The Buck Mountain Little Big League

Mattox, Cole and me @ Buck Mountain

Aliyana @ bat, Elandro, Cole and Mattox
along with Kelleigh, Hector and Annie

Mattox @ bat

My sister Vonda, brother Tom and me @ Buck Mountain

I haven't been out of town in so long that just going to neighboring Scottsdale to my doctor to endure my annual prostate exam seems like a real adventure! So when Kenny and Karen invited the entire Grove family to join them in a weekend jaunt to Buck Mountain for a little R & R on August 20th I could hardly contain myself until the day arrived. Vonda would drive her Honda Pilot across town to my house and pick me up at 7AM on that Saturday morning. I was so excited I woke up at 2AM and couldn't go back to sleep so took a shower, found a jacket to take; accumulated my share of the lunch, bottled water; a fresh baked Boysenberry pie; a big family size bag of potato chips; and a thermos of freshly make 2AM coffee. And, Oh yes, a giant roll of toilet paper (since there are no facilities at Buck Mountain). Neither did I forget my big fat book which I am half way through, THE HELP. Vonda arrived right on the dot with her stuff including Kentucky Fried Chicken and KFC coleslaw. We got everything packed in the car and away we went. When we got to the point where we turned off McDowell Road onto the Beeline I could hardly contain myself with excitement knowing that soon I would be out of the hellish heat of Phoenix and into the cool wafts of a mountain breeze and be able to see the gorgeous greenery of pine forests. The trip was lovely, stopping only once to get gas in Payson. At the end we turned down the designated Forest Road and there we found Kenny's and Karen's red expedition waiting for us along with other vehicles. So many of our family were there. Lots of hugs and kisses and as time wore on others arrived and soon we were quite a bunch: brother Tommy Grove and wife, MaryAnn, two of my nieces, Karen Woodhouse and Kelleigh Baker; a great niece, Molly Woodhouse and her boyfriend, Ryan Gard, stationed at Luke Air Force Base as a dentist; grandson, Jeremy Grove and wife, Annie with two of my great grandsons, Mattox and Cole. My granddaughter, Rachel Serrano and husband Hector with my great grandson, Elandro and my great granddaughter, Aliyana. Then my grandson, Andrew Grove, arrived alone as his fiance, Marianne, had to work that day. Lots of visiting and catching up!


Cole's mommy asked him if he would like to go for a walk and he invited me to go too but I declined and he seemed kind of disappointed so I told him to find either a pretty little rock or a bouquet of wild flowers to bring back to me. That seemed to pacify his disappointment and off he and his Mommy went on their jaunt. Elandro had brought his electric car and he and Mattox were having fun with that. Aliyana was keeping too busy for me to see exactly what she was intrigued with. Some of the others decided to take a walk down the Lake Mary Road and see where it led to. Before too long Cole and his Mommy were back and he presented me with a small bouquet of long stemmed mountain flowers in shades of white, yellow, blue and pink. I thanked him profusely. He is a beautiful child and just a few months shy of being 3. His hair is a beautiful peroxide blond color and a mass of tight curls cover the back of his head. He walked with me to the trunk of Vonda's car and we laid the flowers in the car. Of course when I got home the flowers were dead and dried out and I gave serious thought of what to do with them because I knew I was not going to throw them away after that little darling put forth the effort to bring them back to me. So after searching my living room I found the perfect place....a beautiful picture on my wall 18 inches wide and hung by a gold chain The length of the flower stalks and dried blooms was 18 inches. So I slipped them under the chain and laid them along the top of the picture. That place was just made for them and that is exactly where they belong. I will write Cole a note telling him of what I have done with them and the next time he comes to my house he will be able to see them. They, and how I got them, are permanent now in both my house and my memory. I think Cole will be pleased.


