tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76807988652042659662024-03-13T02:27:13.885-07:00Growing Up ChristianThis blog serves as the photo section for the book. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-15357580075377792852016-01-06T06:37:00.001-08:002018-12-04T19:22:34.868-08:00Jeremiah Williams and Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My father, Ben Williams, Captain of the Greenville College Military Company in 1917. Here's the page out of the G.C. 1917 VISTA year book, Ben Williams at lower left.<br />
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My cousin, Burt Williams, sent me this picture of my Dad's family when they gathered in 1936 for his mother's funeral in Pinellas, Florida.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOjM9wmzI2lxAauB5ulxn2Kcxum8jOJPLPZ1r7bTTBdVVuZJjso9zwWHnkNI95fwHtjI5gL1H7BQ8S_a4xzjeRltyJzPNEkmKyx22EsuM-tYDktpenI-xw1MrRR0NMuplbcxlHHjGdGM/s1600/Burton+w_H_Truman_NPPA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOjM9wmzI2lxAauB5ulxn2Kcxum8jOJPLPZ1r7bTTBdVVuZJjso9zwWHnkNI95fwHtjI5gL1H7BQ8S_a4xzjeRltyJzPNEkmKyx22EsuM-tYDktpenI-xw1MrRR0NMuplbcxlHHjGdGM/s640/Burton+w_H_Truman_NPPA.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second from Left, Burton Williams, with President Truman and other National Press Photographer's Assn. officers. (see caption above). Uncle Burton was one of the two visual media professionals (and Catholics) on my Dad's side of the family I knew nothing about until I was in my 30's. Yet today, the NPPA gives out the Burt Williams Award to press photographers who have been in the profession for 40 years. (My thanks, again, to my cousin, and Burt Williams' grandson, Burt Williams, for sending me this scan from "A Voice Is Born" a book about the founding and early years of the NPPA by Claude Cookman (1985).</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-37281935994239694442015-12-27T16:39:00.002-08:002015-12-27T16:41:21.668-08:00Bob Kenney<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My book does not do my nephew Bob justice. But his kids in 2015 at Christmas did. Here's a Facebook Image of Bob with new PJ's. This says more than the book could ever explain.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-8529618665764844942015-07-24T08:37:00.000-07:002015-09-26T18:56:32.042-07:00PICTURE GALLERY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The piano was not my forte.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pictures are being added weekly. The topics are more or less in chronological order as they appear in the book. Use the <b><span style="color: #38761d;"><u><a href="http://growingupchristiansw.blogspot.com/p/table-fo-contents.html">Table of Contents</a></u></span></b> to "picture along" with your read.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">PHOTOSHOP WARNING: I photoshop almost everything....a little. I do not add limbs, eyes, or ears, but I have been known to obliterate dust spots and pimples.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-81268932679445021852000-02-01T09:19:00.001-08:002021-09-07T16:28:17.532-07:00Edith Willobee (1880-1962)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Edith Jane (Flesher) Willobee was m</b>y maternal grandmother. She lived a "Harrowing" life, which is the title of a novel I've outlined about her life. This picture was taken in 1907 (age 27) as she prepared to leave for India the first time. She was purposed and determined. Two years later Ross Willobee follows her there. They married in 1911 in India.</div>
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This was a fund raising photo of the Willobee family in India taken perhaps a year before Ross and David's death in 1921. (L-R) Ruth (my mother), Edith, David, Hope (my Aunt Hopie), Ross.</div>
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The caption, written by Ruth in later years, reads, <i>"Graves of Ross Van Willobee and David Allen (son) at Chowki, India. On right Edith Willobee wife of Ross, on left is daughter Ruth (Willobee) Williams."</i> To bury her loved ones, Edith tore down the doors and window shutters on their bungalow, which Ross had recently installed, to make coffins. She had to get special permission from the local Raj because Indians do not bury their dead.</div>
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This take around 1924 (L-R) Hope, Edith, Ruth. Shortly after Edith's husband, Ross, and their little David (2 years) suddenly died, Edith had a nervous breakdown and spent 6-months bedfast. One day she swung out of bed and ordered up a ox-cart caravan to evangelize the surrounding villages. To promote that work she sent this picture to America seeking financial support for the project. </div>
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Upon rising from her six-month long sick-bed following Ross and David's death, Edith mounted this ox-cart caravan to evangelize and start churches in the surrounding villages. She did this for six years before bringing her girls to America to attend school. Edith is on the far left, and the girls are just to the left of the dog, whom a Tiger later had for dinner. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJB5I6Ga-_F8QIfYZ1AD9kZ30SHQdAx_kYLKl8AhWgGS9c3spOU6ULGHZF1KY8MSLI34eowMyi7TDyk-87Jf3nymFBITZLojk6JDl8qh-l0ObsUZSb6B2DwHx7i-SO381vW9Mi6ILswE/s2802/Edith+Willobee%2527s+Fig+Tree20210907_0001+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="827" data-original-width="2802" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJB5I6Ga-_F8QIfYZ1AD9kZ30SHQdAx_kYLKl8AhWgGS9c3spOU6ULGHZF1KY8MSLI34eowMyi7TDyk-87Jf3nymFBITZLojk6JDl8qh-l0ObsUZSb6B2DwHx7i-SO381vW9Mi6ILswE/w636-h187/Edith+Willobee%2527s+Fig+Tree20210907_0001+copy.jpg" width="636" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Edith Willobee's Fig Tree Healing. This picture and the caption on the back mostly in Edith's handwriting tells the story from 1925 while Edith and the girls were traveling in the countryside preaching and establishing churches. This was years after Ross had died of Black Water Fever, a variant of malaria fever. The caption reads with Ruth's editorial notes in [brackets]. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[India - healed of malaria fever in 1925] Precious children here is the Fig Tree under which mama met God that never to be forgotten nite when He healed Darling Hopie (Hope Willobee Winke). Then I went in the tent layed down on my little bed and the dear Lord said to me "Why not Ussie"? [Ruth Willobee Williams] I says "Yes Lord" and Ussie was healed. Thank God. [Edit Willobee]</i></div>
