SPECIAL THOUGHTS AND THANKS FOR....

In the depths of my many muddled memories there emerges those bright colorful sprites of blooms telling me that tho events have past the reality lives on, if no where but in my muddled memory. So to those I offer....

I have been most fortunate in having beautiful and thoughtful friends. Each has contributed in some way to the sanity of my life, to its sometime sorrow. But for all of it to the memories that walk the paths to that uncertain finality with me.

I had only a passing meeting with death and truly had no significant feeling one way or another. That is until the summer of my seventh grade. As I have told the bit of me leaving the Convent for public school. Well remember in leaving we must either fully embrace our going with finality leave ills behind, and with little thought proceed down the road. Well I could not fully do this, I had a friend I grew up with. As small boys he and I would crawl upon his mothers lap and be read to, and more often than not sleep the sleep of security. He was to graduate to high school, and even with his Jewish background he had stayed at the Convent completing all eight years there. Graduation day found him in deep pain. Stomach cramps, fever, throwing up and a gambit of other problems. He refused to give in and did go to the graduation, where he immediately collapsed . Rushed to Sun Valley hospital where Dr. Lehmann determined that his appendix had burst and that he needed to be operated on as quickly as possible. After locating the two principles that would contribute greatly to his recovery, and the operation took place. (Col. Drummond was the blood supply that was sorely needed for my pal) It was the first few days of this episode that was my close brush with finding out about death. For the next six weeks Dr. Franklin and Col. Drummand were pretty much fixtures at the hospital until the last day when someone thought to bring cup cakes for all. My friend would join the NM National Guard and attain some rank. This was prior to the Korean War. And though he wanted to go into the regular Army, it was not to be. I of course lost touch as I moved away, but we were close friends through the long days of high school, though Leo Funk was not a part of the rowdy group he was a good "guy", always with me in spirit. Leo passed away quietly about 1978 .

The huge front room with a curved front wall and glass brick windows became close to a second home to many of us. We were able to listen to the best music on vinyl records (remember those), and an added bonus we were allowed to call KGGM in Albuquerque on Friday or Saturday evenings. Calling in to the Request Line at the radio station was a ritual we all cherished. At the time Nat 'King' Cole (Night Lights, LOVE, Serenade), Buddy Clark and Doris Day (Linda, Cecilia, Peg'O' My Heart), Vaughn Monroe (Ballerina) , Artie Shaw (Begin the Beguine) and this is just a start. It is our contention that all good music originated in our time.But what good is music if you can't enjoy it, harmonize with, dance to, etc. Well that was not a problem in the big house. But as with any type of exercise (dance an exercise?) there must be nourishment as well, and that also was attended to. The Double Dutch Brownies and Fudge were elixir of the Gods. There was always enough to satisfy the hungry gang that would show up for a feeding and listing to good music. And as often happened the 'gang' would trek out a couple of blocks to the cemetery where songs would ring out in mournful make believe tributes to the dear departed, and truly no disrespect was ever intended. The parting time at Cecilia's would often be dependent on the amount of leftovers. (I offer to you the Fail Safe Recipe for Fudge used in the very kitchens of my youth, (my home, Cecilia's, Carolyn Walters, Mrs. Fitch), and on into many others.

I am not to sure about the timing of this next exploration of events so I will just do as the Brit's say "Give it a go, ole chop'. Never understood the 'chop' part, I digress.

Wayne Black had been discharged from the Navy, he had enlisted when he was 16 so the minute the war was over he was eligible to get out. I believe it was about 1947, as I remember, Wayne had a job at the Texaco Station and also drove a truck when needed ( The Hefner Brothers had Wayne haul logs on the weekends) and he had just bought a new Ford 2 door coupe (dark blue). He came to see me on Christmas morning after Mass. And we ended up going to Albuquerque. There was Guy McDonald, Wayne, and I out for a Christmas drive. It was the thing that Wayne felt he must do, that was to give me a break of sorts as I had been taking care of Nanna by myself and he thought a day away would be nice. So off we went and ended up having a great dinner in Albuquerque Old Town.

Wayne being and looking a little older than the rest of us lead to an indulgence that would not have been possible otherwise. That indulgence, the brew of the upper crust, Bud the beer far ahead of Coor's. The capability of obtaining beer put a different complexion on things. Tho we never had the stuff around any of the girls it was available when the steak or fish hit the coals. As time passed and I began to have a pretty good business of taking care of a couple of farm areas (water master on a couple of pea farms) I began to indulge a bit on my own and take a beer or two with me to work. I finished that summer overseeing the block plant (located cross from the Baptist Church). It came to me to provide afternoon beer for the two operators that actually did all of the work at the plant. I can't recall the name of the man that owned the plant ( I want to say Davis but not sure) and the two men were ex-cons and couldn't go in a bar. So I would go to the Bucket Of Blood (Damian Padilla's) and fetch 3 tins of beer. The tins were not quite a gallon and were stainless steel milk pails with lids. Ideal for the 2 block hike. And so the factory produced excellent bricks, the three of us had beer every day and payday was Friday.