Fulcrum--1951 The Rest of the Story

This story has four parts that I want to share with you.  It was a story that changed all our families lives not only at the time that it happened, but for the rest of our lives.

We often are so overcome with the tragedy and sorrow of an event that we cannot see anything good.  So it was with the story of Ruthie in 1951 and for the next twelve years.  But her story didn't end in a hospital in Casper, Wyoming in an iron lung, or in a halo apparatus at the Shriner's Hospital in Salt Lake City.

At the Shriner's Hospital she was a special patient.  When she was eleven they arranged for her to see fireworks for the first time in her life.  Through all her pain and suffering she never complained, but was a ray of sunshine to those around her.

When she finally was able to come home, my parents sold the ranch and moved to Cody so that she could go to school as her health was too fragile for living in the mountains.  She attend high school, sometimes when plagued with recurrent pneumonia by remote connection, and home tutoring from her teachers.
French studies were her favorite classes.  She went on to attend college in Minnesota with a dream to be a French translator for the United Nations.  She was an accomplished pianist.

Then, in 1968 she accepted a job as an angel in the heavenly choir, singing praises to her Heavenly Father.

Part one of this series was published May 21st.

Fulcrum 1951--Part 3

This story has four parts that I want to share with you.  It was a story that changed all our families lives not only at the time that it happened, but for the rest of our lives.

 Life was never really the same after that fall.  Ruthie was in the Casper hospital for a year and a half spending much time in an iron lung.  Her left leg and right arm were paralyzed, and because of her lung problems, she couldn't sit up without a back brace. 

When Ruthie finally came home she needed extensive therapy.  In those days there was no way to have a physical therapist come to our ranch so in the nature of the frontier spirit my mother learned the exercises.  Mom performed the physical therapy that Sister Kenny had developed for polio patients.  

After being home for a few months, my little sister was accepted into the Shiners Hospital in Salt Lake City where she spent most of the next six years, undergoing several spinal surgeries, and extensive therapy.  Mom would visit several times a year while Daddy took care of the rest of us kids.  And during the summer we would visit Grandma in Tooele and she was able to spend time with Ruthie

About the time she left for Salt Lake City, I had left home to go to high school in Cody, having to work as a nanny, as there was no way I could make the daily 50 mile trip is the snowy Wyoming winter weather.

When Ruthie finally came home, she had to continue water therapy.  Daddy had a small stock water tank made that would fit in our dining room.  We would fill it with warm water heated on our coal stove and carried in buckets, and Mom would exercise her atrophied muscles, then after her therapy we would take the buckets again and empty it.  Day after day,  every day, this continued, and slowly Ruthie improved until with the aid of a brace on her back and left leg she could walk.

That fall of 1951 will always bring back memories of the terror of that horrible disease, the pain and suffering that took away much of the innocence of youth and the need to face adult responsibilities, ending the carefree days of childhood.  

The rest of the story will be published June 11th.  (For Part one see May 21)

Fulcrum 1952--Part 2

This story has four parts that I want to share with you.  It was a story that changed all our families lives not only at the time that it happened, but for the rest of our lives.

Then one after another my two brothers and other sister became sick and day by day all were hospitalized with that terrible disease. My folks trying to protect me, kept me isolated from others.  Alone at home, I had no way of knowing what was happening.  At only ten and a half years old, I was responsible but scared of this strange scourge surrounding me.  My dad came home each night and told me how my siblings were doing.  Then one day a week later he promised that my older brothers and sister were slowly recovering, but would be in the hospital for a couple more weeks.  However, little Ruthie was still in critical condition and had been transferred by ambulance to Casper, a little over 200 miles away.  It was the closest hospital that had an iron lung that she needed in order to breathe.  Mom would stay with her until her conditioned stabilized.

So Daddy and I continued the business of life.  We ate, did our chores and listened to the radio.  Every afternoon he would go to town to check on his other children, and call Mom from the hospital to get an update on Ruthie.  After what seemed like forever,  the kids in the Cody hospital were released, and by that time Ruthie was stable so Mom also came home, but made the long trek to Casper to visit Ruthie every few weeks.

Part Three will be published Tuesday June 3rd.  (Part One was published May 28th.)

Fulcrum 1951-Part One

This story has four parts that I want to share with you.  It was a story that changed all our families lives not only at the time that it happened, but for the rest of our lives.