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Edith Willobee's 1927 passport. Pictured is my mother, Ruth (15) on the left, and my Aunt, Hope (12) on the right. Their journey from central India by ox-cart, train, ferry, steamship...to America is documented in a diary that has become the basis of a future historical pice of fiction I call HARROWING. I'd have to dumb it down for Hollywood to accept it.</div>
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Edit retired from missionary service in 1942 and came to live with her daughters, dodging U-Boats as they sailed across the South Atlantic without any lights aboard at night. When Ruth got married, all three women moved in with the widower, Ben Williams.</div>
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Although she wasn't very excited about her daughter's marriage to a widower, 18-years Ruth's senior, when a little boy came along, Edith was eager to hold him, pray for him, and tell him stories that put all kinds of ideas into his little head. For 5 months old, I seem big and restless. It was 1947.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0skak3pnl9pzZeeV8laKGjo-LUFlWiU44gkH7FCYV5SSh3JBuLwNoTs5OaNPFEfve0qa59iiQoEqzwFaA9-n-nL2kWFHnnMsmtDkoHaT_Qx4IfVnVqP6m1PuOIUFX3dG3SjhmLWoGkg/s1600/YMCA-Letter-2UP.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0skak3pnl9pzZeeV8laKGjo-LUFlWiU44gkH7FCYV5SSh3JBuLwNoTs5OaNPFEfve0qa59iiQoEqzwFaA9-n-nL2kWFHnnMsmtDkoHaT_Qx4IfVnVqP6m1PuOIUFX3dG3SjhmLWoGkg/s640/YMCA-Letter-2UP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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I find it interesting that the first hotel we stayed at was "Bob's" Hotel...and that the salutation listed everyone in our whole family and then closed with "...and the whole family," as if we were on a vaudeville tour with suitcases full of ventriloquist dummies. </div>
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Over the next eight years, Edith slowly developed Parkinson's Disease, and in 1955, Ruth and Hope put her in a nursing home where we visited every Sunday for seven years until her death in 1962.</div>
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Even lying disabled in her bed, her eyes were clear and blue as she'd look up at Hope Ellen (pictured), and me (with the camera) and say, "Hope Ellen and Stanley, I'm praying for you." Today, we are the beneficiaries of those prayers that continue yet today. I imagine that for seven years she laid on her back and did nothing but pray for the people she ministered to in India, and for us. I am convinced that I am the recipient of God's love shown <i>"to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments."</i> (Exodus 20:5) Thank you, Grandma!</div>
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<i>Missionary to India 1908-1942. EDITH J. WILLOBEE. 1880-1962. </i>Edith's grave marker in the Roselawn Cemetery, Berkley, MI. Right across Woodward Ave. from Roselawn's entrance is a Catholic basilica "Shine of the Little Flower" which renowned as a Catholic landmark. As a kid we drove by the shine a thousand times, but never darkened its doors. After becoming Catholic, on my way to work, I attended early morning Mass at Shine for years.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-59483245117132334021996-10-01T13:59:00.000-07:002015-09-13T11:40:03.711-07:00Ben & Ruth Williams (my Mom & Dad)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>A GREAT ANTAGONIST.</b> In the book I write a good deal about how a boy could not have had a better antagonist for a mother. That's putting it nicely. She was mean. But she feared God and I never thought she hated me. There was another side to her however, that I didn't get to know until I began looking through the pictures and letters Mom and Dad left behind. Here's just a snapshot.<br />
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<b>HOW DID WE GET HERE? </b>As I've tried to explain in the book, my sister Hope and I never saw Mom and Dad express any physical affection in front of us. Neither in public or in the privacy of our home did we ever see them hold hands, lock lips, or passionately embrace. Just a light platonic hug, or peck on the cheek now and then when one of them would come or go. We wondered where we came from. </div>
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But there was documentation that somehow assured us that indeed we were possible.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTb7a7JrPayZVFOuvod0fK-iKLGVUDor2qm3hruBd5UnqSuIP7HhGaoeI8xlX9YajiOnALcNDQ9KSLtCpVxlqf5YcgyBcdwJvcKc2fhtU6R40gFn5tW7NL4_FzxNx0TlHovp8w3mB85Vk/s1600/Ben-%2526-Ruth%2527s-Wedding-Invitation72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTb7a7JrPayZVFOuvod0fK-iKLGVUDor2qm3hruBd5UnqSuIP7HhGaoeI8xlX9YajiOnALcNDQ9KSLtCpVxlqf5YcgyBcdwJvcKc2fhtU6R40gFn5tW7NL4_FzxNx0TlHovp8w3mB85Vk/s640/Ben-%2526-Ruth%2527s-Wedding-Invitation72.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">There was this, but notice... no address for the wedding, and the recipient was clearly not invited to the wedding at least. </td></tr>
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And there was this. A honeymoon suite for $7.50 at the most exclusive hotel in Dearborn built and owned by Henry Ford.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">And who keeps track of expenses on a honeymoon? </td></tr>
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According to my Dad's accounting, the trip cost $57.63, they drove 692 miles (spending only $7.53 on gasoline and oil), and ate only two meals. Perhaps they were distracted by the scenery.<br />
