Lisa Marie Durnan February 15th, 1980 – June 22nd, 1983

           It was hot in 1983. I was only 7 but I can still remember that hot sun that summer. I can remember a lot of things from the summer of 1983. It was a summer that would change my life. It changed the life of my family. It made me who I am today.

            I preach to everyone that I wish they’d write family stories down. I myself am guilty of failing to take the time to actually write everything down as well. I do a lot of writing, but it’s so much easier telling the story verbally. The problem is, verbal stories generally fade into the ether of time in a generation or two. So for that reason, I have taken the time to write this painful story down. It is my hope that my sister will be remembered many years from now, even long after I am gone.

            Father’s Day fell on Sunday the 19^th of June in 1983. My mother told me that she took my father out for a nice Father’s Day supper that night and that we had a babysitter. I don’t remember that, but I do remember my parents using babysitters and going out while we lived at the Red House there at Rowley. I do remember playing outside that weekend with other children. My memory says that Jean and Dale were down, and that Little Dale Robinson had his family there. If they were, it had to have been on Saturday the 18^th. I could be confusing my memories with another time, but this is what I remember. The one clear memory I have was taking a branch from a tree that had broken off from the wind, and chasing kids around with it. Isn’t it funny how we can remember little details like that sometime and totally forget large ones like having a baby sitter? Mom says she remembers my sister Lisa being fussy that evening and not wanting her and Dad to leave. She thought it was just because Lisa didn’t want watched by a baby sitter, but now she wonders if it wasn’t because she was getting sick.

            On the morning of the 20^th, I remember it was sunny. It was a very hot and sunny day. I was sitting at the table in the dining room, and I remember Lisa standing there, not feeling well. She threw up this white colored crap and my parents decided she needed to see a doctor.

            My parents were not ones to utilize doctors often. Mom would take the “baling wire and twine” approach to doctoring us up at home, and Dad didn’t like us seeing doctors very often because he was, let’s say – frugal; very frugal.

            Mom called Doc McCollough in Walker there. Barney McCoullough was a physician’s assistant and had that office there on the southwest side of Walker. I think Wendy Hocken lives there now. Back then, Barney had a pretty good business there and there was even a pharmacy next door.

            Lisa had just had her immunizations not too long beforehand. Mom to this day wonders if she didn’t get a bad batch. But on this day, Barney looked Lisa over and said she must have the flu. Take her home and let her get plenty of rest.

            Well, that’s just what my parents did. Some people have given Barney a lot of flack over this and many said that he should have been burned at the stake for what happened, but the truth is, Barney had no reason to suspect anything more serious as Meningitis shows all the symptoms of the flu. A stiff neck would have been the only extra indicator and Mom said she doesn’t remember Lisa complaining of her neck being stiff. Barney beat himself up something fierce after this happened. Barney took it very personally and I know for a fact it wasn’t easy for him to go on after my sister died. My parents could have sued Barney, but they didn’t. It wasn’t going to bring Lisa back and it wasn’t like Barney was out there killing people by being negligent.

            Now, you have to understand the way our family operated at this time. My father was a railroad engineer and was working out of Clinton, Iowa while we lived at Rowley. This was because the railroad bounced my father around from town to town every so often like the military supposedly does, and so my parents bought a home midway between all the towns my father worked.

            Dad did a pretty good stint in Clinton. He had a small apartment there where he stayed during the week, and then he’d come home for his days off. We didn’t see a lot of Dad during this time. Mom wanted us to either sell the house and move to Clinton with him or rent the place out and move with him there in Clinton. Mom says Dad wouldn’t hear of it and this became something she held against him for the rest of their marriage.

            Dad was home on his weekend and had to go back to Clinton. While he was home, he scheduled an exhaust job up at Boubin’s in Independence. He had to get going, so he layed Lisa down in his and Mom’s bed. I remember they had these blue sheets on their bed. He turned the little desktop oscillating fan onto her and let her get her rest. It was the last time anyone saw Lisa with her eyes open and alive.

            Dad left for Boubin’s. Like I’ve said before, it was terribly hot out. We didn’t have air conditioning at that home. It was a cement block house and the sun would warm those blocks and the house would hold heat. The only way to escape it was to go outside and sit under a tree. The only saving grace of that property when it came to heat was that it sat on a hill and the wind always seemed to blow up there.

            I don’t know exactly what time it was, but it was not too long after Dad left, but I happened to go through my parent’s bedroom. In there, I found my sister in respiratory distress. I was only 7 years old, but I knew something was seriously wrong. Lisa’s chest was heaving and she was gasping for air.

            I went out and told my mother what I saw and Mom chewed me out, telling me to leave Lisa alone. Mom claims this did not happen, but it did. I remember looking at the orange rotary phone hanging on the wall there in the kitchen and thinking about calling the operator.

