Some Pictures of Hamm

This park was near the exchange school in Hamm. My first exchange was in my second year at Rigby High in 1990 and 1991.

The year began in a tough way. My father's colon cancer returned, which should not have surprised me. He had been in remission for five years, and suddenly, it started to hurt him when we drove in the truck on some of the dirt roads on the farm.

At that time, my dad also became highly sensitive to smells, especially cooked food. He had difficulty eating, and he was quite sick that summer. His doctor told him not to worry. It was probably just a "bug."

They found the cancer had returned soon after that, but that was after some exploratory surgery they did in the fall of '90.

I remember taking the German teacher to Jackson, Wyoming in September or early October of 1990. We attempted to return home by taking the steeper route on the Idaho side of the Tetons, and I lost the transmission in my red Taurus.

My first clue, that my dad was not well, was when I called to see if there was a car or older pick-up truck I could use to get to work. I wanted to use it, while we had the transmission repaired on our Taurus. Dad knew what was happening to him at that time, and I could tell he worried about things, but I was still "clueless." When he seemed so overwhelmed at that time, I should have known what was happening.

We bought a van and didn't redo the transmission on the Taurus. It was a mistake in one way: I could have had the work done for a minimum amount of the cost, and that would have been better than buying a new car at a time, when we were making double house payments, but you only learn lessons like that after the fact. It's part of the human condition.

My student's name is Donovan Davis, one of my former Rigby High exchange students. He took this picture of the school we visited all those years ago in Germany.

Donavon was with me on the second exchange I did in '93.

The experience in Hamm saw many changes in my own life. Before I took my American students from Rigby High on the first exchange I did in Hamm in 1990, my father passed away. His cancer returned. He battled it for a few months, and then he was gone. That tragedy for me changed my life. I was never the same after that. It's what happens when you lose a parent, regardless how old they are or how old you are. It's not an easy thing to experience.

That was a difficult trip in 1990, but my students were great. During the next trip in the summer of '93, my paternal grandmother was in a near fatal accident. Her brain stem injury made life miserable for her during the next four or five years. I was in Germany on a second exchange with Hamm, and the last time I had talked to her was just after our flight from Idaho Falls to Salt Lake City. There was a horrible storm, and my grandmother felt something bad was going to happen that year. She cried when I talked to her on the phone. I assured her I would visit her when I returned from Germany, and she seemed alright with that. She'd asked me to visit her before my trip for at least a month before our departure.

After my grandmother's accident, she stopped breathing and her heart stopped beating. The family was upset that I wasn't there, so they pressured medical authorities to revive my grandmother. That was a mistake, but like I explained, everyone wanted to avoid having that tragedy happen while I was in Germany, so far away from home. My grandmother suffered for four years or more before her passing.

Ann's mom passed away in '97. She died of Lou Gehrig's Disease, which is horrific. Ann spent a lot of time on the road during the time the Germans were staying with us in Idaho Falls. My mistake was having Ann and Kristin go with me. Ann's mom was not well, and after being in Germany only about a week, she passed away.

That ordeal was even worse, because there was no closure for my daughter. I should have sent Kristin home with Ann for the funeral, but I didn't do it. I thought everything would be alright, but it wasn't.

For me, I have fond memories of being in Germany with my students, but the exchange I did so many years ago was a burden for my family, emotionally and financially.

I forget the tough parts when I see the passion my former students have for the language and the culture, and most importantly, they want to return to Hamm to see things we experienced there. To rediscover the things we found there.

That makes me feel that all was worth it, in spite of the toll that those exchanges took on my own family. Besides, if I had a passport and ticket right now, I would be on my way to Germany right now. I miss a real Brat. I miss Pommes Fritz with Mayo. I miss the Doppel XXL Ritter bars, and yes, like Donavon, I miss the Magnum Gold, although I also liked the Doppel Doppel as well.

The Day At Craters of the Moon

Tommy loved this stop on the way home from Sun Valley. We started by going into the visitor's center, and I bought Tommy a few small things to help him remember this park.

He loved hiking. Our problem was the wind. The paths were asphalt sections that were quite thick, and it was easy to lose balance while trying to walk a bit.

The wind was also very bad. Ann took some pictures, and each time she exited the car, Tommy went walking with her. It was a fantastic day.

Anna, Happy Unbirthday To You

Anna was in Idaho when her birthday arrived, but this was a special year. Not only was she able to celebrate her birthday with Grandma and Pop Pop, but as soon as she arrived in Florida, she could start looking forward to enjoying a day with her dad--another day of favorite things to eat, another day of pretty packages to open.

