A must read, and . . .

I write this to recommend a book to everyone, especially to my good friends who grew up in the South, as I did: “Robert E. Lee and Me, A Southerner’s Reckoning with the Myth of the Lost Cause” by Ty Seidule, professor emeritus of History at West Point and retired brigadier general whose stated goal in life was to be a true “Southern gentleman.”

I was drawn to it because of the “recommended reading” tag by The New York Times.  It’s a book everyone should read, especially those who grew up in the South. It’s eye-opening and, likely for some, life-changing.

Virtually all of my “growing up” time, my truly formative years, was spent in the South, the segregated South, with “Whites Only” and “Coloreds” signs in evidence on many doorways and water fountains. It was where, in elementary school in Norfolk, Va., where I did most of my growing up, we stood, once each year, outside around the flagpole with the U.S. and Virginia state flags fluttering, to commemorate Confederate Veterans Day. (We did not do the same for [U.S.] Veterans Day.) And, in 1958, the governor, to thwart mandated desegregation, closed schools in Virginia, so I sat out virtually all of that sophomore school year. Even when we eventually returned with just a few months of the school year remaining, we were disrupted most days, having to evacuate the building because of threats and smoke bombs being tossed into the hallways and cafeteria. All to preserve segregation (and the myth).

I’ve also touched on that time for the Virginian-Pilot, my home-town newspaper that I read and delivered as a youth in Norfolk.

The first was “Lessons from the Blue Room” (https://www.pilotonline.com/opinion/columns/article_d3c1ead3-6125-53d7-9d32-f5468a882fd4.html). The Blue Room was a small diner situated in the Black neighborhood directly across the street from my high school. It featured two big lures – great chili dogs and a pool table. I learned a lot at the Blue Room, about pool and about life.

Another was “In Search of Earl” (https://www.pilotonline.com/opinion/columns/article_990c7b6e-16ca-5285-9cf3-88c7acbe4e19.html) about a childhood friend during a short sojourn from the segregated South in 1950 California.

Seidule’s book has prompted me to think even more about my time in the “old South,” including my time in the U.S. Army in North Carolina at Ft. Bragg (named after an inept and despised, by his own, Confederate general). That will include an incident that likely would have resulted in great bodily harm or, perhaps even death, to me and a fellow soldier had it not been for that African-American G.I.’s common sense.

As many of you know, I’m in the process of writing a chronicle (book) for our grandchildren that Joyce and I are compiling about us and what we know about those who came before us. It will include stories about our time growing up in the “Old South.” (All Joyce’s kin are from the Carolinas.) I will post virtually all entries on my blog, “Going Over Seventy,” as each part is produced.

When I post new entries, I will also post an alert on Facebook; however, I do ask that you “sign up” for my blog, if truly interested, so you’ll be notified of new entries and make it easier to comment – which I strongly encourage. Everyone needs an editor, especially me! And as one of my former students, now dear, dear friend, said: Tables turned! My former students get to edit me instead of me editing them! That’s something that I relish, greatly!

Introduction: Why?

Below is our current planned introduction to the book we plan to write for our grandchildren. Once done, we'll have photos and illustrations to accompany each entry, but I'm still working on the photos (as well as trying to get them to work better in the blog -- any help on that would be appreciated). That said, for this entry, we likely would include a photo of Joyce's mom, Elizabeth, mentioned in last bullet item. I'm also searching for a photo -- I've only seen one, and think we still have it -- of my Mom's Mom. I may also include a photo of the calligraphy art mentioned near the end. Stay tuned.

I also appreciate any comments or suggestions, and particularly any "catches" regarding grammar, syntax, and "foggy" writing.

Cheers.

* * *

Introduction

This book is for you.

Grandpa Malcolm and Grandma Joyce wrote the words and included the photos and illustrations because we want you to know about us, and what we know about those who came before us.

There’s a lot we know, and we’ll share much. Regrettably, there’s a lot we don’t know. We have so many questions we wish we’d have asked our parents and grandparents, about them and those who preceded them. For example:

·       Joyce has no idea why she’s named Joyce instead of the original choice her parents had made: Leila Agnes, after her maternal grandmother! For me, my father wanted to name me either Keith or Valerie (I have no idea why), depending on gender, but Mom won that battle – perhaps because they were going through a contentious divorce – by naming me after a good family friend.