            Yes, the operator. This was when we still had a party line and there wasn’t any 911. This was before 911 addresses. When you had an emergency, you called the operator who connected you with fire, police, or ambulance services. It was either that or you had a list of the phone numbers for the different services next to the phone.

            Now, my mother was in the middle of doing dishes. That much we can agree on. It was hot out. I mean it was scorching hot out! She had her hands in hot water, I don’t suppose us children were behaving the greatest from the heat, and she had a sick kid. Dad was getting ready to go on the road again and that always bothered my mother. I can understand her being in a foul mood.

            However, it is my recollection that she told me to leave my sister alone and go play. She says she didn’t snap at me, but stopped doing the dishes and went and checked on Lisa right away. Now mind you, I wouldn’t have wanted to pick up that phone and call if my mother had went and checked on her immediately. Either way, we both agree that at this point, it was probably beyond the point of no return. She would have had to have been admitted earlier that morning and even then, we may have lost her. It is what it is.

            Either way, after awhile, my mother went and checked on my sister. I know this for a fact. I was sitting at the table in the dining room when this next part happened. As long as I live, I will never forget the sight of my mother coming out of her bedroom with Lisa in her arms, trying to blow breath into her body while going to the phone. My mother was in full terror mode.

            Now, where I was when Mom made the phone call I cannot remember. I do remember going upstairs and watching the rest of this unfold. We had an open staircase and I layed up top there peeking my head down watching things between the rungs.

            My mother called Susie Brentener. Susie lived just to the south of us and was Steve and Hal Brentener’s daughter. She was much older than me, but rode the same bus. She used to babysit us and Mom thinks she is the one who babysat us the night before. Mom knew that Susie Brentener knew how to perform CPR. As it so happened, Hal and Susie were on their way out the door to go buy groceries when Mom got ahold of them. Just one minute later and Mom would have missed them. They quickly arrived at the house as they only lived a mile or two away. Mom obviously called the ambulance too as they came a little while after Hal and Susie.

            I remember watching my sister lay there on the red carpet of our front room looking lifeless. I remember watching Susie performing CPR on my sister. Even to this day it is very difficult for me to remember this. Just recalling it makes my heart hurt, especially when I think of my own children. That’s something nobody needs to witness. I’m sure Susie never thought she’d ever put her CPR to use like that on a little girl. I wonder if she still thinks about that day and how it has affected her life?

            Lisa lay there just inside the front door that we never used. We always used the back door, but this was different. The front door was closest to the road. We always knew when strangers came visiting as they always knocked on the front door. This time the door was open waiting for the ambulance.

            The ambulance came and I cannot recall if they took over CPR there or not. I’m sure they had to. I don’t remember the next few minutes as they loaded Lisa up and took her away. I just know they pulled into the yard in the grass and backed up to the front door. Then she was gone.

            I don’t know if Susie stayed, but I know Hal stayed with us. Mom left with Lisa in the ambulance. I could tell that Hal was very disturbed. This was before cell phones and we had no way of getting hold of my father other than to call Boubin’s. They said he had left already and was on his way home. I do remember Hal pacing around outside at the end of our drive. Like I said, she was very disturbed and just kept pacing and looking to the north towards Independence.

            I remember my father finally showing up and Hal waving at him to get his attention. He just barely pulled in and she ran to my father’s window and I could see her emphatically gesturing. Dad spun the car around there in the driveway and he squealed the tires as he left. I have never seen my father drive like that before. He headed back to Independence where they had taken Lisa.

            Now at this point in the story, I will rely upon what my parents and others have told me, as well as my own recollections. I was not at the hospital, but stayed there to home. I believe Dad’s sister Marie came to stay with us. Maybe it was Veronica, but I’m almost positive it was Marie. Either way, it was one of Dad’s youngest sisters who came to stay with us.

            They took my sister to Independence where Doc Mayner took a look at Lisa and called in the Life Flight helicopter. The chopper came and they took Lisa to the University of Iowa Children’s Hospital. I remember seeing my Aunt Kate come to the house and Mom said that was because they wanted to take Joni in for observation since she was only 14 months old. She said that Kate took her to St. Lukes in Cedar Rapids for observation. Mom and Dad went to Iowa City and Lisa was put on life support. They did not know what was wrong with her at this point. So ends the events of the 20^th of June, 1983.

            I don’t recall much about the 21^st of June other than our neighbor brought us lunch. Our neighbors to the north were Roger and Sharon Nelson. My father spoke quite disparagingly about the Nelsons. I’m not sure why, but I know he didn’t like the hog operation that they had to the west of our property. We had a 5 acre parcel and they owned the land to the north and west of us. Harold Kress owned a small hog operation to the south of us. We were located on the west side of the road. At that time, nobody lived to our east across the road. Since then, they moved the church that used to sit a few miles south up to across the road, and slightly south. But back in 1983, it was just Roger Nelson to our north and west and Harold Kress to our south.

