The Class of 1970 had its dreams

Group photo - Class of 1970 40 year reunion a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

My high school class had its 40th reunion last year. I have heard many people talk about high school reunions over the years. Some say they would never go back to a reunion. Others go and have a wonderful time. I have enjoyed my high school reunions very much. This past year my high school class seems to have reconnected on many levels. Many of us have become contacts on Facebook. We have been able to share good times, felt bad for each other in sad times. We have sent prayers to each other when our families have been sick or have had problems. It has been a wonderful experience. Our reunion last October seemed to culminate all of this into a big party where we were able to celebrate who we are now, who we were then, and to be around to see who we become in the future.

We are all now approaching sixty much faster than we want to admit. We all realized that waiting five or ten years to have another reunion is just too long. So we have had a couple of mini reunions since  that have proved to be even more fun and more meaningful than the big party last October.

A group of us got together this evening at our classmates Laura's home for a pot luck dinner, some beer and wine and lots of conversation. We talked about husband and wives, ex's, children, grandchildren, teachers, parents who are getting older and frail, the events of 9/11, retirement, and jobs. Its been wonderful to reconnect and look at the roads we all have taken and been amazed at how those roads have kind of brought us back together.

The class of 70 had its dreams. Today we have our realities. But there is a bond of love and friendship now that many of us had thought we left behind back when we moved that tassel on our graduation caps so many years ago. I am so thankful for these friends today. We are comfort for each other now when many of us need it the most

I love you guys.

In Bondage

Day 170 0f 365 days - Or should that be day 1 0070 of 365 days a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

In 1962 I was ten years old. Every Saturday my mother would give me a quarter so that I could go to the Saturday matinee at the State Theatre in my little home town of Havre de Grace. Before the feature they always showed previews of coming attractions. I will never forget one Saturday afternoon in 1962. The previews started to play and the announcer said "You will not want to miss Dr. No, first in a series of James Bond films." For some reason the words first in a series caught this ten year olds attention. I had never heard of James Bond, Ian Fleming, or Sean Connery. But with this one announcement they all entered my life.

I was so excited. I was going to be able to see the FIRST in a series. I waited for two weeks for the film to open. I waited in line as usual with the quarter held tight in my hand for my admission. This was an event I was not going to miss.  They dimmed the lights in the movie theater, and closed the curtains covering the movie screen. This was always a big production at the State Theater. After showing the previews and a cartoon, they would close the curtains and the theater would go completely dark. Then the curtains would open as the movie started. I sat there as the curtains opened and the now familiar guitar riff of the James Bond theme entered my consciousness for the very first time.

I sat through the movie and never blinked an eye. I was totally captivated. From the images of Ursula Andress walking out of the sea in the bikini with the big knife strapped on her hip, to the images of Sean Connery in all his shirtless glory, this ten year old was mesmerized. I remember I stayed and watched the movie twice that day. Back then once you paid your admission you could stay and watch the movie as many times as you wanted. I could not leave. I had to see it one more time.

Since that day I have been in Bondage to the Bond films. Now almost 50 years later I still wait in anticipation for each new Bond movie. I have read all of Ian Flemings books. I have the entire movie series on DVD. I have the soundtracks and its not unusual to find them playing in my car CD player on any given day. The picture of me here is one that I had fun setting up. Its me with the Wii that my daughters gave me for Christmas in 2009. I have a Wii gun that I can use to do battle with Bond and wipe out the bad guys. I am like that ten year old kid all over again.

1962, first in a series! I never thought then that in November 2012 when I will turn sixty I will be first in line when the next Bond opens. Its almost like they have planned them all just for me.

Identity crisis solved

Just like me - German and Irish - St. Patricks Day Parade Baltimore Maryland a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

I enjoy researching family history. I have spent many hours working on family trees. I pay a monthly fee to use the Ancestry.com web site. For some reason its all very important to me. I have heard many stories told to me over the years about family history. My mother loved to talk about the family and share stories that had been told to her. My research has challenged some of the stories that were told to her, but that also adds to the mystery and fascination with tracing ancestors.

