The Way We Were

Tales of my youth and yours too...we hope.

If you don't think the way we were was any different than the way we are...Back in 1952, the headline for one Glendale (CA) News Press was:  WEATHERMAN SEES CLOUDS.  

My head was in the clouds too, a certain girl said she like me.  I happened to be crazy about that certain girl too.  This did not bode well for J.J Hamilton, who was my News Press supervisor. Everyday, but Sunday, he would stop in front of my house and drop my bundle of papers. 

The day I was so in love was the same day I finished my paper route and found I was eight papers short. I called Mr. Hamilton and told him. He got up from his dinner and drove by and gave me eight papers.  The next day, I went into the shed behind the garage and found eight newspapers.  I never told him. 

Bonnie and I went steady for a whole week and then she gave me back the ring I had given her to wear around her neck.  I was devestated, that ring cost about two dollars and had a lovely horsehoe on it.

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ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 23, 2013 at 04:00 AM
I did not agree with the engineering for boy's bicycles. The boys had a stiffener bar that went from just below the seat straight foreward to the steering column. The girl's bikes had no such bar..just two from under the seat and curved down to the steering column down below. This was probably to allow for dresses. Problem was, boys had something else that did not respond well to a foot slipping off pedal and coming down hard....on the bar just waiting for....them. It was so painful. Sometimes, we dropped our bikes and bent the pedal shaft so that we could announce our presence with a clank clank clank. We had a variety of ways to shuttle our friends around,,,sitting on handle bars or on the cross member I was talking about. Throwing papers was always fun. After a while, you could put the paper just where you wanted to. Wrist action was the main skill. One time, I stuck a paper in the space between louvers in a shutter. And another time, I took out a line of potted plants on a front porch.....a cross between bowling and pool.. I wonder what the fate was of all those bicycles...probably melted down for steel...But, the bicycle opened a new door for kids in the 40's. During the war, you could not buy a bike anywhere.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 23, 2013 at 04:14 AM
How to settle an argument: Back when TV was just coming to our homes, funny looking wiry configurations began appearing on roof tops..The TV aerial...The very few people on our block who got TV first, invited neighbors over to see this new wonder. People sat in chairs and just stared at test patterns. " Isn"t that amazing" they said. Popcorn was served while viewing test patterns. People were a little zany then too. The women played Canasta with two decks of card. Stella Dallas was still going through her trials on radio, and my Mother heard a a woman request prayer for Stella Dallas at her weekly Bible study. The TV heart throb back then in L. A was a very creepy Korla Pandit who played the organ. If you dont believe me..Google Korla Pandit and see what I mean. My best friend and I got into a heated argument as to which TV was the best...DuMont or Magnavox. His folks had a Magnavox and my folks were looking at DuMont. We decided to settle the argument if I would say Magnavox was best if he would day DuMont was best. We did that and the argument was over. Do you think there is a lesson to learned here ?
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 23, 2013 at 10:06 PM
Again, this blog is directed to a certain time in history and a certain people who grew up then...the 1940's and 1950's. This time in our history was a great time of transition from the bare necessities due to the war, to the birth of a new affluence this country had yet to experience. I remember well VJ day. My first indication was when I was walking home from school, and I saw a front door open, and a lady's arm appeared and she was ringing a bell. I was six years old then. That night, people were driving around, honking their horns and gasolene stations were giving gasolene away. It took a little time, but suddenly, you could buy all the meat you wanted and you did not need food stamps. This was the time of the birth of the new suburbs,,,carbon copy houses going up on what had been an Orange grove. The boys came home and went to school. Army and Navy stores opened with loads of canteens, tents, knives. and any thing that smacked of war. In just four years, television came on line, and, people for the first time in history, could see what was happening in addition to hearing. This new venue gave birth to entertainment on an escalating scale never known before. New shows popped up, new names, new masters of ceremonies. And....the first live coverage...around the clock..of a rescue attempt of a little girl..Kathy Fiscus who fell down a well. Much changed in a very quick time, and that is what I wish to tell you about. (To be continued)
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 01:07 AM
An adult view of the way we were comes from allot of understanding about the way we were that was not present when we were the way we were. I don't remember a time when I wondered why I felt this or that; I just felt it and proceeded on......my perceptions being the conductor of my orchestra. I began to sense a severing off of my feelings that I belonged to,some pre-cast mold and I found a place where I would do the molding. I molded my self into a person who found solace in isolation from the world's noise and embraced the shadowy forms of the drivers of all lonely and forgotten places and things. Left behind to cast shadows from the ethereal light.of those who tried and cried, those who shared and cared, those who never yawned nor said a common place thing, but burned like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars. Just a taste of honey from my honey pot. (to be continued).