·       Why my paternal grandparents, Gerald and Alice (nee Oddie) Gibson, left Bolton, England, with their two children, Doreen and Bernard (my biological father), likely in the mid-1920s, to settle in Attleboro, Mass. And did they leave behind family? We’d like to know a bit about them, too.

·       When and why my maternal grandmother, who bore 10 children with my Grandpa Charlie, died. I don’t even recall meeting her, though I’m sure I did as an infant, or, even, her name. And what about her family?

·       Or details of Joyce’s Dad, Jim, growing up in Albemarle, N.C., and his first marriage before marrying Elizabeth Mayer, Joyce’s Mom. We know that Jim and Elizabeth met while he was staying at her mother’s boarding house in Columbia, S.C., but we have no idea what he was doing there. We presume he was working as a mechanic, but why there and not in North Carolina?

·       Or of the time Grandma Joyce’s mom spent in Washington, D.C., during World War II doing what we don’t really know what? It’s a bit surprising because the Elizabeth we knew was quiet and reserved, not the least bit adventurous. But we have a photo showing her with a group of people at what looks like a D.C. hotel bar obviously having a good time with friends and/or colleagues. Elizabeth!

And so much more!

So, some early advice. Ask questions before there’s no one there to answer them. Because we and those who came before us, in at least some small way, are who you are.

So, we’d like you to know a bit about us and those who came before us, especially our parents, Tommy and Marjorie Aurednick, and James and Elizabeth Lockamy. They were special people and, sadly, most or all were gone before your arrival. They would have loved you beyond measure, and you certainly would have loved them.

We wish we’d known more about them, and those who came before them. We have so many questions we’d like to ask, and we regret not asking before they passed from our presence.

And, too, something on the selfish side: We’d like you to remember us after we’re gone. We just think it would be nice because we’ve lived a life worth living, and we’ve worked hard to make it that way. Though fallible, as with everyone, we’ve done our best to live our lives with honor. So, our wish is that you, too, will make life the best you can make it, and not at the expense of others. Always, trying, at least, to do the right thing.

Finally, we’ve used these words that we wrote many years ago as a guide to all we do and did: “Good words, good spirits, good friends make for a good life.” It was fashioned, a bit, after other words that, too, have served as a guide, from the German poet Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749-1832):

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.” (We see those words every day because they are part of a piece of calligraphy art that hangs in our bedroom.)

This book is a wish that you’ll take all those words to heart by saying (and doing) good things, seeing and appreciating all that is around you, finding a way to smile and to bring smiles to others, and developing, nurturing and valuing friendship (and family) throughout your life.

Love, Grandpa Malcolm and Grandma Joyce

Notes: The narratives in this book switch from Grandpa Malcolm (particularly, because he’s done most of the writing) and Grandma Joyce to the pronouns “I” or “me” once it’s clear who it is that’s being referred to in the entry, the paragraph, or the sentence. And it’s Grandpa or Grandma because the first target audience is you, a grandchild, though we hope that you’ll pass this along to your children, and they to their children, and so on.

Blog is back again with Disney, Depression, a deadline and more!

For anyone still accessing this blog, I am going to begin posting again – sorta regularly. I know, I know, I’ve made this promise before, but this time the promise will be kept.

We have a big incentive!

Joyce and I are writing a book -- for a small audience: Our family.

There’s so much we want to share with them that they simply don’t know (or, perhaps, fully appreciate). And this effort is spurred, in part, because we’ve come to have so many questions we wish we’d asked our grandparents and parents. For example, Joyce has no idea why she’s named Joyce instead of the original choice her parents made: Leila Agnes, after her maternal grandmother! For me, my father wanted to name me either Keith or Valerie (not sure why), depending on gender, but my mom won that battle – perhaps because they were going through a contentious divorce – by naming me after a good family friend.

In Catalina, with (of course) a good martini! This was on our 48th wedding anniversary in December 2019. The past December for our 49th, we spent quietly sequestering at home -- but with martinis (of course). For our 50th, hoping we'll be post-pandemic and resuming travel to faraway places. 

