Too Much Basketball

   Too much basketball to blog tonight. Just want you both to know that I'm alive and well.

Takk for alt,

Al

Laos again...

      Blogging about Laos surfaced another memory about that trip. Travel to Luang Prabang, Laos was by air. Departure was by bus. The guidebook recommended purchasing a bus ticket on the VIP bus. That sounded good but I don't know what the travel writer was smoking. Only in one's imagination was there a VIP bus on that route, which I took to Vientienne. 

    A tuk-tuk delivered me from the guesthouse to the bus depot. A ticket on the only bus secured I clambered aboard. The bus looked ancient and air conditioning was via open windows. Away we went with nary an empty seat. Careening abound the turns on the mountain road we motored south to the capital city.

    Perhaps forty five minutes into the trip the bus sputtered to a stop, clearly not planned. The bus's engine was below the floor between the driver and the front door, an area piled high with luggage. Out went the luggage and off came the cover over the engine. The driver and another crew member went to work on the engine with much pounding and pulling. Eventually it restarted, baggage reloaded and it ran until we reached our destination.

   An hour and a half later the bus pulled to the side of the road while the engine was clearly running. All the passengers disembarked, me included, to use the toilet facilities, which was the road ditch. Necessities met off we went again.

  The road was good and at wide clearings beside the road villages clustered. They were there to avoid the unexploded ordinance that infects Laos. In America's seven year undeclared war on Laos more bombs were dropped than on Germany in WW II.  Laos is about the size of Minnesota.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Another bus story; While riding in bus in Thailand, seated by an open window, I heard a rooster crow so near I though we must have almost run over it. A hundred yards later it crowed again. Looking behind me I saw a rooster tied to a bus seat. 

Sunset over the Mekong, picture taken from the guesthouse steps where I had the bad fall. On the opposite shore is Nakhon Phanom, Thailand where I went to find an internet. Nakhon in Thai means 'city'.  

Laos Adventure #2, 2008

      In 2008 I went to Thailand planning to teach for the first time. With some days before teaching was scheduled to start I decided to complete the Laos trip mentioned in yesterday's blog. Starting in Vientienne I took the bus south following the Mekong River. At Takhek I left bus intending to spend a couple of days. That's where my previous Laos trip had ended.

    One of the features of the area around Takhek are the karst mountains. "Karst geology refers to landscapes formed by the dissolution of soluble rocks, primarily limestone and dolomite, resulting in features like sinkholes, caves, and underground drainage systems." Internet.  So off I went to visit the local caves transported by a driver in his Tuk-Tuk, so called because that's the sound they make. Entering a cave necessitated wading in a small stream that was flowing out of it. Slipping on the wet rocks and falling I received  a nasty gash on my leg.

    The tuk-tuk driver took me to the local hospital where my leg was sutured. Was there anesthetic? If there was it wasn't effective. So I counted the stitches wishing that at least I had a bullet to bite on. Given a prescription of antibiotics I was sent back to the guesthouse.

   When I awakened the next morning it was clear that the leg was infected. Dilemma...now what?  The guesthouse, with a beautiful view of the Mekong had about six outside steps. As I exited on the top step my foot slipped and I went flying landing on my back on the steps. They were ceramic and the morning dew made them slippery. Now, in addition to and infected leg I had  a six inch gash on my arm and a very sore back. 

   Consultation with L. at home convinced me that I needed to go to Bangkok. A very miserable 24 hour bus ride brought me there. In the emergency room of the Bangkok Nursing Hospital, a world class facility the surgeon who examined me determined I should be admitted. Two days in the hospital with intravenous antibiotic cleared up the infection. Each morning a nurses aide asked me "And how many pee pee and how many poo poo?" Following hospitalization the surgeon changed my dressings every other day for three weeks.

   The total bill for all the medical care including the pharmaceuticals was $2200.00. L. told me to get the medical reports, which were both in Thai and English. She also said get a daily currency exchange rate sheet for the day the bill was paid. Each day banks in Thailand print our a sheet giving the currency exchange rate for that day. This I included with the medical reports and receipts to the insurance company, so they reimbursed me the full amount. 

   Needless to say I didn't teach that year and I never did get to southern Laos past Takhek.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS  In answer to the question about when I'd been in Laos previously, I don't know the year but it was sometime previous to 2008.

Looking out from a cave in Laos.

                           With nurses in the Bangkok hospital.

Memory

    Posting that picture at Vientienne yesterday brought to mind that trip to Laos which ended abruptly. It started with me flying to the former royal capital of Luang Prabang, north of Vientienne. Leaving Luang Prabang by bus I stopped for some days in Vientienne. Again leaving by bus the plan was to follow the Laos side of the Mekong River to the south tip of Laos. 

    Arriving at the city of Takhek got off the bus for short stay. This was before the days of portable laptop internet connection. When I went to the local internet café it was non-operative and they said it wouldn't be fixed for two weeks. They recommended I take the ferry across the river to Nakhon Phanom, Thailand to find an internet. That's what I did with unintended consequences.

   Returning to Laos I was refused reentry because they'd stamped my passport expired. There were only three places to get a visa for Laos, the airport in Luang Prabang, and in Vientienne at the Thai border and at the airport. With an airline ticket from Vientienne I opted to take a bus there. The bus took me to Udon Thani, by the Laos border where we did paperwork for Visa to Laos.

   Another bus took us to the border and dropped us off and we walked across and through customs. Thinking the bus would meet us at the other side I left my bags on it. Only to see it turn around and return to Thailand. There was a European on the bus who spoke Thai who alerted an official who called the bus company and the bus came back with my bags.

  The problem was that I was now legally in Laos. So I walked back across the border to the bus and retrieved my bags. But, now I'm in Thailand and I've already cleared customs in Laos. All of the customs personnel were focused on the road side of the customs house. There was a wide gap between the customs booth and a building. So, looking as nonchalant as possible, I successfully walked the gap to the Laos side and caught a taxi. End of that adventure! 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

Old People!