We were instructed that everybody would bring their own lunch. That is what everybody did but then it seemed it would be more fun to just throw it on the table we had and share everything with everybody and that is what we did and of course there was more than enough for everyone and leftovers to take home. So after lunch, several decided to take a jaunt down Lake Mary Road to see what they could see. After they came back it was decided to have a ball game for the little boys. There was a nice flat bare spot there where such a game could be played. It was decided that Molly Woodhouse, a recent graduate from law school was a natural for pitcher; Kelleigh Baker, a recent retiree from the Phoenix Police Dept. was a natural as the "catcher", Jeremy Grove would take over 1st base and Ryan, the dentist, would play 2nd base. The batters would be "Mattie" Grove, Elandro, "the Mechanic" Serrano, and last but not least "Curly" Colee Grove. Mattie Grove is comin' up on 5 years old in November and is a slugger first class; got a hit every time at bat and slammed it into the piney woods every time he came to bat. Elandro Serrano is comin' up on 4 in October and is following in his Dad's footsteps as a mechanic but very definitely did not let his team mates down in this slug fest. Curly Colee Grove is comin' up on 3 years old in November. After getting him to face in the right direction and teaching him that first base was where his Daddy was standing he slugged more than a few into the piney woods too! It was a fantastic game and the audience was amply rewarded for all their screamin' and hollerin' and support. So after some cooling refreshment it was time to head down the mountain to the inferno of Phoenix. Ken and Karen planned to spend another night there at the site. So with a lot of kissin' and huggin' and regretful goodbyes the cars one by one pulled out on the Lake Mary Road and headed in the opposite direction with many memories of a great day with family and memories I will keep for the rest of my life of the "little sprouts" on the Grove Family tree who entertained their old Grandpa GG and this includes my beautiful Aliyana who is a homerun in herself with her amazing beauty.


When all is said and done......enough can't be said for family!!!!!!


Great Grandpa Grove (GG)

AN ADDENDUM TO "KEN DO"         

At the time I observed the little boy, "Ken Do", I didn't observe him as an oddity.  In the late '50's and early 60's there were thousands of such children throughout the world as a result of their mothers taking the drug thalidomide to counteract morning sicknesss in their pregnancy.  It was prescribed by their obstreticians.   When it was finally realized that thalidomide was the cause of such deformities and plastered in the newspapers world wide we would just notice the child and say or think, "Oh, there goes another thalidomide baby."  Nothing to be done about it except to feel pity and sadness that a child was impaired for the rest of his life.  But from what I read and understand now, the drug is used in the treatment of leprosy.  If you want to read more just get on Google and search for thalidomide.  Wikipedia (sp) has some good references. 

WHY DO MEN HAVE NIPPLES?

Every month I eagerly await the arrival of my favorite magazine, THE SUN. It is the only magazine I subscribe to and the only magazine I read. The last page of the magazine is titled SUNBEAMS and is compiled of quotations; some of which I enjoy and agree with and some of which I do not enjoy and do not agree with. This month I did not like this quotation but it has become food for thought.

Here is the quotation from a character named EVIL, in the movie TIME BANDITS.

"God isn't interested in technology. He cares nothing for the microchip or the silicon revolution. Look how he spends his time. Forty three species of parrots! Nipples for men!"

That quote ticked me off even if it was from a movie. Who is to question how God spends his time, anyway? I am 83 years old and it never entered my mind to wonder why I have nipples until someone gave me a book titled "Why Do Men Have Nipples?" I think that it was my grandson, Jeremy, but I am not sure about that.

Anyway the book is written by Billy Goldberg. M.D. and Mark Leyner; a writer. They were thrown together as consultants on a medical TV show. Here is what they came up with.

WHY DO MEN HAVE NIPPLES?

Since our editor thought this question made the best title for this book, we racked our brains to come up with a hilarious, witty, and informative answer to the question. Our attempts proved futile, so, in order to finish this book so another brilliant title wouldn't go to waste, we went for the boring, straight scientific response. Sorry. 

