Volunteering
by Chuck Swenson
When we lived in Sawyer, Michigan, the school district was referred to as River Valley. While we lived there I occasionally volunteered in the elementary school. I would visit one of the first grade classes to help the child learn.
I didn’t consider myself to be a magician but one of the magic tricks I always brought with me was my magic ball. Telling the kids I had such a ball, they immediately wanted to see it. I had to explain that because it was “magic” they couldn’t see it because it was invisible. You could not see it but you cold toss it and catch it. Then I would say, “Well let me get it, it’s in my pocket.” Searching my front pockets and my shirt pocket, I couldn’t find it.
The kids were disappointed by all of this searching until I said, “Oh I remember now, I put it in my hip pocket.” Mrs. Kulwicki, their teacher, had a paper bag on her desk which I then borrowed to make the demonstration. It worked the first time as I tossed it and caught it in the bag. I repeated it several times saying, “I never miss”! Then I asked for a volunteer to toss it.
Almost everyone wanted to try. When I handed it to one girl I had to warn her, “Now be careful you don’t drop it.” and then say, “Oh, I’m so sorry, it must have slipped,” and reaching down and retrieving it, handed it back to her. In a subtle but fun way the secret came out. I told the kids they could take the magic ball home with them and show the trick to their parents.
There was always a feeling that the kids were giving me more than I was giving them. Their smiles, hugs, and happiness when they saw me coming to school was part of their giving.
At the end of the school year they presented me with a cap which read, “Proud to be a R.V. volunteer.” The R.V. stood for River Valley. I now wear it and translate it to mean Retirement Village. I hope to never stop volunteering.
Jimmy Stewart
by Bud Koorndyk
Jimmy enlisted as a Corporal on December 7, 1941 completing his Advanced Flight training in 1949 when he became a Second Lieutenant. In 1942-1943 he attended Four-Engine Training School and became an Instructor in B17’s. He was then promoted to 1st Lieutenant based on his ability as a pilot, and assigned to the 2nd Air Division Bomb Group.
I went overseas in July, 1943 with Jimmy Stewart and flew my first mission with him on Dec. 23, 1943. All the men who flew with him admired him for his leadership abilities and calmness in combat situations. He was never looked upon as a movie star but rather as a fellow pilot doing his duty and doing it to the best of his ability. Flying with Jimmy on a mission was no different than flying with any other Group Commander.
He went from Major to a full Colonel and Commander of the 2nd Combat Wing of the 2nd Air Division in 3 years. His Decorations were: Distinguished Flying Cross– one Oak Leaf Custer Air Medal– three Oak Leaf Clusters, Croix de guerre with Valor– French award, Distinguished Service Medal.
He retired as a Brigadier General Reserve in July 1959. June and I have been part of his life, and on one of our overseas trips we spent three days with Jimmy and his wife Gloria in Norwich England.
Jimmy and Gloria lost one son in the Vietnam conflict. They had two daughters of their own and a son that he always called his own who came into his life when he married Gloria.
I’m Cold and Tired, Dad
by Chuck Jaquith
Some people call it Swan Lake and others call it Mud Lake. Either name is fine. It is a small spring fed pond located east of Petoskey on the road to Harbor Springs. It is connected by a shallow creek to Spring Lake. Bass and Northern Pike swim up the stream to spawn beneath the lily pads on the south end of the pond. There is a population of Perch, Blue Gills, and Sunfish living in the pond that serve as food for the larger fish.
I owned a small aluminum boat named the Codger which my son and I could easily load on the roof of our four wheel drive Scout. Don was 16 years old and my usual fishing companion as we fished the inland lakes around Petoskey in the late 1970s.
We decided to try “Swan Lake” one Saturday evening in June. The sun was shining when we started to fish we were getting bites, but they were from fish so small they could not get on the hooks.
We tried worms and casting artificial baits but were not too successful. The sun went under some clouds, and the wind began to kick up. We moved the boat to the north end of the pond, but still were not catching fish. Don said:“I’m getting a little cold and tired, Dad,” and he reeled up his line. I said:“Let’s pull the anchor and let the wind drift us back to the area where we put the boat.” Don was agreeable.