            Dad complained about the smell of the hog operation and I believe he even attempted to sue them over it. I was just a young kid, but I remember things weren’t so great as neighbors between us, or at least that was our take on it. They probably didn’t know Dad was upset until they were contacted by an attorney. I don’t know. It was what it was. But anyhow, on the 21^st of June, Sharon Nelson brought over a picnic basket filled with food. Here’s where all the information I just gave you plays into this. I didn’t know if it was safe to eat this food or not! This was like Snow White accepting an apple from the old miserly witch. Mom and Dad made the Nelsons out to be bad people and here they had brought over a picnic basket of food. I don’t remember exactly what was in that basket, but I believe it was fried chicken. I also remember sweet corn being in there, and it was very delicious. I remember thinking that nobody who could cook so well and be so thoughtful could be so evil. I’m sure the Nelsons were fine people. I love my father, but sometimes his main-springs are wound a little too tight.

            I had chores to do during this time in my life. I had a handful of rabbits to take care of. I remember that someone came and helped do the rest of the chores. I don’t know if it was Uncle Mark, or just who it was. I remember watching them milk our cow and it just felt weird seeing someone else do the job. It’s sort of like seeing someone else wear your clothes. It’s a feeling of having something very familiar and yet very strange at the same time. Our place was starting to seem like an airport. People were coming and going quite a bit now. Mom and Dad were gone and it was difficult for me at age 7 having all of this taking place. I just wanted “normal” to return. Little did I know that what was normal up to this point would never be the normal for us ever again. We were about to embark on a new path of a “new normal”.

            Back in Iowa City. They had done a spinal tap on my sister and discovered it was meningitis. At this point in time, there wasn’t much that could be done. Meningitis is an inflammation of the lining around the brain. It can be either viral or bacterial. Lisa’s was bacterial. Many of us carry the bacteria which causes meningitis in the back of our noses. Why it enters the bloodstream and infects some people is still sort of mysterious. When the lining around the brain swells up, it cuts off blood to the brain and kills you.

            June 22^nd, 1983. It was hot. It had been hot for a few days at this point. One thing I will remember about the summer of 1983 is the relentless sun and the constant heat. It didn’t help that we didn’t have air conditioning and that we lived in that block house. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It was hot!

            Dad came home on the morning of the 22^nd. I think he came home to check on us and stuff around the house. This much I can tell you. While he was home, a phone call came in from the hospital. I remember this very well. There was a chair in the kitchen between the fridge and the sink. It was facing the dining room. We never kept a chair in the kitchen, but I suppose one was there for the purpose of these phone calls. Dad was sitting down and I was sitting on his lap facing him. He was facing the living room and I was facing the breezeway. I remember Dad started crying. He cried in a way that I have never seen before or since. In fact, I thought he was faking it. He wasn’t.

            Mom had called. They did a brainwave test on Lisa and she was brain dead. They wanted her off of the life support right then and there. Back then, before I-380 went all the way through Cedar Rapids and up to Waterloo like it does now, one had to travel down what is now Center Point Road and then through Cedar Rapids to get onto I-380 in order to go to Iowa City. It was going to take Dad about 2 hours to get back to the hospital. Iowa City still insisted that Lisa be removed immediately. From what I was told, Uncle Mike Durnan and his wife Bonnie were there and Mom said Uncle Mike got up and told the doctor that they were going to wait for my father to get back down there. Mike is a big man. They got the point, but the doctors told Mom that they were going to go and get a court order to have Lisa removed and Mother told them to go get it.

            Dad headed back down to Iowa City. At home, I didn’t know what was going on down there. I think my father shielded me from the news at this point. Mom sat there in Lisa’s room with her on life support knowing that very soon Lisa would be dead. Mom said she fixed Lisa’s hair all pretty like Lisa liked and painted her finger and toenails. Mom said she kept running her fingers through Lisa’s hair.

            Lisa had not been baptized at this point as my parents weren’t all that religious. Lisa was baptized there in the hospital by the Catholic chaplain before they took her off of life support.

            When Dad returned, they took Lisa off of life support and handed her to my father. He was in a rocking chair and sat there rocking her. Mom kept running her fingers through Lisa’s hair and rubbing her back. Lisa gasped for air and her body went limp. She died in my father’s arms.

            What do you do when your daughter dies? Life changes, that is for sure. My parents have blurry recollections at this point, and I can certainly understand why. Mom did say that they told her they would give her a tranquilizer and that when Lisa died, they came and gave Mom the shot and she said it was like Marlin Perkins had shot her with an elephant tranquilizer gun. She said it was quite potent.