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<b>UPON THIER RETURN. </b>Look carefully at the expressions of my mom and dad and her mother. This was taken about two weeks after their honeymoon, just before Christmas 1945, and the Edith is still not too happy about the arrangement. (Remember, Edith wore "black" at her daughter's wedding.) There's a Christmas tree off the screen to the right. The assumption is that Hope, Ruth's sister, took the picture.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsm1P1Qe7Qzunz6fOsrKib8fYauvjIIrZqHAbr8HKFuPaa1Y0qJjOM0F17Qu-D0PosRffCwPIzb5Mojk7vMbLgY2zFxxZhYThIjStPtyV_nYY2QIK-rw7u0VcxRymCph2ZDn51Fac8cuo/s1600/BenRuthEdithCouch600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsm1P1Qe7Qzunz6fOsrKib8fYauvjIIrZqHAbr8HKFuPaa1Y0qJjOM0F17Qu-D0PosRffCwPIzb5Mojk7vMbLgY2zFxxZhYThIjStPtyV_nYY2QIK-rw7u0VcxRymCph2ZDn51Fac8cuo/s640/BenRuthEdithCouch600w.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Newly weds, Ben & Ruth Williams share a secret as mother-in-law and mom, Edith, looks on. I'm the glimmer in my parent's eyes. The facial expressions are priceless...a caption contest would be in order. </span></td></tr>
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I've been trying to wrap my head around my Dad's thinking at the time. A widower for five years he was 18-years older than his young bride, then 33. The deal was that if Ruth married him, mother-in-law Edith and sister Hope came to live with him. At least that was the arrangement when I came to live with them 15-months later.<br />
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Imagine their thinking that it might be fun to have children around. Little did they realize what kind of fun their first child (me) would bring into their lives. But as their smiles hint, they were determined to find out.<br />
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That's when it all started.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWxGvBKaw2GchWZAQDe3MgCgBOyh-aL9VdrsWT-YXCS1MBKdHpKeVPnRIiMhJ37l5Z84EAGAP5rVZNt9_HnIjTQxOJT3kBunn3Vx23u2Q47bzT8cNrWjkdAVdOjDAFKz4zwV1j-vkKIY/s1600/RuthStan-8days-600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWxGvBKaw2GchWZAQDe3MgCgBOyh-aL9VdrsWT-YXCS1MBKdHpKeVPnRIiMhJ37l5Z84EAGAP5rVZNt9_HnIjTQxOJT3kBunn3Vx23u2Q47bzT8cNrWjkdAVdOjDAFKz4zwV1j-vkKIY/s640/RuthStan-8days-600.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I came near April Fool's day 15 months after the above smirks.</td></tr>
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Yes, Mom and Dad truly loved and cared for each other. But nothing good is ever easy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhLyp6Vz4qe8s1aNIxbFoXcaBXfrUdsAnwxHHPetLnFDn8O3-fPngP70BO7u9mnVxadh0DMmrhKI2wUaCp-yzqTs-3mrRR0j1eK-olOzKIiSHrhIv1z2hxAXG7bH0Vg3JyxJA_ncobx4/s1600/December+1947+%2528Stan+8+mon%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhLyp6Vz4qe8s1aNIxbFoXcaBXfrUdsAnwxHHPetLnFDn8O3-fPngP70BO7u9mnVxadh0DMmrhKI2wUaCp-yzqTs-3mrRR0j1eK-olOzKIiSHrhIv1z2hxAXG7bH0Vg3JyxJA_ncobx4/s320/December+1947+%2528Stan+8+mon%2529.jpg" width="202" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eight-months into the journey.<br />
Parents had great posture in 1947. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFoxeqbyZgF3dolOYZNr3Jc8BKnuzbitKprYRrMgJFkaFAjQO-Ws1paepJHd6eANT4qlhTcVPgcKxCnZDb1ulyMAV1Ojk_p_a8xmOJcZ8TiL1QP9wYxYne7lmrEseQqkAU7zfWaEIoNY/s1600/BRW-9-29-1948-Det-Tribune-500w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFoxeqbyZgF3dolOYZNr3Jc8BKnuzbitKprYRrMgJFkaFAjQO-Ws1paepJHd6eANT4qlhTcVPgcKxCnZDb1ulyMAV1Ojk_p_a8xmOJcZ8TiL1QP9wYxYne7lmrEseQqkAU7zfWaEIoNY/s320/BRW-9-29-1948-Det-Tribune-500w.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detroit Tribune Photo, 1948</td></tr>
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(Right B&W) Mild-mannered Sealtest Dairy Safety Director by day, mild-mannered dad by night. He was steady his whole life. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTqJyAzndNNv2-1oBMCjgO_9xH7YIopT90LNMY0uqiXFT6YnL9I903pNhBqyA_iqwKBvK2Bgsgy5hOrdfRyzBSv2vHMHU5jX_iLpkcSzZZHzJDSdwlq4FolnNm5jz5_MYnLQKsocb4e8/s1600/Dad%2527s+Reference+Passage+Bible+600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTqJyAzndNNv2-1oBMCjgO_9xH7YIopT90LNMY0uqiXFT6YnL9I903pNhBqyA_iqwKBvK2Bgsgy5hOrdfRyzBSv2vHMHU5jX_iLpkcSzZZHzJDSdwlq4FolnNm5jz5_MYnLQKsocb4e8/s320/Dad%2527s+Reference+Passage+Bible+600w.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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(Below) Benj. R. Williams' Reference Passage Bible for the New Testament. Dad's KJV Bibles were frequently rebound. He used them extensively for reference in preparing his Sunday School lessons that he taught for decades at the Ferndale Free Methodist Church. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tVHm97INQpdFFE73i61Nxo1f2digZ6QP5uU1Xd-9JgsvLVsPXS9tOpVAJzRLnt1ZxgnzSuPEAtHW-6RGbBdcLchmzLwgfMR3cEyv55Hg0mXd4PSPyqF47pwtBITQjYX2CODBWRBqAyA/s1600/Dad%2527s-notes-Sonship-600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tVHm97INQpdFFE73i61Nxo1f2digZ6QP5uU1Xd-9JgsvLVsPXS9tOpVAJzRLnt1ZxgnzSuPEAtHW-6RGbBdcLchmzLwgfMR3cEyv55Hg0mXd4PSPyqF47pwtBITQjYX2CODBWRBqAyA/s640/Dad%2527s-notes-Sonship-600w.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Above are some of hand written notes in his S.S. Teacher's Quarterly. Ironically enough, during my childhood and teen years, Dad took his lessons from what was then known as the Sunday School Times, a monthly publication that provided lesson outlines based on the universal church calendar of readings, which non-Evangelical churches (like the Catholics) used to ensure an even coverage of the Bible and topics through a three-year cycle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhJp7pAzZ-NBJz5KFOvgXw0mA8Wf4BCGOGM6L33pJxRwsDw2id3QnYmnxi9dSBUz0anvqrqAlUcRANJUU2RYCQVtgpACS5OVFU3BT_G_zGN_SO2HVJCSrjm6o17NgYOsY_Ys3w_49B2A/s1600/Christmas+1953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhJp7pAzZ-NBJz5KFOvgXw0mA8Wf4BCGOGM6L33pJxRwsDw2id3QnYmnxi9dSBUz0anvqrqAlUcRANJUU2RYCQVtgpACS5OVFU3BT_G_zGN_SO2HVJCSrjm6o17NgYOsY_Ys3w_49B2A/s640/Christmas+1953.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas 1952 (Benjamin, Stanley, Ruth, & Hope Ellen)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafLa9iL-H9YDBYhtEObgVsPif9UFz29dTpDBTgQIj_1MnENSjdNh0YXbVT4nlWJihWo_yk63i8g3ER6aNvin6EHzNjnfqPFgntfGlYFPgymTSMjT38nUoQ28oT-7OHJUNMOu5RohpEkc/s1600/Lucile-Stan-Kids-Combo600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafLa9iL-H9YDBYhtEObgVsPif9UFz29dTpDBTgQIj_1MnENSjdNh0YXbVT4nlWJihWo_yk63i8g3ER6aNvin6EHzNjnfqPFgntfGlYFPgymTSMjT38nUoQ28oT-7OHJUNMOu5RohpEkc/s640/Lucile-Stan-Kids-Combo600w.