$$parm1$$ NOTE--To see an on-line version of this newsletter, copy this link and paste it into your web browser: http://www.reminisce.com/rd.asp?id=432&firstname=$$firstname$$&emailaddress=$$email$$&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ If you would like to change or edit your email preferences, please visit your Personal Preferences page. http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=433&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ REMINISCE Newsletter - August 2008 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dear $$firstname$$, When you were a kid, a sure way to beat the dog days of summer was to immerse yourself in adventure through some summer reading. The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and Tom Swift books were like summer serials, making you hungry for the heroes’ next predicament. One reader remembers those days of reading and dreaming in his very own tree house. This month’s series of newsletter items also includes one dad’s adventure on a tin roof and someone else's childhood experiment with a “juiced-up” baseball. If you’ve been enjoying our monthly dose of bonus nostalgia, consider forwarding this newsletter to a friend or family member. If this newsletter was forwarded to you and you’d like a monthly copy of your own, just use the link below to sign up yourself. In the meantime, consider this latest newsletter as part of your summer reading program. --The Folks at Reminisce Sign Up: http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=434&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$ $$parm2$$ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **************************************** NEW! Childhood Friends Doll Puzzle from Reminisce » http://www2.countrystorecatalog.com/rd.asp?id=3424&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ Check Out Reminisce’s 1940s DVD Set » http://www2.countrystorecatalog.com/rd.asp?id=3425&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ **************************************** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In this issue: --> Roofing Dad Had Quite an Exit Strategy --> Winds Aloft --> A Real Jackrabbit Baseball --> Poem: Reminisce --> Over the Back Fence --> Time Capsule Trivia --> A Thought to Remember ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Roofing Dad Had Quite an Exit Strategy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By Donna McGuire Tanner Ocala, Florida My widowed grandmother, Bertha Workman, lived alone at the end of a hollow, near Ansted, West Virginia. She was very skilled at doing most of her own household repairs. The ones she couldn’t handle were always turned over to my father, Basil. He was really handy with tools and never knew any job he couldn’t tackle. One summer, it was decided that Grandma’s weatherworn tin roof would have to be replaced. The roof was very steep on her two-story home. My brother Danny and I watched my father work on the roof that summer. We sat in the shade of a huge cherry tree because we were told to stay out of the way of Dad’s project. My baby sister, Brenda, was there, too. Finally, near sunset, my father drove the final nail; the roof was complete. He looked down at us from the roof with pride beaming on his face. Suddenly, that look was replaced with one of disbelief. He looked around and realized he somehow worked his way to the top and out of reach of the ladder. He had no way to get down. Grandma and my mother, Rachel, soon came out of the house to survey the new roof. He shouted down to Mom his predicament and said, “I have no choice—I have to jump!” Mom screamed back, “No! No! You’ll be killed!” Before she could change his mind, he slid down the shiny new roof like a child on a slide. As he descended, he pounded with a hammer on the roof, hoping this would slow down his speed. He hit the kitchen roof upright on his feet with such force that he couldn’t stop the momentum. He kept running across the flat part, until he reached the edge. He flapped his arms back and forth and jumped. Again, he managed to land on his feet. My mother finally quit screaming and looked like she was about to faint. All Grandma said was, “My lands!” Danny and I looked at each other with disbelief at what we had just seen. Then we fell back onto the grass and broke into hysterical laughter. My father came over to us, flopped on the ground and echoed our laughter. He laughed until tears came to his eyes, tears of relief I’m sure! Mom and Grandma finally had to join in, too. That is one repair job that my father never forgot! View Image: The roof repair was under way. http://www.reminisce.com/rd.asp?id=438&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ View Image: The author’s parents, Basil and Rachel McGuire. http://www.reminisce.com/rd.asp?id=439&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ View Image: The McGuire children (from left), Danny, Brenda and Donna. http://www.reminisce.com/rd.asp?id=440&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Winds Aloft ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By Clay Renick Statesboro, Georgia The desire didn’t make sense. I’d stand in our backyard and look up at the trees. We border wetlands, and the leaves form a curtain hundreds of feet