photography – Page 59 – I'll Call It Like I See It

a man of letters (6) – love letters, that is

While Glenn was in combat training in the Midwest, Selma was busy getting settled into her new life in Waco at Baylor University. Since her mother didn’t have a car and wouldn’t even know how to drive one if she had it, Glenn’s parents volunteered to transport Selma and her suitcases to college for the fall semester, 1944. Selma was seventeen years old at the time.

Glenn’s daddy loaded Selma’s suitcases…

…while both mothers hovered

Louise (Selma’s mother) in the middle and Betha (Glenn’s mother)

Selma and a friend check out local sandwich shop in Waco

Glenn sent this Western Union telegram to his parents on November 15, 1944. He had planned to return to Texas for his 20th. birthday on October 06 (and his mother’s birthday two weeks later) – but didn’t make it home.

“Am sorry couldn’t come home but only got four days. Don’t write to old address after Friday. Will write later. Love, Glenn”

The two months of combat training concluded in November of that year, and The Crew shipped out to join the 8th. Air Corps in England. They made a brief detour for more maneuvers in Iceland before reaching their European destination near London. This was Glenn’s last letter before crossing the Pond. He wrote to Selma at the last minute, November 28, 1944.

“Dearest Darling,

As the snow lingeringly falls upon our unattractive barracks, I pause for a moment in my menial tasks to give my love to the only one in my life. There are times when you can’t help but be a little disgusted with me, because I am so unthinking and negligent.

I am lucky to have someone waiting for me who is forgiving and understanding. I do appreciate it. That is one thing I have to look forward to, your waiting for me when I get back.

Well, a little of what I’m doing. I’m expecting to leave as soon as the weather clears. I’ll probably go to the European theater of action. I’ll probably even get to see Ray. That’s just my idea. But my ideas are generally pretty good.

We were to fly a mission today, but it started snowing this morning and hasn’t quit. We have to fly that mission before we leave. Oh well, the sooner, the quicker. I’ve already shipped my clothes over and part of them home.

We were lucky enough to get a ship. Only 1/2 of the crews got ships.

Dan insists I go with him to the PX. PX – PT what’s the difference?

Be good, Darling.

I love you,

Glenn”

The month of December was a long one for Glenn and The Crew who were now on a temporary layover in Iceland waiting for their first assignments. Glenn wrote letters to Selma who was finishing her first semester at Baylor. This one is dated December 07, 1944.

“Dearest Darling,

You’ve probably been thinking nasty things about me again, but I have a legitimate excuse this time. You won’t chastise me, will you? You’re a pretty good kid. I guess that’s why I love you. I know it’s not because you’re so pretty and sweet. Imagine your being sweet.

Of course, I’m sorry. You wanted to know where I am. I’m in Iceland. Beautiful place. You’d love it, I’m sure. This is only temporary, however. Lucky me…You wouldn’t believe it, I’m sure, but I saw a good show today, Mrs. Parkington.

Montana and Mort are no longer with me. Maybe they’ll get here soon. I miss them.

I expect to be able to see Ray soon. I’d sure like to see the old fat boy. You know, it’s been a long time. Then, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.

I’m sorry about Christmas, but you know how it is. I told Mama to get you something. All my love goes with whatever it is. Mama was laboring under the assumption that you wanted a ring. Set her straight, will you.

Be a good kid and write often. More than usual.

I love you,

Glenn”

“fat boy” Ray (l.) and Glenn in Richards before war

Four days later, on December 11th. he wrote from England.

“Dearest Darling,

I am in England now. Enough said. Or that’s all I can say anyway. I think I like it here all right. The food’s o.k. I see a cinema every day. I hadn’t seen “Cobra Woman” until today. It wasn’t so good. I suppose you’ve seen it.

I’ve seen several fellows I knew at Oklahoma A & M, Laredo, & San Marcos. Glad to see the old boys, renew acquaintances & what not.

I haven’t seen much of England yet but really intend to when I get away from here. Too bad you are not here to see it with me. Some day we’ll be together again, just you and me. Can you think of anything more wonderful? Sorry – I can’t either.

As I said in one of my previous letters, I’m sorry I can’t be there for Xmas. This will probably reach you about Xmas so here’s wishing you a Merry Xmas and sending all my love.

Glenn”

Waiting, waiting, waiting for that first assignment…

Meanwhile, Selma made new friends at Baylor.