   OFH has a good library though it's not large enough to hold all the books in the collection. Consequently the volunteer librarians rotate the books from storage to shelf, etc. Being ready to read some history twice I've ventured to the library to see what I could find. What did I find? This is what if found, the library filled with old people. You see the room also doubles as a place to meet. Well, eventually the meetings will conclude and I'll do a search for a history book.

   That's about as exciting as it gets!😄

Takk for alt,

Al

Patuxai, Victory Gate, in Vientienne, Laos. During the  '50s the U.S. gave Laos money for defense as the communist insurgency grew. Building this is what Laos did with the money. There are steps inside so I climbed to the top and had a look. The city of Vientienne, the Mekong River and mountains were all visible. The Mekong is the border with Thailand here and for many miles.

"Patuxai is a war monument in Downtown Vientiane, Laos, built between 1957 and 1968. The Patuxai was dedicated to those who fought in the struggle for independence from France. In romanizing the name from the Laotian language, it is variously transliterated as Patuxai, Patuxay, Patousai and Patusai." Wikipedia

Missed again!

     Here even the snow piles from plowed parking lots have melted. In a phone conversation with friends in Wausau, WI., they said they got nine inches of snow yesterday. That totally missed us. Where did that come from? Did that storm go north or south of us?  It's late enough in the season that some good rains would be preferable to snow and very welcome. It appears that South Dakota is very dry.

    The local paper, the Minneapolis Star Tribune has dropped publishing the commodity markets. It was a part of my routine to daily check commodity prices. It's time to find a different source for those markets. They also quit publishing the stock market results.

Takk for alt,

Al

This was our tour guide in Riga, Latvia. This was my exchange with her. Al, "Do you worry about Russia?" She, "No." Al, "Why not?" She. "Because of NATO."  This was before Russia invaded Ukraine. 
 

Happenstance....

      As luck would have it I chanced on a basketball game for the ages. In the March Madness, Women's Division, Kansas State was matched with Kentucky. For most of the game, which was very clean, the largest lead was five points. There were over 20 lead changes and multiple ties. At the end of regulation, a game played on Kentucky's floor, the score was tied. It struck me that both teams should have been declared winner and allowed to move on in the tournament. But, of course that's too non-competitive, so the game went into overtime. Kansas State won with the final score 80-79. That puts K.S. in the "Sweet Sixteen" for the first time since 2002.

   On the golf front a Norwegian, Victor Hovland, won the Valspar Tournament today. Who knew that Norwegians played golf?, skiing yes, but golf???

   Frode Jespersen would have been 102 today. 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS In answer to a query: the sailors were firing at barrels for gunnery practice. They obviously needed it.

Because there have been many random military pictures here's a change of scene. This statue of Christopher Columbus is in the Dominican Republic. 

Surfeit of BB

     Way too many basketball games piled up in a few days. Minnesota Boys High School Finals, NCAA Women's playoffs not to mention NCAA Men's playoff games. After spending much of the day scrolling between games with a little golf thrown in, what I have I gained. A bit of entertainment at least. 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS One of you asks about the stress of shipboard life. Actually, I didn't find it too stressful. There was a bit of work, some exercise and good food. The Navy eats very well. Also travel was with a good friend. But the best sanity saver of  all...can you guess? Remember, I was a prairie boy...the horizon at sea, always available to cure feelings of claustrophobia. Perhaps then another sea picture is appropriate

.

We saw a lot of this. If you look closely you can see a 55 gallon barrel the sailors were using for gunnery practice with their 44mm anti-aircraft cannons.

                            These were the cannon firing at 55 gallon drums.

Serendipitous!

      The book was sent to L. by mistake with no indication to return it. Because L. had plenty to read it came to me. It's one I'd never have purchased but it turned into a surprisingly good read. Illuminating a bit of history that was news to me satisfices my interest in history.

    During the American Depression, under Roosevelt's New Deal, a number of strategies were employed to put people to productive work. One of those efforts was moving 200 volunteer, farm families from the Great Lakes area to the Matanuska Valley, north of Anchorage, Alaska. Each family would receive 40 acres and subsidies intended to turn the property into a productive farm.

    A Creek, a Hill, & a Forty: The early years of Alaska's Matanuska Colony, seen through a colonists letters home---Margaret Miller's story, by Ray Bonnell  tells the story of  the settlement's beginning. Colonists were chosen mostly from the relief rolls, though the Millers weren't on relief, from the 'cut over' regions of three states. Those three states were Wisconsin, from which the Miller's came, Michigan and Wisconsin.

   Two things make this an exceptionally interesting read both related to Margaret Miller. First, she wrote long, excellent letters describing the experience. Her mother, in Wisconsin, saved them all and they form 95% of the book. Second, no matter the challenge, primitive living conditions, the mud, endless toil and difficulty she maintained a constantly positive attitude. While neighbors groused, complained and bailed out Miller soldiered on with an upbeat attitude. She stands as a testimony to what can be accomplished with hard work and unfailing good cheer.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS In answer to the query about time aboard ship: If memory holds true I think we were shipboard about 2-3 months at time. Cumulative ship time for the trip to, around and back from Asia was perhaps 6 months. So, then another ship picture.

Entering or leaving port via the aircraft carrier a pilot would board the ship to steer into/out of port. The picture shows the pilot leaving the carrier after steering it out of Hong Kong Harbor.

So then....

      With little to report a reversion to some pictures from the Marines.

One of the interesting sights from aboard ship was seaplane landings and take offs. The planes were amphibious with floats and landing gear that folded up the wheels on the outside of the plane. Taking off from the water engines would rev and as the plane gained speed it would sometimes hit a big wave. There was loud 'wump' as water splashed over the plane. It would lose some speed and rev up to finally get enough speed for lift off. It was flying boat because the fuselage floated in the water.

Takk for alt,

Al

They one's seen were similar to this. See how the running gear folds up against the fuselage.

More Reading

      The book is called "fictions". That's becasue it is a book of fictitious short stories. On my reading table for many days it was one to which I'd turn between books and read one of the stories. Amor Towles, author of A Gentleman In Moscow is a good story teller. In addition to Gentleman I've read The Lincoln Highway and Rules Of Civility by him. Now completing the book of short stories, Table For Two, his fine story telling continues. The six tales in Table are all engaging with the twists and turns of good fiction.

