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Oma Sue's Blog

Hi – I’m Sue Reyzlik. I recently realized my life-long dream of building a writing hut in the backyard. The writing hut serves as a creative space and home office for Oma Publishing. This blog will be intermingled with family history, varied experiences and insights on being a Grandma (Oma), creating my special backyard space, as well as, my “retirement” career as a self-publisher of children’s stories. And perhaps a little bit on the 32 years I served as Executive Director for Keep Fremont Beautiful and the wonderful people who are sharing this adventure.

​Growing In The Garden

7/31/2019

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            I have always had a garden.  Nothing too elaborate – just a few tomato plants, cucumbers and an eggplant or two.  I have found some success with green beans, snap peas, okra, carrots and sage.  I have experimented with other plants and found that I can’t seem to grow asparagus, Brussel Sprouts or strawberries.   
           ​ A problem I have had for three years now is with the pepper plants. Each year I buy two Bell Pepper plants and each year they turn out to be some sort of jalapeno pepper plants.  I will not buy pepper plants next year – only seeds from here on out.
            Anyway… as my grandkids were born and matured enough to poke a hole into the dirt, they have joined me in the garden and helped me plant the crops.  The grandkids from out of town would visit throughout the growing season and would help Oma harvest the produce later in the season.  
            RaiLee on the other hand lives in town and stays with me for several days at a time.  She was just a toddler when she first accompanied me out into the garden, helping with the planting, watering and the harvesting.  She became fascinated with plants and of course bugs, bunnies and butterflies.  
            I saved a Facebook post from July 6, 2015 that describes our garden experience at that time.  Looking back, it’s cute – at least to me…

           Rai and I have been working on the garden for the past several weeks.  Together we planted the seeds and oooooo’ed and aaaaaaaa’ed over the little baby plants that emerged from the soil.   We’ve watched the plants grow bigger and I’ve explained that the flowers will become tomatoes, snap peas, cucumbers and beans. 
 
           Rai monitors her tomato plant and marvels at the small green fruit getting larger everyday and asks repeatedly when it will be red.  I’m having so much fun watching her coming to grips with the whole planting – nurturing – harvesting process… you can just see the wheels turning in that little head.  
           The other night she was letting Lucy out the door when she asked me “What is that going to be?”  I have no idea what she is talking about so she asks me again… “What is that going to be?”   This went on for awhile until I figured out, she was talking about the flowers in the hanging basket on the patio.  I had to explain that some flowers are just for show and don’t produce anything – they are just pretty and make us happy.  It made sense.  Now we are just waiting for that green tomato to ripen so we can eat him.  Grow Big Red!
            
            The following growing season Rai and I conducted a potato growing experiment.  We punched holes in a plastic bucket, filled it with garden soil and then planted some seed potatoes.  I explained how the seed potatoes would grow plants on the top and the potatoes would grow in the soil.  Rai enjoyed watching the plants grow in the bucket but not seeing the potatoes was disappointing and certainly not as interesting as the other plants producing something tangible right before your eyes…
            At long last, we decided the potato bucket growing experiment was done.  Sam and Mac joined in on the great reveal.  It wasn’t all that great but there were some potatoes harvested and we did get to enjoy mashed potatoes for supper.   Another gardening lesson learned…
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           The next year we constructed an outdoor kitchen area for creating delicious mud pies and we added a raised garden bed so she could grow her own produce. She has had some success!  One year, tomatoes did fantastic as did the accidental jalapeno peppers. Cucumbers excelled – leaving the garden bed and wrapping themselves around the surrounding bushes.  Some cucumbers grew hidden from view reaching lengths of 18 inches and as big around as my thigh… maybe that is an exaggeration… but not by much.   Basil did wonderful last year and of course the accidental jalapeño! 
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            The bunnies or perhaps the squirrels have created problems in the raised garden beds. Something mowed down the bean plants last year and they were planted in the highest raised bed.  Grandson Sam created a barrier to protect the newly planted beans this year.  It worked great!  ​​
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           ​At 7 years of age Rai is a big help in cleaning sweet corn and continues to help me plant and tend the gardens.  She helps with the watering and she alerts me to Japanese Beetles munching on the leaves.  She keeps an eye on the green tomatoes and tells me when they are nearing red – picking them in their prime.  She shares my frustration as we stare at those two jalapeno plants and wonder how the pepper plants could have been mis-labeled, three years in a row.  
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            She doesn’t like picking the pokey cucumbers but enjoys peeling them.  She is anxious for the carrots to grow bigger and can’t control the urge to see if they are large enough to harvest.  She leaves the tiny carrots near the bushes in hopes the rabbits will eat the offering and leave her snap peas alone.
            My garden is a hobby.  I enjoy planting things and watching them grow.  It’s wonderful when I am able to harvest something and include it in a meal.  I also enjoy sharing my hobby with my grandkids.  I learned so much hanging out with my Grandpa at the greenhouse and watching my parents garden at their acreage.  I hope that my grandkids gain something from spending time with me in the garden, I’ve already gained so much from time spent with them…
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The Cardinal Couple