Selma (l.) and girlfriends outside dorm

Selma (2nd from left) on campus

The Richards 2nd. Lt. was a long, long way from home like too many other soldiers were in the holiday season during World War II. He wrote four more letters to Selma in December including one on the 28th., a few days before his first bombing mission which was on New Year’s Eve over Germany in a city called Kassel where a subcamp of the Dachau concentration camp was located.

We’ll save those for next time. Thanks for staying tuned.

***********************************

Congratulations to the Charleston City Council for their apology on “Juneteenth” this week for the city’s participation in the institution of slavery. According to AP reporter Tom Foreman, Jr. the Council approved a resolution that is a “denouncement of slavery, a promise of tolerance in the future and a proposal for an office of racial reconciliation.” This is a positive step toward a healing process which I hope all cities will embrace. Bravo. I couldn’t be more pleased.

The AP report quotes Councilman Gregorie: “It was wrong to enslave people, to treat them as chattel and sell their children and break up their families. Sound familiar? It’s happening today, folks.”

Yes, sadly. Too sadly. People of good will must continue to press for a plan to reunite the families who have been severely damaged by those who have no regard for the worth of a human life or real respect for the “family values” they have campaigned on for years.

As for the Secretary of Homeland Security Kirstjen Nielsen, I am trying to understand how you don’t know where infants and toddlers separated from their parents who are seeking asylum in our country are located. Seriously?

June 21, 2018

in conclusion (3) and oh yeah, about roseanne

The Alabama River was a picture of calm and serenity that stood in sharp contrast to our day filled with turbulence and uneasiness. The colorful cocktails, merriment of the partygoers on our riverboat cruise and the blaring upbeat music of the band on the boat lifted my spirits and those of my sister Leora who had been with me on what I called Pretty’s Civil Rights tour. Pretty missed her calling – she should have been a tour guide.

The boat ride was the perfect end to an intense three days of fun, sharing family stories of our mothers who had an unbreakable bond that was the original reason for our connection and, of course, our trip that none of us would ever forget.

Too much commotion to talk, but not too much to reflect on the journey, as the riverboat glided slowly through the water.

my sister Leora on our riverboat cruise in Montgomery, Alabama…

thinking her own thoughts

We squeezed in under the wire for the last tour of the day for the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church following our visit to The Legacy Museum. The church was rich in history but was usually identified by its connection to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who was its pastor from 1954 – 1960. Dr. King was recognized as one of the co-founders of the Civil Rights Movement during his tenure at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church. The meeting to launch the Montgomery Bus Boycott was held in the basement of the church on December 2, 1956.

What an incredible experience we all had with our tour guide Wanda – her joy in sharing the history of the church was infectious…her storytelling made the history come alive. She provided opportunities for our personal interactions within the sacred surroundings. Two moments from the church basement tour stood out to me as I settled into my thoughts on the riverboat ride late in the afternoon.

The original lectern Dr. King used in his meetings was still standing in the basement of the church. Wanda allowed each of our small group of six (another married couple from Kansas had joined us) to stand behind that lectern and repeat his words: “How long? Not long.” I put both my hands on the lectern as I repeated the short phrases, how long? not long. I felt a crack in the veil of shame for an entire race that I had worn since The Legacy Museum visit earlier that day. If Dr. King could say “not long,” then surely time was meaningless; redemption was still possible for all who repented. How long? Not long.

I wanted to add “too long.”

As the basement tour came to an end, Wanda asked us all to feel the Dexter Avenue love by forming a circle, holding hands and encouraging a volunteer from the group to lead us in prayer. That someone turned out to be our Carmen, Leora’s daughter and Willie’s granddaughter, who spontaneously led us in a very powerful spiritual moment of love and affirmation of goodness that moved me to tears. Carmen’s prayer was my second memory maker of the church basement tour.

I was still lost in the day when our cocktail waitress asked if we wanted to start a tab at the bar on the riverboat. Sure, I said, as the lady with the band began to sing along with her husband who was the lead singer and guitarist. Leora and I both knew all the words to Polk Salad Annie so we joined in with the rest of the riverboat guests – making a joyful noise with exuberance.

We reluctantly said farewell to the Alabama River when we docked two hours later and had only one minor mishap that occurred when we made it back to our car. No keys. Someone was supposed to be taking care of the keys Pretty dropped on our table while she and Carmen climbed to the upper deck. Luckily, the responsible person had knocked them under the table in her slightly inebriated state, and there they remained for Pretty to retrieve with minimal delays. Too much Polk Salad Annie.