And, for example, my Grandpa Charles Thatcher, my mom's dad, reportedly turned down a job offer as an illustrator/cartoonist from Walt Disney himself because he didn't want to move his family (a wife and 10 children) from Attleboro, Mass., across the country to California in the midst of The Great Depression. He had a secure and well-paying job during that unsettled time as the lead jewelry designer (at either Swank or Marathon), and Walt was a bit of an upstart!

Or that Joyce's dad, Jim Lockamy, a lifelong car mechanic and great gardener, once owned a gas station in Columbia, S.C., and moved to Florida with wife and son shortly before she was born because he didn't like the red clay that stuck to everything when he had to crawl under cars! And that he didn’t want me to marry Joyce because I would just get up and go somewhere, like Africa; he thought I’d love her and leave her. What he didn’t know at the time was that he was right about the get up and going, but not about the loving and leaving her. Always loving, and I wanted to take her with me every place I went. And I did, with 50 years of adventures in marriage this December! (That was the case even in Uganda. While executive editor of the national newspaper there, I was the only editor ever to visit all 10 up-country bureaus – many remote and difficult to get to on Uganda’s pothole-ridden roads, some paved, many not. She was with me on all those trips.)

This effort is for Jennifer and Ian, our two wonderful offspring, and especially our grandchildren: Jennifer's son, Adam, 22, and Ian and Andrea’s two boys, Sebastian, 4, and Alex, almost 3 – and their upcoming, yet-to-be named daughter due in April. (We love all the boys, but this will be the first grand-girl in both the Gibson and Garcia families! We’re already thinking of special ways to spoil her!) Oh, and for the grandkids’ (eventual) kids, too!

There is so much our children and grandchildren don't know about us: Joyce and me, our parents, and our grandparents. And we want them to know that they all are unique individuals with special talents and skills. And quirks. We plan on telling as many stories as we can recall, and we plan to include everything we know, warts and all!

I plan on posting most, likely all, of what we produce, including photos, right here. I want y’all to be our other set of eyes, our sounding board, our jury, our editors.

Stay tuned. Please!

P.S.: We have a deadline (something I’m used to, having spent a life in journalism): Christmas 2021.

P.P.S.: Anyone familiar with posting on blogger.com? Apparently, there have been a lot of changes, and I need help posting. 1. How to get photo and caption into the text, not above, and without the white space to each side. 2. How to make text white in post, but black when going back to try to edit. (Text in posted blog is mid-gray so I can read it when editing and in preview (posted) mode; let me know how it is to read in post, please. If OK, I found a solution.) 3. And/or a place where there might be an easy-to-understand tutorial. And, hey, remember I'm old. (Quickly approaching 78!) Easy-to-understand is the key. Cheers.

P.P.P.S: Or a better alternative to blogger.com, if there is one, but one where I could easily transfer all that's on this blog to the other. Thanks.

Reading? And a quick update....

OK, is anyone reading this blog? Likely not, for two reasons:

First, and most important, my inconsistent (an understatement) posting. Simply, I am not disciplined or inspired enough, and I'm distracted by many other activities that tug at my time and attention. Hey, retirement keeps us busy!

And, two, my incentive to post is a bit low (compared to other activities, including other writing projects detailed below) because I don't think anyone's watching.

If I'm wrong, please let me know. It will help inspire me. (And, yes, despite my earlier pledge -- no beer if no posting -- I am drinking [wonderfully good] beers. Great variety here in California.)

Now for the update:

We aren't doing "around the world" (as detailed in previous post). We decided that, given our ages, we didn't want to be living out of a suitcase for a month or more, almost always on the move. We wanted to do this "slow." So, we're doing Uganda in late June/early July. Then coming home. We are committed, if finances are agreeable, to "do" China in the fall. This will make both trips more enjoyable and a lot less hectic for two old folks. While we're both quite healthy and active, especially for our age group (I'll be 76 in June, just before heading to Uganda, and Joyce turns 70 in October), we don't move quite as fast as in the past.

As for everything else, including promises to write about folks, including David Sendler, an early major and important influence in my career choice, those will be fulfilled, eventually. I am working on two writing projects: a novel that may never see the light of day, but is wonderfully fun to write, and my non-fiction effort, "In Search of Earl," that will illuminate people who've played significant roles, good and bad, in my life and who have helped shaped, immeasurably, the person whom you know.