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 04:57 AM
As kids in junior high back in the 40's and 50', we were always looking at other kids and trying to figure out where we fell in line in terms of being cute, handsome, tougher, or weaker. I always felt on the low end of the stick. But that did not stop me from falling so in love with certain girls. Oh, wow, intense emotions. There was one girl at Clark Jr, High that was so cute, she frightened me. Bonnie Williams was here name. I found out where she lived, and one night, I just had to go near to where she was. I crept outside and got my bike and pedaled about three miles up hill to Verdugo City. I haulted short of getting too close to her house for fear I would be discovered. I was ashamed to indicate I was throwing my hat in the ring. Why I was like that, not sure. As fate would have it, she was standing out on the curb and she saw me. "BOB"...she came running, and I was beside myself. I said something I regret to this very day. "I bet you think I came up here to see you," She hung her head and said "No" and walked back to her house. I never saw her again. I found out that she and her Mother moved suddenly to Youngstown, Ohio. Jimmie Durante and his troupe stopped in Calabash N. Carolina for supper. A lovely lady waited on them. From that time on.., long ago.., Jimmy closed his show with "Good night Miss Calabash, wherever you are. No one knew what he meant. So, good night Bonnie Williams, wherever you are. Yes, I came to see you. Bob
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 05:23 AM
Looking back on the Summer of 1958, it was the most memorable Summer of my life. I was 19. I had resigned my job as a line man helper with the Los Angeles Water and Power, And I bought a motorcycle. The open road called to me. I made good money and saved it. I stuffed my wallet full of cash and started out with no destination. I drove up through the central valley of California. One the second night out, I stayed in Dunsmuir California, It was cool, pine, and lake country. I left early the next morning and headed for Crater Lake. I had not been on the road for very long and I saw a 50 Ford on its top in the road. There was a higfhway Patrolman waiting for assistance. I stopped to talk to him. That is when I saw a woman's leg under the hood of the car. A gash on her leg and but a small drop of blood still hanging to the wound. DEAD, It sobered me considerably. I entered Crater Lake Park and I walked down a long path to water's edge. As we all have done, I picked up a stone and whispered my name to it and threw it as hard as I could out into the lake. That rock is still there. Leaving the park, I headed North to Bend, Oregon. I noticed a pickup truck coming up on me very fast, and I had it in my head he did not like motor cycle riders. so I stepped my bike up to 80 and he stepped his truck up to 80. He was towing a boat..I glanced in my side view mirror, He had lost control and was rolling in a cloud of dust. Death was in the air that day...long ago.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 05:47 AM
I woke up one Saturday morning when I was 16, and I was still in the spell of the party the night before. This is in 1955.....I still caught a waft of her perfume.. I had gone to a party, un-invited, But, no matter..we were all kids. The parents were gone..so considerate of their daughter! The place was packed with cool dudes and smashing chicks..and some were making out in dark corners, some were dancing and I was sitting alone on a couch, I so envied them all..every one had someone. The music garnished the low lighting so magic...I was so alone untll one very, very cute girl came over and sat on my lap. I was terrorized. I said " I am a flesh eating plant and I threw my arms around her. She laughed and turned around and said "You are a bashful boy, aren't you?" I said that, yes, I was. She said.."Let me help you, and with that, she pulled me onto the dance floor and we danced....Oh, God, I can't dance, but we did anyway. The song melted us together, her head on my shoulder and there was a rainbow cloud around me. She had so much understanding and all the tools. "I remember, that night in may....Sho-do- and shobee....In the still, in the still of the night.." I stuttured.."Can I see you again.....I wrote doiwn on a piece of paper what she said. The next morning, I found the piece of paper..."Kerr on Clump" a street in the San Fernando Valley. Never could find her.....Never in my life have I had a night like that one. And you wonder why I love the Past.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 06:20 AM
