Times Square Reunion
At this time in the service I was stationed in Philadelphia. Lois was with me and had a job there. We had friends in New York City who asked if we’d come and join them for New Year’s Eve. This was in the middle of the war. Arrangements were made; we took our first plane ride from Philadelphia to New York meeting our friends Fred and Mary there. Of significance was the monumental downtown crowd to celebrate New Year’s Eve in Times Square where there were possibly a million people congregated. Crowds filled the streets.
We were waiting for the ball to drop, to herald the New Year in, hoping for the best, when a sailor reached up and put his hands around Lois’ eyes. I immediately turned and said “Who is this bird?” I saw a friendly smile and we were totally amazed to see someone we knew! It was a sailor and his buddy whom we had been high school friends with. To say the least, this was an eye popper! We were so amazed that we ran into someone we knew in the middle of a million people swarming in that small area in that vast city. We clung to each other and when the crowd dispersed, we all went to Fred and Mary’s little apartment in New York City and talked the night away, celebrating our reunion. This was a grand eye popper! His identity? Dale Smiley, Rochester High School 1941.
Baby Conde
When I returned home, discharged from the military service, I had a baby boy whom I had never seen. Lois and I had been married four years and had earnestly wanted a child. Upon arrival in the United States I was advised that Lois, my parents, and my baby boy would meet me. This was an inspiration. Added to the dimensions of homecoming, he was the most wonderful welcome home gift,
We met at Joseph T. Adlebury Military Base, in Indiana, where we were to be discharged. My train came in and it was announced that I had visitors. I saw my dear wife, Lois, with a bundle in her arms. My mother, father and sisters and brother framed them. It was a total homecoming!
But who was in that tiny bundle shrouded in my wife’s arms? Right away he was uncovered as I rushed to them, taking Lois into my arms. We shed tears of joy and Lois said “Bob, here is your son.” I looked at this tiny baby boy with hopes and aspirations for his life - our son Conde! Parents and soldiers can appreciate how wonderful this little eye popper was.
Baby Colts
One of the most enjoyable pleasantries is watching babies of various denominations frolic and play, and certainly the human baby is no exception. However, today I want to tell you about some baby colts, horses, which we once had. I want to talk to a degree of their frolicking, and the enjoyment that they seemed to have.
Normally and regularly we’d have a few colts each year. We had a lot of big mares and stallions. That was part of the advantage – they could reproduce and give worthy animals to work on the farms. However, one of those years, and I know not when, when I was a little kid anyway, my mother was always pretty observant. She had exercised her camera once in a while, which was a truly fine one at the time, although pretty ancient at this point. She called my attention to a lot of little colts – nine in number. We had them in our stockade. When my dad and the hired hands took the mothers to the fields to work, they’d put the colts out in this big stockade, which is probably a quarter acre, maybe not quite, but a good sized, screened-in lot, so they couldn’t see too far. There they had nothing else but to learn to know each other and to play.
My mother, on a couple of occasions, I recall, when she wasn’t too terribly busy, she’d call my attention and we’d walk over there to see what the colts were doing. Thereby, it was a rather interesting show. We go to the circus to see all the exhibitionists and so on, to see what human beings do with the trapeze, and the high wire. There we went to see what the little colts would do. Most of these colts were no more than one to four months old. They were healthy, husky and exuberant. They were really trying to see what life was all about. They would run from one end of that corral or stockade at high speeds, put on their brakes as though it was a stock car race, and hurl and jump straight up in the air, and all the magnificent things that you’d never dream a horse could do so well. The fact that there were nine of them meant we really had a show. In my memory, this was many years ago, so I can’t be too correct, but I do recall that at times they’d seem to race each other, probably not, but they’d just run together! Two, three or four of them would come blazing down that corral or stockade! Although they were little colts, they were going pretty fast, as if they were seeing who could outrun each other. It was excitement there with their bodies and musculature rippling, their manes flying, so it was the show of the day, at least on our ranch, and I think, on other ranches. Sometimes farmers would come there just to see our colts.