            Mom says it was so potent that she cannot remember who drove her home. She had to stop by St. Luke’s to pick up my sister Joni. She got there and here Joni was missing. Joni had escaped her bed and was standing in the 6^th floor window of the hospital looking out it. Now, was Joni in any real danger since hospital windows are sealed? Probably not, but the fact is, they weren’t watching Joni very well and here Mom had just lost one daughter and another one was MIA in St. Lukes.

            Mom says she didn’t even wait to change Joni out of her hospital pajamas. She grabbed Joni and headed for home. I can’t say as I blame her.

            Somewhere about this time, they made anyone who was in contact with Lisa take an antibiotic. It wasn’t just any antibiotic. It was a special one geared towards meningitis. I do not know the name of it, but I will never forget what it did to us. It turned us orange. Our skin turned orange. I peed orange. Our sweat was orange. Our eyes got an orange tint to them. Just like those people who take colloidal silver turn blue, we did the same in the color of orange.

            I wouldn’t swallow pills at that age, so they took the pill and put it in ice cream for me. It turned my ice cream orange. I cannot tell you if it tasted bad or not. It was hot that summer and I never turned ice cream down, even if it was orange. I still wish I remember which aunt stayed with us. I still think it was Marie and God bless her as she had to put up with me and my mouthiness. I refused to take my medicine until they figured out that ice cream trick. (I have since learned it was in fact Aunt Marie, God bless her!)

            Our home really became Grand Central Station at this time. We had all sorts of family there at the house helping out. My parents had a funeral to plan. They turned to White Funeral Home in Independence which is the funeral home that my family has used for many, many years.  

           Mom insisted that Lisa not be buried. Mom could not stand the thought of putting dirt on top of her daughter. To hear Mom tell it, Dad complained about the cost of putting Lisa in a mausoleum and Mom said that she didn’t care. She said if anyone threw dirt on Lisa that she would shoot them dead. Mom said the White boys said that they would have her arrested for threatening and Mom says she told them to go ahead, but that she would eventually get out and come hunt them down and shoot them dead. She told my father the same thing. My mother understandably took Lisa’s death very hard. I think losing a child is one of the worst things I have seen a human being endure.

            They found a cemetery in Waterloo where Lisa could be placed in a mausoleum vs. being buried. Lisa was to be interred at Mt. Olivet Catholic Cemetery there by the intersection of Highway 63 and US 20. People in the mausoleum are placed two per square in the wall. One will be placed on the inside of the building and another on the outside part of the wall. Mom didn’t want a stranger in the same hole as Lisa so they purchased both spots in the wall.

            While they were planning the funeral, I remember Aunt Mary Turner and her husband Kenny came to spend some time with us. I remember Mary taking my cousin Jeremy and me up to the funeral home in her green Chevy pickup with the topper on the back. She drove up through Quasky and was going to head for Winthrop to get to Independence. The Diagonal used to be gravel and had just recently been paved at this time. Mary wasn’t sure where the Diagonal lead to so she was going to take the way she knew. We told her to take the Diagonal and she told us in jest that if we got her lost, we would be in trouble. Mary took us up to the funeral home, but I remember she also took Jeremy and me out for ice cream at the Dairy Queen.

            Once back home, I was supposed to take a bath. I refused to take one for some reason and Kenny Turner lost patience with me. He took me by the arm and made me take a bath. I don’t blame him. I was most likely being an ass. I was only 7 years old and this was pretty tough for me too.

            I remember going to the wake. I remember the funeral better. Mrs. Bovenmeyer, my first grade teacher was there. She came up and gave me a hug and a kiss. God bless her! She was one of the sweetest teachers that anyone could ever have. Reverend Bill Arms from the church in Quasky came and was part of the service. I remember kids from the church there singing at the funeral. I remember we had standing room only when it came to Lisa’s funeral. It was very well attended.

            When the funeral was over, everyone was heading out to their cars to go to the cemetery. Again, it was very hot outside! 1983 was a scorcher. I was with my parents when they closed the coffin. I saw my parents give Lisa a kiss on the head before they closed the lid. I chose to give her a kiss on the forehead as well. I’m glad I did. I never did cry at Lisa’s funeral. I felt bad about that for years, but again, I was only 7.

            When we left, I rode in the white hearse with my parents. Mary and Kenny had our car and drove it for us. The one thing I remember about being in the hearse was the air conditioning. It was ice cold! I was not used to that. My parents car didn’t have working air conditioning. It was a nice chilly ride from Independence to the west side of Waterloo.

            I can still remember the police at all the intersections between Independence and the cemetery stopping traffic. They had their hats off in a sign of respect. We never stopped from the time we left Independence until we got to the cemetery. I remember them saying our funeral procession was over 2 miles long.