I have turned into CYNIC...no one does what I suggest in blogs like this. So let me use reverse Psychology,,under no circumstances are you to Google "In the still of the night" by the Five Satins. That was the song Kerr on Clump and i danced to on that magic night in 1955. Father McKenzie here...writing the words to a sermon no one will hear. There was a certain set of circumstances that were meant to be together...This song, ...driving down the main drag, and seeing a lowered 55 merc with Olds Fiesta Hubcaps flashing at you. Us valley kids developed an underground fraternity that not many knew about...THE COASTERS. We wanted to find out who could coast the furthest from the Bob;s Big Boy at La Crescenta and Verdugo in Montrose..down Canada to Glendale. It was all down hill, except it got a little dicey around Glendale College. We had fifty feet to accelerate and then cut the engine. Some of the kids went to extremes, like removing the front windshield to reduce drag,,,over inflating the tires..There was a real debate about the role of the weight of the car. Some said momentum worked in the long run, but others said weight reduced the acceleration speed on the launch. My 40 CHEVY came in third..I made it to Doran st. The winner went about three blocks further. Then the Fuzz discovered our fun which happed at about 2 A.M, No charges were filed, but we made the news. The apex of teen age exhistance was in the fifties..period.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 24, 2013 at 11:46 PM
Youth...adolesence..puberty...what ever you want to call it....it was an earthquake of sorts..a changing of the guard...the clearing of a table...a new hand of cards..a great rumbling...one foot in childhood. one foot being immersed in adult hood. But, to experience this rumbling in the fifties was a treasure few have experienced. America, on a new hand of cards in itself. Basic cars with terrible profiles, became tail finned expressions of speed and luxury. I remember the Father of one of my pals who had just bought a brand new DeSoto Firedome Eight. I can still see him with cigar in mouth just overcome by all of this. "I just don't know what I am going to do with all of this horsepower." A new music coming on stream...no one could really describe it, but it had an energy and most of it was about love affairs. Some one either lost a love or was lusting after a new one. It was always that way, in a sense, but this new stage that was set...amplified everything to a fever's pitch. The most piercing queation of the time was "WHO AM I" We needed an identification, and we looked around ...like selecting a prom dress, or a new hair style. Clothing came on line, and some of it had the go to hell look. Black leather jackets and motorcycle boots or peggers and a good flat top with with fenders. Memories light the corners of my mind...misty watercolored memories, of the way we were. Was it so simple then, or has time erased every line....Mems, of the way we were.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 28, 2013 at 07:08 PM
The way were were has turned in the way I was. Not sure anyone read or enjoys. All of these stories was to get you in the mood to tell us your stories. Oh well. My Father was a very outgoing friendly person. He loved just about everybody. One Friday night, he was in the mood to celebrate the weekend. He wanted Mom and I to go to a show with him and we poured ice water on his enthusiasm. Actually, he poured a little of his own water on it. He was listening to some hoe down music over the TV and he began dancing ...whirling around,,have a great time until he slipped on a throw rug and slid under the dining room table. Table and chairs went flying. The poor man decided he would go out by himself. He came back about an hour later crest fallen. He had had surgery for hemmorhoids and the surgeon cut a nerve or muscle of some kind so that when he had to go, he had to go. The pain hit him down near the Union Station and it was getting tense, so he parked,and used his favorite hat and tie. He left them in the middle of the parking lot. Turn out the lights, the party was over.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 28, 2013 at 11:24 PM
There are about as many observations and thoughts pertaining to out there as one cares to observe..and to see some poetic, hidden truth buried in there somewhere. For reasons unknown, I am drawn to little things on the periphery. This began when I was a very young lad. I spent more hours outside in the wee hours than I care to mention. Now, there really is no quiet time...the structure of life has been turned on end. Time has taken its toll on every thing dear, The family, for example,,,,Values.....Children have been robbed of their childhoods....Now, it is a garish colored plastic something that works wonders with several batteries. Back in the early fifties, I decided to do a study on what we do not see in our day. So, I began with pre Dawn in Sparr Heights, California. Bye the way, Tolstoy is keeping count, but I shall pull an end run around him. Back then, the only sounds at four A.M around 3509 Rosemary Ave, was the sound of the milk man and his truck. It was darkest at that hour..the off shore flow from cooling air from the San Gabriels had done some janitorial work in sweeping pollution towards the Sea. The Verdugo Hills, so silhouetted agains the city lights beyond. I dressed that research day and just walked around our neighborhood. (Tolstoy???) A few lights beginning to show as early risers rubbed their eyes, headed for the bathroom !....fixed their hot coffee, stepped onto front porch for the L A Times. OK Tolstoy, just saw your warning...run...