This week I will be celebrating St. Patricks Day. Part of my fathers family immigrated to the United States from Ireland in the 1840's. I celebrated St. David's on March 1 for the other half of my fathers family. They immigrated from Wales and met the Irish half of my family right here in Maryland.

My mothers family immigrated from Germany in the late 1840's. They immigrated from the Hessen area of Bavaria. The patriarch Peter Christian Roth was in the Bavarian Army and brought his family to the United States after he was released from the military.

I was at the St.Patricks Day Parade in Baltimore on Sunday. I saw this beautiful daschund at the parade dressed in green shamrocks. This is me. A German wrapped in shamrocks.

I am going to Ireland and Wales next month. Mark and I are taking my daughter Katie with us as part of her 30th birthday celebration. Mark also has Irish roots to his family. It will be great fun visiting the homeland of our ancestors.

Still Shining - Concord Point Lighthouse - Havre de Grace, Maryland

This says Hometown to me - Concord Point Lighthouse - Havre de Grace a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

I have seen the Eiffel Tower. I have been to Ushuaia, Argentina the southern most city in the world. I stood in the magical Incan city of Machu Pichu in the Andes. I drank Sangria in Barcelona, and ate perogies in Warsaw, Poland. But if you ask me where is my favorite place Concord Point Lighthouse in Havre de Grace, Maryland would be the answer. This lighthouse's history dates back to the War of 1812 and it still stands today as a symbol of the small town of Havre de Grace.

I was born in Havre de Grace and lived there for the first forty years of my life. I spent many hours with this lighthouse. I lived just one block away from Corcord Point when I was a child.  I played in the marshy swamps around the light house for hours. I used to go fishing behind the lighthouse with my Aunt Louise and her cousin Mary when they had their one week vacation each year from the local shoe factory. They worked very hard on the assembly line at Bata Shoe Factory and earned that week off with their sweat. So this week was always special to them and to me. My Aunt Louise was also the lady who bought me first camera.

My mother did not allow me to play down by the river when I was young. Her first husband had drowned in the river not far from this lighthouse, so her fear was honest. But it was not appreciated by this young boy. So although I wasn't allowed, I still spent many hours playing behind this lighthouse and along the water front. Today this location is very popular park with a boardwalk filled with town folks and tourists walking around daily. It was isolated when I was a kid and made for a great place to go skinny dipping. It was a different time. The town was very small. Parents were not afraid to let their children leave the house in the morning and not return until time for supper. Of course if my mother knew I was skinny dipping behind the lighthouse,she might not have felt so safe about letting me run free everyday.

I would never want to return to Havre de Grace and live in a small town again. But when I visit and see this beautiful lighthouse the magic of life in that small town returns.

I love Paris

Eiffel Tower a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

It sounds trite.  But its true.  I do love Paris.  Paris was always a fantasy for me.  From the time I was a child I always wanted to go to Paris.   I remember watching the movie Gentlemen Prefer Blondes on the old Saturday Night At The Movies on NBC when I was a child.  I watched Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell sit at a sidewalk cafe singing When love goes wrong, nothing goes right.  I knew then that I too wanted to see Paris and sit at a sidewalk cafe.  Maybe I couldn't sing with Marilyn and Jane, but in my mind they would be right there with me.  It was a fantasy that stayed with me.

I married in my twenties, had two daughters, bought a house and any fantasy of travel was far from a reality.  I finally was able to travel to Europe for the very first time when I was forty nine years old.   The person I was traveling with had a business conference scheduled for Marseilles.   I was going to France!   Although Marseilles is no where near Paris I was not going to France for the first time and not see Paris.  So we flew to Paris for three days and then took a four hour train ride to Marseilles.  I literally traveled from once corner of France to the other on that trip.

Paris, the city of lights was everything I had hoped for.  I sat at sidewalk cafes.  I walked along the West Bank.  I saw all of the sights.  And then there was the Eiffel Tower, the crown jewel of Paris.  I will never forget my first view of the tower, the elevator ride to the top, and the view of the Seine from the Tower.  My mother used to sing the song "I Love Paris" when I was a child.  It was a favorite of hers.  She never got to Paris.  But when I climbed up the Eiffel Tower her voice was with me singing that song all the way to the top.