We are mammals and blessed with body hair, three middle ear bones, and the ability to nourish our young with milk that females produce in modified sweat glands called mammary glands. Although females have the mammary glands, we all start out in a similar way in the embryo. During the development, the embryo follows a female template until about six weeks, when the male sex chromosome kicks in for a male embryo. The embryo then begins to develop all of its male characteristics. Men are thus left with nipples and also with some breast tissue. Men can even get breast cancer and there are some medical conditions that can cause male breasts to enlarge. Abnormal enlargement of the breasts in a male can be caused by using anabolic steroids. So, if Barry Bonds ends up coming to the old-timers game with a pair of sagging 44DD man boobs, then I think we will finally have our answer to the steroid controversy.

THE END

-----------------------------------------

Okay, so if this does not answer all our questions like: "Couldn't God have erased the nipples after the male embryo took over? Well, of course he could have but I am not going to question God's reasoning. Besides, after 83 years I think my chest would look naked without nipples.

Another aside.....I will never forget a wonderful vice president at APS where I worked for 41 years who died of breast cancer before he had a chance to retire. So it does happen!

KEN DO

KEN DO

Based on a true story

by William B. Grove

     He churned down the side-walk on short, chubby, sun-tanned legs stuffed into red tennies. His red, white and blue knee socks were at half mast. He stopped in front of the woman sitting on the park bench and said, "Mom, come and push me. Come on Mom, push me, huh?

     "No, you can do it. I'm sure you can," the woman replied.

      He turned and ran toward the tire swing, his deformed arms held in front of his chest. In the absence of forearms a sort of flipper extended just below each elbow.

     He fell to his knees in the sand. Supporting his weight on the backs of his flippers, he crawled underneath the tire suspended on its side by the three chains. He rose up through the hole and hooked each flipper at right angles to two of the chains. The tire caught him at the middle of his back and, after repeated attempts, he could not jump high enough or hold tightly enough to boost his red shorts clad bottom onto the tire.

     Beads of perspiration formed on his bow shaped upper lip and he thrust his full lower lip out in a pout. His wide set violet eyes released a trickle of tears that coursed down each rosy cheek. He stood quietly, a picture of frustration, then crouched, placed the backs of the flippers on the sand and crawled from beneath the swing.

     The shrieks, yells, laughter and jabbering of playing children surrounded him as he glanced at the playground equipment. His eyes rested on the monkey bars--but only for a moment. Then he was off pell-mell to a corner of the playground.

     He took his position wordlessly. A young father kicked a black and white soccer ball to his son and daughter. Without a word the man kicked it to the silent child with the crippled arms. The boy, with an expert thrust of his foot, caught it on the toe of his shoe and sent it on an arc shaped course through the sky to the startled girl. The girl retreived the ball and ran holding it out to him yelling, "Do it again."

     He took the ball from her by pressing the backs of both flippers to opposite sides of the ball. He tensed himself on his left foot drawing his right foot behind him. He dropped the ball as his right foot shot forward sending it over the childrens' heads as they screamed with delight.

     "Ken Do, it's time to go," called the woman.

     The father and his children followed the boy to his mother.

     "Hey, you are really handy with those feet. Do they call you 'Champ'?" the man asked,smiling.

     "They call me Ken Do," the child responded softly.

     "His name is Kendall," his mother quickly added, "but we call him Ken Do. He 'ken do' about anything he sets his mind to."

     The said their goodbyes and as he and his mother walked to the car he said. "Let's go by the swing, huh, Mom? I think I 'ken do' it now."

Prior to ever thinking about "Ken Do" much less writing about him, I had decided I wanted to be a writer of children's stories.  I had often seen advertising about The Institute of Children's Literature in Redding Ridge, Connecticut which listed a toll free number.  I called them and asked for information about their Institute.  I promptlly received the information and brochures.  I was required to submit a "test" story to see if I had any writing ability.  I am sure everyone passes!!  I did pass and sent in the required remittance and became a student.

 

My first assignment was to go to a park and observe a child, any child, and write a story about that child.  I was very leery about doing that for fear that I would be thought to be a potential child molester!  Therefore, I never got close enough to him to observe his facial features.  Those, I described from a beautiful framed picture of a little boy hanging in my living room.  I observed his Mom sitting in the park painting her fingernails.  She refused all of his requests for help to get in the swing, always telling him "you can do it.  Just keep trying." 