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 12:06 AM
This is called managing your blog posts ! If you are getting bored because you are looking for my point, you have just made my point! Let me help....My mind lets go a thousand things, like dates of wars and deaths of kings, and yet, recalls the very hour, twas Noon by yonder village tower....and on that last Blue Moon in May, the wind came briskly up the way..crisping the Brook Beside the road, It paused a moment to set down its load...a load of pine scents and shook listlessly..two petals from the Wild Rose Tree. The rays of the Sun did not light the land scape..it stung it into color. Night Blooming Jasmine closing up for a much deserved day sleep. After all, it had dusted the night air with its very soul...The morning glory opened and yawned..."My time to shine" The lowly snail crawled out from under his rock. And began his slow trek to oh..what ever struck his fancy..don't worry, he wont go far. .The Sun rose to its Zenith....then began its slow fall to the horizon....The day, which began with a yawn and coffee and progressed through all sorts of activites , began the cycle of going home..remember this is 1952. Dinner around the table...relaxing around the TV while junior did his home work. Dishes waahed and put away...Little ones tucked in....the first yawns....the brushing of teeth ....turning back the sheets...hitting the sack. And the snail looked around to make sure no one was watching, and crawled back to his rock.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 03:57 PM
I rec'd encouragement for ed of this site to continue on with my spell of thinking that my stories are interesting. This may be a ploy to make the endless jabber on gun control to be not so bad after all via comparison:) There was an older and more mature kid on our block who liked me and wanted to help me with my girl problems. My problem was I loved a certain girl so much, but was afraid to tell her so. Of course what seemed like love was puppy love..but it was real to the puppy. He decided he was going to teach me how to woo. So, he says "No girl likes a sloppy and a false look of being a hood. You need to get your hair cut and get rid of the greasy ducktail. When ever you see her, smile instead of hanging your head. Engage her in conversation about what she likes. Ask her out for a date even if a chaperone goes with you. Even if you are not the cutest kid around, you can shine in personality. Ask yourself if you were a girl, would you like a date with your self. Do you have any questions?" I did: "How come it is that beeing so smart on this, you can;t find any girl to go out with you?" From that moment on, he didn't seem to like me so much.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 05:01 PM
I just researched the 1906 S.F. Quake. It struck about Five in the morning.. there is a dis-agreement on the strength. but close to an 8 pointer. The length of the San Andreas Rupture made the Loma Prietta look like child's play.Strange quake in way. Very short duration..about a minute..There was a pre jolt followed by a minute of quiet and then it hit. Described as a rolling with very sharp jolts. My maternal grandparents lived there, then. My Mother had not neen born yet, but her sister was a little girl and her response according the my Grandmother was: "I don't like this kind of picnic." They buried their valuables in their back yard and found a way out of town. I think they went to Bradford, Ohio because that is where my Mother was born. I never heard about them returning for their valuables.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 05:35 PM
Pssst....Joan...its Bob...I'm over here..."Got to be good lookin cause he's so hard to see" Beattles..Come Together. Hey, I didnt see my concluding post on the unseen things of the day so wrote another one. I think my last one was best..the one about the capricious wind and wind chime. Could you stick that one back in right under my beginning entry,?,,,Thanks..