Takk for alt,

Al

This is the book about Alf Larson's experience as Bataan Death March survivor. Copies are available online.

Just think what others miss when I'm alone!

 

Re-read...

    That's past tense in the title, because it's about a book I re-read, past not present. So the book....the late Alf Larson was a member of St. James. That's incidental. He was a fine man but what really set him apart from most others was his experience in WW II. The book is Footprints In Courage: A Bataan Death March Survivor's Story by Kristin Gilpatrick. She interviewed Alf extensively and much of the story is in his own words. A fellow volunteer with Alf at the Minnesota Zoo, Rick Peterson, got him to talk about his experiences for the first time. This proved very therapeutic for Alf, and his family finally learned of his experiences. When I knew him late in life he talked readily about what had happened. 

   With jobs scarce in the depression he enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps. Given some bum advice by other servicemen he volunteered for deployment to The Philippines. Led to believe it was a tropical paradise he found a beastly hot, mosquito infested land. After Japan attacked American troops were ill prepared. Lacking food, supplies and ammunition because of Gen. MacArthur's inept planning the American forces surrendered to Japan. Alf joined what became known as the Bataan Death March. The prisoners were forced to march for eighty miles over six days in the tropical heat. Already starving when they were captured they had virtually no food during the March. The only water was what they could drink from polluted puddles. Prisoners who couldn't keep up were executed by the Japanese guards.

   Alf was moved to different prison camps around the Island. Eventually he was shipped by a "hell ship" to Japan. In Japan he was forced to work in a machine shop as slave labor. Captive from April 9, 1942 until Japan surrendered in 1946, he eventually made it back to his home in Duluth, MN.

  It's not an easy read but important. The book was published in 2002, copies are available online.

Takk for alt,

Al

In the Philippine jungle I'm standing at the base of tree to illustrate it's size. Our alarm clocks were the gibbon monkeys. Tropical heat and humidity with mosquitos bearing malaria and dengue fever for sure. Dengue fever is so painful that in SE Asia it's called 'break bone".  

Curmudgeon re-dux!

     One of the blessings of being a retired adult is the freedom to vote with one's body. These days seldom am I a place where I don't want to be. Let me give a couple of illustrations.

   The first example is men's coffee at the OFH. The convener of this weekly gathering invited me to participate. Accepting this invitation I was anticipating a setting with two to four persons around small tables engaging in conversation. Was I wrong! Rather it was a group of about 12-15 sitting in a circle with a single conversation. After enduring an hour of one person talking about all of the volunteer opportunities at St. Paul Saints baseball game I felt "Excuse me but I'm going to go have a root canal." Exercising my adult franchise I never returned. That decision was reinforced when two friends discussed, in my hearing, John's hour long lecture at coffee hour of mathematics on Pi-Day. 

   Twice a week there is an late afternoon happy hour in the club room of the OFH. In my naiveté I envisioned conversation with a person or two at the room's small tables. Entering the room I found about 20 persons in a large circle. Ever hopeful, but dumb, I seated myself at one of the small tables hoping a person would join me. All conversation stopped as they all focused their attention on me with the intention of insisting that I join the big group. Even I couldn't resist that pressure and as soon as I did the loudest person continued his monologue, actually harangue, until the time was up. Of course I've never gone back. 

   With these two experiences in mind I apprehensively attended a meeting of the twice monthly veteran's group.  Surprise, there were about six persons seated by a round table and actual conversation ensued! Yes, now I attend regularly. There's a wide variety of experiences. Bill's a retired NASA scientist with a PHD from MIT. When he talks about his work on the Apollo Space Program we're all in wrapped attention. Theresa is the other Marine and we discovered her Marine husband had been on the same aircraft carrier that I was. My body votes to attend.

Takk for alt,

Al

These fascinating, small, reconnaissance helicopters with two top rotors were aboard ship. I've been unable to learn anything about them online. Nor, was I able to find one in the Air Force Museum, Dayton, Ohio. 

The Last Straw

      Ben Johnson, the University of Minnesota Basketball coach was fired after three years. Several of his players transferred last year. Reportedly they would make 80K at Minnesota for NIL, (Name Image Likeness) and by transferring that would increase to 800K. Was that Johnson's fault?  An already weak link to men's collegiate basketball for me just severed. The entire question of why universities are the locus of such sports is an open one. For years schools exploited their athletes, but where will this end? And, no, I will not turn to football for entertainment.

Takk for alt,

Al

 

See the group of Marines toward the end of the flight deck?  What do you suppose they are doing? If you guessed exercise.......😀 One of the best uses for the flight deck, in my experience, was for Easter Sunrise Service, 1962. With the chairs facing east the service was held as the sun rose over the East China Sea on a cloudless, windless day. Yes, of course, we sang The Navy Hymn along with Easter songs.  USS Princeton LPH-5

Death and Taxes

    Ben Franklin wrote in a letter "Nothing in this life is certain but death and taxes."  Death is certainly a relaltity at this age but this is about taxes.

   The last document needed to file my taxes arrived this week. That document, from the soybean plant, was about thirty pages. It defies my understanding but fortunately the CPA can decipher it. This morning was dedicated to getting things in order for the preparer and I'll deliver them on Monday. Gradually through the years better organization has quickened the preparation process.  Six weeks of bookkeeping class in high school taught me that accounting was not to be my future. It's a relief to have them ready. 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Two basketball games this afternoon and two more tonight.

My Bad!

    After dinner last night turned the TV to a fascinating girls high school basketball game. It featured two opposing players who among the best in the state. Minnehaha Academy,  Joanne's alma mater, lost to Crosby-Ironton. The Academy's Addie Mack, a senior is one of the state's highest all-time scorers. Tori Oehrlein, C-I, a junior is also among the states all time leading scorers.  By the time the game ended it was bedtime and the blog.....well you know the results.

So, my apologies to both of you.

Takk for alt,

al

Farewell!