7/24/2019

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​            When I retired from Keep Fremont Beautiful, one gift I received was a beautiful hanging basket filled with some sort of green trailing plant. I kept it alive over that first winter and brought it back outside the following summer. Amazingly I kept it alive over the second winter and brought it out once again and hung it in its place, in the breezeway, right in front of the kitchen window. 
            The breezeway isn’t exactly a breezeway. It’s more a combination breezeway that opens up into the patio.  Half breezeway – half patio. The plant did well by the kitchen window. The plant didn’t like direct sunlight but it got plenty of indirect light and thrived in that protected environment.  
​             It wasn’t long before the hanging basket caught the attention of a cute cardinal couple. They must have liked the protective aspect of the part breezeway, part patio construction of my house.
            The couple made several visits to the basket – whizzing in and out – checking on things in a flurry of feathers and red streaks back and forth. Pretty soon it was just the female who was whizzing in and out of the basket – the male would lazily stop by from time to time but the female was possessed.  
 ​            I told the kids that I had some crazy crack cardinals stashing their drugs in my hanging basket. I also told them that maybe they were building a nest.
​            It turned out to be a nest.  When the mama was out looking for building materials, I would step out and snap a picture of her progress. I marveled at the building skills of that little mother – she was working feverishly to get the nursery complete before her baby’s arrival.  
​            I was thrilled when the first egg was laid. I was a little put out with the crack cardinal mom for not sitting on her egg but later found out she wouldn’t start sitting on the eggs until she was done laying them.  So, she would come and go and I would continue to snap pictures in her absence. 
​            A couple of the eggs were significantly larger than the others – really larger than the others and I wondered how that could happen.  I mean seriously – how did a little cardinal lay such big eggs – that had to hurt. Maybe she was off sitting in the birdbath during those long absences from the nest – I know I had to sit in a tub after giving birth to Sara at 8 lbs. 10 ounces… but maybe birds were more resilient…  there is so much I don’t know.
​            Anyway - I posted the progress on my Facebook page and even shared my concerns about the babies when Mommy and Daddy were gone from home. What if a cat happened by or some other creature raided the nest – my concerns continued to grow. I thought maybe it was my fault that they were absent so often.  If I was making too much noise in the kitchen, I would see Mama bird bolt from the nest.   When we made eye contact and I held the gaze for a second too long, off she would fly.     
​             I thought it best to protect their privacy from the giant lurking beyond the window (me) and hung a little table runner cloth thingy to block the lower portion of their view.  I did keep a slight opening for me to peep on their progress.  It was a little better but Mama bird would still get spooked when we acted all human and made too much noise. 
​            One morning as I was standing at the sink, I noticed a large black/brown bird come perch on the hook of the basket.  The bird peered down into the nest and then noticed me and retreated. It was at that time, that I went out and snapped a picture of the nest and learned that there were five eggs and two were so much larger than the rest. I recall thinking that I was glad I had frightened the invading bird away – I saved the eggs.  
​            The Mama Cardinal calmed a smidgeon with the laying of the five eggs and determined it was time to take her place at the nest. It was nearly two weeks before the babies began to peck their way out of their shells. I would take a progress shot with my phone whenever I noticed the parents were out gathering food for the babies. It appeared to me that all the eggs had hatched. I was delighted.
​            Sadly, a baby disappeared. I began to suspect the bird I had seen lurking around earlier in the nesting and egg laying process. I hadn’t seen that bird again but that didn’t mean it hadn’t returned, after all, a bird had gone missing.  
​            I had another opportunity to take a photo when the parents were absent and I documented three open mouths.  So now numbers four and five were missing.  
​            The feeding frenzy continued for several days.  The parents were continually speeding off to find snacks for their hungry offspring, and just as quickly returned to the nest with pieces of “things” I couldn’t identify. The babies gobbled up the mystery meals and wanted more.
​            As I was making coffee one morning, I noticed that the babies were alone in the nest – their necks stretched upwards waiting for a magical meal to be dropped from above. I could only see two babies. I wasn’t sure how long the parents would be gone foraging for food, so I stepped out the back door and snapped a quick photo.  Imagine my surprise when I confirmed that only two birds remained in the nest.
 ​            The tally of missing birds had risen to three. The mystery of the vanishing babies was breaking my heart and baffling my brain. I searched around the patio and under the hanging basket – no baby bird remains. I looked closer at the plants in the hanging basket – I could not find any trace of the baby birds.  
​            I took some solace in the fact that the two remaining babies were thriving, moving around the nest, testing their wings. I knew I wouldn’t have many more chances to catch a picture of my garden guests, so one morning I stepped outside and extended my arm so the phone would get a close up shot of the birdies. I quickly moved the phone back to view the photo – it was a great shot but there were little specks of something moving hurriedly over the surface of the phone…  and on my hand… and on my arm… mites had invaded!! That was unpleasant!