I might also add some of the trivialities about it – adjoining this stockade were the lockup, or the stalls for the four stallions we had. They were big, registered Belgium horses, with vim, vitality and vigor. They were locked up in those wooden stalls because they were just too rambunctious to let out. They made mincemeat of fences, and everything else. The stalls adjoined the stockade. It was like when youth of today go to a concert and they have to have music. I think those colts had music too. Those four Belgium stallions would neigh, squeal and jump in their stalls. They were the mighty, strong, adults. They’d set the music for the colts escapades out in the lot. At least this is what I thought about it. They were noisy rascals at least. On one corner there was a place where they could get a drink. They’d zip to the corner, take about six swallows and away they’d go! They’d charge around there making around three rounds around the corral, then come back to the trough again. Coming to the trough was their recess. Many things occurred as you watched. Usually you had to watch through a big knothole. We had several of them, - so called knotholes. You’d put your eye to it and you could see. That was the best place because they didn’t like a lot of people watching them. If there was they wouldn’t do their antics nicely. My mother used to say that she thought those colts knew how to do quadrilles, jitterbugs and all because they danced and jumped up and down and around they’d go; very clever. They were so full of health. They were exuberant. Anyone who’s watched horses and colts has some idea of what I’m talking about.
I want to add one other phase. The mothers would come in and nurse at noon and then again in the evening. Then they’d be let out in a wood lot. We had a woods; a nice hardwood forest. They could actually run through the forest in part of the places. Then it opened up into a large, flat muck pasture field. This is where the cows and horses loafed at night. I don’t remember the acreage. I presume it was probably fifteen acres in the woodland and pasture, maybe a half and half. At any rate, they let them out and they enjoyed going out in the woods, scratching their backs on the limbs. They’d go down into the flat pasture. That was muck land, flat land, black land; that pasture had been there a long time. Little tussocks had formed in the pasture bottom – meaning little toadstools formed all over the place where, I understand what happened is the cattle had manured in one spot and it was too much, so the grass grew there abundantly and it seemed to magnify and grow up. Well this was repeated over fifty years so those tussocks got pretty big. They’d stand up maybe eighteen inches above the regular pasture and just thick as please everywhere. The little colts, in all their dramatics, would go up in the forest, and after they’d nursed again they’d swing down into the pasture, lickety-split, coming down the little bit of a grade and into the pasture full of tussocks. You had to be pretty cleaver to run through those tussocks without stumbling once in awhile. Occasionally a colt would go down. He’d stumble over those tussocks and he’d get ready to jump over one, then there were too many in his way and somehow or other he’d go down. Sometimes there’d be three or four in a row, and if one of them would go down the next one would jump over the colt, as well as he tussocks. Even from our kitchen window we had a good view of our pasture and all the antics that went on in that pasture. Not only with our colts, who probably put on the best show, but also calves and all the others – cows and so on. Trouble was it got dark too quick. We were tired and we didn’t have time to really enjoy watching, but a lot of fine shows went on in our pasture field every evening.
From among nine happy, little colts you could certainly find things to applaud. Just looking at them was incredible. Somewhere or other they were always a bit clever. Recently I saw a show on PBS. The host was studying wild horses and she too was telling about how clever the horses were.
Lightning
I was home on leave from the military visiting my father’s farm, with my wife. We’d rented a cottage near Leiters Ford, one of our favorite spots on the Tippecanoe and planned to stay there on the weekend.
A fierce thunderstorm descended on the Tippecanoe area that night. There was loads of thunder and lightning. It was rollicky! The storm was making Lois nervous, so I got out of bed to take a look outside. At the exact moment I opened the door, a blinding flash of lightning struck, lighting up the immediate area and down to the river! It’s said that even the fish in the rivers are alert to lightning activity. In that momentary bright light I saw at a nearby tree, a little coon. He was holding onto that tree for dear life! Just as startled as I, his eyes were as big as the moon!
Although it lasted no more than a nanosecond, that lightning was an “eye popper”! Mother Nature had gotten our full attention!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Feathered Friend "Eye Poppers"!