Stay tuned.

P.S.: Again, if you're reading this, please let me know. Comments, positive or negative, are encouraged and appreciated.

Beer, and going 'round the world

I need a beer, so I’m keeping my promise by posting.

OK, we’re planning to head back to Africa in mid-June (and I’ll give a lot more details in upcoming blogs, but I really do want that beer, and the “blog muse” just isn’t kicking in). As part of it, we’re circling the entire globe!

As to Uganda, my former driver, Kabagambe Swamadu, known simply as Kabs (pronounced like the Chicago baseball team [and, no, not the White Sox]) has invited us back because . . .

He was more than a driver. He kept me safe. And we became really close friends with him and his entire family, both in Kampala and upcountry.

He, not surprisingly, has become quite successful, working with what I believe is an agriculture NGO doing good deeds for his village and surrounding area. Plus, he’s planning to run for Parliament, and by all accounts has a good chance of winning.

He’s a first-rate human being.

We love him, and he loves us.

So, Kabs invited us to see what he’s doing in upcountry Uganda, and we couldn’t say no.

We’re excited because of that, and we'll see lots of other people who were important to us, but also because this trip will take us around the world.

After Kampala, I’m keeping 47-year-old promise to my lovely bride: Taking her Cape Town, South Africa.

Right after we decided to get married, good friend Bob Menaker asked if I’d like to go to Africa with him. “There’s a freighter leaving Booklyn for Cape Town, and we should be on it.” So, Joyce says “go,” knowing that I wanted to – go, as well as marry her. So, I went. Six months later, after touring southern and east Africa, and then spending time picking apples on a kibbutz on the Golan Heights in Israel, I came home and we married. Still are, gleefully!

And still doing Africa, and now “around the world.”

The flight from Cape Town, you see, routes us through Hong Kong on the way back to L.A. So, we said, why not spend some time seeing old friends in China – specifically Li Hong Hai in Shenzhen (just outside Hong Kong), Li Rong and family in Guangzhou, and Li Shuo in Beijing. The three “Li’s” were each selected by me to come to KU (and stay with us in our home) as part of the grant promoting journalistic relationships between the U.S. and east Asia. We obviously became close to them during their stays in Kansas (having coffee most mornings in your pajamas will do that), as well as visits we’ve made years ago to visit them in China.

So, ‘round the world it is with flights from L.A. to someplace in Europe or the Middle East for the plane to Kampala, then the flight to Cape Town, then that Cape Town-Hong Kong-L.A. jaunt. So, ‘round the world in is over 30 days or so. Cool.

Next: Either about reconnecting with David Sendler, former editor of TV Guide and my editor at my first full-time journalism gig, The STRAC Paraglide at Ft. Bragg, N.C., whom we had dinner with recently in Florida, or more about Kabs. Or whatever, depending on my thoughts and how much I need a good beer. Stay tuned.

Promise? I promise!

It’s been far too long, and I know I’ve made this promise (unkept) before. This time, I mean it: I will post at least one each week. If I don’t, I’ve promised myself that I won’t/can’t have a beer until I do post.  (And you know that will be strong motivation, though I’ll likely cheat a bit by drinking a good IPA in the process of posting.)

And, yes, much has happened since my last post some months after our return from East Africa and well before our 2017 move to California (which has proved to be a good one and, thankfully, you’ll be happy to note, we’re not in a fire zone).  Before imparting some exciting news (to be detailed in the next posting about an upcoming planned return to Uganda), I think we should answer this:

Why California, one of the worst states to retire to? And why Clovis, a relatively small town in the semi-arid San Joaquin Valley?

We had decided to move “west,” ultimately settling on California after checking out Nevada, Utah and Arizona, simply to be closer grandchildren, specifically that our son, Ian, and his lovely wife, Andrea, planned having some. (They have since complied, twice.)

We decided on the central valley because the beach was too expensive (and, turns out, too “fire prone”). Same for the mountains. We wanted to be near, not “in,” a big city. So, we checked out every smaller town around Sacramento, Fresno and Bakersfield, the central valley’s big three.

We looked at:

·         Housing prices (Fresno/Clovis is/was the only area where properties were at “below value”).

·         Universities for culture and sports (Fresno State won the College World Series 10 years ago, and you know we love college baseball).