​            I squished the mites wherever I saw them and even where I didn’t see them – it was a mite massacre and rightly so…  It still creeps me out thinking about it… I took a shower.
​            ​In the days that followed, Mommy and Daddy Cardinal were still feeding the twins but with less urgency. There was a lot of noisy chirping from the cardinal parents followed by what appeared to be shouts of defiant complaints from the toddler twins. It was time to leave the mite infested nest and the parents finally practiced some tough love – no more food until you jump.  Daddy Cardinal would zip in and out and shout JUMP, JUMP, JUMP. Mommy Cardinal would fly to the shelf and say “now dear” and then fly to the table and say “now dear” and then fly to the back of the chair and say “now dear”.  It took a lot of demanding, shouting, encouragement and pleading, but finally the first one left the nest and followed its parents to some nearby bushes.  
​            Once that baby was safely hidden from view, the parents returned to the nest and started the whole “leave the nest encouragement thing” again. I watched from inside the kitchen and was thrilled when the baby took that leap. The parents and I were less thrilled when the baby mistakenly landed on the fake screen window outside my back door. 
 ​            I didn’t know what to do. The baby certainly didn’t know what to do. Daddy Cardinal was in panic mode while Mommy Cardinal perched on the picnic table just inches from her baby and continued to chirp encouraging instructions. Baby appeared to be confused and fearful until it spotted something familiar. The baby made a second leap, taking refuge in the flamingo planter by the garage door. The Mommy and Daddy did not approve and kept coaxing the baby to come with them – the baby refused. I took pictures.  
​            I decided the cardinal family needed their privacy and climbed the steps to the back door. I paused for a moment and took a picture of the empty nest. It was not empty. There was what appeared to be a somewhat deteriorated egg and other debris.  That explained one of the missing birds.  
​            Eventually the Cardinal family left the patio area – the last we saw they were heading south into the neighbor’s yard. For a few days we would see the Daddy Cardinal whiz by but we haven’t seen them for a few weeks now.  
​            Both Rai and I miss the activity of the bird family. The crazed Mama bird who was so intent on building her nest. We miss the comings and goings of the Daddy bird – the way he would zip by our head to divert our attention from the nest. That wasn’t exactly fun but it was kind of exciting.
​            I have to admit I was a tad sorry that I had to throw out the hanging basket and plant that I received for my retirement from Keep Fremont Beautiful. I had kept it alive over two winters and I assumed I would keep it alive for a third.  The invasion of mites changed my mind.  
​            After the birds had vacated the premises, I took down the hanging basket and placed it at the end of the patio. My intention was to take out the nest and hose down the plant. By looking down at the basket I was able to focus on the mass of mites moving over the nest and plant, making their way feverishly up the sides of the basket supports to the very tip top of the hook.  
​            Again, wandering mites had made their way to my hands – there was a frantic little dance and a dash to the hose. I realized then, that the plant would be sacrificed – no way was that thing coming back in the house. I found a large trash bag and draped it over the hook of the basket.  I placed a second garbage bag on the ground and opened it. I picked up the bag covered basket and placed it in the second bag. Securing the second bag around the plant and basket, I quickly moved it to the trash can, slamming the lid firmly in place.
​            I hosed off again and retreated to the bathroom to take a shower. Lathering up several times, scrubbing furiously to remove any remaining traces of mites.  Later I walked outside to toss some garbage in the trash can. To my horror, the trash can was covered in creepy crawling mites.  Quickly I hosed my hands and arms.  I’m not exactly proud of what I did next, but I found some ant spray, put on some latex gloves and thoroughly saturated the trash can inside and out. I moved the trash can to the curb to avoid any further contact with the mites. I repeated the part where I hosed off outside, finally returning to the shower, where I lathered and rinsed for a good half hour.   
​            Now a month removed from the Crazy Crack Cardinal family and mite Infestation, I have had an opportunity to ponder possible explanations of what happened to the missing birds… It is a mystery of sorts.  I have a theory… 
​            Perhaps the larger eggs were not cardinal eggs at all. Could it be that the large brown/black bird I had seen leaving the nesting area, had laid those two larger eggs in an attempt to have the cardinals raise the hatchlings as their own? It is possible. Cowbirds have been known to lay their eggs in the nests of other birds. Was it a Cowbird I had seen visiting the nest? Did the Cardinals realize that two of the hatched babies were imposters? Did Daddy kill the first imposter and dispose of the body? Did Mama bird protect the second imposter for a time, and then encourage her to flee before a certain death?  
​            ​Oh sorry – that theory took a dark turn for a moment.  It was wonderful having that crazy Cardinal family as garden guests. Rai and I enjoyed the entertainment, the joy and drama, the birds provided just outside our kitchen window.  I have replaced the hanging basket with a new basket and plant.  I hope to save it over the winter and return it to that protective spot on the breezeway/patio next year.  Who knows – perhaps we will have another bird family as guests next Spring. 
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Summers at the Pool