      With her retirement pending it was time to bid farewell to my spiritual director. Sr. Joanne has been helping me since 1994. She's 78 so I don't fault her for slowing down. While she's discontinuing spiritual direction she will continue to lead retreats. A factor in my choosing her was her background in parish ministry. As a parish pastor I welcomed her wisdom about congregational dynamics. 

   It had been awhile since I'd seen her so wanted to thank her and say goodbye. She was always extremely helpful and never more so than at the time of Joanne's illness and death. There has been much grief in her personal family so this gave me an opportunity to listen and support also. She has been a huge positive in my life. Because one of you will ask, her order is The School Sisters of Notre Dame.

  Thank you, Sr. Joanne!

Takk for alt,

Al

C-Rations

     The book I'm reading is, in part, about a Marine in Vietnam. There was a list of all the things he carried for a patrol that was to last many days. Among those things listed were six C-Rations, the prepared food Marines ate in the field. What? Those C-Rations must have been different than what we had. Our C-Rations came boxed and those boxes were larger than a Kleenex box. No way would he have been able to carry that in addition to all his other rear.

    Reading about C-Rations brought back the memory of eating them while in the Marines.  According to the internet this is what was in a single C-Ration box. "Canned meat or stew, Canned fruit or cake, Crackers, Canned spread, Instant coffee, Cream substitute, Sugar, Salt, Chewing gum, and Matches."  Back in the day there was one addition in our box; cigarettes! Yes, a pack of 4 cigarettes.  Going back to the internet I learned that cigarettes were removed in 1975. (Point of reference: I was discharged in 1962.)

    Most of the C-Rations were quite good. The canned chicken and turkey cooked over a sterno fire were very tasty. But, beware the ham and lima beans. They were too salty to eat and I never saw a Marine who would eat them. Naturally much trading went on and non-smokers could easily trade their cigarettes. Somewhere in the supply chain that provided the C-Rations there was someone with a sense of humor.  In our boxes were a can of cookies. The name of these cookies? MOTHER'S COOKIES.  While they were good, they weren't mothers. 

Takk for alt,

Al

In Asia Frode flew an A-20, like this one pictured. He liked it very much. Much safer than the B-26, on which he trained. This plane is in the Airforce Museum, Dayton, Ohio. It was an attack bomber with a top speed of over 300mph. It was manufactured by Douglas. 

Frode Jespersen, Part IX

        After Frode finished flight school he received his silver wings and a commission as a Second Lieutenant in the United States Army Air Corps. Next was B-26, Transition training at Dodge City, Kansas. Daily they would make about 4 hour training flights in the B-26, remember it was called The Widow Maker. After two hours the pilot an co-pilot would trade seats and control. Flying in formation Frode was the pilot when the plane to his left said that his left engine was leaking oil. With no oil pressure in that engine it was shut down and the propeller feathered.

    Unable to keep up with the formation Frode was ordered to return to Dodge City flying with one engine. Having lost half his altitude for lack of power he saw an airfield at Garden City, Kansas. This was a training base for single engine trainers. Doubting he could reach Dodge City he decided to land. However. there was no radio contact with the local field only with his airport of origin. Approaching with landing gear down when an AT-6 trainer turned in front of him to land on that runway blocking his landing.

   The common wisdom was that a "go around" could not be done on one engine. With no other choice it was landing gear up and a attempt to "go around".  At the beginning of the turn they were at about 200 or 300 feet. He said it was a good thing that Kansas is flat. As they were turning he found a closer runway and just as the landing gear locked down they touched down. Taxiing to the end of the runway they were surrounded by a procession of cars, trucks, ambulances, etc. With his droll sense of humor he said "I guess we did the best thing by landing at Garden City, although it could have been more enjoyable."    

Takk for alt,

Al

B-26

Frode Jespersen, March 23, 1923-February 20, 2025

     St. James Lutheran Church, Crystal, MN., was the site of Frode's funeral today. Exceptionally large crowd for an 101 year old. His immediate family is small; a son and daughter and one grandchild. He had only one brother who predeceased him by many years. His wife Lillian, September 21, 1923-July 1, 2022, was the youngest of nine.

   Frode and Lillian knew each other in high school. When Frode was separated from the U.S. Air Corps, in Ft. Lewis, WA. 1946, he took the Great Northern Empire Builder to Minot, ND. At the bus depot Lillian, too, was waiting for a bus to Westhope, ND., their hometown. They were married 74 years.

   At the funeral today Lillian's nephew told me a story about them that I hadn't heard. Frode's parents had immigrated from Denmark and Lillian's from Norway. Lillian's Norwegian father was not happy about Lillian dating a Dane! 😀 

  The funeral was at 2:00 pm and St James put it's best foot forward. The service was well done and then the congregation served a full meal. I was honored to be invited to do the homily. Tomorrow I will preside at the graveside service at Ft. Snelling National Cemetery.

   Blest be the memory of Frode Jespersen, good and faithful servant.

Takk for alt,

Al

Frode at 100.

Augustana University Choir

      The Augustana Choir sang and brass quintet played at Central Lutheran Church this afternoon. My musical friends said that they achieved tonal perfection!  Wow! Unsophisticated me thought they sounded good. Their musical selections met my approval. Atonal music is beyond my appreciation, being the musical luddite I am. With no atonal numbers I could appreciate each selection. It even included a world premier. The choir is deliberately small, thirty one members, but highly selective. This was an afternoon well spent.

Takk for alt,

Al

    

O. D.d

      The conference tournaments in women's basketball are on. Consequently I've spent much of the day watching. There was a brief interlude for coffee with friends. Then, too, there were a couple of games in the professional women's league; Unrivalled. Naturally I watched those. In the Big Ten the championship game tomorrow afternoon is between USC and UCLA, who knew they were in the Big Ten?  USC has beaten UCLA twice this year which have been their only losses. Should be quite a showdown.

   Not much else to report other than the mail brought me a book which looks good. Thanks MJV!

Takk for alt,

Al

The Acropolis, Athens, Greece, 2016.

Changed

     At yesterday's visit to the ophthalmologist he said both repaired eyes look great. Gratitude is the appropriate response. The world is brighter now. Also my glasses no longer help for distance, I see well without them. They are still necessary for reading. In a few days I'll go for a vision check. Now totally accustomed to wearing glasses I'll request prescriptions that allow me to wear them all the time. Having reading glasses only when I need them is likely more than I can manage. 