The summer of 1951 was so much fun.  All five of us kids--me the oldest at 10, clear down to Ruthie just about two years old--had played at Grandma's house in Tooele, Utah.  We would chase the chickens, run through the orchard sneaking a fresh peach or apricot, and listen for the train that lumbered down the tracks just a quarter of a mile from the house.  Sometimes we would put a penny on the rails and then after the train had clattered away till we could no longer hear it, would hurry down to the rails and try to find the flattened treasure.

But September brought the end of play and time for school, so just before Labor Day we packed up our old Buick and took the long trip back to our ranch in the mountains near Yellowstone Park.  The few days at home before school started were filled with getting school clothes ready, and maybe a trip into Cody--twenty five miles east through the treacherous Shoshone River Canyon.  Since the school supplied all the essential paper and pencils, we would beg for a box of Crayolas, the kind that had 48 different colors.  The box of eight that the school furnished just wasn't that exciting. Then the day after Labor Day, with little Ruthie waving bye, we took our lunch pails and hurried down the mountain to catch the school bus (Actually Willard Rhoads' nice large station wagon--his ranch was at the eastern end of the bus route), and soon we were immersed in a new year of learning.

Little did we know that in just two weeks we would face a turning point in all our lives.  We would change from being carefree children to ones who faced pain and heartache.  Our Mom and Dad, once so carefree suddenly turned sad and look years older.  That was the year of the Cody polio epidemic.  The middle of September, Ruthie started getting sick--just the flu, my Mom thought.  But her conditions worsened, and finally my folks made the 25 mile trip through the rugged canyon to the hospital in Cody where she was diagnosed with polio.  Her health rapidly deteriorated and the doctors gave my folks little hope that this small child would survive the night.  Mom sat watch at her bedside holding her hand and looking for the telltale blue in her tiny fingernail, and praying for mercy for her young sweet daughter.  And somehow Ruthie made it through those dark hours, hanging on to life by a thread.  

Part Two will be published next Tuesday, May 28th.

Congratulations

Saturday was another milestone for this sweet little girl--my youngest daughter.  She always loved to go to school and learn and was an outstanding student, member of the high school band, and jazz ensemble.  She plays a mean saxophone.  She graduated from Phoenix College a few years back with a degree in legal science.  At the time she had one small child, and was working full time.  A couple of years ago, she went back to college and Saturday graduated with honors from Yavapai College with a degree in computer science--doing this while working full time, newly remarried, now with three step-children and guardian of three nieces and nephews, for a family with children between four and 21.

Getting her diploma from the college president

Congratulations!

Paths of Life

This week was the birthdays of three of my brothers and sisters.  It amazes me the path that we have traveled.  Born in the rugged Rocky Mountains of northern Wyoming, raised on a ranch--just a bunch of mountain kids.  Now my youngest brother is an executive for a company near Seattle, my Oregon sister, now retired, was an educator then small business owner, and my youngest sister is a nurse in Denver.  What different paths we have taken--from such humble beginnings to paths of excellence!  Happy birthday to you.  I love you all.

Angels Among Us

A year ago today, early Christmas Eve morning, a driver fell asleep at the wheel and his truck left the freeway at a high speed.  The vehicle flipped several times before coming to rest on its wheels hidden from sight; the driver severely injured, unconscious for several hours in those cold early hours.  Then from out of nowhere a man came to the wreck, took the driver's cell phone and called the emergency contact number telling the injured young man's mom who lived in another city where the accident was located.  Then he disappeared.  His mom called 911 and me and my grandson was air evacuated to a trauma center where he was in ICU and underwent many surgeries for facial reconstruction.  He lived due to the intervention of that unknown person--that angel sent from God.

Playing House

This is a child's chair that my grandpa made over 70 years ago.  It sits in my living room now and often my granddaughter serves a favorite doll tea and cookies in this chair.  One of the earlies gifts my mom made for me was a set of doll furniture much like this chair but in doll size proportion.  That gene must run in the family as I love to make doll furniture also, however my is even in a smaller scale (One inch=one foot)  The only problem is mine won't last 70 years through the rough and tumble play of children. 

Granddaughter fixing up dollhouse in my office

I made a fairly sturdy dollhouse and furnishings so that little ones could play house.  My grands love to play clean house and rearrange furniture and with a bit of Elmer's glue it continues to provide hours of entertainment.

9/11 Tribute

I'm sure each one of us remembers where we were on 9/11/2001.  I was on my way to work when I heard the first reports on the car radio.  As soon as I got to the office, I turned the TV on and watch with unbelief the unfolding story.  What a tragic day for so many families, what a terrible day for America.