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Memorial Day 1988, when my girls were in their teens and Josh was contemplating how he was going to eventually grow taller than all of us, I persuaded them and their mother to hunt down my Dad's first wife's grave. By the look on Trudy and Josh's faces, this was a thrilling afternoon for them. I got them to do the dirty work of cleaning of decades of sod from Lucile's grave and placing flowers over the top. That Lucile's maiden name was my Dad's first name was always a romantic recollection. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy6Ji5TnZRAFxJqs808iJ0nRhLYlH4mIGBhWuQq0heGXsl5_hCfuC2rPmT_rNLDeIsmaMT4n1FLhQhlXf-BZ0hNZbyQvuWKN25H1qaxcSY6TLK7tEYZn9TEl2f4dY1TVCMfiaPse5tlQ/s1600/Ruth-Ben-1981-600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy6Ji5TnZRAFxJqs808iJ0nRhLYlH4mIGBhWuQq0heGXsl5_hCfuC2rPmT_rNLDeIsmaMT4n1FLhQhlXf-BZ0hNZbyQvuWKN25H1qaxcSY6TLK7tEYZn9TEl2f4dY1TVCMfiaPse5tlQ/s320/Ruth-Ben-1981-600w.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben & Ruth 1981 - the troubles are now<br />
behind them and the camera.<br />
All smiles again.</td></tr>
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(Left) In 1981 when they came to visit us in Michigan, Dad was 87 and Mom was 69. They had been married 36 years and that smirk was still on their faces. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Hq00RoAwk-LQll9U-6N0OYKEyl1LwYAXaaQuVTIi3t6eWWBd19QHOmcZRR1tpzbF47Hw69bL5tJT5FLJsdrtSe8MxE_IdBOX0E7Eblhi7U7EapyLp2R_CBga0f4bUIyCj96pUenZoN4/s1600/BenRuthPhotoBoothFINAL4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Hq00RoAwk-LQll9U-6N0OYKEyl1LwYAXaaQuVTIi3t6eWWBd19QHOmcZRR1tpzbF47Hw69bL5tJT5FLJsdrtSe8MxE_IdBOX0E7Eblhi7U7EapyLp2R_CBga0f4bUIyCj96pUenZoN4/s640/BenRuthPhotoBoothFINAL4.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
(Right) Seven years later at 94 Dad was still trying to get Ruth to loosen up, but, alas... his behavior was so inappropriate, even in their own dinning room with the curtains drawn. She loved it but could not crack a smile. Less than a year later Dad passed on while taking his after-lunch nap. He had raked the leaves that morning.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">(Below) After Dad died, and although she suffered from dementia </span><span style="text-align: center;">and would get lost, and forget many things, I was always </span><span style="text-align: center;">amazed that Mom could sight read any hymn you put in </span><span style="text-align: center;">front of her...and sing the words as she played. But she </span><span style="text-align: center;">would never touch popular music, or the Mary Poppins </span><span style="text-align: center;">score next to the Christian song book you see in this picture.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-34847849819249908251993-11-01T09:04:00.000-08:002015-09-13T11:32:55.066-07:00A Young Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>THE HOUSES THAT BEN WILLIAMS BUILT</b><br />
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On the left, a 1947 black and white picture of the house that I grew up in. Dad built the house with an upstair's renter's flat in 1922 for his first wife, Gertrude). He also built Gertrude's sister and husband a house next door (in the left image, peaking through the trees). The color picture on the right, care of Google Earth, shows the same architectural features when they were build nearly 100 years ago. Whoever lives there now, thanks for keeping them up. They look great.<br />
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Dad was a gentle and slow, patient man, not given to quick motions. Squirrels liked him...me less so. I had not yet mastered the patience. We fed them peanuts and Ritz Crackers. I'm sure they were fatter than they were suppose to be. Since then, I'm been disappointed that squirrels stay away.<br />
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<b>FIRST BIBLE MEMORY CERTIFICATE.</b> I'm guessing I was 4-5 here (circa 1951-1952). I was big for my age. Looks like I'm wearing one of my Dad's dress shirts. If the collars were any longer I could use them to blow my nose...and probably did. That is definitely one of Dad's ties I'm wearing. I remember it in his collection of wide, wild color silks. Ben Williams was not flamboyant but the ties of the era were. I'm standing in my parent's backyard in Ferndale, MI. It's about noon or early afternoon (shadow being cast to the North, probably June (not many weeds yet in the flower bed). We've just come home from church (the only reason I'd be dressed this way) and I probably had just received, that morning in Sunday School my first Bible Memorization Certificate. Bible Memory work was always a big deal growing up in Evangelicalism...one of the things that the movement had over the larger mainstream faith organizations, like Catholicism. by the time I was in high-school I was memorizing whole chapters of the Bible...which was not an easy thing for a marginal academic. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoRhbU5UYom-Aq9j4uBw9M-M20ym_jzeTMUSNqmKCsLvJcMgoO9WlRaSYVEu3Fzh16qXULs20XmCgTTmZDMRWUd6hW-_QvPliQtwgtNs9aaQzQ2QgqjGW1EIjsamPV9wo58IVV5L6WGdQ/s1600/Ferndale+FM+Memory+Cert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoRhbU5UYom-Aq9j4uBw9M-M20ym_jzeTMUSNqmKCsLvJcMgoO9WlRaSYVEu3Fzh16qXULs20XmCgTTmZDMRWUd6hW-_QvPliQtwgtNs9aaQzQ2QgqjGW1EIjsamPV9wo58IVV5L6WGdQ/s320/Ferndale+FM+Memory+Cert.jpg" width="320" /></a>Here is a scan of the same certificate I'm holding above. Notice that whereas the picture of me above only has one gold seal in the middle, the final certificate has all five placeholder's filled. I never thought I could memorize stuff—my excuse in school for getting bad grades. But my Mom would pull out this certificate (once in a glass frame) and beat me over the head with it (the glass eventually broke on my hard head) to remind me of the alternative. I didn't convince myself until I was in my 50's and wanting to do good in graduate school, when I finally rose to the occasion. There's a favorite Bible verse that I memorized back then, which I often recall yet today, and it continues to guide my life and decisions...and it's one of the reasons I named my only son Joshua. It's God's charge to Joshua when Joshua took over leadership of the Israelites after Moses's passing and just before Joshua led the throng across the Jordan to "attack" Jericho.</div>