7/17/2019

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​          When Randy and I got married back in 1987 Sara was nine and Evan was six.  Randy was a member of the Fremont Golf Club but didn’t have time to golf and never figured out swimming. He was happy to have the kids and I take advantage of the pool and grill during the summer.
​         I had taken both Sara and Evan to public pools and out to the lakes during previous summers so they had an “idea” of how to swim – but they needed lessons. We enrolled them in swimming lessons at the Club and they perfected their skills with endless hours spent in the pool. ​ 
​         Going to a private pool was a special treat and we were more than happy to use up the food minimum requirement by charging meals at the grill.  He would always chuckle when he got the monthly statement – he marveled at the itemized listing of Coke after Coke and bag after bag of Doritos.  
​         After they got older and I could just drop them off for the afternoon, he always said the food costs were still cheaper than childcare costs. I’m not sure if that was true?  
​         Sara remembers those olden days when she would spread out her beach towel on the grassy hill and watch after Evan.  She also remembers the inconvenience of having to put on some clothes and walking to the north side of the Club to order food from the grill. Back then it was a self-serve system and you had to wait on yourself. 
 ​         Pretty soon the itemized statements included large orders of French Fries. It’s a bit sad to think that we could use up the bulk of the food minimum in charged French Fries, Cokes, Doritos and frozen candy bars. Mother of the year!
 ​         ​Sara and Evan continued to enjoy time at the pool well into their teenage years. Eventually they wanted to spend time with their friends at the lakes and afternoons at the pool became less frequent. That was OK with me because I still had an extra child (Ramie) who was more than willing to go to the pool with her old Mom.
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       ​​ Ramie was just three years old when she started swimming lessons in 1994. She quickly learned the basics and bravely jumped off the diving board into the arms of a waiting lifeguard. She was a fish in water and my new excuse for hanging out at the pool.
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       ​Even faster than learning to swim, Ramie learned to “charge”. The kid was truly advanced at three years of age – she had taken to that whole “charge” thing and would happily buy a treat for new found friends. What a generous little kid! Randy gasped a few times when he opened those summer statements from the Club – wondering aloud – “what is a Charleston Chew”?
        ​For a few summers, after Randy got sick, I didn’t spend much time at the pool. After he passed, I spent even less time. I wondered if I should keep my membership but decided to keep it for Ramie – she was my fish. We had been through so much and dropping the membership would be another change and losing the use of the pool was like losing another part of Randy. 
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       ​​Ramie went on to be a lifeguard and didn’t spend that much time at the pool while in High School. But no problem - the grandsons were here by then and we began to take advantage of the pool once again. They got signed up for swim lessons, I got to see them more often and they even learned how to “charge”. Sara would bring the kids for a sleep over and we would spend a couple of days at the pool – I figured I would keep the membership for a while longer.
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       ​​Soon Granddaughters RaiLee and Gracyn joined the clan and became happy members of our swimming group. RaiLee has taken a couple sessions of swim lessons at the Club.  Ramie, her mom the lifeguard, has spent quality time teaching Rai proper swimming techniques. Rai is a lot like her Mother in that she is not afraid of the water and is willing to experiment and try new things. Every summer she becomes a bit more skilled.
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       ​​Rai and Gracyn so enjoy the yearly swim with the mermaids at the Club. They both are a bit shy at first, to be in the presence of such amazing creatures but soon they warm up and enjoy the sing along session. Both girls are truly mesmerized by their beauty and their tails – the boys are… meh…   
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       ​​My Sara is in her 40’s now and Ramie is nearing 30 – so on occasion we will enjoy an adult beverage before our meal. Which is a huge plus when relaxing by the pool. We no longer have to serve ourselves and the wait staff is there to meet your every need. For many years now we have eaten proper “grill” meals – popcorn chicken and hamburgers are the most popular. The grandkids will still charge a bag of Doritos and a Coke but it doesn’t show up as such on the itemized statement – I kinda miss that…
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       ​I hosted a makeup birthday party for RaiLee at the pool this year. Her “Cowgirl” birthday themed party had been flooded out in March. It was a small group but so easy for me as the staff waited on us and the pizza was delicious.
       ​ These days I mostly just sit in a chair and take pictures of the kids having fun.  It’s too hard to climb out of the pool and seeing my swimsuit clinging to my flabby body may give the kids nightmares. No one needs to see that.
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       ​ Rai’s latest pool thing is learning how to dive. She is just getting started but is determined to figure it out. Rai is improving with guidance from her mother and encouragement from the lifeguards on duty. 
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       I’m glad Randy gave me and our kids this opportunity to enjoy summers at the Club. Our kids and grandkids all learned to swim at that pool and I know that he would be delighted to see Rai diving fearless into the deep end. He would be scared but oh so proud of that brave little girl. I imagine if he were alive today, he would be sitting with Sara and I on the edge of the baby pool, keeping all the bigger kids away from our Gracyn. 
        I think I heard him gasp when I opened the June statement and saw the balance – but hey, it could have been me who gasped. But then I thought of all the fun we had that month, the time spent with family, the kids clowning around in the water, the birthday party for Rai, that excellent Bloody Mary, not having to cook… membership and memories at the Club – priceless! ​
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​John C. Fremont Days