I returned to Paris again eight years later.  I was concerned that it would be a let down.   I was afraid it was not be as magical the second time.  I was wrong.  I have done a lot traveling between my first visit to Paris and the second. I have seen many beautiful cities.  But for me nothing compares to Paris. 

I will return to Paris again.  And I know it will woo me and charm me once more.  Marilyn and Jane will be at the cafe. My mother will be singing.  And I will be making the fantasy a reality once more.

"Every time I look down on this timeless town
whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
more and more do I realize:

I love Paris in the springtime.
I love Paris in the fall.
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.

I love Paris every moment,
every moment of the year.
I love Paris, why, oh why do I love Paris?
Because my love is near." (Cole Porter)

Unplanned moments

Just by chance - Lima Peru a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

I have learned one big lesson in life. That lesson is to live in the moment. I sometimes forget this lesson. When I do stress can set in letting doubts and fears can take over. When I start to worry about what will happen tomorrow, next week, next month, life starts to lose some of its joy. That is because I am not enjoying the moment I am experiencing. I am wasting that moment worrying about what is going to happen in the next one. For me this is bad for my relationships, its bad for me, and its mentally unhealthy. So I try to remind myself to stop and enjoy who I am, where I am, and what I am doing in the moment. I don't always live this way, and I can tell when I forget and slip back into the old mindset. But its such a waste to miss one moment of joy today because I am worrying about tomorrow.

This photo I took in Lima Peru in January 2010 reminds me of this lesson everytime I look at it. I just happened to be in Lima the very day the city was celebrating its 475th anniversary. It was completely unplanned. I had no idea when I planned the vacation that I would be there on a special day. I was in my hotel and heard loud drums and music outside the window. I walked out of my hotel and followed the noise to Plaza de Armas just a couple of blocks away. When I arrived in the plaza I saw a huge parade full of colorful costumes, musicians, religious floats, and huge masses of people on the street. I immediately started to take pictures of the scene. I was trying to capture the feeling of the day with just the right photos and became frustrated because there was so much going on that I could not make up my mind where to plan the best photos. Finally I turned around and snapped a quick photo. Completely unplanned and unedited I came up with this photo. I could have stood in that crowd for hours planning and hoping for the best photograph. Instead I accidently snapped a photo without any thought or plan. I could have missed the moment had I overthought or overplanned.

There are too many wonderful moments in life to chance missing them by wasting the moment worrying about tomorrow. I need to print that statement out and post it over my monitor so I can read it each morning.

Nun in Crocs - Warsaw Poland

Nun in Crocs - Warsaw Poland a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

I love the way great artists named their portraits with very simple names that describe the portrait exactly.  For example Vermeer's painting Girl With The Pearl Earring.   Or Da Vinci's Woman with an Ermine.   So in like fashion I call this Nun in Crocs. As an amateur photographer I am always looking for something just a little bit off, just a little bit out of the ordinary when I am taking photos.  Most of time I don't find it.  The majority of my travel photos are of churches and cathedrals, European castles, rivers, and food that I have eaten.  But every now and then I come across something that speaks to the quiet rebel in me.  I was in Warsaw, Poland last spring.  I was taking my usual castle, church, food photos.  We walked down a small alley just off the main tourist street in Warsaw.  I saw this beautiful blue archway between two old buildings.  The blue on the wall seemed to jump right out at me and demanded a photograph.  I took several pictures of the arch from a couple of different angles and eventually came up with one that satisfied me.  I was looking forward to getting the photo on my PC so I could work with it and maybe print it out for my house.  Just as I was preparing to walk on, two nuns walked right in front of me and walked towards the archway.  At that moment I had to continue talking pictures.  The two nuns in their habits were the perfect touch to finishing off the photograph.   When I looked a little closer I realized one of the nuns was wearing crocs.  This really spoke to me.  Two nuns in full habits walking in the street in Warsaw and one was wearing crocs on her feet.  I fell in love with  that nun at that moment.  She was a quiet rebel.  She was devoted to her church.  She wore the habit as her order required.  But deep down inside she kept that little bit of individuality which makes her unique. 