   When Joanne was in high school she was in an accident on a school trip, the car in which she was a passenger hit a snow plow. Hospitalized for a few days her roommate had had cataract surgery. Likely this was in 1954. This roommate was required to lie on her back with sandbags by her head for many days. WOW! The advancement in medical procedures is a cause for great gratitude.

Takk for alt,

Al

The lighthouse at Chanai, Crete, with a cruise ship anchored behind the sea wall, 2023.

Frode Jespersen, Part VIII

     During Frode's military flight training he had opted for multi-engine aircraft thinking that would equip him for flying for airlines after the war. He was sent to Dodge City, Kansas to learn to fly the B-26. After extensive training on this plane by the time he was finished there was a surplus of pilots for that aircraft. He then volunteered to fly a different plane.

  He wrote "We were all thrilled to think that we would soon be flying the A-20. This airplane was an attack bomber. It had two Wright R-2600 engines, each producing 1600 hp. The maximum speed was 317 mph and the cruising speed 230. It had eight 50 caliber machine guns and could carry 2000 lbs. of bombs externally, and 2000 bombs internally. It was a single piloted aircraft and the total crew complement was 3. The two gunners were behind a bulkhead and there was no way they could get to the pilot's compartment. The only communication was by radio and if the pilot became disabled, their only recourse was to bail out. One gunner operated the top turret which contained two 50 caliber machine guns, and the other gunner fired two 50 caliber guns through a bottom hatch."  Frode doesn't say it but there were 4, 50 caliber guns in the nose of the plane controlled by the pilot.

   Frode liked this plane very much. It was much easier to fly and more nimble.  The difficulty of flying the B-26, caused it to be nicknamed "The Widow Maker." Frode wrote it was also called "The Flying Prostitute"..."no visible means of support." He wrote "There was a training base close to Tampa, Florida, from there came a saying, to wit 'A plane a day in Tampa Bay.'"  Flying the smaller, nimble A-20 was very satisfying for Frode.

Takk for alt,

Al

     This is a picture I took of an A-20, for Frode, in the Air Force Museum, Dayton, Ohio. He knew it was there so I sought it out.

Brief

     Successful cataract surgery today on second eye, so this about all I can write.

Takk for alt,

Al

Blank!

   Staring at a blan computer screen this one of those time to keep quiet and thought a fool than write and prove one!

   With that said I want you both to know that I'm OKAY, if a bit vacuous. Perhaps a random photo will suffice for the day.

Takk for alt,

Al

 

  A labor intensive sawmill in the Philippines, 1962. 

Frode Jespersen, Part VII

     A few years ago Frode, and his wife Lillian, left their house in the suburb of New Hope and moved into an OFH in Minnetonka. That home is operated by Ebenezer Society. As Frode and I compared notes it seems we had similar situations.

   Frode, one day, met a new resident who's name is Marilyn. In conversation Frode mentioned that he was originally from North Dakota. That prompted Marilyn to say she grew up in South Dakota. Frode, "I only know one person from South Dakota, Al Negstad." Marilyn, "I know him." 😁

   Out of the Marines and back at Augustana College in the early sixties I was part of a young adult group in First Lutheran, the College and Career Club. Marilyn, a recent Augustana grad was teaching in Sioux Falls and also active in that group. Gene, her husband to be, also was in the group and he was a pastor in central South Dakota. So that's how Marilyn could say "I know him." It's a small world if you're a Lutheran in Minnesota.

Takk for alt,

Al

While we were anchored in Hong Kong Harbor boys would row out to the ship and dive for coins we threw in the water.

My excuse

 

  

There's a Pickleball court in the OFH, and now I have a good excuse for not playing. 😁

Frode Jespersen, Part VI

   There's a veterans group in the OFH which I attend. One of the participants, Terry, told the group about his posting to Johnston Island when he was in the Army. The Island is a tiny atoll some distance from Hawaii. Johnston is a U.S. military base with an airfield and a few barracks. The U.S. Army has long used it as place to store weapons. While Terry was there, during the Vietnam War, the army stored barrels of Agent Orange on the beach. Agent Orange is highly corrosive and consequently the barrels leaked Orange into the sea. Terry regularly scuba dived in the bay by the Island. Today he's on full disability from the effects of  Agent Orange poisoning.

   Hearing Terry talk of Johnston Island rang a bell with me. I thought, "I know someone else who was there."  The Island is a high security facility so the chances of  knowing two who had been there is very coincidental. Who else? Frode told about his experience there.

   After leaving active military service Frode spent a couple of years in his North Dakota hometown giving flying lessons. After that he was hired by the Federal Aviation Agency (FAA), from which he retired after 34 years of service. During his first two years with the FAA he was stationed in Hawaii. While he was there he flew aircraft around Asia inspecting navigational equipment at various airports.

   Returning to Hawaii from an inspection trip to Asia he was piloting a four-motor Lockheed Airplane. (Parenthetically, it was a plane he liked to pilot although there was no auto-pilot. the manufacture thought the pilot should always have hands on the controls.) Realizing that he did not have enough fuel to reach Hawaii he landed at Johnston. The plane was immediately surrounded by security vehicles. No one on the plane was allowed to leave it. The Army refueled the Lockheed and Frode and crew were sent on their way to Hawaii.

   Terry was not at all surprised about the reception Frode received on the Island when I told him this story. 

Takk for alt,

Al

This is Lockheed Constellation like the one Frode was piloting.