She called earlier Thursday afternoon. Pop Pop was sitting in the TV room, and Jack was watching a DVD. Pop Pop fell asleep.

The phone rang. Anna was so excited to tell me about her birthday party she had today, and she promised to call back, but today was my son-in-law's day with Anna. I refused to interrupt their fun, but tomorrow is another day, and I will get a chance to talk to her about the fun she had in Florida.

The first thing she did in Idaho was open her giant card. She loves the Hello Kitty thing, and this card was no exception. She slept with it that night.

In my almost 58 years, I never remember sleeping with a birthday card. I had this stuffed monkey once that was as big as I was as a four or five-year-old, and he sometimes was a partner. Maybe it was guilt from thumping on the thing all day. For hours, I would hit that chimp in the plastic face and pretend to fight it.

Until I tried to think of any toys I connected with as a child, I'd forgotten it. There was this large stuffed dog too. I rode it like a horse, although the think was set lying down. But it was big. I rode it as if there was a saddle on it.

What is there about toys that a human being would suddenly remember it after a 50 year absence.

Anna loved the wrapping paper on each gift, and she studied it carefully before opening it, but once she started, it was like a shark in a feeding frenzy.

The ripping of paper happened quickly, yet I didn't notice it. Anna's smiles rendered me unable to notice anything. I watched her reaction to see if Grandma and Pop Pop did well during our shopping spree.

It happened so quickly, everything seemed to be in a blur. But what is there to notice about individual packaging. The main point was that the paper was Anna's favorite color--pink.

Only purple and light green and sometimes yellow are acceptable.

So far, Grandma and Pop Pop have been very lucky. We've chosen the right colors when we bought things for Anna. Not only does she wear them willingly, but she also likes to model them for us when we visit.

And what's a party with Hello Kitty stuff without a stuffed Hello Kitty doll? Anna loved it, and she smiled even wider when Pop Pop told her it was a Hello Doggy Doll.

"Nooooo," she said. Her voice was gentle but firm and assertive. Then she would laugh her Anna laugh, full of passion and joy--almost to the point of being hysterical.

When I took Jack to the movies after returning from taking Lydia and the kids to the airport, it was difficult watching the movie we went to that evening. I missed the laughs of my three grandchildren.

Jack usually shows his enjoyment, but he was still sad from saying good-bye hours earlier. He laughed occasionally and just smiled. I kept wishing I could hear Tommy and Anna's laughs in the dark theater. But that will be for another visit, either when they're here in Idaho Falls or when we're in Florida.

This last gift in the picture above is a lunchbox for school; it appeared to be Anna's favorite. She immediately began carrying it, the strap over her shoulder like a woman would tote her purse.

And as I describe Anna's lunchbox, I realize just now the picture I wanted to get before Lydia and the kids left for home this last Saturday. Anna had a plastic purse with little things she carried in it: typical things a little girl would place in a purse. But there was one exception. She had a small light saber that Jack had, which fit into the handle of a larger one. The toymaker made it like a light saber dagger. Anna carried it in her purse. It was on a day when she and Tommy and Jack had been outside in the backyard fighting imaginary galactic enemies of the Republic.

And what are Hello Kitty presents without a cake and plates to match? It was a perfect day, and I know that today was a perfect "unbirthday" too, because for Anna, the perfect celebration is with her dad.

She tells me that her dad makes the "bes-test" scrambled eggs in the world. There are a whole list of things she told me about her dad and how incredible they are.

A Close Encounter of the Toy Story Kind

I've blogged about the story several times, but when my doctor told me in January of '05, that I had two weeks to two months to live, and that there was no chance of further chemotherapy, since my body was so weakened and affected by the medical treatment, it was a sad time.

By February, my Annie says this to me one morning: "Jon, if you could go anywhere, where could we go for a few days."

Without hesitation, I put my order in for Disneyland, and Kristin and Jack came with us. It was an incredible trip.

Jack was only two, so his walking and running sometimes resulted in a fall. When he saw Woody and Jessie, he ran to them. He ignored the line. He was so excited to see these characters from a movie he loved.

I bought him the character at the end of the trip, and as we waited for our shuttle, he held it tightly, as if he thought that easing his grip might mean losing it. He still has it, although the hat comes off sometimes.

It was the beginning of many trips to California, not because it's the only place to go, not because it's the best place to go, but because it brings back so much positive energy: good vibes. It's the memories of my own children and my grandchildren, and it's the realization that when all is well with them, nothing else matters.