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 06:55 PM
June 1953...I was 14. Mom and Dad wanted a relaxing Summer and so they arranged for me to spend the Summer with Grandma and Aunt Mimi in Tulsa. Mimi had polio when she was three and crippled. She walked using braces and crutches. She learned to repair watches and worked at Tick of Time Downtown. M. never married and she and G were lifetime companions. G managed the home and M earned the living. In their eyes, I coud do no wrong; in Glendale Ca, I could only do wrong. G.and M lived in 1/2 of a duplex on Frisco..about five blocks West of downtown. Tulsa had one of the most striking skylines anywhere. The taller buildings exploded out of the ground growing taller as you progressed into downtown. This culminated in Tulsa'a tallest, the NBT bldg. It was shaped like a hypodermic needle and the dome on top was lit with colored lights. Frisco was a street of white duplexes on the West and mostly vacant on the East. All of that block was the home of old grandmotherly people. They could be seen watering their flower gardens in the cool of the morning. but about ten AM, they disappeared into their cooler homes. All of them wore sun bonnets, all were wrinkled, and all of them liked me. Mrs Brown next door called me "Big Boy" although I was only about 5'4". Now, that Summer, Mrs Brown also had a female counter part to me. Her name was Carla. The plexes were only about five feet apart, and Carla's bedroom right across from mine. Pls Mr Tolstoy, be kind.best 2 come
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 07:14 PM
Part 2 to Tulsa 1953: The home of G and M was a line of rooms, one in back of the other. The living room, the dining, the kitchen, main bed...then small bed on rear, A very small bath at the junction of the 2 beds. As I said, Carla's bed was straight across brom mine..about five beween through which ran a moss covered brick walk.I arrived there one eve about six PM. It was HOT. The first morning and after dressing and having B fast....I ventured out onto the covered front porch. On that porch was an old swing for about two people and 2 old metal chairs. So, I am sitting on the swing, admiring the surroundings and I hear "Hi" I turn to my right and there was a girl..a very cute girl..a tanned farm girl. 'HI" And then she goes on to tell me that she was lying on her bed right next to the window as mine was right next to my window..and she proceeds to tell me " I watched you undress last night" I was not quite prepared for this. I never thought about the open window nor being visible to any one. ..Any way..we did become the best of summer friends and took many walks together...talked for hours at night through open windows..Took her over to Uncle Lem's and Aunt Nonie's house which was right in back of our place. I took her up the steep stairs to the very hot upper attic/room where there were rows and rows of old dresses and a mirror...something happened up there, and I am not going to tell you what it was.................
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 29, 2013 at 08:20 PM
Tulsa pt 4 .....THE JERICO CLUB..THE MOST BRUTALLY SHOCKING DISPLAY OF THE HUMAN ANIMAL i HAVE EVER SEEN. Of course this was how it appeared to a fourteen year old boy. Our duplex was the second one from the corner of Third and Frisco. On the corner was a windowless brick building with one entry door. The Jerico Club. Oklahoma was a dry state then and was to remain so until 1959. This was a boon to bootleggers who deliever their goods late at night. The Queen of the bootleggers here was one Cleo Epps...almost a full blood Indian. Years later, her body found at the bottom of a well. Before I tell what I saw ...let me describe my perception of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Tulsa used to be called the Oil Capitol of the World because over 300 oil companies either headquartered here or had an office here. Big, big money built this town, but here was a good percentage of just middle class who lived quite well and were good citizens. The low lifes were a special breed of low lifes. Ma Barker used to headquarter here. There was a certain feel to a hot Tulsa night. The skyline all lit up...there was a collective message the skyline sent......"We hold a mystery, you are safe as long as you keep your distance and don't ask too many questions" Right across Third Street, there was a line of old. three story brick apartment buildings. The ground giving back its heat..the weary seeking sleep ...the lost wandering..and the skline just winked at you...word limit impedes much..