Johnston Island

Diamond Anniversary

    She was 15 when it began, now 90, though looks 70, it continues. Thankfully, it was publicly recognized. Yesterday, over lunch with another cousin she recounted the experience. It's been on Facebook, radio and by her report an article by a curmudgeon in the Minnesota Star/Tribune. That article entitled Gophers Sink To The Level Of  A Bad Foe,  author Patrick Ruesse, gave half of the space in the column to her. "She was a sophomore at Murray High School in St Paul when she was moved to buy one season ticket a few rows up at midcourt to watch the gophers." Ruesse

   Louise (Hammer) Quam has had season tickets to the University of Minnesota men's basketball team since 1949, 75 years! She still has the original tickets and she still attends. Louise was honored at center court at a recent game. Among the gifts she received were two stadium seats with the number of  the seat she sits in for games. In her living room she sits in it watch road games. She also received a team jersey numbered 75. The team, referees and press corps shook her hand. When she returned to her seat after the award ceremony the crowd gave her a standing ovation. She's the longest season ticket holder of any University of Minnesota Sport.  Now, a widow who has given up driving, her grandchildren have a spread-sheet tracking who will escort her to home games.

   It's not that she's always lived in the Twin Cities. No she attended St. Olaf College, Northfield, MN., lived in New Haven, CT., Henning and Marshall, MN., Manchester, IA, back to Northfield and now in St. Louis Park, MN. Accolades to the U of MN to go all out honoring her.

Takk for alt,

Al

Frode Jespersen, Part V

    Frode's memory was always good, both short and long term. Living to over 100 there was a lot to remember. Here's an example. His parents immigrated from Denmark to a farm northwest of Westhope, N.D. That places the farm a mile and half from the Canadian border. As boy during prohibition he recalled accompanying his father on a special mission. Riding with his day in the car they drove cross country through the fields to the Canadian border. At the border they met Canadians who sold his dad beer. Thus, evading the strictures of prohibition. 

    Always quick with a quip Frode also would tell jokes. There was an elderly couple in an unhappy marriage. They were always fussing at each other for one thing or another. Finally the wife had had enough so she had an idea. She said to her husband, "Let's pray the Lord take one of to heaven, and I'll go live with my sister."

Takk for alt,

Al

Cooking lessons on Crete, Greece, 2023.

Frode Jespersen, Part IV

     The winter of 1948-49 was particularly snowy in the upper Midwest. With a lengthy driveway that wound through the grove of trees of the farmstead it became impossible to get our car to the house. Consequently, it was parked by the highway, which as U.S. Highway 81, was always kept open. Walking the mile to school we were able to step over the telephone wires on the huge drifts of snow. The National Guard was utilized to plow out the township roads.

   Somehow this winter situation came up in conversation with Frode. By then he was out of the Air Corps and back in his hometown of Westhope, ND. Westhope is on U.S. Highway 83, about four miles from the Canadian border, Manitoba being the closest province. Frode was giving flying lessons out of the local airport.

  One day the local Westhope postmaster approached Frode relating the difficulty of delivering mail becasue the local roads were blocked with snow. Frode had his Piper Cub equipped with skis. So he took the postmaster up in his plane. Flying over the isolated farms the postmaster would drop the securely packaged mail to the families below. How many knew that Frode once flew airmail? 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

A ferry in Hong Kong Harbor, with family occupied junks in the foreground.  1962

Very Naïve!

    Being around books as much as I am I should have been aware. Published as long ago as 1988, and made into a movie, still I didn't know. When M. lent me a book by Kazuo Ishiguro, lamely I assumed it would be about Japan. Duhh! Nobel Literature Prize winner Ishiguro moved from Japan to England when we was five and writes in English about England.

   Remains of the Day, is tutorial on what makes a good butler. That is the means Ishiguro uses to reflect on life choices and cultural and societal changes. Set in 1956, Stevens, the butler, reflects on his life and decisions, particularly events in the 1930s. Melancholy about much of the past, he decides to make the best of the future, The Remains of the Day.  It's remarkably engaging for a book in which almost nothing happens. Of course, things have happened in the past on which Stevens reflects at length.

   So, I'm happy to have finally read it!

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Future blog posts will contain more stories about Frode Jespersen.

Frode Jespersen, Part III

     When a person ages, as Frode did, gradually peers die. As he moved through his 90s there were fewer people with whom to visit on the phone. At some point we began talking every week, a practice that continued until he entered hospice. Past golf episodes were recalled and he related stories from his life. One of those stories was about hunting for war criminals, which he also recounts in his memoir. 

   With insufficient time overseas to be sent home after the war ended he was to Tachikawa Army Air Base, Japan. There wasn't much for him to do there so he was assigned to maintenance. Then a request  came from Headquarters of the 5th Air Force, for a plane and crew to undertake a war crimes investigation trip through Asia. Mentioning to his superior that he'd like to go the boss said he'd get him on as co-pilot if he'd bring back silk from Shanghai. The crew consisted of the pilot, co-pilot, navigator and engineer. Also aboard a Marine Colonel, a Navy Prosecutor, a French Prosecutor, 2 or 3 civilians and several Chinese officials.

  He writes "On April 21, 1946 we departed Tachikawa with out first stop Seoul Korea for refueling, then on to Shanghai,...Hong Kong, Saigon, Singapore, Batavia, Canton, Kwailin, Heng Yang, Hankow and Peiping."  At each stop they'd stay a few days for the officials to document atrocities and they were wined and dined. Again he writes "I was introduced several times to 12-course dinners, while starving people roamed the streets with tin cups requesting food. It was disconcerting...." He said the worst conditions were in Heng Yang. 

   He writes again, "On a lighter note, when we arrived in Batavia, (now Jakarta) we were informed that we would be there for a few days....So we borrowed a Jeep from the Dutch Army, loaded it on the C-47, and proceeded to Bali....We spent a day or two in Bali, were wined and dined by local officials....returned to Batavia....and were ready to continue our trip."  This was an unauthorized trip.

   When I mentioned to Frode that on my recent Asia trip I'd been in Saigon it brought back his memories of the aforementioned travel. He said "In 1946 I ate at sidewalk café in Saigon."  Too bad he didn't have pictures.

Takk for alt,

Al

   

    

Notre Dame Cathedral, the Basilica  of Saigon. One of my memories of visiting were all the beggars on the steps.

Frode Jespersen, Part II

     During World War II, Frode was a bomber pilot in Asia. After retirement he wrote a sixteen page document about his flight training and flying experiences. Originally from Westhope, ND, which was about thirty miles from where I lived in Mohall, he returned there after the war. He supported himself giving flying lessons, for which he received $2.00 an hour. From there he joined Federal Aviation Administration, where he worked until he retired in1987. He served the United States for 34 years.