            Once we got to the cemetery, we got out of the car. My father was to be a pall bearer at this point when we took Lisa inside the mausoleum to place her in the wall. Dad asked if I wanted to go with him or stay with Mom. I opted to go with Dad. I held Dad’s hand while we took Lisa into the mausoleum. I remember the hole in the wall was open. I remember seeing little ball bearings inside the hole. I thought that was odd, but now I understand they were in there to help slide the casket in.

            I remember Aunt Bonnie the most there at the mausoleum. She was crying something fierce and I have never seen her tore up so bad. God bless Bonnie. She had a soft heart. They ratcheted Lisa up in the air and slid her into the wall. Even though we placed her in the wall from the inside of the mausoleum, her plaque is on the outside of the building. That was it. I don’t remember much after that. I know we went somewhere and had a luncheon afterwards. I think it was back at the funeral home.

            How do you go back to living life after something like this? My parents had to go back to living their life even though it had been drastically changed forever. My parents dealt with it very differently. Dad clammed up and Mom did strange things. My father became less and less jovial and became irritated much easier after Lisa’s death.

            I remember Lisa’s first birthday after she died. Mom baked a cake for Lisa but wouldn’t let us eat it. She said if Lisa wasn’t there to enjoy it, then neither would we. She took it up to the nursing home and let the elderly people eat it.

            One thing is for sure, I saw what it did to someone having to lose somebody close to them without having the chance to say goodbye. You learn not to take people for granted anymore. You also have a constant realization that anyone can be gone in a snap of the fingers. People who lose loved ones suddenly like this seem to have an understanding that those who haven’t lost someone this way lack. Losing someone suddenly changes you in a way that you cannot imagine. You sadly have to live it to understand it.

            I think Lisa’s death was the start of my parents’ divorce less than 8 years later. If my parents were having problems in their marriage in early 1983, Lisa’s death only exacerbated them. When I look back at my childhood, I look at it as those years before Lisa died and those years after she died. I had two sets of parents. There were the ones I had before Lisa died and those after. The ones before were warm and loving. The ones after were cold and distant.

            It affected me in the following ways. I felt guilty for not calling the operator for a long time afterwards. I learned that people can be taken away from you in a snap of the fingers. I became closer to God after Lisa’s death. I started attending church there in Quasky. I would go on my own and Mom would sit down at the Big Q. I still have the red bible that Lois Murray gave me in 1986. Once we moved to Walker, I quit going to church, but always felt a relationship with God.

            When I was 18, I was working at Iowa Ham in Independence. I worked the graveyard shift and I remember one afternoon having a vivid dream with my sister Lisa in it. She came and told me that everything was okay. She told me that I would have a daughter and that I would name her Lisa Marie as well. Wouldn’t you know, 3 years later I did indeed have a daughter and of course, her name was Lisa Marie Durnan after my sister.

            I want to take the time here to tell you a little about my sister. She will never have the opportunity to have children or grandchildren of her own who might otherwise write about her. As her brother, I feel a duty to preserve her memory. She certainly deserves it.

            Lisa was born February 15^th, 1980 at Oelwein, Iowa. She was born a “Blue” baby, with her umbilical cord around her neck. Thankfully, she survived that. She was only 14 months younger than my brother Casey. The two of them were pretty tight. She was my eldest sister, the third child of my parents, Bernard Luke and Teresa Ann Kane Durnan.

            Lisa was a very smart child. She did everything early. She was the type of kid who didn’t take guff from anyone. If we picked on her, she would wait until we were taking a nap and then she would come and pound the piss out of us. I remember her getting mad at me and throwing sand in my eyes one time. Boy that made me angry. I couldn’t see for awhile and my mother had to hold me under some running water to clear my eyes.

            Lisa liked “pretty” things. She loved her dolls. She was a lovable girl. She liked to play doctor and come check you out to see if you had a fever. She would take and open your eyes wide like a doctor and check you out. Dad would nickname her Doc Lisa sometimes.

            Lisa loved the Smurfs. Her last Christmas she got a lot of Smurf items. She referred to the Smurfs as “Murfs”. Another unique speech item for Lisa was that she used the word “foof” for “move”. If she wanted you to move over, she’d tell you to “foof” over. Even to this day my family uses the word “foof” for the word move. That’s a Lisa-ism.

            I remember one time we were going to see Aunt Diane. This was before the seat belt law in 1986. We were in the back of the car and Lisa was standing up in the back of the car leaning over the front of the seat. She was falling asleep and her legs were giving out under her. Her butt would start to droop down and it would wake her up just enough that she would stand back up and then the process would repeat. Casey and I got to laughing pretty good about that one. It entertained us for many miles.

            I have stopped from time to time up there at the cemetery where Lisa is interred. I haven’t been there since 2009 due to health. When I drove truck, I would go by on Highway 20 and you can look right up there to where she is. I would often toot my horn for her. I think of her often.