 

I totally disliked my instructor.  I guess she DID know what she was doing because I wrote Ken Do under her tutelage and it was my first story to ever be published.  I wrote it in June, 1987 and submitted it to several publishers but it was rejected by each one.  It is the practice to never tell you why it is rejected because they do not not want to take the time to do that unless they plan to publish it once the changes are made.  It was finally accepted for publishing in the Fall 1992 issue of JOYFUL CHILD JOURNAL.  The magazine's statement of purpose is: "Joyful Child Journal is a quarterly publication to guide parents and professionals who serve children in nurturing the fullest development of the child's potential.  It provides information needed in these times of change.  Through educational and inspirational articles, plus stories for the child, it promotes self esteem, values and universal principles, thus reawakening that which is inherent and natural within each of us-----JOY!"

 

 

You must realize that the period from 1987, when I wrote it until 1992 when it was published was not a period of waiting.  It was a period of re-submitting the story to many and various publishers and receiving a rejection slip from each one.  You must also realize that even when it was published and I held the magazine in my hand with my story in it I got no monetary reward!  But money could not buy nor pay for the sense of pride and accomplishment I felt in finally achieving my goal of being a "published author".

 

WHAT MAKES MY WORLD TURN

Pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream;

The fact that I never have a bad dream;

Roses in bloom in the early Spring;

The joy of an awaited telephone ring;

Seeing a cable car traverse Nob Hill;

Eating homemade ice cream 'till I get my fill;

When the laundry gets the right amount of starch in my shirts;

My refusal to ever give up desserts;

Hearing Jessye Norman's beautiful voice;

31 Flavors Ice Cream.....So hard to make a choice!

Coffee and toast slathered with marmalade;

The return of my cat who had recently strayed;

My best friend's voice when he calls on the phone;

Sucking the meat off a chicken's wishbone;

Beholding the rainbow after the new fallen rain;

After the holidays and my scales show no gain!

Finding some money when I thought I had none;

The sense of relief when a hard task is done;

An early morning walk on a deserted beach;

The soul stirring sound of a peacock's screech.

To remember the Prune Whip my wife used to make;

And salivate over Dear Abby's Coconut Cake;

A frozen Snicker Bar on a hot summer day;

Or a drive in the country smelling new mown hay.

Yes, these things make my world turn and turn me on too.

Do they, by any chance, have the same effect on you?

The serenity I feel on a high mountain top

Though I know if I slip I'll surely go PLOP!

Looking for sand dollars on a fog shrouded shore

And never being satisfied ...always looking for more.

A "can't lay it down" book keeping me up until three

Along with chocolate mint cookies and peppermint tea.

I don't feel neglected, left out or rejected

And from this world I "ain't" disconected

Because all the foregoing things are surely enough

To keep me from shouting,

"STOP THE WORLD, I WANT TO GET OFF!"

by William B. Grove

Susan G. Komen 3-Day 60 mile walk

The 3 Day Susan G. Komen 60 mile walk to eradicate breast cancer will begin here in the valley on Nov. 11. Our family's participation in "the walk" began in 2005 when two of my granddaughters, Cory and Jessamyn (who are sisters) walked in support and recognition of their "grandma Juanita Grove". They were both successful in completing the walk. That particular walk ended at "Rawhide". Then our son and daughter, Ken Grove and Kim Turgesen completed the walk in 2006, 2007 and 2008. My granddaughter, Rachel Serrano joined her Dad and Auntie Kim in the 2008 walk. In 2009 my son, Kenny, again walked and was joined by his cousin Kelleigh and her daughter, Sara. My granddaughter, Cassie and several of her friends from New Mexico participated in the walk in 2010 along with Kelleigh and Sara and Jill. It is my understanding that Jill is walking again in 20ll along with Cassie and her friends. There are lots of signs and banners and decorations along the route, teams carry banners of who they are supporting, i.e, 'JUANITA'S KIDS" and "GRANDMA'S JUGGERNAUTS".