Duck Family
We’ve all had many experiences on the freeway. Mostly "Freeway Eye Poppers" are horrible accidents that occurred or almost occurred. This is slightly different. We were traveling near the town of Petaluma, on the freeway; it was quite a few years ago. Part of the present freeway was not complete. They were trying to change the lay of it so it would go right through a great swamp. There was water on both sides and they were building up the route so it could be a four-lane freeway.
The traffic was intense that morning, we were just one of many. Two cars ahead of us began applying their brakes, then we started to brake, the traffic started slowing in all four lanes. All we could see ahead was a duck coming up over the freeway with a row of baby ducks, while another duck followed the little ones. They were crossing the freeway and had literally stopped the traffic. As they came across that monstrous freeway of early-morning traffic, hundreds of cars stopped! They waddled across, babies trailing along, eight or ten of them with the father bringing up the rear. People got a real thrill out of that "Freeway Eye Popper!
Robin Attack
One day as a little boy I was riding my pony down the Burton Road, east of the Burton Church, when I came to the Burton Cemetery. Wild roses were grown over the gate, it was sequestered in behind some big pine trees, and vines had grown over most of the tombstones. On the top of the gate there was a robin having a fit. She was diving at her nest, which she had built on the cemetary gate. I was curious and thought “Gee, what’s going on”. I immediately tied my pony and ran over there. When I got there she veered away from me. She was trying to get a mouse out of her nest but it was to late. There were three bluish green eggs, but one was already broken open and the mouse had sucked the yolk out of it. It looked like another one might’ve been damaged too. The robin was trying desperately to attack that mouse. This was certainly an “eye popper”! I waited a little bit and when all had quieted down I got on my pony and went home.
Later my mom and I went back to see what had happened. We examined the nest. It was beautifully constructed. Mom thought it was one of the nicest nests she had ever seen. The mother robin was still hanging around, very disconcerted that her life had been disturbed.
We’ve all had many experiences on the freeway. Mostly "Freeway Eye Poppers" are horrible accidents that occurred or almost occurred. This is slightly different. We were traveling near the town of Petaluma, on the freeway; it was quite a few years ago. Part of the present freeway was not complete. They were trying to change the lay of it so it would go right through a great swamp. There was water on both sides and they were building up the route so it could be a four-lane freeway.
The traffic was intense that morning, we were just one of many. Two cars ahead of us began applying their brakes, then we started to brake, the traffic started slowing in all four lanes. All we could see ahead was a duck coming up over the freeway with a row of baby ducks, while another duck followed the little ones. They were crossing the freeway and had literally stopped the traffic. As they came across that monstrous freeway of early-morning traffic, hundreds of cars stopped! They waddled across, babies trailing along, eight or ten of them with the father bringing up the rear. People got a real thrill out of that "Freeway Eye Popper!
Robin Attack
One day as a little boy I was riding my pony down the Burton Road, east of the Burton Church, when I came to the Burton Cemetery. Wild roses were grown over the gate, it was sequestered in behind some big pine trees, and vines had grown over most of the tombstones. On the top of the gate there was a robin having a fit. She was diving at her nest, which she had built on the cemetary gate. I was curious and thought “Gee, what’s going on”. I immediately tied my pony and ran over there. When I got there she veered away from me. She was trying to get a mouse out of her nest but it was to late. There were three bluish green eggs, but one was already broken open and the mouse had sucked the yolk out of it. It looked like another one might’ve been damaged too. The robin was trying desperately to attack that mouse. This was certainly an “eye popper”! I waited a little bit and when all had quieted down I got on my pony and went home.
Later my mom and I went back to see what had happened. We examined the nest. It was beautifully constructed. Mom thought it was one of the nicest nests she had ever seen. The mother robin was still hanging around, very disconcerted that her life had been disturbed.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Eye Poppers
In Wupert's book Amazing Observations he shared places, things and experiences that he found amazing. In the first section he called those musings "Eye Poppers". This is the first of several of his "Eye Poppers".
An “eye popper” is something totally unexpected, revealing, amazing, startling, and perhaps a bit frightening at times. It’s the fact that it’s so totally unexpected and occurs so suddenly, it makes your eyes open wider than usual, and you remember it a long time. We’ve all had these experiences. You probably have your own eye poppers. I'd love to hear about them. It’s amazing what happens to us in our most private moments.