While I trolled a large night crawler, Dan laid down on the boat seat to get out of the wind. He was not even fishing. A bobber on his line allowed his line and hook with the tiniest smidgen of a worm to go bouncing from wave to wave, not in the water hardly at all. Suddenly there was a splash, his rod tip bent down, and his pole fell to the boat bottom. He sat up, grabbed the pole and began to reel in the fish. I put down my fishing rod and picked up the landing net.
He was able to land a 12 inch Calico Bass (sometimes called a Crappie) that was as wide as a kitchen plate. Without a doubt, it was one of the largest Crappies I had ever seen. For Don the day was a success. He had out fished his dad, but he took quite a kidding about the fish that jumped out of the water to take his bait. We took the boat out of the water and loaded it on the Scout. Don had quite a story to tell his mother. Although we fished that lake many times and caught some nice Bass and Northerns, we never caught another Crappie. I wondered if Don caught the only one?
The Story of our Love
by Gerry Carlson
Gaylord was drafted into the service May 22, 1942, left on a bus to Kalamazoo for his physical exam and was accepted. The next day, he went to Battle Creek for induction into the United States Army Air Force and then on to basic training at Jefferson Barracks in Missouri. A friend was able to sneak him into the Air Force band. The band was formed in Jefferson Barracks and then shipped to Camp Kearns, close to Salt Lake City, Utah.
Gerry left Concordia, Kansas to live with her brother Bill and his wife Dorothy where she found work first as an elevator operator and then at an insurance company. Gerry and some of the girls in the office would go to the U.S.O. to volunteer as hostesses. There she became acquainted with a trumpet player with a group that played at the USO. His name was Edgar Vollbrecht. He told me he had a buddy who played saxophone and clarinet in a group that played on the base at the Officer’s Club and he wanted to introduce us. This was in 1944. Gaylord received Gerry’s phone number and called her. They talked and made plans to meet. Gay asked Gerry what color outfit she would be wearing so he would recognize her. Gerry said she said she would be wearing an aqua suit. As Gerry got off the elevator, Gay stepped up and introduced himself and they went out for lunch. (Gaylord wants everyone to know that his eyes were perfectly clear at this time.) This started a romance and they got together as often as they could. Soon marriage was discussed.
A wedding could not be set because at that time they were calling up men from the band to go overseas for the Battle of the Bulge. Thankfully, Gaylord was not picked and they were able to set a wedding date of April 4, 1945. They were married in the Chapel at Camp Kearns by Chaplain Sink. Edgar Vollbrecht and Gerry’s good friend and roommate Mary Hahn were their attendants. They were escorted out of the chapel under the Honor Guard.
Gaylord’s parents took the train (along with many of the troops) out west for the wedding and to meet Gerry for the first time. Gerry’s brother Bill and his wife Dorothy held a reception for the newlyweds in their small apartment (standing room only). After the wedding, they moved into a basement apartment until Gaylord was discharged from the Army in Dec. of 1945.
On January 2, 1946 they left Salt Lake City on a train, stopping in Chicago for a few days for a delayed honeymoon, and then on to Grand Rapids where they have lived for 62 3/4 wonderful years.They have been blessed with two children, five grandchildren and three great grandsons. Their lives at Covenant Village have been an answer to prayer. They feel blessed to have found so many new friends who they consider their extended family. God has been so good.
A Journey Toward Love
By Bob Carlson
Falling for one’s affection has been accepted over the years. Some stories have been quite unique, and this one is no exception. There was this big football tackle weighing 245 lbs. He was returning for his senior year of college. He was both anxious and excited because of the expectations of the coming football season. This starting tackle had his excitement suddenly interrupted before the season had even started. It began with a trip to the emergency room. It was discovered that he had a ruptured appendix and immediate surgery was necessary. The surgery was very successful and he stayed 3 days in the Bloomington, Illinois hospital.
Then it was back to school to register for classes. He was not feeling well, so he went to see the nurse. He had a temperature of 106.00. He was rushed back to the hospital for extensive tests with great urgency. It was discovered that he had peritonitis. This was very serious. There were doctors and nurses and of course his mother at his side 12 hours a day. He was the first patient to be treated with erythromycin. He also had heat treatments consisting of turpentine and strips of wool soaked in water and then heated and laid over his body. The heat lamp was turned on. This was meant to draw the toxins out of his body. This lasted for 5 weeks and then he was prepared to be moved to a hospital in Chicago.