   In his story about his military flying experiences he wrote "The first aircraft I checked out in was the PT-17, an open cockpit biplane. The last aircraft I became qualified in was the Boeing 747 jumbo jet. I remained in the Reserves until about 1956 during which time I flew F-80 fighter jets and the C-119 cargo carrier. During my time in the military, I flew about 11 different airplanes. In civilian life I became qualified in 6 more, plus several small civilian planes."

   To my question "What was it like to fly a 747?" he replied "It was like sitting on your porch and flying your house." 

   He concluded his report "I met a lot of people and made a lot of friends during my time on active duty. Even though it was an invaluable experience, I don't think I would want to go through it all again. Most of the time it was a grind. The training was hard, sometimes the flying part was frightening, sometimes the living conditions were substandard. But one thing, it was never boring." 

  So fortunate to have known him!

Takk for alt,

Al

Frode and I, with members of St. James Lutheran, when they celebrated his 100th birthday.

Frode Jespersen, March 23, 1923-February 20, 2025

      It all started in 1989. Richard, Dick, Olson was newly retired. Frode had been retired for awhile as had Don Davies. Frode's son is married to Don's daughter. and we formed a golf foursome. In the first years we  played a number of courses deciding each week where we'd go the next. Living in the NW part of the Twin Cities most of the courses we played were in that direction. It was high stakes golf, the weekly prize was free lunch at McDonalds. Frode keep our scores on his computer so he arrived to each outing with our fresh handicaps. Even though he was the oldest Frode typically had the lowest handicap. Thursday was golf day becasue senior rates applied. Many were the days we had to wait for the spring frost to melt from the greens before we could tee off. Many were the days that we had to search for balls under autumn leaves. Yes, we took playing golf seriously.

    After about ten years Don's age caught up with him and he dropped out. Frode knew Elon Nash, a retired physician, and recruited him to replace Don. It was during El's tenure that we shifted playing to Lakeview, west of Lake Minnetonka, thus its name. It was well suited for aging golfers. It was a bit shorter than many courses, had no sand and little water. El played with us for about ten years until he needed to withdraw to care for his wife.

   Needing a fourth I recruited my high school classmate, Lloyd Hope. Eventually Lakeview closed. We shifted our playing to Shamrock which had the same attributes for older golfers as Lakeview. There we played until 2017.Our group disbanded. Dick, in his 90s decided he was too old. Frode needed to take care of his wife who was suffering memory loss. Lloyd moved to South Dakota. Without the partners with whom I played, I lost interest in golf, so, I too quit.  While I didn't miss golf I certainly missed our group.

   Both Dick and Lloyd died a few years ago. Frode and I stayed in touch with weekly phone calls. He was a remarkable man who drove to church a few weeks ago. In subsequent blog postings I'll write more about Frode.

Talk for alt,

Al

Frode and I at St. James Lutheran the day they celebrated his 100th birthday.

Priorities!

     After talking to P.L. for almost an hour it was time to post a blog but that plan Unrivaled. That's a little pun for the uninitiated. Unrivaled is a new, professional, women's basketball league, so I watched and delayed blogging. It was started by two WNBA players; Minnesota LYNX own Napheesa Collier (Phee) and New York Liberty's, Brenda Stewart (Stewie) Because the WNBA salaries are modest most players play in Europe or Asia in the off season (winter) where they make much more money. The WNBA season runs opposite the NBA season, therefore their games are mostly in the summer. Phee and Stewie wanted an alternative to playing overseas, thus, they formed Unrivaled, which is now in its first season.

   Unrivaled is a three on three format. The floor is a little shorter and the shot clock only 18 seconds. There are other changes, too. Locally the games are televised on TNT and TruTV so I can watch. It's a very fast paced game. Because I follow the WNBA, being able to livestream their games when I'm at The Little House, I recognize all the players. This adds to the enjoyment.

   Recently Unrivaled hosted a one on one tournament for their players. Phee won this event. Thirty players entered the tournament which was single elimination.  Phee won, capturing the grand prize of $200,000. That's more than her WNBA salary. Compare that with NBA salaries! Each of her three on three teammates received  $10,000. based on her win. Phee's  team is leading the league with an 8 and 1 record.

  So, that's my priority, which sure beats football.

Takk for alt,

Al

Book Report

    Rifling through the container of books MJV sent home with me last fall I came across Ghost Boy: The Miraculous Escape of  a Misdiagnosed Boy Trapped Inside His Own Body, written by the boy himself, Martin Pistorius. Intrigued I picked it up and found the promo-blurb on the front cover, "Read Ghost Boy. It is really a 'page turner' and you will be a better person for experiencing Martin Pistorius' life." Michael Hingson. to be true!

   Struck by a mysterious illness when he was 12, Pistorius, ends in a comatose state. In a care facility by the day and home with his family at night, he regains consciousness. Yet, no one realizes it for years while he is totally aware of his surroundings. He is incapable of alerting others that his mind is active. After years a compassionate care giver at the care facility intuits that he's alert. With her insistence he's tested and found to be cognizant. Gradually, from this testing, his life unfolds.

   His honest revelation of his "captivity" and the struggles to live in a world foreign to him are more than poignant. There are many ups and downs to his story. He has to teach himself to read, while he intuitively understands computers. Revealing his assessment of how others respond to him challenge the reader to evaluate his/her response and reaction to the differently abled. Therein lies the opportunity to be "a better person."

  Yes, I say, read it!  Perhaps you've seen the movie.

Takk for alt,

Al

Thanks, one more time, MJV!

Absent

   The other reader pointed out that there was no post yesterday.  Sat down to blog and livestreamed a basketball game which went to overtime. When the game finished blogging was out of mind. And, "NO" it had nothing to to do with the two bottles of wine in the previous picture/

MY BAD and I'm sorry!

al

Prohibition Dinner

     Periodically the OFH features a special theme dinner. Jim, our food services director is an accomplished chef and he enjoys doing these specials tonight the there was Prohibition Dinner and admittance required a special password: Blind Tiger. Reservations were required and seating was limited to 60 persons. Because it's the OFH seating was at 4:40. When I asked Jim "Why 4:30?" He said "If I say at 5:00 everyone comes at 4:30." 😁 Proof positive it is the OFH! Seating was by affinity groups so dinners were seated with friends. See the menu reprinted below.