The Jaws
This eye popper occurred when I was in the service. This occured during the Battle of the Bulge in the far, mountainous area of Ardennes between Belgium and Germany. I was a medic. The battle was fierce, many were wounded. I was left behind to take care of the wounded. Then I was captured. There I remained in very critical circumstances for several days.
On a very cold night, January 2nd, the 82nd Airborne landed via parachute and advised us to come with them immediately. We grabbed what we could. They assembled a total of about three hundred troops that they were going to take out with them. They would provide military protection for a while, and we were then turned over to the Belgium underground, which would take us across German lines into Holland.
Several things happened on this route. It was a long distance to go. It was in the middle of the night. It was cold, slightly above zero. There were two or three inches of snow in this mountainous area. They kept us off the roads as much as possible and up on the ridges quite often. We traveled all night. During the day we were very cautious. Sometimes we cuddled up together for warmth, slept an hour or two, and then went on.
As the day finally passed we were again cautioned to be extremely quiet and make no sounds of any kind. The commander wrote these instructions on a notepad to maintain the silence. He also wrote that as soon as it got dark we were to go up a rather steep ridge. It was getting quite dark, we were climbing up the ridge several abreast. We received another note that we should be extremely cautious and begin crawling on our bellies, like worms. Can you imagine 1000 little worms crawling on their hands and knees up that mountain ridge? That was us. It was better than getting shot, because we had no ammunition. So we continued, and while I was on that climb, on my belly, I reached out with one hand to pull myself forward and there was another fellow passenger. It was a little black beetle with another beetle on his back. He was parallel to me and was looking for a way to get through this line of soldiers. I reached over and tapped the soldier next to me. I pointed at the beetles and he was astounded too. There were two inches of snow but nevertheless he was hustling along. We had, evidently, dislodged him with our crawling crew. He was seeking new protection. In my book this was a genuine "eye popper".
We finally got up on a high ridge. We were crossing a main military route of the German army who had advanced through that area, and were engaging our troops further inland. So we were crossing the supply lines. How do you safely do this with three hundred soldiers? The Belgium underground had several very knowledgeable people who had prepared the way for us, continued to prepare the way and guided us through.
At one point, we came over a high ridge and had to drop down into a ravine. We followed an icy mountain stream, which was running fast. As we came close we were told to stay very quiet, make no motion, and stay about ten feet apart. There were a few others who would advise us further. As we followed the ravine down, we would occasionally hear the rumble of trucks passing nearby. We didn’t cross when there was traffic. When there wasn’t any, we sent a few men through. We dropped down into a big wooden and metal culvert they had built under the highway. It was about five feet in diameter. The stream took up half the space on the bottom, and there were some bits of framework we could hold on to. We slipped through that culvert underneath the highway for about thirty five feet. At the end of the road there was a drop and we had to jump. A good sized pool of water had collected there and a few of the men misjudged and landed in the water. After you got onto dry land there was a screened area with bushes and trees. We were instructed to jump immediately into a large hole there which would take us down and out of sight in the forest.
There was a bit of moonlight at that point; just enough so I could see the light of the snow and the tip of some icicles staring at me. I was to jump in that hole not knowing what lay on the other side. It was a fearful moment for me. When I jumped in, it was a sight! There were ice “fangs” all the way around it. Icy water from the pool had dripped in, freezing into long icicle teeth all the way around. Some of them were two or three feet! The hole was large enough that I was able to jump in and miss the teeth. It looked like I was jumping into the devil’s jaws to be gobbled up! Those jaws were an “eye popper”!
It was only a small drop, about two or three feet, then we were back on dry land along the stream descending down, down, down. This was a major crossing and we had to be absolutely quiet. There could be no sound, no light, nothing. If you fell in the water someone would usually fish you out and set you on your way, freezing. I didn’t fall in the water, but my feet were ice cold. After a long moon, desperately hungry, we ended our escape in the arms of the British army.