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 30, 2013 at 05:29 AM
OK..I grew up in L.A and you are the City by the BAY..big deal...cuz..this is about Rock and Roll. The two major players to bring R&B and R&R to LA were Hunter Hancock and Dick Hugg (Huggy Boy) "Coming to you from the window of John Dolphins big store.....swing to sweet, bee bop to ballad..blues to boogy. " All the kids listened to Hunter in the day and Huggy boy at night. Hunter had a deal with Hancock Gas stations and it was called "Lucky Mileage" He read out a humber and if your odometer was withing five miles of it, you pulled into a Hancock Sta and got 15 gal of gas free. So, I parked around the corner from a Hancock...speedometer in hand...dialed in the number..stuck the speedo back in and claimed my prize. I got a letter from Hancock Petroleum thanking me for playing lucky mileage. That was nice of them.
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 30, 2013 at 04:12 PM
I can't believe I am getting away with all of this so what stuff. What worries me is that the way I was is still the way I am ! Alot of romanticism has gone away. I loved the days of old cabinet radios with glowing dials. I loved pulling the cabinet out away from the wall and gazing down into a soft glowing and warm little world of vacuum tubes. There was a dusty smell and it was quality dust. Transistors are so unromantic. Also, I loved auto engines back then. So simple, not a chamber of computerized mayhem. you could reach every thing on the engine. Now, you have to remove about half of everything to fix just one thing. Did you ever hear an old woman speak of pushing the gas peddle? Mash down on the foot feed. I could identify with imperfection...for example, old Chevy six cyl cars used a vacuum system to operate the windshield wipers, and if you accellerated, the wipers would stop for a short time. The old LaSalle (what?) was GM's lower priced Cadillac. The problem was it would not run above a certain altitude, so, instead of making it so it would run, an altimeter was on the dash to warn you that you better not drive any higher. You could get away with murder in fixing old cars. We boys drove up the Angeles Crest HIghway in an old Merc. and the brakes went out. We got it stopped by plowing through some bushes. The brake fluid was low and all of us had to pee. Not a problem. Worked fine. Adohr milk was named for daugher named Rhoda...Have a good one...
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 30, 2013 at 10:45 PM
Monument Valley, AZ...1980's...Four Wheel Drive ATV..Huge tires. August. We drove along a dry wash cutting through some rocky bluffs, and found a carved out cavern of sorts at a bend in the wash. The water from Summer Monsoons had eaten into the rock so far, that we could drive into the cavern and be completely covered by the overhang. A sandy floor . We had all the camping equip needed including several ice chests...stocked ! As we needed no tent we rolled our sleeping bags out on the sand, out up our folding chairs, and built a fire from driftwood. We broke out the wine and just sat there. It was more than quiet..it was anti sound. We decided to walk up the wash to see what we could find while the fire worked its way into hot coals...for the steaks ! We came upon a low water dam and behind it was a deep blue pond.or small lake. A herd of cows were grazing around the pond. The wine plus 5,000 ft altitude enticed us to get naked and go for a swim. We noticed thunderstorm clouds rapidly building to the East...We waded out and that water WAS cold. When water to neck level, we broke out in a swim. "I wonder how deep this gets" I said. Blythe replied, "We need to be careful, we have had wine and we have no life preservers:" That was a good point,so I swam back to shore and found a good piece of driftwood. I swam back with it to where Blythe was. The thunderstorms were mature and we heard distant rumbles of thunder. (to be continued) Hi Tolstoy :)
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 31, 2013 at 12:06 AM
My wife, Blythe, was tired from staying afloat, and I was tired too. Both of us realized we were playing with our lives. The water was cold. After we had rested awhile, I told her I was going to go down and see if I could find the bottom. Blythe said no. I We swam back to shore to get dressed only to find that Blythe's Levis were missing. She noticed a cow not far away that had them hooked around his horns. Oh, gads. I ran after him and he just looked at me with those big eyes, I was able to retrieve her Levis. The storms were over us now and the lightning was intense..loud claps of thunder. We ran as far as we could at 5,000 feet alt. Panting, we just resigned ourselves to be soaked with cold rain and strolled along with fire and rain all around. We arrived back at our "cave" shivering. the fire was still in the burning stage, and I was glad I had dragged a good amount of driftwood into our cave...and I did pile it on. We towled off and changed into dry clothing. I got the steaks out, raked some coals off to the side and used a grate we brought to grill them. Blythe was the vegetable person; she got the pot, filled it with water from the storm rain cascading down from the walls above the entrance...Oh, Gad..multi tasking...More wine..storm moved on towards tec nos Pas and Zihi Dush Jhini Peak.!!! Sat on stones, enjoyed a great dinner, fire toning down..so dark outside..stars beginning to appear..we looked at our sleeping bags, and winked. continued)