That's what I hope they remember about me.

The Woody and Jessie thing was monumental for Jack, and the trip, along with my swimming and my desire to be with my soulmate and grandchildren and children, were key to my being here today.

Victor Frankl wrote this book entitled Man's Search For Meaning, detailing the thing that ensured his survival during his experience in a Nazi Concentration Camp.

I refuse ever to suggest that the horrors he experienced are like my small concerns, but I do know that like him, I owe my survival to the desire to remain with loved ones.

That fact possibly explains why Disneyland is a special place for me, and why it will always remain that way. The memories are so rich there, and this summer day's experience with those Toy Story characters made me remember what keeps me here.

Summer 2010 Disneyland Trip's First Day

I already spent time on another blog telling about our day's first rides in Fantasyland. We made another stop near the Pinocchio ride.

For me personally, it's fun to see Jack's nostalgic side, his tendency to do things like we do on other trips. Occasionally, it's almost a ritual, like when he knocks on the small door near the exit of the Alice in Wonderland ride.

I never tire of savoring moments like this, and I hope my grandchildren will remember me. Thoughts of my own grandfather's are still very vivid for me, but my memory recalls things from when I was two or three.

There are bad things about that. I use this standard joke occasionally. I tell people I have Welsh Alzheimer's Disease. I've forgotten everything but my grudges.

Jack's First Day At Disneyland

The first day at Disneyland on any trip is exciting. We bought Jack a canteen, which he called his "cowboy water bottle." At least that's what I remember his calling it. I know it was cowboy something.

We were at Cal-Ranch, where we have always bought him his occasional cowboy hat, and I found a camelbak on sale for a very good price. Jack wanted one, and we had one in the shopping cart, but then he found a canteen.

It was half the price of what I was going to get, and it worked better. Jack used it during the entire trip, on the way to California and back and every day in the park.

The hotel worked out well. We had breakfast each morning before leaving, and a shuttle picked us up a short distance away from the hotel each morning.

It was perfect.

Ever since Jack was one, we always started on something a bit easy at the park. On the very first visit, we took Jack and Tommy to "It's A Small World." It began a perfect day.

Then the tradition changed. The boys began having favorite rides of their own, usually something in Fantasyland.

But that was before Buzz Lightyear.

On this trip, we began with Snow White. I wish someone could tell me why this ride scares my grandsons. Maybe it's an innate fear of witchy women. The Eagles sang a song about it. There have been countless movies about it. Everyone fears women like the witch on that ride.

For me, it was never about Disneyland. It was about the Fourth grade and the teacher I had that still makes me awaken occasionally at night--my chest pounding, my teeth grinding, my fists clenching. Yes, I eventually came in contact with what the Germans call a Hundin.

The 60's and surfer music desensitized everyone. When something was really cool, the response was "hey, that's bitchin'!" So I think the same root of that word eventually lost its power, even if the more archaic term still applies to this gray-headed Medusa, who walked with a limp and a permanent sneer on her face.

Hell, after tell this story, I might be too afraid to ride the Snow White ride at Disneyland on our next trip.

My Take On Toontown

If I had my way, I'd be responsible for washing down this entire part of the park in "dip." It's the only section of Disneyland I really dislike.

It's too hot, and there is little shade. It's too noisy. It's full of spots where I trip.

Ann fell here back in '05 or so. She hit her face so hard on the pavement that she had some trouble with dizziness. I figure she had a slight concussion. She bled on her shirt from hitting her nose when she smacked the cobblestone section too.

Immediately Disney Security appeared in white fedora hats. I was in an electric cart and couldn't get her up from where she fell. Kristin couldn't either. They helped her get up. She also turned her ankle badly.

A manager from one of the stores came out with concern on her face.

"Can we offer you a T-shirt or something?" The security person also inquired what they could do to make up for the whole thing.

Ann tripped on a curb--one that was hard to see because of the placement of a trash receptacle, and we told them that too.

Finally, I looked at the store manager. "You know," I said. "If you want to give my wife a shirt, that would be great, because she has blood all over what she has on right now, but you really don't have to do that. We're not litigious. We won't sue, because we don't do that, so if you want to do that, it would be fine."

The older security man looked at the others and the store manager. "Where are you from?" He asked it with an interesting tone of voice. It was like he implied we were from the moon or something. He explained how many people take advantage of something like this and actually take a fall to score a settlement.

We signed waver forms. When we arrived home, I took Ann to the doctor to ensure nothing was wrong.

