Stickied to top for awhile …
I just heard from Neo that she expects the book of the best of Gerard’s poetry will be available probably next week – God willin’ and the crik don’t rise. That’s all the info I have right now – I’ll post the link as soon as it becomes available.
annual observance – 50 (what???) years ago this year
I believe I mentioned somewhere along the way that some of my early aptitude tests indicated I’d fit being a navigator on a Great Lakes freighter. One of my grand-uncles was a lakes ship captain and an uncle was in the US Navy in WWII so perhaps there was a bit of sailor in me. If so, that has long since dissipated.
Still, my roots are in Michigan and there’s no avoiding the lakes’ influence on me. Nor do I wish to avoid it.
Gordon Lightfoot died in 2023. The bells at the Old Mariners Church rang 30 times when he died.
The 1842 Anglican church sits off Jefferson Ave at the mouth of the tunnel (head of Randolph St) about 500ft or so from the river. The annual ring for the Fitz ended in 2006 but the church will once again honor the tragedy this year: “The bell will ring once more. The city of Detroit and beyond will be invited to participate in this worship service, pausing in their work day, to remember and reflect on the day of the 50th anniversary.“
I had just mentioned I had met Lenny Wilkins at Bob’s wedding – not knowing who he was.
I just read Mr Wilkins passed away today.
originally posted by Jean – Feb 20, 2010
perhaps suggested as a result of “Bob B.”
I genuflect
and wobble.
Incense stings my
throat.
Holy water splats
on her coffin.
Old voices, chanting,
float around me.
Dark, polished, hard wood
pews and walls.
Air is orange glow from
candles by the altar.
October cold, hiding
in the shade of the canopy
at the church cemetery, watching
Dad at the edge
of her grave.
Shoulders slumped. Looking down.
The last to leave her.
Three years later, December snow.
I hold his triangle-folded flag and
am the last to leave him
at the same cemetery.
Up in northern New Mexico’s coal country in 1905, the St. Louis, Rocky Mountain, and Pacific Company was formed to consolidate many of the coal mines in the area. The company also established or took over several small towns in the area. At its peak, the company controlled close to 1000 square miles of northern NM with a near monopoly on the regional coal sales.
In 1907, the company established the St. Louis, Rocky Mountain, and Pacific Railway Company to guarantee transportation for coal and coke traffic. The 120 miles of the line connected to three major railroads; the Santa Fe being the closest to the mining activities.
At that time, the swastika was a symbol of good luck; the railroad was also known as the Swastika Line (many of the older buildings in Raton* have swastikas embedded into the structures).
The railroad was sold to the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe in 1913 who ran it as a subsidiary and changed the name to the Rocky Mountain and Santa Fe Railway Company in 1915.
Following my not-unusual habit of not only not taking the road less travelled but following something more akin to two parallel footpaths – south of Raton, north of Maxwell, west of I-25, south of the Canadian River – I came upon this cluster of ruins, the most prominent of which was this old passenger car. Up under the roof – somewhat protected from the sun, wind, and rain – were the barely discernible letters “cific Railw“.
Judging by the letter spacing, it appears this car was lettered for the 1907 line. Other evidence suggested it may have been used for a bunkhouse at someone’s homestead; it is/was not near the assumed railroad. Putting scraps of information together, it appears this car may have been scrapped by the railroad, then bought and moved, when the railroad was sold to the Santa Fe in 1913 as all-wooden cars were being replaced with steel by 1910.
By its style, this car was probably built in the late 1880s to 1890s.
*Raton was a major Santa Fe railroad hub at one time; it supported helper engines for going over Raton Pass on the Colorado, New Mexico border, immediately to the north. Remnants of the roundhouse and other facilities are still evident. When I was there, the BNSF still maintained a small yard and Amtrak passed through although this was no longer a main line.
I don’t often mention real names here of people I’ve known, but I’ll make an exception here.
Bob was a good friend of mine. Met him late in life through a friend of a friend. The first friend has disappeared into the dim past but Bob and I hit it off. For that matter, I hit it off with his wife-to-be; they were just starting to date when I met them.
This pretty much describes Bob.
We were at the edge of a cliff overlooking a river in the Cascades outside Seattle when some guy came up in a truck and for some reason – beer? – laughed at us and threatened to drive us off the cliff. Bob said something or another and the guy appeared mad enough that it seemed he was heading our way to do just that. I don’t go into the wilds unarmed … so that stopped that.
Bob was born rich in Philadelphia. He told me he blew his inheritance of some $3M dollars on a cute girl in Steamboat Springs while in his early 20s. Told me once he didn’t care about the money; the times he had with whoever was worth every penny. I gather she disappeared when the money did.
Now Bob could tell a good story so I doubted at first but as we got to know each other better, I believe his tale was true.