            I normally don’t like it when people say, “So and so is up in heaven looking down on us right now!” How do you know "so and so" made it to Heaven? You might be surprised. However, in Lisa’s case, I have no problem using the word Heaven. I do not believe for one minute that God would condemn an innocent little girl to Hell. I have always felt that God is a jealous God and likes to keep the best for himself. Maybe he took Lisa before she had a chance to become a sinner? I guess I’ll know the answer when I finally see God for myself. It’s one of the mysteries that I want to ask God about.

            I wrote this in Memoriam of the 30^th Anniversary of Lisa’s “Heaven Day”.

                                   

                                                                                                                        Her Brother,

                                                                                                                        Eric E. Durnan

 

 

                     

 

Et tu, History Channel?

            I don’t watch much television. I really don’t. When I drove semi for 10 years, I got more into listening to talk radio. Watching television is what truckers who had “nothing better to do” did. I always had something to do, somewhere to go. I got out of the habit of watching television and to this day, I really don’t miss it. However, there is one channel who has shows that I can become addicted to, and it’s the History Channel.

            I used to purchase cable, mainly for the kids. It became too expensive and I shut it off. There were too many garbage channels to be paying that kind of price. The History Channel was showing their videos online, and with my high speed connection, it worked well for me. For the past several years, I get all my television enjoyment from watching a couple of shows over on the History Channel website. That is – until recently.

            I also used to watch Deadliest Catch on Discovery.  They don’t show their videos online, so I have lost touch with the show. I don’t miss it. Will you find me buying their merchandise? Why would I? I have no connection to the show now. However, I have stayed in touch with the shows on the History Channel, and I would purchase a “Choot ‘Em” sticker for my pickup if I ever came across one. (I like Troy Landry!) I have noticed that starting this spring, History is putting everything of theirs behind a quasi-paywall. If you don’t have a cable provider, you’re out of luck. I guess it wasn’t good enough that I sat through all of their commercials while I watched the shows. I can’t tell you how many times I watched Eddie Money sing, “I’ve got – two tickets to paradise!” in his fictional travel agency. It seemed to be one of the more popular commercials shown on the History Channel.

            This has disappointed me a lot. I cannot lie. However, I got weaned off of Deadliest Catch, I’ll wean myself off of the History Channel shows as well. I mean this with true sincerity. I thought the History Channel was better than this. Maybe they faced pressure from the cable companies who said, “Hey – by you guys showing your content to anyone – we can’t make money here!”?

            If History ever reverses itself, I may come back – that is – unless I get to the point where I don’t care anymore. It’s quite human to learn to live without something after awhile. It’s also quite human to know when someone is jerking your chain – and not wanting to go back to them after that.

World Kitchen (Corelle) utilizes the absolute worst shipping method!

 

            If you use World Kitchen to order anything Corelle, Pyrex, or Corningware, you need to know one thing. They use FedEx SmartPost to ship your items to you. I tried to write a review of some plates that I ordered from them and surprise, surprise – it said that they would reject any reviews that mention shipping. I wonder why?

            Corelle makes wonderful products, but you’ve got to be kidding me – FedEx SmartPost??? The old Pony Express could have hand delivered an item from St. Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento – using nearly dead horses – faster than FedEx SmartPost could deliver it.

            FedEx SmartPost is the absolute worst shipping method I have ever experienced. If I had known that World Kitchen was going to use them, I would have shopped elsewhere. I think that is why they won’t let you comment about their shipping. I guess I’ll wait and see how many pieces my plates come in.                                                

Shame on you World Kitchen! Bad form!

Enough with the use of “coward” to describe these devils!

     

 

 

 

 

  President Obama on Boston bombing: "This is a heinous and cowardly act"; "the FBI are investigating it as an act of terrorism."
 

 

            Here we go again saying things just because they sound good and not because they make any sense. Whoever bombed Boston, along with all the other people who have done heinous things over the years are not cowards. Has anyone looked up the definition of coward lately? The same holds true for those who call people who commit suicide cowards. Have you ever stared down the wrong end of a gun barrel? I can’t stand looking down the wrong end of an unloaded single-shot shotgun with the breach wide open. I can’t imagine what it would be like knowing it was loaded. A coward wouldn’t have the nerve to stare down a loaded weapon and pull the trigger. I know damned well that I just couldn’t do it. I’m a coward. In this instance, it’s a good thing.

            I understand wanting to condemn the people who do these horrible acts. I understand wanting to call them names without cursing. I understand that you want to do the equivalent of calling them a “little boy” or “little girl”. I understand wanting to sound “eloquent”. However, you also need to sound intelligent while doing so.

            These people were brazen. They had gall and audacity. My grandfather went and shot people in WWII and he was called a hero. I’ve sat here thinking about that. I don’t think I could go out there and shoot people. I’m afraid that I would be a coward.