7/10/2019

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            In the fall of 1986, I was asked to go to lunch. There were four of us sitting at a table in the K.C.’s Restaurant on Park Avenue just south of Military Avenue. The restaurant was a popular spot for business and social lunch meetings. I’m sure people must have stopped and said hello, but with the intervening 30 plus years, I only recall the rather intense sales pitch.  
            Patti and Cherrie were telling me of their memories of the grand pageantry of the old-time 4th of July programs that Samuel Berek had produced for so many years.  They talked of the Centennial Celebration for our town of Fremont in 1956. They explained what an interesting and historically important character John C. Fremont had been in finding a path to the west in our expanding country.  
           They talked of the negative feeling in our town and how a three-day celebration, similar to Nebraskaland Days in North Platte, could bring our community together. I remember thinking, it couldn’t hurt.
           My expertise was in promotion and by the end of the lunch I had volunteered my services. I would be happy to assist in helping to organize and promote what would become John C. Fremont Days.
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​​Promotional materials from the first festival.
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Original logo for John C Fremont Days in 1987, with a special tribute to my cohorts, Patti and Cherrie.
            Shortly after the lunch, the fourth woman determined that work obligations would keep her from assisting with the formation of the JCF Days organization. It was us three – Patti, Cherri and Sue who would develop the organization and get the festival started.  
            Cherrie traveled to North Platte and visited with the organizers of the Nebraskaland Days. Their organizational portfolio system made sense and had already proven successful in their community – it remained to be seen if the plan could be replicated in a similar fashion here in Fremont.  
            Patti had researched the historical elements of the founding of Fremont and the lifetime accomplishments of our name sake John C. Fremont. Local, as well as, regional historians added their own expertise in creating living history programs and activities.  
            There were a few elements that were prioritized in that first year: The Chautauqua Tent, The Historical Encampments, The Children’s Festival at Barnard Park, Civil War Encampments and War Re-enactments, Native American Lectures and Demonstrations, A Beer Garden and Public Dance, Arts and Crafts Vendors in the Park, Historical Parade, Historical Tours, Train Rides and even some Sporting Events.  A John C. Fremont re-enactor was essential as was historically correct costumes.  
            Once the idea was put forth, we scheduled a community meeting.  Patti and Cherrie did a good job of selling the idea of a community festival to our fellow citizens. Volunteers came forward to assist with the planning and implementation.  People who had been involved with individual civic organizations or church groups, ventured beyond their comfort zone and took on major tasks on a very public stage.     
           ​Those nine months (not even a full year) of planning and development were a whirl wind of activity and emotions. Those months tested the collective will, strength, determination and cooperation of Cherrie, Patti and myself. It wasn’t always a pretty or smooth process, but in the end, the festival was a success. Hundreds of individuals came together and did their part to make that first John C. Fremont Days an amazing community festival. 
           ​ You know what’s even more amazing?  Hundreds of people still come together and create a wonderful weekend of festival activities. We still celebrate our name sake and we invite thousands of people to come to our town and see what we have to offer.
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50th Reunion – A Brief Diary