Bob had a sister in Australia who was a botanist. I forget the details but by some manner, she had a particular rose formally named after her. I have the details somewhere around here but probably buried deep in a box I’ve not looked through in a while.
Bob and Diane got married in 1990. The day of their wedding happened to be the day of the basketball playoffs between Chicago and Detroit. Game 7, series tied. The wedding was put off until the game was over. Detroit won.
Bob liked to do things in style. Bob rented the Steamship Virginia V for the wedding reception. Bob never acted or lived like he had money … but one could tell he was used to being around it. I never did ask him how he paid for all this; that just isn’t done.
During the festivities, Bob introduced me to some of his friends:
“DT“, he says, “let me introduce you to Lenny Wilkins“
“Hello. Pleased to meet you“, DT says with a blank look on his face.
I don’t follow basketball; I was probably the only person around who had no idea who Lenny Wilkins was.
I had bought a house south of Seattle; closer to Puyallup. When it was time to leave the area, Bob wanted to buy it. I cut them a deal but Bob was “negotiating”. Diane finally told him to shut up; she wanted the house and was afraid I’d just put it on the open market. I made money on the deal, he bought it for much less than market value. Win, win.
Bob and Diane came down from Seattle to where the soon-to-be Mrs DT and I got married; the last of three times. The party wedding. Well, the festivities lasted late, Bob got a bit toasty, so I drove him and Diane to their hotel. The clerk took his credit card, charged the room, then refused to give him the key. With no other solution at that time of night, B&D spent the night with us (and a few others). About 8 guests in our little 600 sq ft apartment on our (last of three) wedding night. The hotel later denied it ever happened.
Bob truly tried to help people. Being familiar with Washington’s welfare system, he tried to develop a company to aid in easing applicants through the bizarre procedures of the state. The state didn’t like the competition and shut him down. Maybe that was the beginning of the end.
Bob became an alcoholic. He knew he was an alcoholic, he told me he didn’t care, he’d keep on drinking. He developed some sort of blood condition that caused him to have one of his lower legs removed. The amputation didn’t heal; they kept cutting until they had to amputate above the knee. It still didn’t heal.
I had moved far away so I wasn’t able to keep up with his (lack of) progress. I last visited him and his wife Diane in 2013 or 2014 when I ended up having a medical problem myself and had to stay a day or two in a Seattle hospital.
I didn’t know it was the last time.
Diane called me in August 2015 to tell me Bob had passed; his condition exceeded what could be cured. Did alcohol play a part? Perhaps, but the condition itself was not alcohol related.
I thought about driving up to visit his grave – it’s been 10 years now – but what’s the point? His marker is not a headstone but a small slab of marble set in the ground. I’d go up, drink a beer over his grave, turn around and come home. I can toast a friendship gone by here as well as there. I haven’t seen Diane since.
So why this ramble? Bob would have been 75 today.
How in the world did it happen that my friends became my grandparents’ age?
Isn’t it interesting that the only parts of the government that are shut down are those programs related to the citizens of the country. As far as I can tell, the government itself is operating as always.
Thune “Willing To Give Democrats All The Things They Want” As Friday Shutdown Vote Looms
Why even bother with two parties?
%%^^&& all of those (*(&%^^&%^*.
Elk stand up to 5ft tall (at the shoulder) and can weigh over 1,000 lbs. A large deer may weigh 400 lbs and stand just over 3 ft tall. Elk can run up to 45mph in short bursts; mulies run at a similar speed. Whitetails can reach about 35mph. An elk can (and sometimes will) kill you.
Hunting elk for non-residents in Idaho costs something in the neighborhood of $1100: the license, the tag, other expenses. For residents, the cost is something around $100 not including transportation. Non-resident hunting fees cover ½ DNR’s budget; almost $30M/yr. That’s a lot of hunters coming from out of state.
Lots of people come here to hunt critters: bighorn sheep, moose, bear, pronghorn, lions, wolves, and of course elk (along with other smaller critters). It’s not hard for a non-resident (or residents either for that matter) to spend $10k or more for guided hunts. Elk hunting is particularly popular; so popular, they hold a lottery for permits to hold the number of hunters down.
However, for some of us, the problem isn’t hunting elk, it’s chasing them out of the garden.
Some of y’all think deer* can cause damage to a garden … elk can render a garden into non-existence.
This photo was taken in my (former) back yard.
*All elk are deer, deer are not always elk
A black bear sow and her three cubs were euthanized by Fish and Game officials in Teton County after becoming food-conditioned and habituated to human presence.
Despite efforts to manage the situation, the bears’ behavior posed a significant public safety risk, leading to the decision to euthanize them.
Relocating bears that have become extremely habituated and food-conditioned is not viable, as research indicates they can quickly return.