            These people obviously feel like they are in some sort of war. Instead of calling them cowards, it’s our job to find them, punish and destroy them, and set an example for others who would think of doing the same.

               So, the people who did this aren’t out there taking credit for it. Does that surprise anyone? Is that cowardly because they want to stay anonymous? Our very own Revolutionary War soldiers were called cowards by the British because they hid behind trees and fought instead of standing in the open making themselves targets like the British did. Who was smart and who was dumb? Our side won. The British still refer to our guys as rebels. (And for the record, the only difference between a patriot and a rebel is who gets to write the history books).

            This doesn’t make what happened right. It isn’t. I condemn taking innocent life. It also doesn’t justify saying things that aren’t true for the sake of saying them. Call a spade a spade.

            Whoever did this was evil. They had the gall and the audacity to take a harmless event and turn it into a bloodbath. They took innocent lives forever, including the life of at least one innocent child. They maimed many others for life physically, and they affected so many more mentally. What’s wrong with stating it like that? I think it’s much better than throwing the “coward” word around out of context.  

 

            Maybe if we quit calling them cowards, they’ll quit trying to prove us wrong.

 

 

Kudos to Bunn

          I try to buy American when and where I can. When I had a few extra dollars in 2009, I was in the market for a new coffee maker. I did some research and decided upon the Bunn GRX model. It was about $100 from Walmart. While not all of the parts are American made, the company headquarters is in America, and it’s assembled right here in the U.S.A. Not all Bunn coffee makers are assembled in America anymore, but the GRX model is.

          The coffee pot ran flawlessly, that is, until a few weeks ago. It just up and died. My wife had used it to brew a pot of coffee, and when she went back to get another cup, she noticed the warmer switch light was out. She thought maybe the little light had died, but we come to find out that the entire coffee maker was dead. It wouldn’t heat water inside anymore either.

          I figured that either a switch had burned out, or maybe an internal fuse had given up its ghost. So, not wanting to throw this coffee maker away, I went to the Bunn website for research. I was hoping I could diagnose the problem and maybe order the parts. These GRX coffee makers come with a 3 year warranty and mine was on year 4.

          I couldn’t find any info about my problem. I saw a link for Bunn support, so I filled that form out, with my coffee makers date code, and description of the problem, and asked Bunn if there was a fuse that could have blown, and I asked them if I could order the parts from them.

          The response that I got was totally unexpected. They sent me an e-mail that stated that my coffee maker was out of warranty, but only slightly. They said that they had ordered me a brand new coffee maker and that it would be on its way. They said that all they wanted in return was for me to ship my old unit back to them at my cost so they could inspect it, and improve their product.

          I couldn’t believe it! Now that’s how a company should operate! I’m not saying this is how they will treat you if your coffee maker is out of warranty, but they easily could have told me to pound sand.

          I got the new coffee maker sent to the door by UPS. It was a brand new model too, not a refurbished one. They told me to keep the carafe and the brew funnel where you put the filter and grounds. They only wanted the main unit returned. I shipped it back to them Priority Mail at a cost of about $14.

          When companies like Bunn do things right like this, I feel I should let people know. If you want a good coffee maker that helps the American economy, buy this Bunn. They stand behind their product. Kudos, Bunn! I used to buy generic coffee filters, but it’s Bunn from now on in. You made me a believer in your company and a lifelong customer!

 

The WCF Courier doesn't give the "full story".......

              
              Have you been noticing the WCF Courier pushing it’s 99¢ “Unlimited Digital Access” lately? They’ve been pushing it on their Facebook page and on their website.

               I am a subscriber to the Green Gazette. It’s $9.99 per month, and you can view the electronic edition to their paper. I thought I would take a chance and switch to the Courier and see how their service works. It always seems like the Courier covers this area of Iowa a little better than the Gazette.

               When you go to the WCF Courier website, you’ll see a link at the top of the page for their e-edition. This is the WCF Courier equivalent of the CR Gazette’s Green Edition. At the right of the page is login information, but right above it, is the advertising that you see at the top of this post.

               It says, Special Offer, 99¢ for “Unlimited Digital Access” for 30 days, and it’s something like $7 per month after that. Hey, what a bargain! That is until you realize that you do not get their e-edition with “Unlimited Digital Access”. So what exactly does “Unlimited Digital Access” mean when it comes to the Courier?

               From their own website:

 

Digital Only 99¢ Special

1st month, introductory rate ($6.95 after)

If you are not a current newspaper subscriber, you can now test drive a WCFCourier.com subscription for only 99¢! As an online-only subscriber, you will have unlimited access to our premium content such as breaking news, local, state and regional news, sports, weather, obituaries and more.

We hope you continue to enjoy the quality journalism produced by The Courier.