   Living the good life in the OFH.

Takk for alt,

Al

                         Our dinner table.                              

The menu which you'll need to read on its side because I gave up trying to turn it.

Short Read

   Who knew that Saskatoon, Juneberry, Shadbush, Sugarplum, Sarvis and Serviceberry are all names for the same plant?  I didn't! The official name is Amelanchier. "Ethnobiologists know that the more names a plant has, the greater its cultural importance."  P. 3, in Robin Wall Kimmerer's book, Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. She's the author of Braiding Sweetgrass.

   It's a sweet little book, full of common sense we usually bypass, only 112 small pages and large print. She writes from her mutual perspectives as a botanist and one of indigenous heritage. The book could be summarized by the difference it makes if one considers the produce of the natural world as commodities or gifts. When these items are commodified the result is their treatment as part of the dominant economic order and impersonally bought and sold.

   When the offerings of the natural world are seen as gifts their exchange fosters relationship and community. Want to guess which Kimmerer extols? Using Serviceberry as a case in point she offers illustrations of what happens when the berries are received as gifts. This she contrasts with the often exploitive results of trading in commodities.

  Take a couple of hours and read it yourself.

Takk for alt,

Al

       Monastery on the cliffs Greece. No place for persons with acrophobia!

Recruit?

     These blog posts about things Marine haven't caused either of you to seek out a recruiter and enlist? Wait, maybe you're not in the appropriate age category, that would explain everything.

    So, backing up my computer brought to mind backing up of a different kind. Here come the Marines again so feel free to tune out. While stationed in California I was sent to jeep driving school and it took two weeks. A couple of memories of that experience came back. After a bit of behind the wheel experience the jeep was attached to a two wheel trailer. Pylons were set up behind the trailer and we were to take turns backing the trailer between the pylons. When it was my turn I successfully maneuvered the trailer between the pylons on the first try. "How could you do that? I was asked. I said "farm experience." Completing the course required testing by the state of California. Passing that I was issued a California Drivers license needed if we drove off base.

   When I was getting my CDL (Chauffer's Drivers License)  it was necessary to a back a semi-trailer through pylons. Those trailers are essentially the same as a two wheel trailer. Farm experience to the fore.

Takk for alt,

Al

The Corps had it's own version of a jeep called a Mighty Mite. It was manufactured by  American Motors. It had a four speed transmission and no two speed as the jeep had. Made of mostly aluminum it was designed for transport by helicopter so weight was kept to a minimum. It was a snappy little thing and much more fun to drive than a jeep.

  

                            Mighty Mite

This n That!

     Despite my previous declarations about not watching TV, I do watch sports frequently. The "not watching" applies to programs, news, movies, etc. Surfing between sports shows has shown how many commercials are aired, over and over and over again. It seems that a high percentage of the time than I switch to a game of interest it's during a commercial. 😒

    Yesterday's blog with the accompanying picture reminded me that as a Marine a whole new vocabulary, i.e., nomenclature, had to be learned. Part of it was military jargon. However, with the relationship between Marines and Navy, Navy parlance predominated. Here are some examples: bed=rack, floor=deck, door=hatch, cap=cover, wall=bulkhead, toilet=head, upstairs=topside, cafeteria=mess hall, stairs=ladder, kitchen police=mess duty, gun=rifle and don't ever make THAT mistake, Enough about this.

Takk for alt,

Al

A helicopter leaving the USS Princeton, LPH 5, note the 5 on the superstructure. This was in the Spring of 1962 and they went to Vietnam to relieve the first squadron of Army helicopters in the country. (LPH is Landing Pad Helicopter.)  I spent several months aboard this ship in the South China Sea and from Okinawa back to the States. That trip took half as long as the trip to Asia on a liberty ship which travelled at 13 knots.

One of those times!

      With little to say it's best to keep things brief so that there's not a demonstration of how little I have to say. You've all heard "it's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than open it and prove you are." 😀 So I'll post some random pictures and leave it at that.

Takk for alt,

Al

Sitting on my rack (bunk) aboard ship shows how close they were to each other. The bed consisted of canvas with grommets through which a rope was stretched. The rope was wound around an aluminum, tubular frame. ( See picture) It was quite comfortable though lacked much clearance above. My M-1, rifle hangs nearby. I was issued that rife after boot camp it was with me until we left Asia to return to the U.S. You ask, "why am I wearing sneakers?" The battalion commander mandated we wear them aboard ship to avoid scuffing the decks with our boots and they were issued to us. They caused the sailors to snicker.  On one of the liberty ships the racks, in the hold to which we were assigned, were stacked ten high. The air was bad at the top but sleeping on a lower one meant that Marines above would use your rack as step as they climbed to theirs. 

My Case

 

  

    Yes, I've been living for years without adult supervision.😜

Book Report

 "And three apples fell from heaven

One for the storyteller,

One for the listener,

One for the eavesdropper."   Old Armenian Saying

   Therefore the title of the book Three Apples Fell From The Sky, which is set in a remote mountain village in Armenia. The author, Narine Abgaryan, who is from Armenia, now lives in Russia. It's a grand story, a novel? perhaps. The book cover calls if a 'fable' and that's perhaps the best taxonomy. The cover declares it an "International Bestseller."

   It's unique as it follows the hardscrabble life of a small village in the mountains. The village is linked to the outside world by a single road and a telegraph. Life is not easy as these people suffer earthquakes and hunger from drought. The book cover accurately states "...a heartwarming tale of community, courage, and the irresistible joy of everyday friendship."

   Here's a sample from the book. "Anatolia.... grasped that happiness was heaven and grief was hell. And their God was everywhere...because He was the unseen threads that connected them with each other."       P 124

   Yes, read it!

Takk for alt,

Al