But like I said, I've never been a fan of Toontown, especially after my Sweetie fell on the pavement. I've also had a couple of close calls with the cobblestone streets there. But regardless what happens, we're not litigious.

If someone really made me angry, however, I would give them problems just for fun, like doctor who works in radiology at EIRMC. He cut a line, used to administer chemo. He wasn't supposed to use a scalpel in the procedure, and like the first time he did it months earlier, he began slicing away at scar tissue around the plastic line. The nurse warned him, like the previous time, not to do it. Suddenly, he sliced it in two, and it entered my bloodstream.

"Mr. Ward, you're going to have to get up and walk about 20-30 yards down the hall." The doctor looked at me. His voice was full of urgency.

"This is where it stops," said the male nurse. "You're going to wheel him in on a gurney."

I believe the doctor wanted me to walk a bit, get that plastic moving, and watch while I fell to the ground after it entered my heart.

They made an incision in the other room, and fished a wire into the artery. I felt a fluttering feeling. The nurse told me the plastic was on my heart valve. I was trying not to panic, taking deep breaths slowly and hoping I would be alright to see my family. It was close to Christmas Eve.

Ninety minutes later, they fished it out. The same doctor inserted another "line," but I refused to let him place it in my chest as he did before. I wanted something that could be removed easier.

We saw the forms he filled out to state what happened. He falsified information. Another nurse, one originally from Sweden and one who took very good care of me while I was going through tough times on chemo, told me to get a lawyer.

We made contact, but they told us that I had to have died to do anything.

I developed a huge blood clot in the days after that mess. I had to remain stationary for days, to ensure that the incision didn't begin to bleed, and given the whole procedure, I could have bled to death. That massive blood clot effectively ended my teaching career.

The circulation in my right leg was never the same after that. The swelling was massive.

But we didn't really pursue it, although we thought about contacting a lawyer outside this area, where they would have done something.

I just wanted to make sure that someone like that never had another chance to allow his arrogance to take someone's life. I also wanted to ensure, that such a man would never practice medicine again. The whole little walk down the hall thing still haunts me. I really believe he wanted me and my problem to go away into that "good sleep."

In the Words Of Desi, "Lucie, You've Got Some Splaining To Do!"

OK. What I want to know is if my Annie smiled when she took this picture of me as a "Super Snack Pack."

The ride is one that Jack enjoyed since he was very small, and I always ride it with him. At this point, I think he does it for the memories.

Scary rides are not for him. It terrifies Jack to ride something that bothers him, whether it's too fast, too dark, too steep or a combination of the three with dark, foreboding things lurking about during the ride.

I will never complain about my grandchildren going on a ride like this. Little ones grow old too quickly, and then suddenly, they're too cool to be seen in something like this.

You Know You're An Old Coot When. . .

I found myself waiting for Jack and my Annie for a while, so I decided to take in more vibes by riding in the horse-drawn trolley car. Before the end of the day, I did it twice--once with this white draft horse and a another time with a large black Percheron.

The fun part for me was getting a chance to stroke the large animal. I found myself wanting to rub the animal's forehead, like we often did with our cutting horses, but the drivers at Disneyland would hear of it.

They would only let people do that if they rubbed the area behind the harness on their ribs. The animal like it, because he noticed I was there and seemed pleased.

I just wanted to catch a whiff of that smell that every horse has. I guess country boys are like that.

We would always pat them at the base of the front of the neck between the front legs. I didn't do it.

I didn't want to risk the horse striking at me with its massive hooves. Although I don't have a lot of confidence that any of those drivers were the Disney version of the Horse Whisperer, I really think they knew what caused a problem when a tourist did something stupid.

Contrary to my nature, I did what they asked. I actually enjoyed the contact with an animal. It seems like an eternity ago when we cared for our own horses after riding them during the day to herd cattle.

I never liked horses, so it shocked me how sentimental I was about the whole think.

We had this buckskin appaloosa mare, a terrible animal possessed by at least 40 evil demons.

She would nuzzle up to you, and then when you least suspected it, she would bite you on the stomach or love handles, leaving a large bruise the size of your fist while making this ungodly screechy whinny. Her eyes laughed when she did it. Once, it actually left a blood blister on my side.

Sometimes she would decide the day was over, and she would first go to her knees and then roll over. You either stepped out of the saddle, or she rolled over you.

I told dad I wanted to strap a set of buck horns to her head and turn her loose for the opening day of the Utah deer hunt. Utah hunters would even shoot and tag a car, as long as it had a set of great antlers.