up. “What are you looking at?” my wife would ask. “Don’t know,” I’d say. But the desire continued like a hunger. I’d blame the job. There were problems at work and decisions to make. My role was shifting and the days passed with no “what-if” plan. I need the old tree house, I thought. It was a project that went back to the 1960s, when I was in fifth grade. Joe Landrum and I spotted several holly trees in my side yard. They were tall with a 5-foot gap between trunks. “That’d make a heck of a tree-house site,” Joe said. I agreed. We found enough scrap lumber to link several platforms in the upper reaches. Then we stocked our “home aloft” with enough comic books and Hardy Boys mysteries to last a summer. Air-conditioning was almost nonexistent back then. But the tree house sat near the edge of a road with winds that rippled the tree limbs and left you with the sensation of flight. It took a climb to get there. And the floor plan made it hard to spot people at the top if you stood at ground level and looked up. You could sit there for hours and feel the breeze as the trees swayed and the house leaned like a ship under way. I learned to dream there—not the dreams that come with sleep but the type that put you into the future and into adventure. You could even let your legs hang over the edge or climb out among the upper branches. You need that when there’s change on the horizon and the way isn’t clear. You had time…long amounts of it, since sisters wouldn’t climb and mothers couldn’t see. I still need that. The tree house is gone now. We moved the following year and the new owners took a chain saw to the holly trees. Our new house had old pines and a few oaks. Both would have been difficult for a tree house. Besides, middle school was about to start with a new set of problems. There were zits to deal with, a sudden interest in girls and the conflicting pressure of football, bullies and Boy Scouts. Still, I’d feel the old urge to climb up in some tree limbs and let the wind take my thoughts. Hours aloft can help those what-ifs untangle. We all need focus. So I’m back on the ground. Have been since the fifth grade. Every once in a while, someone will say, “You with us?” “No,” I’ll want to answer. “I’m back in that tree. The way isn’t clear yet.” And it’s okay. You need time to let your legs hang over the edge—even in memory as birds float past and clouds shuffle. Life is more than a job and bills. At best, it’s a fifth-grade summer when you’ve got long afternoons and a stack of comic books near the top branches. Job troubles will always be there when you get back. There’s always some decision to make or crisis that needs a response. But first you need an afternoon and those winds aloft. You get that in a tree house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A Real Jackrabbit Baseball ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By Frank Houlihan Westfield, Massachusetts A group of neighborhood friends and I spent many a day at St. Mary’s Park, in South Bronx, New York. We were all around 13 or 14 years of age, so we headed to the park to play ball every chance we could. One Saturday, we were hanging out there when someone had the bright idea of taking a golf ball, removing the cover and recovering it with white adhesive tape. If you wrapped enough tape around it, that golf ball would become the size of a baseball. It took us quite a while to locate a golf ball. This was 1950, and there were few golf balls used in my neighborhood. Taking the cover off the golf ball was one tough job. We used pliers and a hacksaw. The cover finally came off and was thrown away. One of my friends found some white adhesive tape in the family medicine cabinet. You had to wrap carefully to get the tape to stick evenly around the sphere. It took about two rolls of tape, and we tossed it around to see how it felt. After lunch, six of us arrived back at the park, all wearing our gloves, to try out our new invention. And two of us brought along baseball bats, cracked and taped. Entering the field, we all took a position. There was no catcher but there was a wire backstop with an overhang to stop the foul balls, if needed. In the stands were about two-dozen elderly gentlemen, relaxing in the sun and reading their newspapers. We began to warm up with two old baseballs we brought along for practice. After that, we were ready to play with our new makeover “rabbit baseball.” We took turns pitching and batting by position. The first batter hit two ground balls on the first two pitches. The next pitch he hit a country mile into dead center field. It was run down and picked up at second base on another diamond, over 400 feet away. The ball was thrown back to the pitcher who examined it, and it seemed to be holding up fine. Some of the men in the stands were sitting there with their mouths open. They had just seen a tremendous shot hit by a 14-year-old. The next two shots were hit over the fence in deep left, and the hit to right field took one short hop and hit the fence, nearly 350 feet from home plate. The men in the stands couldn’t believe their eyes. Each of us took swings at this hyped-up ball and did basically the same thing. The ball was being belted to all three outfields. Many of these hits were greater than 325 feet...and none of us had eaten our Wheaties that day, either. After completing batting practice, we kids were milling around talking. Some of the men in the stands approached us. One of them asked, “How are you kids hitting that ball so far?” One of us answered, “Just comes natural, I guess.” The group of us looked at each other and smiled. Someone replied, “Oh heck! Show them.” We took the taped ball and showed the men that this was really a golf ball. One of the men smiled and said, “Well, I’ll be...” A couple other men told us how clever we were. We went home singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game and feeling like major-league batters. Willie Mays, Duke Snider and Mickey Mantle had nothing on us! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Poem: Reminisce ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By Ken Steeber Luray, Virginia I like to reminisce In the corner of my mind, Where memories still are vivid Despite the passage of time. I like to reminisce Of my childhood days at church, Where God’s mysteries were so compelling, It became my lifelong search. I like to reminisce Of those days of growing up, Surviving all the trials of life With mom and dad for guidance And a dash of good old luck. I like to reminisce Of those Saturday matinees Down at the old movie house, Where good fought the bad And always won the day. I like to reminisce Of the very first love of my life, The one who is so very dear to me, She is my loving wife. I like to reminisce Of my children, one and all. They fill me with happy memories That I pleasantly recall. I like to reminisce Of my grandkids, oh, so sweet, Each one so very special, They make my life complete. I like to reminisce Of friends and family dear, Those I held so close to me Who still seem so very near. I like to reminisce Of past accomplishments and deeds Not the ones that seemed important, Only those that pleased. I don’t dwell forever On my reminisce. It’s today that’s ever near me, But it’s yesterday I miss. And when my reminisce days are over, and I no longer trod the Earth, I’ll reminisce in Heaven Of all my days on Earth. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Over the Back Fence ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What more can be said about this man’s chivalrous offer of a knee to sit on? It must have been welcome attention for the smiling milkmaid. The postcard is shared by Shirley Zuelsdorff of Merrill, Wisconsin. It is part of a collection that once belonged to her husband’s Aunt Elsie, who was his mother’s oldest sister. At 17 years of age, Elsie left home and worked as a housekeeper in various cities, but mostly in the Merrill area. As she received postcards from family and friends, she filed them in a postcard album. The cards were written from 1907 to 1919. View Image: http://www.reminisce.com/rd.asp?id=441&refurl=$$refurl-link$$ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Time Capsule Trivia ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From the decades spanning the 1920s to the 1960s, try to guess what year these historic events took place. The answer is given below, but no peeking! As the term Cold War is coined, the investigation of Communist influences leads to the imprisonment of the “Hollywood 10” for refusing to testify. The first of the Dead Sea Scrolls are discovered by a shepherd in a cave near the Dead Sea, in Israel. They include manuscripts of most of the Hebrew Bible and are older than all other known biblical manuscripts. Test pilot and decorated Air Force ace Chuck Yeager breaks the sound barrier, traveling faster than the speed of sound in his rocket-powered Bell X-1 launched from a B-29 bomber. Santa Claus goes on trial in the movie Miracle on 34th Street, and the film Gentleman’s Agreement casts Gregory Peck as a writer who discovers anti-Semitism while pretending to be Jewish. Jackie Robinson joins the Brooklyn Dodgers to become the first modern-era African-American to play major-league baseball. He goes on to hit .297 and capture National League Rookie of the Year honors. For the answer to Time Capsule Trivia, click below. http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=435&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A Thought to Remember ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Reduce errors at work! Arrive late and leave early. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This email was sent to: $$email$$ HAVE A FRIEND who enjoys the good old days? Feel free to forward this newsletter! If this newsletter was forwarded to you, please use this link to sign up for yourself. http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=434&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$ If you do not want to receive further editions of this Newsletter, please use this link to unsubscribe. http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=436&email=$$email$$&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$&OptID=63 To learn more about Reiman Media Group’s use of personal information, please read our Privacy Policy. http://www.reminisce.com/RD.asp?ID=437&pmcode=$$refurl-link$$ Copyright 2008 Reiman Media Group, Inc. All rights reserved. 5400 S. 60th St., P.O. Box 991, Greendale WI 53129-0991 1-800/344-6913