7/2/2019

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            4:45PM Friday June 28, 2019- The long-anticipated Fremont High School 50th Reunion for the Class of 1969 is set to begin in an hour or so. A couple of friends from back in the day are coming by the house and we will go downtown together.  
            The committee has worked for the better part of the past year to organize and make this a fun weekend for all wishing to come back home and reconnect with friends from the past. There are classmates who have remained close and continue to share their grownup lives with their childhood friends. Others simply have gone their separate ways and haven’t had the opportunity or perhaps the desire to keep in touch.
            I have one friend who I see rarely but whenever we get together, it’s like we haven’t been apart. We pick right back up where we left off - talking for hours about anything and about nothing. We have had similar life experiences but our lives have also led us on such divergent paths. We are a comfortable old familiar. That old familiar, that I know I can count on. I’m glad she will be there.
            10:00 PM Friday June 28, 2019– The first night of the reunion was fun. Seriously I had a good time. I’m a little hoarse from yelling over the other voices yelling over the other voices… it was loud. It was good to see my classmates. I was pleasantly surprised to recognize quite a few while some of these older folks took me several minutes of squinting and thinking to finally make the connection. 
            (Monday – July 1, 2019) Addendum:  Organizers attempted to herd the class members for a picture. As we smooshed together, we had the chance to visit with those most near. Not all classmates could be convinced to join our little mass of humanity, so eventually pictures were taken with those willing to pose. The group photos were shared by Mike Heuring – thank you! 
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            ​Around 9:00 PM on Friday my two friends and I were ready to call it a night. We said our good-byes to the lingering crowd and went for a quick ride around the lakes. I wanted to show them how extensive the flooding had been in the area and how the southern section of the City had been so devastatingly damaged. It was getting dark and it was hard to see but it was fun. Oddly reminiscent of those hot summer nights when we would get in the car and drive the square or venture out to the lakes to see what was happening.  
            We joked and laughed – they wondered where they were – they saw a deer – they were amazed at the force of the water that tore down the trees and deposited mounds of silt and sand. We made our way back to my house – we agreed to meet in the morning – coffee and muffins in the shed. It was a good night – I enjoyed visiting with these two old friends and getting reacquainted with some others. 
             I’m glad so many of us are here to enjoy this milestone together – we survived the 1960’s and now we have survived a good part of our 60’s. One more night to remember our youth and celebrate our longevity. 
            4:00 PM Saturday Afternoon - June 29, 2019  – My two friends from last night came over this morning for coffee and muffins. We sat and chatted about our families and the classmates we had seen the night before. It was relaxed and easy. Nancy had to return home but I gave her and Jeri a tour of the writing hut/shed and my garden before she left. It was cool in the hut/shed but already miserably hot in the garden. I do need to get out there and weed but am hoping for a cool down to make the task more bearable.  
            Jeri and I went downtown to pick up sandwiches for lunch and came back to the house to eat and visit a bit more. Jeri returned to her motel to rest and get ready for the next event. I was able to take advantage of having the house to myself, turning down the air and taking a nap before showering and figuring out what to wear.   