The plan never happened, but eventually, we grew tired of Pansy. Yes the evil mare's name was Pansy. We fattened her, and she became a participant in a French exchange program. That was a time when France bought a lot of horses. I figure her steak was the one that bit the person who ordered it.

Jack And The Mad Hatter Blues

Jack loves hats. He loved the new Alice In Wonderland with Johnny Depp too, so when we walked by the hat shop in Fantasyland with all the hats, we stopped for a moment.

We always do that, but Jack spotted this one immediately. There had been a few people wearing it, and we noticed them, because these people were not shy at all.

For Jack, he loved trying it on long enough to get a picture, but he didn't want to think about owning it. It was enough to don it momentarily.

I love his Mad Hatter expression.

Riding The Riverboat in Bismarck

It was a rush to get to the boat before our scheduled departure. The trip we took on it in the summer of '09 was a perfect day. We weren't that lucky in 2010.

I had to do the trip, because I lost the camera with the pictures I had on it.

We had hoped that there would be a trip available with dinner, but not enough people signed up. It still worked out, because there was a Pizza Hut not far from the boat. The big thing was just getting out on the river.

The wind was blowing hard that day, so hard that it almost impossible to stand on the deck. Other when Ann took some pictures, we stayed inside the boat at a table.

At the end of the trip, we go beneath this large bridge, and then they navigate it back up the river a distance of about 50 yards to the dock.

By the time we returned, blue sky started to appear. And it was almost time to start back on the road.

After a break we took a few more pictures and climbed back into the car to continue our trip.

Bismarck is a great stop. The river is serene, and the ride is so peaceful. It's a great way to spend an afternoon. I only wish we could make one more trip to Minnesota.

I will miss going to Red Wing, even though we have enough pottery and even though we can order things online. I will miss this pizza place with incredible cheese cake in Rochester. And I will miss The Mall of America.

If I need a taste of Minnesota, however, I do have all my Garrison Keillor things I can listen to. And more importantly, I have all our pictures.

And I have the memories--Tommy placing his dinosaurs in the window for me before our arrival, Anna jumping up and down when we Lydia helped us surprise the kids at Target in Rochester, Sammy growling. The frogs in early summer were great too. I'll miss that a lot.

The Adventures We Had With Pooh and Friends

One memory of Anna is something I will never forget. We were there when she began talking for the first time, and some things she said were like child metaphors.

A speaking child over the age of four or five would say things differently, but Anna's communication worked, and besides, it was hilarious--not only from the standpoint of how family understood her completely but also from the shock and horror on faces of tourists who overheard her.

This was her favorite ride, and when we were close to it, or if we asked everyone what they wanted to do, she would answer in her little voice. Her eyes would flash with excitement.

"I wanna go Pooh," she'd say.

People would turn immediately, some jerked their heads like a hoot owl, and then they walked quickly to a safe zone. I figure they must not have children, because even if Anna had meant it in the way they interpreted the ambiguous statement, the diaper would have protected them.

And besides, I've seen adults who smelled much worse than any of my grandchildren in any kind of circumstance.

But their reaction was funny, something I will never forget. It is one of the things I'll always remember about Anna, although there are many fun moments that I think of with all of my grandchildren--Tommy's passion for trains, Jack's enthusiasm for Star Wars Toys at Burger King, Anna's ballerina moves, and Sammy's growls.

When you're a grandparent, remembering fun things like this is what you do.

Just Chillin' At Thunder Mountain Railroad

Here I sit at the railing. I'm in my electric cart, Jack is about to sit with Annie on the ride. Ann takes a picture. I look at the picture and imagine the sound of the ride on the rails and the squeals as people sit with arms upright and smile in the warm California sunshine.

I love the vibes here, and I also love how much my little ones like being here.

It's fun having so many memories of my children and grandchildren here.

Each trip brings more things to make me smile.

When my son-in-law Jeff did his residency in Ontario, California, Ann and Jack and I spent almost 40 days in the park. It was the first year we fulfilled a dream I always had: owning a Premium Pass.

We would drive to California, usually arriving very late in the evening.

After arriving at the gates of the apartment complex, we were only minutes away, and we would call Lydia. It was just two turns, only about 75 yards from seeing two more grandchildren.

Then we would see Lydia under a light post, holding Anna in her arms and gripping the hand of Tommy, who jumped up and down in his excitement to see us.

The next day, after parking the car at the park, Jack would always exit the car, and realizing that he was finally in Disneyland, he would hug me and say, "Oh, thank you Pop Pop." It's one of the memories that make me smile.