·         Crime rates (Clovis's is among the lowest in the state).

·         Local schools (though we don’t have kids; our thinking was that if a community spends money on schools, its residents “care” about quality of life, and Clovis has what some say is the best school system in the state).

·         A nearby airport (Fresno Yosemite International modern and close, only eight minutes away).

·         A nice downtown (“Old Town” Clovis is quaint and accessible with a ton of activities, including a year-round farmer’s market, along with good restaurants and micro-breweries throughout the town).

·         Oh, and a Costco (and those who know us know that's important, and Clovis, we happily discovered, has one, and next door Fresno has two).

It's 4 o'clock, so "wine time" (IPA for me) in Clovis. Cheers!

In February 2017, we visited for three days, driving all over and talking to lots of folks. The town was clean and litter-free (there’s a tax to keep it that way) with tree-lined boulevards. People were nice.  Good restaurants. Nice library facilities with a new one on the way. An inviting, walk-able downtown with a year-round farmer’s market. Clovis is "Gateway to the Sierras," so snow is just 30 or so minutes away most months. All was just as we’d imagined. Even better. We were sold.

Back in Kansas, we checked out existing homes online and, once our house sold, which went quickly, we jumped in the car and headed to Clovis to find a house. All the ones we’d put on our list just the day before were gone by the time we got there. So, we  decided to build.

And we’re so happy we did.

All new with state-of-the-art everything, including solar power (which means no electric bill). It’s one-level (no stairs, which is nice for us “old folks”) with “California landscaping” (all drought-resistant plants) and no grass to cut! (First time in my married life that I haven’t owned a lawn mower). And we put in a swim/spa (rather than a high-maintenance pool). I swim; Joyce “spas.”

So, all is fine. We’re loving it here. And we see the kids and grandkids quite often. We do miss friends (but several have visited and others are planning to).  We also miss “weather”. The song is true: “It never rains in California.”

Ah, but there’s that swim-spa, so we do get wet just about every day. Happily.

Next: Back to Uganda . . . and beyond!

Heeee's REALLY back....but, oh, now, beer-less!

Out of Africa: Sorry for the long delay, but there are good reasons, which I'll detail here soon. I just can't be as candid as I'd like at the moment because of some lingering and delicate issues involving our time in Uganda.

As most of you know, we are back home in Kansas. I was true to my word in the last posting back in February. I truly did love my job. I told everyone: "I loved going to work every day."

But I also said, from day one, that I would stay only if I could be assured of two things:

1. I was confident that we could succeed in our mission to make the Monitor operation (national newspaper and two radio stations) truly independent.

And 2., we would do that through quality journalism employing only the highest standards.

Despite the many good folks in my newsroom who were dedicated to that, under the most trying of conditions, there were others who, sadly, were not. They were there, in my opinion, to further their own agendas, not the one desired by His Highness, the Aga Khan, and me. In late February, shortly after my meeting with the Aga Khan, it became clear that His Highness would not − or could not − do what I felt was necessary to achieve that. Given that and my exhausting schedule that had taken its toll, Joyce and I decided to come home.

More on that later, as well as what we've been doing, and what our plans are....and we have many.

Number One on the list: Enjoy retirement! And golf. (As I've lamented to many, this is the biggest indicator of how hard I'd been working: Uganda has perfect golf weather every day − 65 to 85 degrees − and I didn't get to play golf once in our 13 months in Uganda!)

Beer bust! I don't wish to trivialize health issues, but I got bad news from my doctor yesterday, and everyone who knows me knows that these are the two words I never wanted to hear: "No beer!" 

Since my bout with shingles (get the shot!), I have had digestive issues. Nexium worked for a bit, but then lost its effectiveness. So, yesterday, our good doctor said:

1. Let's do a scope down your throat (gag!, but that's not scheduled until mid-January) to see if there's something going on.

2. Double the dosage of Nexium.

And 3. (and he knows the weight of the two words that followed because he's been my doctor for 20 years, and we've had the "good beer versus bad beer" discussion): Eliminate carbonated beverages, so "no beer!"

Oh, well, there's wine during the week and martinis on Sundays. But I will miss that good IPA.

My sincere wish to all: Good spirits and good health.