            11:00 PM Saturday June 29, 2019 - The next event was dinner and dancing at the Club. Visiting with people was a bit easier and sitting down with a group allowed us to find out about each other in more detail. I am grateful that I had some relatively quiet time to visit with a few old friends and get a feel for their life experiences and the journey they have taken thus far…  
            I had made arrangements to deliver books to a couple of girls from the class. It was extremely gracious of them to support my writing efforts, as well as, the effort to fund the special needs trust for my granddaughter Gracyn. It was good to have something to talk to friends about and it prompted them to tell stories about their own family.  No one is immune to life’s challenges.  
            From a different perspective, visiting with fellow classmates who had lost their spouse to death, created a certain heartfelt bond. It felt like a twisted accomplishment we shared. A devastating experience we managed to survive and a continuing journey we were navigating still.      
            As I scanned the room and watched people chatting, dancing or gathering for pictures, I sensed their individual joy and sadness, sickness and health, success and failure, acceptance and in a few cases lingering resentments, insecurities or boredom. It was intense at times to be bombarded with such a spectrum of emotional vibrations. I found the environment easier to handle when focusing on a conversation between myself and one or two individuals.    
            There is quite a difference between age 18 and 68 - after only a few hours, my energy levels were depleted. Jeri was ready to retire for the evening and so was I. We visited and laughed on the way home. Jeri said she would return in the morning to finish off the muffins and drink mugs of coffee. We hugged goodnight and off she went to her motel. 
            ​It was a relief to take off my bra, put on my jammies, reflect on the time spent with old friends and then begin the process of writing it all down. 
            Luckily, the reunion committee had sent out a questionnaire to the class and many had returned information and interesting tidbits about their lives. They compiled the information and made a booklet for easy reference.  
             I just now sat quietly for a bit, looking through the book, enjoying the old photos and learning more about my classmate’s accomplishments, their hopes and dreams concerning the future and reading the words of wisdom shared by this special group of people. I imagine I will refer to this book from time to time as I attempt to recall an individual from the past or I hear of a classmate who has passed.   
            For most of my adult life Fremont has remained my home. Quite a few of our classmates have passed on and even though we hadn’t kept in touch, I feel their absence. They were a part of a shared youth and now they are no longer with us.   
             Of those remaining classmates, many had not visited Fremont in years.    For a brief weekend, Fremont felt homier and more complete with the Class of 1969 back in town. I have to be honest… It occurred to me that perhaps this would be the last time that I would see many of these dear people…  A sad but realistic thought as my older brother passed on a month after celebrating his 50th reunion.    
            ​None of us knows what the future holds. I sincerely hope for safe travels to all who ventured near or far to participate in the festivities. Here’s hoping to continued good health and the ability to gather again in 2024 to celebrate the 55th Class Reunion.
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