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<i>Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your god will be with you wherever you go. (Joshua 1:7-9) </i></blockquote>
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<b>MY FIRST CHORE CHART</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEdZ-200Ac1Rt-AGmAYOwlFMslXVL7iuGqhv009Zpq-RMNAd6gCGaf3Ea_o_Rk48hp7HzgS2a5YSAhg8-BJUWTZEsMvrtwbz_FslCU7U8zy9q9uCGE2eM_PUhpQ7RY0zIm1Yq9aLfJym0/s1600/ChoreChart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEdZ-200Ac1Rt-AGmAYOwlFMslXVL7iuGqhv009Zpq-RMNAd6gCGaf3Ea_o_Rk48hp7HzgS2a5YSAhg8-BJUWTZEsMvrtwbz_FslCU7U8zy9q9uCGE2eM_PUhpQ7RY0zIm1Yq9aLfJym0/s320/ChoreChart.jpg" width="320" /></a>This is the chart I discuss in the book. My Mother was of German heritage. It wasn't the blonde-blue-eyes, it was the regimen. The week after I turned 7 she introduced this document to me, which became part of breakfast, lunch and dinner...if I could be caught. It was either do what it commanded or eat it. In my Mom's strange way of thinking "zero (0)" was a good thing. It mean I had no demerits. That's how it was. She didn't believe in attaboys. She lived for swats. Like I said, she was German. (Dad was English, they sort of balanced out.)</div>
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<b>THE REVERSIBLE DRAGON JACKET WITH A TIGER INSIDE</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUAlupyWL6CVOZUyp7Xa4ECGQYwPmYOJKwUngptbod7p-QBIq1uPDeOJxPe525JllvoIi1IORI_qN87IjMQjNKE4-WhoCyLzOAu-yQRGUX4hI-XpcHhEeaO6Bjwpp6t9LI8G7f6OrJcE/s1600/DragonAlley600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUAlupyWL6CVOZUyp7Xa4ECGQYwPmYOJKwUngptbod7p-QBIq1uPDeOJxPe525JllvoIi1IORI_qN87IjMQjNKE4-WhoCyLzOAu-yQRGUX4hI-XpcHhEeaO6Bjwpp6t9LI8G7f6OrJcE/s640/DragonAlley600w.jpg" width="640" /></a>The Dragon Jacket I describe in the text had a dragon embroidered on the blue outside. This was a picture of the inside I am modeling. I found this slide among my aunt's slides. It was given to me about the same time as we started the chore charts above. And the picture on the right is what I refer to as Tiger or Dragon Alley. The last gate on the right, just before you get to the brick Presbyterian Church at the end, housed the famous empty chicken coops.<br />
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<b>MY FIRST SCHOOL CHART. </b>My second grade teacher, Miss KILL-GORE (my mother loved her name), also introduced a chart of such. The caption reads, "Stanley is very careless when putting his rubbers in the closet..." You can imagine why or read that relative chapter in the book. It took a few years before I realized that the blue ink, penmanship, and paper stock were the same, whether it was my mom's chore chart or Miss KILL-GORE's "Point" chart. Hmmm?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWhdP83D6SZ2I65sxEqzFxJDi2EeT-UWUV3eIgzm4dX9fDKSxhyphenhypheneX6e3SvZm08RPfN3O0pEFZFO74Rzx7P8rMFMHa3t_mdJ67SvFumGklV5Xc98xHSxe7TIeKmim2efll81Cuu-cEPTH8/s1600/MissKilgoreNote2-5inW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWhdP83D6SZ2I65sxEqzFxJDi2EeT-UWUV3eIgzm4dX9fDKSxhyphenhypheneX6e3SvZm08RPfN3O0pEFZFO74Rzx7P8rMFMHa3t_mdJ67SvFumGklV5Xc98xHSxe7TIeKmim2efll81Cuu-cEPTH8/s320/MissKilgoreNote2-5inW.jpg" width="320" /></a>This next chart was for the week after the one above. Notice, unlike the first week, this chart reflects a perfect little guy. Miss KILL-GORE explains, "Stanley had an exceptionally good week." Now there are only two possible explanations for the difference. Key to understanding what the difference might be is the last line of the chart above where Miss KILL-GORE writes, "Perhaps a <u>word or two</u> from you on the subject will help." Dear reader, you can choose which to believe. Either (A) Mom's "word or two" was really convincing to the little devil who was throwing his rubbers in the closet and missing his target, or (B) Miss KILL-GORE finally met my mom and had sympathy on me. </div>
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<b>MY FIRST GET OUT OF SCHOOL NOTE.</b></div>
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This final piece of court evidence came about during elementary school. I tell the story in the text. Suffice it to say the event really did happen and this note gives evidence to it. It reads:</div>
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Dear Mom. Today in school I blew my stack at my X Teacher Mr. Jagodzinski. He said either take number 6 or get out of school for 3 days. I was so mad I took the 3 days (over). I do not want to talk to anybody until tomorrow. Then and not to then will I tell you and the family what happened. Love Stan</blockquote>
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Get that "Love, Stan" bit. I was a very loving kid. It was either this note and hide, or be found and get strapped. I think the number 6 referred to how many swats from Mr. Jag's paddle. My butt was so swore during those years I would do anything to find some relief. </div>
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The two biggest influences in my life: Mom and Jesus. I think this was taken on my 3rd birthday. Mom could still lift me. About three years later in a Bible memor contest, I won the wooden plaque with the Sallman's Christ the Pilot clear lacquered to the front. I kept it over my desk from about age 6 till I was out of college. Wish I still had it. That's me steering the ship if you didn't recognize the curly dark hair. I think this piece of art had as much to do with giving me a strong faith as did my mother's prayers.<br />
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Neither me or my nephew, Bob (who was older than me by 6-months) had a brother, so when the opportunity arose we did things together. I think was our annual Christmas trip to the famous toy department at the J.L. Hudson story on Woodward Ave, early 1950's.<br />