You see things in the walk that reduce you to tears. Women in wheel chairs are being pushed by friends, family members or their husbands. You see things that make you so proud. One year we were resting on an expansive lawn at the end of the walk waiting for the final program to start and I noticed right ahead of me on the grass was a young woman with her back to me and no shirt of any kind. Her back was bare and no bra straps. Pretty soon she stood up and turned around and momentarily was facing me;a beautiful young woman and both of her breasts were gone and her whole chest was covered in a beautiful tattoo of gorgeous flowers. My eyes teared up and I was so proud of her although I did not know her at all.


Each person that participates in the walk must pay an entry fee. It goes up each year and this year each person must pay and entry fee of $2300. It all goes toward breast cancer research. That money is raised by each entrant asking for donations from their friends and family. If you don't come up with the entire amount you don't get to walk. They start out early every morning after staying all night in tents in a park where breakfast is served. Then they walk 10 miles and back 10 miles to the campground and have supper and fellowship and to bed and then the next day the route is changed and they go further than 20 miles to make up for a shorter walk on Sunday. On Sunday they don't come back to the campground because trucks bring every body's gear to the end of the route where each person picks it up after the big ceremony. So the first day is 20 miles; the second day is more than 20 miles to make up for the shortened day on Sunday because of the ceremony but all in all by changing routes and starting times they get in 60 miles of walking in 3 days. It is a huge crowd walking and they raise lots of $$$$ for a good cause.

Now that I have covered Juanita's fight with breast cancer and her subsequent death from that and the effects of radiation, I want to move on to the following Fall of 1997:

It is a windy day with the wind moaning and whistling around the corners of the house. I opened the front door and stood there looking through the screen door at the leaves swirling in flight...kind of depressing, but yet it moved me to sit down at the dining table and write this poem:

BUFFETED

The wind blew the leaves

Into wild disarray

And gave a sense of confusion

To the newborn morning.

And I, in my instability

From the forces of life,

Felt a kinship with the leaves' displacement.


by William B. Grove
March 1997

 So here we are, Juanita and I, in our darkened room at the Seawall Motel in Pismo Beach, California after a day of playing on the beach; in and out of the ocean; traipsing up and down the streets of this former Portuguese fishing village of many years ago. This place is our favorite haunt of many, many years. Out of the darkness I heard my name being called by Juanita, "Billy". I responded and she said, "I just discovered a lump in my left breast. Give me your hand and see if you feel it." She took my hand and placed it in the suspected spot. Yes, there was something there that could be described as a lump. I asked her if there was any soreness or pain there when I put pressure on the spot with my finger and she replied, "Yes". I asked her if she wanted to see a doctor there or go home tomorrow and see our family doctor in Phoenix and let him recommend a specialist if he deemed that a necessity. She said, "No, we are near the end of our two week vacation so let's just stay those days and then go home." So that is what we did although it rather put a damper on those remaining few days. Any question of breast cancer was dramatically important to us because Juanita's mom, Pearl; and Juanita's sister, Radyne, and their aunt Lily had all died of breast cancer. So it was really leering as and unveiled threat in the darkness of fear A few days later for the first time in my life I was glad to leave the balmy air and the beauty of that placid beach for the searing and burning hell of our Phoenix summer!

Back home our family doctor recommended a specialist by the name of Dr. Adrian. After all the necessary tests were conducted the surgery was performed. The malignant enemy was difficult to find but was finally excised from near the nipple where it was hiding. Kim and Bryan and their two little girls, Jamie and Cassie came from Sacramento, CA to see Juanita while she was hospitalized. And if my memory doesn't fail me our grandson, Jeremy, was born while Juanita was hospitalized. This all had to be in April, 1977. After all straightened out somewhat and we were home alone and I returned back to work, I would get up at 5AM each morning and get in the shower and turn the water on full force to drown out my fearful crying. I didn't want Juanita to know how scared I was. Juanita was a real trooper with her left chest covered in a huge bandage,.I forgot to mention that most if not all the lymph nodes in the left armpit had to be removed since the cancer had metastasized to most of the lymph nodes there.