Purchase!              

Print discount 99¢ Special

1st month, introductory rate ($1.95 after)

As a newspaper subscriber, you can now test drive a WCFCourier.com subscription for only 99¢! As an online & print subscriber, you will have unlimited access to our premium content such as breaking news, local, state and regional news, sports, weather, obituaries and more.

We hope you continue to enjoy the quality journalism produced by The Courier.

Purchase!  

             So, for digital only, you get premium content such as breaking news, local, state, and regional news, sports, weather, obituaries, and more. It sounds a lot like what you’d find in the newspaper. Aha! But the devil is in the details, or in this case, lack thereof.
             What I found out the hard way was that what you are in fact getting, is access to their website where they put up “select” news articles and obituaries. It’s the same thing that the Gazette and many other newspapers give you for free.

              Listen, that’s fine that the Courier wants to charge you for access to their website. However, the way that they are marketing it is pretty shady. They make is appear as though you get the e-edition as part of the “Unlimited Digital Access”. The fact of the matter is, you only have LIMITED digital access, as the e-edition is not part of the package. This is not explicit in their advertising, and the way they advertise it on their e-edition page makes this matter of fact quite convoluted to the average consumer.

               I called and complained to the Courier. Their operator made me feel stupid as she acted incredulous that I would actually think the e-edition would be part of the “Unlimited Digital Access” package. I mentioned to her that I thought it was shady advertising because it was not explicitly mentioned that it was not included. I told her that “unlimited” generally means “unlimited” unless there is fine print, and in this case, there is none.

               I also pointed out to her that the CR Gazette includes the digital edition as part of their package to which she retorted, “This is not the Gazette.” How painfully obvious!

               I have a lot of respect for the WCF Courier when it comes to journalism. However, this episode really upset me. How can I trust a news source that uses shady tactics to drive revenue?

               I asked the lady at the Courier if I could get a refund and she said that I couldn’t. The best she could do was cancel my subscription. I asked her if I would at least be entitled to the month that I had paid for. She said that by me asking for it to be canceled, it would take effect as soon as some other department got the order.

               I filed a complaint with the Attorney General of Iowa over this. It’s only 99¢, but how many people are they doing this to? I told the Attorney General in my letter that I didn’t care about the 99¢. All I wanted to see was the Courier change how they were advertising.

               Well, today I got a check for 99¢ from the Courier. I guess the Attorney General must have contacted them. However, I went to their website and noticed that they are still advertising the same as they have been.
               If you like the Courier enough to pay $7 per month for just their website, God bless you. As long as you know what you’re getting for your money, then I have no problem with anything. Just be informed – if you take the Courier up on this 99¢ offer, it WILL NOT include the e-edition. That’s extra – a lot extra. The Courier requires 3 months of payment for the e-edition, it does not include the website, and it’s about $15 per month. Don’t quote me on the price, but it's somewhere in that ballpark. The lady who refused to refund my money tried selling me the e-edition – which I think is the whole reason behind the shady advertising in the first place. 
 

After the sting has subsided…….

               It’s been a little over a week since Grandpa passed away. While the initial sting has faded, the large hole left in my life is still very apparent. I have spent the first 37 years of my life with my grandfather in it. In some ways, he filled a void left by my own father, especially in more recent years. Grandpa was there to listen to me. He would give me advice, and always had time for me. If I ever went to see him, no matter how he felt, he would roll out the red carpet for me. He took the time to learn my children’s names. He didn’t do it because he felt he had to, but rather because he wanted to. He always told me how well behaved my children were, and complimented me on my parenting. He knew what each of my kids were like and always took the time to talk to them and of course, tease them the way Grandpa was famous for.           

          He wasn’t like this when he was younger. I remember a time when Grandpa was very salty, had little time for kids or grandkids, and wasn’t so pleasant. With age and infirmity, he was humbled. The man he would become because of these things was wonderful.                    

          As I sat here this morning, I was flipping through my genealogy information and I was looking at all of these names & dates. Every name in my file was somebody’s parent, grandparent, spouse, friend, child - you name it. I sit here and think of all the gaping holes that each one of these people left in the lives of those who loved them. I also think of the gaping holes that were left in their lives when their loved ones died. Death is a part of life. There is no escaping that reality.           

          So what can be done? Well, we cannot defeat death in our mortal state. Nobody here on earth will live in their corporeal body forever. We must accept that we will all feel the sting of death and loss throughout our life until we ourselves die, and leave a hole in someone else’s life. The best we can do is cherish those around us while we are blessed to have them with us. We can also live a life full of giving, kindness, and compassion. The seeds we sow today will be the fruit we reap tomorrow. We can also live our lives in a way that honors those loved ones who lived before us. We can try to be the best people we can possibly be and make the memory of our loved ones an honorable one.