, as grandpas, know that we've fulfilled Our urgent task as species' advocate, Upon which the generations build. Now is the joy that the little one Gives us growing up; the real pleasure Is knowing, as we age, he'll carry on: Therein, I think, lies grandpa's greatest treasure. Nature provides us with the impetus To reproduce, but life's not true complete Until our own child has provided us A happy grandchild playing at our feet.