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The apple tree in which I occasionally got tangled during my harness period. I think that's me, which my head cropped off. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-12694048205516887211993-06-01T07:14:00.000-07:002015-08-20T07:16:10.966-07:00Milky the Clown<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twin Pines Dairy's Milky the Clown, circa 1950</td></tr>
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During a special visit to my kindergarten class, this clown scared me silly. But I still loved milk...although we had a loyalty to the competition from Sealtest Dairy where my Dad was the Safety Director for the delivery trucks. </div>
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Clare Cummings was the man behind the white mask. There's a webpage dedicated to his love of kids and magic at <a href="http://www.detroitkidshow.com/Clare_Cummings.htm">DetroitKidShow.com</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-28939820330035833571990-12-01T08:28:00.000-08:002015-08-20T05:08:21.081-07:00The Star, Moon & Planet Club<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Space and the stuff out there, always fascinated my nephew and me. It was one reason, even as young adults, we took a winter break during college and went to the Manned Spacecraft Center instead of the beach in Florida. As kids, our club for studying outer space was located, logically, in my parent's basement. Also in the basement were the books and magazines we collected about astronomy, and our feeble attempts to make a telescope. The best thing we did was write letters to planetariums and observatories and ask for free stuff. Amazingly, they sent us (free) glossy black and white, 8 x 10 inch photographs. We had dozens of such photos and taped them to the walls of the old fruit cellar we called our club house. But only three pictures have survived. They're below, unretouched. Honestly, I could tell the difference between a dust spot and a distant star. (All pictures: <span style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Mount Wilson and Palomar Observatories, Pasadena, California.)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">NGC 1275</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPn4s72xkDtm4TWMgpFkSXikR1UyF5VIqoPva0f_DCu8pWodHKwgWuGeAweUFlPeTYpGi3xuLnT2Fh2LYuK2rhzOhlPJjld48azM-Kq6upvejJXV9O2wXP06Ny11ORtvYJ5RZC8Hd10E/s1600/NGC40384039106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPn4s72xkDtm4TWMgpFkSXikR1UyF5VIqoPva0f_DCu8pWodHKwgWuGeAweUFlPeTYpGi3xuLnT2Fh2LYuK2rhzOhlPJjld48azM-Kq6upvejJXV9O2wXP06Ny11ORtvYJ5RZC8Hd10E/s400/NGC40384039106.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">NCG 4038 & 4039. (April, 1952)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1EZzK_pSCx15JEzS1gQ23vN0qAKHgu6VJXdaOZnYj0dNvEGoWdlOMS8c3KEknPC8NGfimbMchkxIC6LUVb5Hjdx-fGZwmv8N6HXZ-6SAoV8j8D95obKK3nuAV3gyg1uko1SeJ_MTtSE/s1600/HoldingHandsPoster-150w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1EZzK_pSCx15JEzS1gQ23vN0qAKHgu6VJXdaOZnYj0dNvEGoWdlOMS8c3KEknPC8NGfimbMchkxIC6LUVb5Hjdx-fGZwmv8N6HXZ-6SAoV8j8D95obKK3nuAV3gyg1uko1SeJ_MTtSE/s200/HoldingHandsPoster-150w.jpg" width="135" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">On the back of the photo abaove, in the upper left corner, in feminine handwriting is the name of my first girl-friend in high school (N.K.) I have no idea why her name is there. Did I ask her name and she had to spell it for me, so I handed her my picture of the stars? I must have been star-struck. She was a tall, beautiful blonde — a sweet, naive, but not shy girl—a dear soul. I think we had one date. It lasted 10 minutes max. it consisted of walking along the North side of Lutheran West High School after school (before our parents showed up to pick us up). We were holding hands. It was probably the first time I held a girl's hand. She told me two things that I'll never forget, and then Miss Finzel showed up. N.K. told me, in this order: (a) "My Dad told me I shouldn't eat too many bananas because hair would grow on my chest." (I tried to picture hair growing on this beautiful girl's chest. She had flawless skin. I didn't want to think about it...blocked it from my mind.) Then next came, (b) "I'm still out of breath from choir practice and my heart is still beating so hard. Here feel it." And with that she took my hand and placed it against her chest. And that's when (c) Miss Finzel, the stiff and strict speech teacher who was the self appointed </span>enforcer against all displays of public affection, stuck her head through a classroom window and yelled at me, "MR. WILLIAMS! WHAT IS THE PROBLEM? DO YOU THINK SHE'S GOING TO RUN AWAY? STOP HOLDING HER HAND THIS MOMENT." And that was the end of my first date. </div>
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If you've read the book, there was this uncanny relationship between our Star, Moon and Planet Club and women's chests. I have no idea why or what that was about.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-74680396115352980841990-07-01T10:47:00.000-07:002015-08-25T10:52:31.786-07:00Catholicism and Communism in America<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Harvey H. Springer's 1960 attack on JFK, Catholicism and Communism. </div>
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I keep losing this pamphlet in my files. If I find it again I'll scan a few of the pages inside. I want you to see what Harvey H. Springer (D.D. Th.D.) was saying about communism, JFK, and Catholicism. But perhaps you can get the jest from the two dark clouds that are about to obscure the Jewish star, which I think he means to stand in for Jesus Christ. </div>