All around us is the ordinary.  But you never know when a nun with crocs will cross your path.  Keep your eyes open.  Look for the unusual in the norm.  And you may be surprised at what you see.

In Cars..dedicated to Dad

Model cars at Mark's friends Ralph and John's home in Los Angeles a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live
In cars

Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days
In cars


Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please?
If I open my door
In cars (Gary Numan)

The lyrics to the classic 1980's song Cars by Gary Numan could have been written for my father. My father loved cars. And I do believe that like the first words of the song, my father felt safest of all in cars. My father had MANY cars over the years. And I do mean MANY. We never knew what to expect when we looked out to the driveway in front of our house when we were growing up.   On any given day there could be a new car sitting unannounced in the driveway.

I have no idea how much money my father paid in car loans over the years. He rarely took the time to pay off a car loan before trading the car in for a newer model. The local car dealership knew him by name. The salesmen would practically trip over each other trying to get out to the lot when they would see him drive up. They knew the minute he drove up a commission was in their immediate future. He loved the challenge of the trade and working out the deal never realizing that he was being used unfairly by the dealership.

One of the saddest things my sister and I ever had to do was to take the car keys away from our aging father. In his later years he developed alzheimer's disease and it was unsafe for him to continue driving. We both knew we would never be able to get him to give up his car, so we had to work with his doctor's to take away his keys. We took him to the Veteran's Hospital where he was being treated and had the doctor ask for his keys. At first he was in tears, then he became very angry. He told the doctor and the nurses to just go ahead and kill him. They had taken his life from him. We brought him back home from the doctors visit and his car was sitting in the driveway. He got out of the car we were driving and walked over to his car and touched it lovingly. We watched as he walked around and around the car touching it in disbelief. I know it was all but impossible for us to both hold back our tears that afternoon.

Last October Mark and I took a trip to Los Angeles to visit a high school of Mark's named Ralph. Ralph's husband John collects die cast car models and has walls of them on display in his house. The minute I saw them I thought of Dad and all of the cars he owned. Many of them were represented on the wall at Ralph and John's. I could almost see my father there in the house, walking along the wall looking at the cars and touching each one remembering all of the ones he had owned.

My father passed away many years ago now. But he is still around in many ways. Looking at the cars on the wall that day I could almost hear him saying those last lines in the lyric of the song:

Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please?
If I open my door
In cars

Union Soldier and Sailers Memorial Baltimore Maryland - Photo editing

Union Soldier and Sailers Memorial Baltimore Maryland a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

I recently downloaded the Picsa photo editor.  I have been having fun editing old photos with Picsa and seeing the new results..  This is an interesting photo I took last year.  I posted it to Flickr and had a few hits on the photo, but it was not an outstanding photo in my photo stream.   I edited the photo today and reposted the new version.  Within one days time I already had more hits on the photo than I had for a year on the original.  Its amazing what a little editing will do.  Its the same picture, but its presented differently.  It really makes me realize what a difference presentation can make.  I think it can also work on a personal level.  I am the same person that I have always been, but how I present myself on a daily basis can make a difference in the way others see me. With a little editing each day I can change the way people see me.  It does not change who I am but it can change the way the others perceive me. 

The object in the photo is interesting in its own way without any editing, but editing brings the attention to the photo that it deserves.

  Baltimore is a city full of fascinating monuments.  You can tell much about any cities history from its monuments.  Maryland was a divided state during the Civil War.  Much of the state supported the Confederacy although Maryland never secceeded from the Union.  This is the only Civil War monument in Baltimore dedicated to the Union.  One the opposite corner of the Wyman Park Dell you will find the  monument to Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson of the Confederacy.

The statue was created by Adolphe A. Weiman and was dedicated in 1909. The monument depicts a Union soldier striding forward with the Goddess Victory to his right and the Goddess Bellona (War) to his left. Behind Bellona rises a fig tree.

