Mother and Father Government Run Amok e-Mailbox1 e-Mailbox 2 It's Been Said Must Read Poems Picture This Quickies Say What? This & That Thoughts Xtra The way back home. Send this page from You Don't Say to a friend. For those using Microsoft Internet Explorer: Select the "Mail" icon at the top of this window, then "Send Page." For those using Netscape: Select "File" at the top of this window, then "Send Page."

My Mother and Father It was July 1948 and the family was at "the cottage" when I took these pictures of my parents. My grandmother and her brother jointly owned the cottage, which overlooks Lake Michigan and was built in 1899, and my family (Mom, Dad, Jim, and I) would spend several weeks there each year, often sharing the space with my mother's sister's family of five. A series of steps led from the front door down through some trees and ground cover onto a wooden walkway that was built to project out above the sand dunes. At the end of the walkway was a landing where a couple of benches provided a spectacular vantage point for views of the lake, and that's where I took this picture. The benches and wooden walkway are no longer, having suffered the ravages of time, weather, and shifting sands. It became a tradition each year to take a hike north from the cottage a couple of miles to "The Pier," a concrete structure at the mouth of the Kalamazoo River, and to walk out to the end where a red concrete structure had been erected with warning lights and a fog horn. In this photo, Mom and Dad and our dog, Smokey, pose for my camera, a Brownie Reflex, as I recall. This is one of my favorite pictures of Mom and Dad. They both seem so relaxed, comfortable, and happy. It was a warm, sunny day. The lake was relatively calm and a bright blue. All seemed right with the world. I took the pictures at right during the summer of 1962, also at the cottage. I remember the day well. In the morning, a huge, dense bank of fog had rolled in from the lake, and it was impossible to see more than 10 or 15 feet in any direction. I thought the unusual conditions were perfect for taking some unique photographs, so I asked Mom and Dad to join me on the landing where I took these slides. I don't remember a day prior or since with a thicker serving of fog. Mom died in 1964 and Dad in 1985. They were good parents: religious, hard-working, honest, caring. They were fun-loving, dedicated to each other, and I don't remember them ever complaining. I don't remember them arguing, not once. Mom was a stay-at-home "house-wife", but she worked harder than lots of women who work outside the home. She kept the house spotless and performed magic in the kitchen. Her meals were delicious! And she derived great satisfaction from meeting the challenges of raising children and taking care of the homefront. Dad was an attorney. Probate and estate cases were his specialty, and his passion was helping people. Toward the end of his career he was upset his law firm was so focused on money-making. He entered the law profession to serve the needs of his clients. Sure, it was important for him to earn a living, but he didn't feel it necessary to earn a lavish living. The pace seemed a little slower back then. People seemed more thoughtful. A kind word was more frequently expressed. A smile and friendly greeting were common occurrences. Wholesome! That's the word I'm looking for. It describes my parents, it describes the era, I believe, when I was growing up, at least in my community. And I think it describes the environment in which my kids grew up, too. But now it seems a coarseness has seeped into the daily dialog (just read what people are writing to each other on the Internet), a roughness has appeared in attitudes and expectations, an incivility has emerged in our day-to-day lives. The values of my parents appear today to be unpopular in many quarters. A boundless permissiveness rules. What was wholesome when I was a kid is now "old fashioned" and what was unthinkable back then is now standard practice. I shall forever be grateful to my parents for their wisdom, their guidance, their noble example, and their rich wholesomeness. The way back home.