Then I remember how we all came together in unity to do what we could to help.  It was a time that we forgot our differences and worked as one.

At the time my Prescott grandson was 9 years old.  He was chosen to be part of a childrens' ensemble along with the Tim Parker quartet from Prescott, AZ that record a tribute that helped raise money for families of the New York firemen who gave their lives. Listen to the new verses written by Tim.  A good way to reflect on this day--Enjoy
                                                          

Friday

My favorite things this week are from great to amazing--granted not the usual things that happen in everyday life--put certainly things to make me happy.

Wonderful book that I received from Conny at The Life of an Ordinary Hausfrau, an enchanting Amish love story.

Praise God that my grandson survived this crash

Joy that little granddaughter showed over PJ's--Gramma scored.

Grandson is now sleeping in his own bed.  He was so ready to come home from the hospital.  His jaw is wired shut, so for the next 6-8 weeks he will be eating through a straw.

1. Lately, I have been feeling  a little__overwhelmed.  I have another surgery today, my grandson just got out of the hospital.

2. I am usually a ­­­­__easy going person, not one to worry

3. Tired with a sense of accomplishment_is always the best feeling at the end of the day

4. Brush my teeth, then get dressed_is the first thing I do in the morning

Christmas Miracles

Grandson, his dog-Biscuit, girlfriend

You ask how was my Christmas this year?  Well, it was filled with miracles that I will remember forever, but not your usual, typical memories.
Early Christmas Eve morning, I received a call that my grandson had been hurt in a traffic accident.  I rushed to the scene--a country street in northwest Phoenix.  Although he doesn't remember, probably on his way home from visiting friends he fell asleep at the wheel.  His truck ran off the freeway, was airborne, flipped, and landed on it's nose on the other side of an 8 foot barrier fence just  below the crest of an embankment.  He was unconscious for several hours, his truck not visible from the freeway, not particularly noticeable from the country street.  Just after dawn, a man walked up to my grandson, who was just regaining consciousness and trying to call his mom. This stranger (an angel, I am convinced) spoke to his mom, called 911, and then disappeared.  

They air vac'd him to a trauma center, and found that his lower jaw was broken, and all the other bones in his face were pulverized, all except five molars gone.  e underwent surgery Christmas eve and a plate was put in his chin, and then Monday another five hour surgery to repair the rest of his face with plates.  He was taken off the ventilator yesterday, and moved out of ICU.


The doctor said he had no concussion, not another broken bone, and only a bruise on his shoulder from the seat belt.  He also said it was a miracle that he was not paralyzed at the least, or alive at all.


So, I had a Christmas of miracles--my grandson survived a potentially fatal accident, he was certainly helped by an angel, and will be home in a few days.

******

1. Share something you loved about your Christmas Day.

The above story about by grandson.

2. You get to put five items in a time capsule to be opened in 100 years, what items would you choose and why?

A picture of my family, my Bible, a copy of the book I am writing,  my recipe box, letters from my Mom

3. What do you like on a cracker?

Cheese 

4. Do you make resolutions at the start of a new year? How'd that work out for you this past year?

Yes, last years some lasted a month, a few a bit longer, and one I accomplished.

5. What's a song or song lyric you'll associate with 2011?

Can't think of one.

6. How will you ring in the new year?

At home with my daughter and grandson.

7. What is something you look forward to in 2012?

Completing my book, getting my studio in order

8. Insert your own random thought here.

I am so thankful that the hand of God was on my grandson.  I may have missed a couple of nights sleep being with him in ICU, but watching him, thinking of all the goofy things he does, and all his good points  make me so happy.

Born of Kings

My Prescott daughter has always expressed and interest in her heritage.  So this year, I made this memory book.  Using BoBunny Timepiece album, I created a book that traces her ancestory on my dad's side of the family back 70 generations.

Daddy was of Scottish/Irish descent.  The Scottish clans kept very detailed records of their generations, so this made the search for ancestors easier to follow.

His mother was a direct descendant of the Stewart of Scotland, from which the Kings of England are also descended.  My daughter's 22nd generation great grandfather was Robert II, King of Scotland Stewart--the first Stewart king.

I found this copy of the registry of the marriage of Daddy's mom and dad, the starting place on my quest through the years.

These are photos of me, my dad, his mother and a  distant relative--Leutwinus Bishop Of Treves (660 - 772)