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This illustration, and Springer's address to the tent revival crowd that night also indicated the on-going mixing of religion with politics and how easily ideologies can get confused.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-19183419664282470701990-02-01T17:16:00.000-08:002015-08-20T05:38:40.771-07:00Seashore Pool, Levagood Park<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photos in this section courtesy of City of Dearborn, Down River Sunday Times, and the Dearborn Free Press. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">Seashore Pool, Levagood Park, Dearborn, MI. (1954-1960). </span><span style="text-align: left;">This was the place I spent most hot summer afternoons and nights. The center diving tower was in 15 feet of water. Swimming to the tower the first time was a test of manhood as you past one of four gate keeping lifeguards. The pool was open to 10 PM each night and the enter was all aglow with underwater lights that made swimming mystical. There were also four very tall, stainless steel water lubricated slides in the shallows that shot you into the air 3 feet above the water like a skipping stone. A few summers I claimed to be the first swimmer to the tower for the season. </span></div>
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When I was swimming to the tower I never saw this. Usually there were ugly guy lifeguards on duty giving kids like me the evil eye, "What are you doing out here, kid?" Had this been the case I'm sure to have made it to the tower years before my time. I think this was an editorial picture that sold the mostly male taxpayers not to complain too much about the tax increase.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">This was taken before the tower was painted and before there was water in the pool. Notice the three levels of diving platforms. The tallest was ten-feet off the water. There were two of these multi-tier platforms, plus two spring boards. The challenge, aways was to "touch the bottom" which was a long way down—15 feet at the deepest. And yes, there were life guards everywhere, all the time. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-46985402701425397201990-01-01T04:44:00.000-08:002015-12-05T13:45:58.979-08:00Lutheranism<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">After Lutheran High West (and college) my connection with Lutheranism lasted for a few more years.</b></div>
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"Mom" Schroeder (circa 1970) next to the Mt. Calvary Lutheran Church relief of her late husband, Rev. Theodore Schroeder, Annette Schroeder's Mom and Dad. </div>
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Rev. Leo Symmank and wife Rose Merle (circa 2014). Our pastor in 1970-1973 at Missouri Synod Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Nassau Bay, Texas outside the gates of the Manned Spacecraft Center. Today, in partial retirement, the Symmanks have retired near Nassau Bay and go to church at the much larger Gloria Dei. </div>
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Trudy (Jander) Laird, my first cover photo (on the left as it appeared in publication), with the original on the right. Never let your magazine editor crop your pictures. We named out first child after Trudy because of Trudy's enthusiasm for Jesus. Below is a picture of the two Trudys when the older one came to visit us in Michigan five years later.</div>
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Turdy (Jander) Laird and Trudy Williams (Aug 1977)</div>
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The NASA "Rocket Theologians" and their wonderfully tolerant wives (circa 1982) (see the chapter on Versificaiton) (L-R) John & Susan Ritland, Stan & Pam Williams, Bill & Beth Roeh. Taken in St. Louis during a Christmas reunion of our families. As discussed in the book, it was our Bible "study" on infant baptism that caused all of us to leave the Lutheran Church. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-81823413729502578161989-05-01T16:20:00.000-07:002015-09-27T05:51:35.305-07:00High School at Detroit Lutheran West<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Dennis Toumi - a Great Coach</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqMIcAOnBfDY1CZg58RQnjKGJX2vKQ38C3IyGUS2ckCOX-BBJ5dilZPvNLaNh0-QZ3UNiTFRFSzjT5Fu14E-cQ2jQXtoMNqnR-Zlf8oLRW1vCMdyiIOst5-uolv8F0iG26QiyxMnXaPA/s1600/TuomiComp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqMIcAOnBfDY1CZg58RQnjKGJX2vKQ38C3IyGUS2ckCOX-BBJ5dilZPvNLaNh0-QZ3UNiTFRFSzjT5Fu14E-cQ2jQXtoMNqnR-Zlf8oLRW1vCMdyiIOst5-uolv8F0iG26QiyxMnXaPA/s400/TuomiComp.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Dennis Toumi, the best sports coach I ever had...and many others thought the same. The man spent his entire career teaching physical education and coaching at Detroit Lutheran High Schools although he was offered college coaching positions. His small teams regularly beat much larger teams. Coach Toumi is in the Michigan High School Coaches Hall of Fame. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Getting an Award for Being Wrong</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3FvRI_odMYzh9OaberR5sRulOZB3rEpyBSQU2U-aBfHMW0z5wUIYVLtZe5C0B2nBFm26oajFBUG5chsgJW4FIR1FBsDeyKlmbS2vwYhrGw9VwNkEf32gfOT2gj8RrmYd_TGKtdWNPGA/s1600/Acolyte-Certificate-72-600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3FvRI_odMYzh9OaberR5sRulOZB3rEpyBSQU2U-aBfHMW0z5wUIYVLtZe5C0B2nBFm26oajFBUG5chsgJW4FIR1FBsDeyKlmbS2vwYhrGw9VwNkEf32gfOT2gj8RrmYd_TGKtdWNPGA/s400/Acolyte-Certificate-72-600w.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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In the book I tell of the time Rev. Dequin fired me as an acolyte because I wasn't Lutheran. Imagine my surprise during the awards assembly at the end of the year when I got this Award Certificate. Irony is the best medicine. </div>
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High School Drama Rehearsal for The Cinderella Complex (circa 1964). Stuck up Cinderella and arrogant Prince Charming (Carol Molnar and Yours Truly). Directed by Annette Schroeder. Evidently, during this rehearsal I was supposed to pick up Jack Fish (a classmate) and toss him off the set. Jack was smallish, and a good sport and wit. He was one of three classmates who became Lutheran pastors. I saw Jack at our 50th Reunion (Sept 2015) and he says his still has a sore back from that day. But with Jack, one never knows. (Sorry, Jack.)</div>