An “eye popper” is something totally unexpected, revealing, amazing, startling, and perhaps a bit frightening at times. It’s the fact that it’s so totally unexpected and occurs so suddenly, it makes your eyes open wider than usual, and you remember it a long time. We’ve all had these experiences. You probably have your own eye poppers. I'd love to hear about them. It’s amazing what happens to us in our most private moments.
The Jaws
This eye popper occurred when I was in the service. This occured during the Battle of the Bulge in the far, mountainous area of Ardennes between Belgium and Germany. I was a medic. The battle was fierce, many were wounded. I was left behind to take care of the wounded. Then I was captured. There I remained in very critical circumstances for several days.
On a very cold night, January 2nd, the 82nd Airborne landed via parachute and advised us to come with them immediately. We grabbed what we could. They assembled a total of about three hundred troops that they were going to take out with them. They would provide military protection for a while, and we were then turned over to the Belgium underground, which would take us across German lines into Holland.
Several things happened on this route. It was a long distance to go. It was in the middle of the night. It was cold, slightly above zero. There were two or three inches of snow in this mountainous area. They kept us off the roads as much as possible and up on the ridges quite often. We traveled all night. During the day we were very cautious. Sometimes we cuddled up together for warmth, slept an hour or two, and then went on.
As the day finally passed we were again cautioned to be extremely quiet and make no sounds of any kind. The commander wrote these instructions on a notepad to maintain the silence. He also wrote that as soon as it got dark we were to go up a rather steep ridge. It was getting quite dark, we were climbing up the ridge several abreast. We received another note that we should be extremely cautious and begin crawling on our bellies, like worms. Can you imagine 1000 little worms crawling on their hands and knees up that mountain ridge? That was us. It was better than getting shot, because we had no ammunition. So we continued, and while I was on that climb, on my belly, I reached out with one hand to pull myself forward and there was another fellow passenger. It was a little black beetle with another beetle on his back. He was parallel to me and was looking for a way to get through this line of soldiers. I reached over and tapped the soldier next to me. I pointed at the beetles and he was astounded too. There were two inches of snow but nevertheless he was hustling along. We had, evidently, dislodged him with our crawling crew. He was seeking new protection. In my book this was a genuine "eye popper".
We finally got up on a high ridge. We were crossing a main military route of the German army who had advanced through that area, and were engaging our troops further inland. So we were crossing the supply lines. How do you safely do this with three hundred soldiers? The Belgium underground had several very knowledgeable people who had prepared the way for us, continued to prepare the way and guided us through.
At one point, we came over a high ridge and had to drop down into a ravine. We followed an icy mountain stream, which was running fast. As we came close we were told to stay very quiet, make no motion, and stay about ten feet apart. There were a few others who would advise us further. As we followed the ravine down, we would occasionally hear the rumble of trucks passing nearby. We didn’t cross when there was traffic. When there wasn’t any, we sent a few men through. We dropped down into a big wooden and metal culvert they had built under the highway. It was about five feet in diameter. The stream took up half the space on the bottom, and there were some bits of framework we could hold on to. We slipped through that culvert underneath the highway for about thirty five feet. At the end of the road there was a drop and we had to jump. A good sized pool of water had collected there and a few of the men misjudged and landed in the water. After you got onto dry land there was a screened area with bushes and trees. We were instructed to jump immediately into a large hole there which would take us down and out of sight in the forest.
There was a bit of moonlight at that point; just enough so I could see the light of the snow and the tip of some icicles staring at me. I was to jump in that hole not knowing what lay on the other side. It was a fearful moment for me. When I jumped in, it was a sight! There were ice “fangs” all the way around it. Icy water from the pool had dripped in, freezing into long icicle teeth all the way around. Some of them were two or three feet! The hole was large enough that I was able to jump in and miss the teeth. It looked like I was jumping into the devil’s jaws to be gobbled up! Those jaws were an “eye popper”!
It was only a small drop, about two or three feet, then we were back on dry land along the stream descending down, down, down. This was a major crossing and we had to be absolutely quiet. There could be no sound, no light, nothing. If you fell in the water someone would usually fish you out and set you on your way, freezing. I didn’t fall in the water, but my feet were ice cold. After a long moon, desperately hungry, we ended our escape in the arms of the British army.
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