On the Trail - Clifton Park - Baltimore, Maryland

On the Trail - Clifton Park - Baltimore, Maryland a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

Last year I was taking photographs around Baltimore of various monuments and memorials.  Baltimore is known as the Monumental City due to the number of monuments within the city.  Some are well known but many are obscure.   Clifton Park is home of "On the Trail," a 7'4" bronze sculpture of an American Indian by Edward Berge.  Berge is from Maryland and has several other statues in the city.  The statue in Clifton Park was created by him at the Rodan School in Paris.  The statue is difficult to find if you are not sure where to look for it.  It is hidden in Clifton Park on the north east side of Baltimore.  It is within a golf course and standing in tall weeds near the road.  You can drive right by it and not see it if you are not aware that its there.  He does seem a little out of place here, lost in a golf course.

When I was a child I went to the Salvation Army Camp Tomahawk in Martinsburg, W. Va.  At the camp we ate all of our meals in a small quanset hut.  After each meal we were encourage to clean up the plates at our table by singing the song "Where or where is big chief Tomahawk?"  The table with the cleanest stack of dishes was awarded a small statue of Chief Tomahawk which remained at the table until the next meal. 

When I was in high school our school team was the Havre de Grace Warriors.  We also had a girls marching group for parades and football games called The Warriorettes.  The girls would wear short American Indian styled dresses and feathers in a head dress. 

It was a more innocent time back then. Before the days of political corretness we never thought there was any harm in these things.  Today these concepts seem about as out of place as an Indian in a golf course.

The Real Braveheart

William Wallace Memorial in Baltimores Druid Hill Park a photo by litlesam on Flickr.

The Real Braveheart

I am not a fan of Mel Gibson. My Scottish friend Gillian has told me that most Scots are not fans of Mel Gibson either. His portrayal of William Wallace insulted many people in Scotland for its historic inaccuracies. But that’s Hollywood. Historical epics are not made to tell history, they are made to make money. While in Scotland in 2009 I was able to visit Sterling Castle and see the fields where William Wallace led the battle for Scotland’s independence. It brought back to memory the statue of William Wallace I had seen here in Baltimore in Druid Hill Park. I told my friends in Scotland about the memorial here in the park. That’s part of my love of travel, to be able to visit other countries, meet friends, and then be able to make a connection with something familiar back home.

After returning from Scotland I drove over to Druid Hill Park to take some photos. The William Wallace Memorial in the park was created by artist David Watson Stevenson, who was a member of the Royal Academy of Scotland. The monument was presented to the city of Baltimore in 1893 by William Wallace Spence. It was then rededicated one hundred years later by the St. Andrew’s Society of Baltimore. I really like the way the statue stands with his sword lifted facing the skyline of Baltimore.

Having been to Sterling and seen the castle and the battleground there, this monument has a special connection for me when I see it. Another connection is the fact that for the past few years Baltimore’s Gay Pride Festival has been located in Druid Hill Park. William Wallace now stands surrounded by the GLBT community each year in the park. The state of Maryland is now involved in a large battle for marriage rights. The battle for freedom continues today. I find it appropriate that he stands here today representing the fight for freedom. Move aside Mel Gibson. Here is the true Braveheart.

Here's looking at you...the first blog

Although I enjoy reading blogs I have never put much thought into creating one.  Every spring I try to come up with a  leisure project for the new year.    In 2009 I decided to take some time exploring the city of Baltimore to take photographs of the many monuments around the city.  I enjoyed this so much that last year year I decided to do another series of photographs.  This time my subject was Baltimore Churches.  Before anyone reading this goes any farther let me explain that I am not a professional photographer.  But I have had a love of taking pictures since I was 8 years old.  My Aunt Louise bought me my first camera when I was eight.  She bought it at a little store located at the old Bata Hotel behind the Bata Shoe Factory in Harford County.  She worked very hard on the manufacturing line at the factory and my appreciation of the fact that she spent some of her hard earned money to buy me camera has always stayed with me all of these years.  I immediately started to buy film with my allowance and took many photos as a child.  Some of them were kind of strange.  I used to take my younger sister Shelley out and pose her in obscure places to make what I thought were dramatic photos that told a story.  I still like to take photos that tell stories, real or fictional.  So, I am going to take photos and write a blog about them for my spring 2011 project.

To quote my favorite movie Casablanca: "Here's looking at you kid."  I hope we meet here again soon.

Flickr

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