On his last day at Bloomington hospital a most interesting incident occurred. On his way to X-ray there was a minor accident when his gurney and another gurney collided. The wheel of his gurney became lodged in the track of the elevator. As his mattress began to slide he was caught by a beautiful young nurse trainee. They were called “probies.” This young lady stopped him from falling on the floor, but she did not stop him falling in love. A casual conversation evolved and then they went their separate ways. Incidentally, it was rumored that he had asked for the name and number of that young attractive probie. He survived a torturous stay at Bloomington hospital. He had lost 50 lbs. and received 12 pints of blood yet he was thankful to everyone and to God for seeing him through.
Bob spent 5 months at home and then returned to Wesleyan University in a 1937 black two door Nash Lafayette. First thing he did was call his best buddy, also named Bob. His friend’s wife had been friends with Phyllis, the young attractive nurse, since childhood. So, he asked his friend Bob “what’s the story about this girl?” His friends immediately fixed them up for a short date. It was an unforgettable experience. I must have fallen in love.
Bob graduated and was drafted into the Korean War. When he returned home he took a job with Marshall Fields. He and Phyllis were married in 1955.
Fifty years later they celebrated their anniversary with their five children and 7 grandchildren.
Africa Here we Come
By Lewis Wood
Approaching a new year we tend to think about new beginnings. The Apostle Paul writes in Phil. 3:13, “This one thing I do...I press toward the mark for the prize…”. The following was a life changing beginning for us.
On March 6, 1954, a cold wind blowing, after weeks of preparation, sorting, packing and transporting all our earthly belongings to Brooklyn, New York, the time had finally come. Our little 3/4 ton pick-up, loaded with our goods, had been grabbed up by a crane and gently placed aboard the little WWII Vintage Liberty ship and secured to the deck.
At the appointed time to go aboard, Mr. Bowen, the director of our Mission Society, accompanied us to the ship and up the gangway, where we met “Abe” who was to be our Steward for the three week trip to Cape Town, South Africa. Mr. Bowen, a long time veteran missionary to Africa, introduced himself to Abe, and looking into his eyes said, “You are a believer aren’t you?” Abe, somewhat taken aback, responded by saying, “Yes, I am, I received Jesus as my Savior many years ago..” It so happened that Virginia and I along with another young missionary couple were the only passengers to sail that day on the “Constantia”, a South African freighter.
Our cabins were spacious with twin beds and private bathrooms and Abe’s only job for the trip was to see to our needs. He was available 24/7 to cater to our every whim with, tea and biscuits, cold drinks, ice cream, etc. There were games to play, books to read and he even erected a canvas swimming pool on deck. A table tennis table was available at all times. Morning coffee was served in our cabins at any hour we chose. Shoes placed outside our cabin doors in the evening were bright and shiny in the morning. As you can see, missionaries lead a miserable existence.
Our meals were served to us in the Officer’s dining room. The Captain was a very congenial young man with a good sense of humor. After about a week at sea with no land in sight, I asked, “How far are we from land?” He said, “It’s only about a mile.” When he saw my questioning look he added, “Straight down”.
Christmas in Japan
By Adelaide McDaniel
During our years in Japan as Bible teachers we did not import Christmas customs from America or Europe since we hoped for a spontaneous Japanese expression of joy over the birth of Christ. Usually the Christians plan a dinner to which friends and family are invited. This provides an opportunity to tell invited guests of the birth of Christ and its meaning for us so many years later.
One Christmas Eve, after a candlelight dinner, attended by 60-70 folks, an opportunity came up to speak with a young man, a student at the University in our city, who prefaced his words with an enthusiastic, “This is my first Christmas!” His big smile said it all- “This is a wonderful celebration of prime importance to me.”
My immediate reaction was critical and when I spoke to him later I explained (gently I hope) that he was 21 years old and therefore he had experienced 21 Christmases. His reply so impressed me that I remember it a good 20 years later. He said, “This year I have studied the Bible and I believe Jesus is my savior. I have Christ in my life this year, past years December 25th was just a date on the calendar. Without Christ there is no Christmas. ”