Then, of course she had to be assigned to an oncologist and a radiation therapist. The oncologist was a wonderful little man who explained whatever he knew about chemotherapy. He was a little Jewish man named Paul Wassermann and from the beginning I think there was a love affair between him and us. Juanita's first and only experience with taking the chemo pills resulted with her head in the toilet for 5 hours vomiting from 7AM until noon. She said, "no more, I'll take my chances with the cancer!" Dr. Wassermann said to us, "Well, there is no cure for cancer and the only thing we know about this medication you are taking is that at one time it cured ONE case of cancer in Italy." I told him that he gave us such a feeling of well being that we wanted to continue seeing him on a regular basis because just having him talk to us gave us such a feeling of well-being.......and that continued for quite some time.

Then the next out of this world was our relationship with the Linear Accelerator. This was the monster situated in the basement of the medical building where we went. I am sorry to say that I felt like we were in the laboratory where Frankenstein was created. The radiologist, while being a wonderful man had the whole one side of his neck missing because of throat cancer and radical surgery. And the people who came into the waiting room to wait for their treatment were more than scary; some so scary that I had to turn my head away and not look at them. What people will go through to continue living. I guess continued life is priceless, regardless.

About this time Juanita had a sister-in-law who was determined to get her on some remedies quite a far piece from practiced medicine i.e. apricot kernels. It was known as vitamin B-17 and had a name which escapes my memory right now and Juanita ate those. Then the famous coffee enemas. Juanita didn't even drink coffee and now she was absorbing it through her anus. When we told the radiologist he asked "Instant or perked?" Whether all these things helped or not .....who knows.....but Juanita did not die of cancer. She lived for 20 more years dying in 1997 and the doctors felt she died from the effects of the radiation therapy. She developed heart trouble and her heart doctor told me that she was a classic example of radiation therapy which was administered on her left chest over her heart. I am inclined to agree with him.

As a sidelight to the seriousness of cancer there can be a humorous side too. And if you didn't see that side once in awhile I doubt you could make it through......for instance.......

Juanita bought a prosthesis to wear on her left chest which she promptly christened HER BOOB. One day she called me at work and wanted to know if I had seen her Boob? I said, "My God, do you really think I bring it to work with me?" and she said "No" but I can't find it." I said, "You better find it. I just paid $97 for that thing." A little later my office phone rang and she said, "I noticed a lump under the covers after I made up the bed and there it was." Another time we were swimming in the ocean at Pismo Beach and the Boob floated out of her swim suit on it's way to China and Juanita commanded her little poodle Eddie to go after it and bring it back and the little rascal did just that!!! Then the time our son-in-law, Bryan came over one evening and Juanita was telling him about the garden she put in that day in the back yard and how hard she worked doing it. He went out to look and came back laughing and said, "I guess you really did work hard out there Mom" and he handed her her Boob,telling her "I found this out there in the fork of a tree!" She went on to explain that every time she bent over to hoe the ground her Boob fell out of her blouse and she finally took it out of her blouse and placed it in the fork of the tree and then forgot it.

Well, this is the end of this subject which in reality is the forerunner of writing about the Susan G. Komen 3 Day 60 mile walk for breast cancer which will be coming up in a few months.

It has been 49 years ago that we drove up in front of Irene's home to broach the subject of whether she would let us adopt her beautiful and precious 5 year old little boy, On the drive to her home neither Juanita nor I could come up with a plausible persuasive reason for convincing this woman whom we had never met until her husband's funeral that she should let us adopt her child. So with nothing but love in our hearts we just decided to hit her cold turkey with our request. And that is exactly what we did. And she refused us just as quickly and kindly. But she had an advantage over us. She had expended 5 years of unconditional love on that little boy; something that we could not compete with. Her faith made her believe that somehow someway she would be able to provide for those 9 children in the absence of their Father. She was brief and to the point but kind in understanding our concern for her and her children. But we were not getting Alex at any price or for any reason!


