Don's Blog Passing 2-22-19

Some information in this blog came from the world famous "telephone game" so don't hold me to it.

It's been some weeks now since my friend and colleague Stan Thawley passed. He was one of my first residents when I came back from guarding your northern front as a USAF major so the difference in our ages was not that great. Stan had undergone tricuspid valve replacement a year or so ago and some time after that had retired to a more bucolic life of raising day lilies, writing poetry, and following about thirty-five other interests. He was learning to play the dulcimer and was taking violin lessons. He still volunteered at the VA doing physical exams. They said the found him on the floor of an office at the VA. They jumped his bones for over an hour to no avail. Showing its inherent "class" the VA informed the family through the Kirkwood Police despite the fact that Stan had worked in the VA system for decades and was a veteran himself. I guess its hard to recognize someone with no clothes after an unsuccessful resusitation.

I heard about his death several days later. My mind crashed: "No; Are you sure? He was much too young; Sad; He was so vital; He just retired; Tragic; What will happen to Betty? Crap; We are not getting out of this alive; He

was such a gentle man; He was so sensitive; He touched so many people; He loved his work; He taught by example; He led by example; He loved his family; He loved."

I loved his poetry. Some of it was better than others. He was proud to be a 'published' poet. His sly wit shows through his poems. Here is one about day lilies. As you may know day lilies last for one day.

The First of My Summer Lovers

Just out of the shower

Wearing only lacy dew

She has arrived early 

Voluptuous, steamy.

She is no coy one

Her petals spread open

Waiting for mating.

Comfortably naked in the sun

With her soft creamy skin

And dark inner lips

She has come for adulation

Sex and sun.

Confident, she winks

At me with those dark eyes

Saying, come adore me.

Embarrassed, I have forgotten 

Her name… Misty Maude I believe.

Undulating in the wind

She whispers,

Come closer, closer

Love me, love me.

Quick now, skip the foreplay.

We haven't much time you know.

I'm only passing through,

Just here for one day.

Stan was a superb observer. Following his cardiac surgery before being moved out of the

intensive care unit he remembered:

Extubation

Let's just start with stark terror

I know they told me about it pre-op

But who remembers that?

Intubated, you can express no sound

All you can do is kick and flail

Like it is the last act of your living.

I heard someone say they are going

To check my breathing. Skip that!

Trust me. I'm breathing!

No wonder they check later for delirium.

It feels like cactus coming out

I see the thing as they remove it

A crusty old pipe encrusted in barnacles.

Stan loved nature and often wrote about it.

"Samara(Botany)- a seed with a wing. ash, sycamore, maple"

Samara

When I die I want to be like those winged seeds,

not like those reluctant leaves, holding on,

dried and crinkled, their indecisive falling,

stumbling their way to the ground.

no I want to helicopter down to my landing pad,

flags whipping the wind, a giggling child waiting,

who, full of wonder and grace, will throw me up

into the air again and again.

Stan was not your average surgeon. Immeasurable.

Don's Blog HAPPY VD 2-14-19

Some Old Some Older 12-25-18

These images are from a box that my mom collected for each of us. Somehow Bob got my box and Kimbi sent it some time ago.

This shows the 3 boys in front of the Archibald Howell House in Marietta. I actually remember Bob and David’s outfits.


This is the first toy that I remember as mine - all my previous ones were hand me downs. It is a metal train with an engine and two cars. It is currently in our basement.

 

Here I am in my first tux ready for my senior prom at LTHS. Enjoy the objects on the left.

 

We are on my Scorpion snow mobile that I bought with my inheritance from my grandparents- Robert V. and Rachel L. Thomas.
We are in front of 3845 Baxter Road in Anchorage. Dad has an Air Force parka, heavy mittens and snow boots. Mom has a parka, Jan’s wolfs head mittens and canvas mukluks. Gord has our boy doll, the first of its kind with a real ‘penney’. Mom has ‘baby brother’ an antique doll. Lee has Jessica , a brown fur monkey. When I went to Anchorage in the summer of 2017 the house was gone and replaced by a subdivision.
 
 

This is ‘Christmas Fairie' who had been part of a holiday window exhibit for Famous-Barr’s downtown store. Jan found out that there was a sale of the window contents and purchased him. His head and right arm move still but now with a bit of a whistle.


 

Don's Blog Big Two-Hearted River II 2-6-19

We even had time for caviar.

It was heavy duty meat fishing. We ate salmon all winter.

Don't let anyone tell you that the Air Force doesn't take care of its own.

Don's Blog Big Two-Hearted River I 2-6-19

This is from my class in 'Young Hemingway', at the Lifelong Learning Institute at Washington U.:

It is in the middle of my Air Force service (in Alaska & not in Viet Nam). I am on the river. The line is "alive" and the fish and I are one.

It was quite an afternoon.

This was out of the Air Force fishing camp, King Salmon, near Nak Nak Alaska.

Don's Blog My Bear IV 2-8-19

My love for my bear is more than skin deep. Here is the skull which has hung on the wallfor more than fifty years. Without the soft tissue it looks small. When you look at the teeth its not.

What on earth is this bone? Scientifically it is called a baculum. The Inuit call it anoosik. It is the penis bone of my black bear, which is a naturally occurring bone in certain male

placental primates including walrus, seal, and bear. It is an ossified structure that parallels the urethra.

It is almost seven inches long. Now how  did I know it was there? That is another story.

I gave this one to my son Lee Sessions, the Arctic Expedition Paddler, who was living in Alaska

when the bear was obtained. I told him he could use it as a swizzle stick. I don't know if he does.

Don's Blog My Bear III 2-8-19

We took the hide back to Anchorage where it was tanned by a local taxidermist. A friend named Ed Shelton shared his experience of the natural history of a bear skin rug. Initially, he said, the skin hangs proudly on a wall.

Then it is placed on the floor of the den and later on the floor of the bedroom. One night in the dark you stub your foot in the head and the rug ends up on a shelf in storage.

Indeed I hung 'my bear' on the wall of the hallway in our small house in Anchorage. It was a narrow hallway so sometimes if we were carrying something we had to turn sideways to get by it. When we moved below to the lower 48 the bear found its way to our living room floor. 

After some years it was moved to our chalet in the woods out west of our home. I never stubbed my toe on it. Seasonally it was stored on a shelf. 

As it began to deteriorate  I have had it worked on by Bollini Taxidermy, Schwartz Taxidermy and Wild Spirits Taxidermy. It continues to age with me. Last year I had one of its claws glued back on.

It lives by a different schedule. It hibernates in the summer on a shelf and comes out in the winter to enjoy the living room of our Lake House.

I'm not sure which of the two of us will leave first but I continue to love 'my bear' as both of us slowly fade.

Don's Blog My Bear II 2-7-19

With the help of our guide and my hunting buddy we proceeded to skin 'my bear'. My surgical skills were an advantage.

Don's Blog My Bear I 2-7-19

It has been over fifty years since I first met my bear. We were hunting for black bears out of Whittier, Alaska on the shores of Prince William Sound. I was young and excited with my brother's Seven mm Magnum rifle. I hunt with my camera now but that's another story. 

This black bear was taken near the shore. It would prove to be a single heart shot. There was a moment of amazing excitement and a small touch of sadness. I was certainly proud. He had not been out of hibernation long so his coat was soft and luxurious.

Don's Blog - Poem 2-6-19

My  brother sent me this poem several years ago. The advantage of a good poem is thatit is good for re-reading and can touch us again and again. 

Another aside is that my parents indeed honeymooned near Sea Island, Georgia in the late twenties and we spent many August summers in Lakeside, Michigan.