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 31, 2013 at 12:56 AM
The close of a very special day....glad I did not know then that she would be taken from me in two years...Cancer. Non Hodgkins B cell lymphoma. In retro, I wonder if she knew back then....We lay on our backs...,warm,..at peace,... staring at the shadows dancing on the walls from the embers and little resurgences of flame.."Bob, there was some thing about today...special....I wonder if we are the first campers here...no remnants of previous fires,,no empty cans scattered..hard to believe ..this cave was saved just for us....." It was special" I said. I will never forget chasing the cow to retrieve your pants...and then our walk back here..how cold and wet we were. She was silent for a moment and then said: " Bob, if I pass before you do, my last request would be to be cremated and my ashes spread here amongst the sand." I sat bolt upright "Blythe, here we are in a special place in a special time...would you get off this Thanatopsis theme?" Her response was to say nothing at all. She simply got up and went to the AtV and put a disk in the player. She came back to me and held out out hand. We danced, bare feet in soft sands....After that last dance, we cuddled in each other's arms and fell asleep."When I fall in love...it will be forever....."
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 31, 2013 at 08:03 PM
One year after our camping trip to Monument Valley, Blythe passed away peacefully in her sleep. I remembered her request to be cremated and her ashes sprinkled at our last camp. A place where we swam...slogged through the rain..froze..warmed by the fire.and danced..I arrived at that same cave with her ashes in an urn. I looked up the draw where we walked together...No one had discovered our cave...our footprints still in the sand..the sound of her voice echoing from the walls. Even the ashes from our fire were still there. It was a little too much..too filled with emptiness and an eternal sadness..I looked down into the urn and there she was..the sum total of all that made me feel whole..grey ashes..ok..lets get it done. I flung her ashes out onto the sandy floor and as I did..something came to me and I said it out loud: TO SEE THE WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND, AND HEAVEN IN EVERY FLOWER.....TO HOLD IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND AND ETERNITY IN EVERY HOUR....
ROBERT E. FISHBACK January 31, 2013 at 08:16 PM
Blythe passed away peacefull in her sleep about one year after our last camping trip. Non Hodgkins B cell Lymphoma. Per her request,she was cremated and I took her ashes to our last camp. No one had been there since we were there...Her foot prints still in the sand and ashes from our fire....this is where we walked, this where we swam....I spread her ashes out on the sandy floor and this came to me and I said it out loud: TO SEE A WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND.....AND HEAVEN IN EVERY FLOWER....TO HOLD ETERNITY IN YOUR HAND...AND ETERNITY IN EVERY HOUR....
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 01, 2013 at 04:38 AM
As you can tell, I am old and worn out...Before I move on to other things and finish some of my stories. I have to tell you about Blythe....She passed away in peace in her sleep one year after our last camping trip. In honor of her wishes, I took her ashes to our cave,and as I looked into the urn...just grey ashes...no smile..no touch of her hand...none of her laughter....something was missing...As I scattered her ashes, I could see her running, laughing, swimming...talking on our veranda....her old 48 Pontiac which she adored and would not let even me drive. As I flung the ashes, something came to me and I said it out loud: TO SEE A WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND....HEAVEN IN A WILD FLOWER...TO HOLD IN YOUR HAND ETERNITY...CONTAINED IN JUST ONE HOUR....The cave was so protected from human invasion and the elements..Her footprints still there, as well as the ashes of our last campfire. I must come here often..to commune...maybe try to find the bottom of the lake we swam in....Maybe its a dream..she will come running to me from Heavens Rim...and say....Thank You for such a lovely time..
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 01, 2013 at 05:14 AM
going back to 53....
ROBERT E. FISHBACK February 01, 2013 at 05:17 AM
ed .....dupes on above pls delete two thx b


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