On our trip home Juanita and I decided that we would not see or include Alex in our lives. It would be too painful for us and could drive a wedge between him and his Mom if he realized we could do more for him than his Mom could despite her love for him. So we opted out of seeing Alex.


It was many years before we saw Alex again. I kept in touch with his Uncle Librado Renteria who has been my good and trusted friend ever since Procopio's death. Librado informed me of Irene's death and how her oldest married child, Carmen Abril became the surrogate Mom to the children along with her husband Gene. Gene had his own business and in time owned and operated two shoe repair business plus one repair shop out of his home. He and Carmen built a summer cabin near Heber. From Librado I would occasionally hear, when I inquired of him, that Alex was in jail or that Alex was in prison or that Alex had just been released from prison. Renterias were a large family and it seemed someboy was always dying and I would see Alex at the funeral if he was free to go. Most of the time he was under the influence of alcohol.


He was under the influence of alcohol at the funeral of his Aunt Angie and came up to me at at the gravesite and put his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek and told me that he loved me and said....."Bill, I think my life would have been so much different if my Mom would have allowed you and Juanita to adopt me." I told him that I had never stopped loving him either and that his life could change for the better if he could ever have the power to stay away from the liquor and hold a job." He was a handsome man, swarthy and dashing with his pencil line moustache and Mexican coloring. That was really the last visit I had with him. His obituary told me that he had had two wives; one deceased; was survived by two brothers, Eddie and Jimmy; daughters: Illoni Lewis; Vanessa Renteria; 6 beloved grandchildren and sisters; Carmen Abril, Betty Martinez, Yolanda Valenzuela, Paulina Araiza and brothers, Frank and Librado (Not the Librado I know who is his uncle). The obit further said that his son, Mark, had pre-deceased him. When I inquired at the cemetery of his Aunt Sally what had happened to Mark, she said that he had been shot to death in a gang like killing when he was in his late teens. She said that it had never been clarified whether Mark had been a gang member or whether he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.


At Alex's funeral when I walked up to his open casket I was shocked. I saw no resemblance to the Alex I had known and loved. But there were so many there who knew him as their beloved Alex and who had loved him. So I felt better....... for apparently they had been with him as he slipped into death and he looked like Alex to them. But missing for me was that beautiful little boy who might have been my son if fate had willed it.


The Catholic Church was huge and cavernous and since I am hard of hearing anyway I could not discern the words of the sermon as they were lost to me in the hugeness of the church. But the one thing I enjoyed was the man who looked like he could not weigh one ounce less than 300 pounds and sang with the tenor voice of an Angel....absolutely beautiful.


His service was attended by many and it was obvious to me that he was loved by many.


I went to the cemetery and stayed until he was committed to the earth

I had stated that there was an interesting story concerning the life of Alex Renteria whose funeral I attended this morning,.

When his father, Procopio Renteria was murdered 49 years ago I met little Alex who was 5 years old. I met him at the Wake for his father. The wake was held in the home of Procopio's mom. Procopio was the father of 9 children and they were all at the wake. Everyone was decorating the house for the arrival of the body. The home was festooned with crepe flower bouquets of all colors plus streamers of colored crepe paper were draped everywhere. This was all being done by the women in the family. All were laughing and carrying on doing the decorating as if it was a party. All at once the hearse drove up in the front of the house and like magic there was deathly silence. Everyone in the house was transfixed looking out the window at the hearse. The mortuary attendants brought the casket in through the front door head first, As soon as the head of the casket entered the door there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Several of those mourning women were extremely overweight and they promptly passed out in the doorways so that the attendants could not get through. Other women came with smelling salts and it fell the lot of me and several other men and women to start applying and rubbing the stimulant on the women's chests and under their noses. Soon they would recover and we would get them on their feet and they would pass out again.....It reminded me of the paid mourners it describes so well in one of the books of the Bible. Finally some control was gained and the casket was propped open for the viewing. Procopio had been shot in the mouth so consequently there was a terrific wax build up in that area. With 9 children who were almost out of their minds with grief all hovering over their Dad's body in the casket and kissing him on the lips it was not long before I noticed that his wax upper lip was now lying on his chin. The mortuary attendants were gone by then and the body was to remain in the living room all night because Procopio's old drinking buddies were supposed to come roaring in from Bakersfield, CA at midnight.....which they did right on time. Things finally began to start quieting down and after so much explaining to the children they stopped kissing their Dad and hovering over his body. Most of the Bakersfield bunch were drunk but all the women had prepared gallons of coffee and made dozens of hot cross buns. All the food and coffee had a sobering effect on everyone. About 2AM Juanita and I decided to leave for home. On our trip home we constantly talked about the beautiful little 5 year old boy named Alex Renteria. He was physically gorgeous and how was Irene, their Mom, going to support them. You talk about poor.....they were poor with a capital "P".