As The Red Man was fond of saying, all good things must come to an end, and the next day Pretty drove us back to Louisiana where Leora’s son and niece met Leora and Carmen to take them home to Texas. Many tears were shed that afternoon…we vowed to do better about keeping in touch in person…texting wasn’t good enough. Life is too short, we said as we hugged and cried.

And to add one of Pretty’s favorite quotes, life is also too messy. We have been home for one week and yet another white celebrity exposes her prejudice toward people of color in the headlines this morning. I challenge her to go to Selma and Montgomery and Birmingham to witness a sinister part of our American history that continues to plague our culture today. I challenge every citizen to make that tour in Alabama and then believe with me in Dr.King’s hope for all people everywhere:

“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”

Thank you for making this journey with us.

May 29, 2018

both my girls got haircuts this week…have a look!

Spike pays no attention to the new “looks”

I think they’re fabulous!

yes, of course I’m cute…

but where are my cookies?

Mother’s Day at home with Pretty, the dogs and the pool. Life is good.

Stay tuned.

May 13, 2018

can you walk 4 miles in Pretty’s shoes?

Occasionally I luck into making a good decision – not often, mind you, just once in a blue moon…

the moon wasn’t blue, but it was a full moon

(the view from our little balcony – the moonlight bathed our room)

My apparently good decision was to take Pretty to the beach for a couple of days for our anniversary. The background story involves Pretty’s penchant for purchasing her own treasures not only for herself but also for her antique businesses which means there is nothing left for me to buy for major occasions such as our anniversary. Enter my idea for the beach trip to Tybee Island, thanks to the magic of online surfing. Yes, Pretty totally gave me credit for this splendid idea.

neither Pretty nor I had ever been to Tybee Island

(which is just across the Savannah River into Georgia)

you betcha!

As soon as we got to our room, after a minor aggravation at the front desk about who Pretty was and why wasn’t I the one rushing in to handle the check-in process since the reservation was in my name, Pretty took off for the beach to scope out her walking destinations while I made sure the tv was operating properly. She walked a mile the first afternoon we were there and came in raving about the Tybee beach.

We determined to jump out of our box for tv viewing on our trip, and I became hooked on the house channel when Pretty went out for a walk. Yes, believe it or not, I had never watched the house channel before and I became emotionally invested in the couples who had to make the tortuous choice between “loving” their newly renovated home or “listing” it to move to the most fabulous new home in the universe. I mostly wanted to love it because I definitely preferred Hillary the hot renovator over David the blah realtor. Sigh. Who’s surprised.

the weather was perfect, the island lovely

I spent a small amount of time poolside

the views were spectacular, the colors simply amazing

Fannie’s offered a wide variety on their menu

I’m not sure we would recommend the combination of

nachos and fried shrimp for dinner –

just because you love them both doesn’t mean they go great together

Alas, while I pondered the love it or list it issues, Pretty spent most of the next day walking on the beach and ended up walking 4 miles from our northern end of the island all the way to the southern tip and back. Now why would she do something so excessive. I have no clue.

She came limping home with a huge blister on the bottom of her foot. Uh, oh. Pretty was confined to quarters, and we watched our very first episode ever of Dancing with the Stars that night. We found the competition among the athletes as gut wrenching as my roller coaster of emotions in the love it or list it dilemmas. We were disappointed that the snow boarder was bumped instead of one of the basketball players who we felt should stick to hoops – no disrespect intended.

on the way home Pretty discovered an art gallery…

…and was excited to find a tiny treasure

next stop: Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah

the infamous resting place that became the cover for

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

the bird lady statue had been moved to a museum

but Pretty struck the proper pose

while I soaked in the views

Can you believe this luck? An estate sale!

The end to a truly perfect mini-vacation for Pretty was the adventure of following the Estate Sale Today signs to a secret location hidden in a Savannah suburb.

Utopia. Bliss. The words I would also use to describe the getaway to Tybee Island…I predict we, as General Macarthur famously declared, shall return.

Stay tuned.

May 2, 2018

BONUS pics from Francis Marion trip!

I was pleasantly surprised to find a very kind note from Dr. Lance Weldy this morning when I opened my email, and he sent more pictures he took after the panel presentation when we were signing copies of Southern Perspectives on the Queer Movement: Committed to Home that people purchased…sweet.