The next day we gathered at Procopio's mothers's home for a lunch before going to the cemetery. Even then we were stunned by the sadness. Procopio's 19 year old son was there in shackles and guarded by two Arizona State Prison guards. The young man was having extreme difficulty eating lunch and finally one hand was unshackled so that it was less difficult for him. His wife and infant child were there but she was not speaking to him because his imprisonment had something to do with another young woman.

Finally we left for the cemetery where Procopio's body was comitted to the earth amid a loud display of histrionics.

But what of Alex? Our hearts bled for that beautiful little boy. Juanita and I could not stop thinking and talking of him. But what to do? We just decided to take the bull by the horns and make an appointment with Irene and broach the subject of our adopting Alex.

Now I'll l'll stop for now and let Kim send this out for me and do the rest of the story in the next e-mail.

Brittni, I forgot to mention in the previous Gazette about your unhappy time with Clay Boy. That can be pretty devastating when you try everything and nothing works. Finally, you somehow hit on the stuffed puppy.....and voila! it worked. I hope it is still working. We went through something like that with Kenny. He never shut his mouth for the first year! We nearly went insane! Juanita's milk did not agree with him and we tried all diffferent formulas until finally we tried Similac which stayed down. He was born on Oct. 5 and on his first Christmas morning he and I were sitting under the Christmas tree and both of us were crying! Juanita had had him until midnight and then I had him from midnight until 6AM an he never shut his mouth for either of us. Kim was so different...but we were still up all night checking to see if she had died of SIDS, she was so quiet. I hope the puppy is still working for you. Did you get that idea from the Baby Whisperer Book you mentioned in your blog?

I had a really nice phone call on Saturday night from Opal and Talmadge Crosser in Payson who are hosting the Stevenson School reunion. They loved my letter I wrote them about my life since 1935 when I attended Stevenson School. They did a lot of arm twisting but I still declined. I don't think it would be worth my time or $$$$ as I am sure I would not know many there. So I declined as gracefully as I could.

Well, when those geeks in Congress finally make up their mind to do something they get it done. I accessed my checking account at the bank very early this morning and lo and behold my SS check had been deposited! It made my day and I am sure it did so for all the rest of the old fossils like me who were hoping, hoping, hoping!!!

Yesterday I had a call from my friend Librado Renteria telling me that his nephew, Alex Renteria, had died of cancer at age 54. I met Alex when he was 5 years old at the wake of his Father, Procopio Renteria, who had been murdered. The visitation for Alex will be in the morning at 8AM and the funeral immediately afterward at the same location, St. Catherine's Catholic Church. After the funeral we will proceed to St. Francis Cemetery which is only a few blocks from my house. I will not go to the visitation as St. Catherine's is a long distance from me and I would be driving in all the morning traffic of all of those going to work. But I will be there for the funeral at 10AM and then there will be the procession to the cemetery escorted by motorcycle policemen and after the burial I will be only a few blocks from my home. There is an interesting story about Alex but at this point in time I am hungry and tired and will leave the story of Alex until after the funeral tomorrow.

The Help

I saw an announcement on TV today saying that the movie THE HELP will be in theaters August 10th if I am remembering the date correctly.  I am reading the book now and I love it.  So that is a movie I definitely want to see.  It has been on the best seller list for books for months.