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My State of Michigan Science Fair award. I got in the habit of winning awards for last place. My peers called met he King of the Golden Shovel for winning this. It was more about how I wrote up the project than what the project really was. I keep these things around to remind me that even losers can be winners (so to speak). This falls in the category of the acolyte certificate and the National Music Camp Poster Boy image (below)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLHtVI6yxy0Zt6vcItCktblkWdg_tYITjTMEzE0o3kqMDHkSk0_dSVflURKTcCXIqApNKfJ7E2Q8pDEHHxS9w9Nou84iFMZlAsDv24tnrgES5Npr40r6NAdilliMuISNAhx1aZRhqe2I/s1600/InterlochenPosterStanCompsite600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLHtVI6yxy0Zt6vcItCktblkWdg_tYITjTMEzE0o3kqMDHkSk0_dSVflURKTcCXIqApNKfJ7E2Q8pDEHHxS9w9Nou84iFMZlAsDv24tnrgES5Npr40r6NAdilliMuISNAhx1aZRhqe2I/s320/InterlochenPosterStanCompsite600w.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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Irony strikes again. Another example of my knack of looking looking good even through I was in last place. As I explain in the book, my summer at Interlochen was perhaps the best 8-weeks of my teenage years. Of the seven bassoonists at the camp I was the worst. I sat last chair of the second string orchestra and band. But the wonderfulness of it all was no one ever challenged me, and I only had to practice enough to know when NOT to try to play during a concert, so as not to embarrass the bassoon section. So, imagine my surprise when the next year at school this poster ends up on the band room wall (actually this is a composite to make me look more important than I was, my image was actually kind of moderate in size near the bottom). My band instructor didn't particularly like me even through I was the student conductor of the band. So the poster was only up for a day or two before it disappeared. I had to write the camp to get my own copy. : )</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">PICTURES FROM MY LHW YEARBOOKS</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KZRL3VcoDjz47s8L4OoQPSFP_gFDzFE-Ey1FFq7RnZXqSy9fxGMyGtZ4vCNw9BYXyGItWuCxuDdg86Ls_IBf5jjELRh5ltNdXIVdH63Psbq6m4IYGeBlZUmCr1iOgZVyfUIE2abcovc/s1600/WilliamsComp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KZRL3VcoDjz47s8L4OoQPSFP_gFDzFE-Ey1FFq7RnZXqSy9fxGMyGtZ4vCNw9BYXyGItWuCxuDdg86Ls_IBf5jjELRh5ltNdXIVdH63Psbq6m4IYGeBlZUmCr1iOgZVyfUIE2abcovc/s400/WilliamsComp.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Rev. Edward Williams, our chalk-tossing math teacher and class sponsor who helped me write our class hymn. He was the only person to sign my year book with a Scripture reference...a true Evangelical. Phil 4:13: <span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; text-align: left; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"><i>"</i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; text-align: left;"><i>I can do all this through him who gives me strength."</i></span></span></div>
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(L-R) Choir director, Rev. Lavern Franzen who interrupted the Carousel movie to tell us that JFK had been shot, and then again that he had died. Terrible day. / Rev. Henry Dequin, our chain-smoking chaplain who cared a great deal for us in his German ways / Lloyd McLaughlin, who taught Trigonometry and Analytic Geometry. He drove one of two small Plymouth Valients that were identical (his or his wife's). For two years I walked 1/4-mile to the corner of Ford Rd. and Gulley Rd. in Dearborn Hts, where he would pick me up on his way to school (15 miles away), and then get behind a slow moving semi-truck and stay there all the way to our turn off for school. His reasoning was simple: "No one will cut in front of me." I find my self following his example today.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-35316812771795051971989-04-01T17:53:00.000-08:002015-09-27T04:55:39.358-07:00The Art at Guardian Lutheran<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While writing the book, in 2014, I went back to Guardian Lutheran Church in Dearborn, MI to revisit what I recalled from my Lutheran High School days in the early 1960s. I was pleased that the art which inspired me then, was still as magnificent, and was as I remembered it.<br />
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The explanations were provided to me by Kathy Sillanpaa, the Business Manager at Guardian, who found descriptions in a church dedication booklet. (which is below in italics). I am most grateful.<br />
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This large limited edition print, beautifully framed, hangs on a wall of a passageway that gives access to the back of the nave. Notice that the art speaks for itself. No Scripture needs to be posted across or under it.</div>
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Around the corner from the above crucifixion painting is this elegant crucifix. The juxtaposition of the two tells us much about how the mind's imagination fills in the gaps and gasps at the verisimilitude. Upon entering the church, one comes to this simple foreshadowing, of the more explicit image waiting for the worshiper just around the corner. </div>
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<i>Walking up the stairway in the south side of the church, we shall see on the landing a mosaic that was used for a convention at the Michigan District a long time ago and put together by Guardian members. It depicts the Christ of Revelation who holds the Seven Stars of the Seven Churches in His right hand. </i>A detail is below. The large 15-foot high mosaic was <i>designed by Guardian's founding Pastor, Rev. T.H. Voss and fashioned under the guidance of Miss Lorraine Sass.</i></div>
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Imagine the patience and even painful cutting and chipping of the ceramic pieces to get the many feathers just right.</div>
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The Sanctuary, Altar and Focus of the Congregation During Divine Services.</div>
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<i>The eye is immediately drawn, as it should be, to the chancel area, where the beautiful faceted glass windows designed by the Jacobi Studio of St. Louis, the sculpture by George Zambrzycki, the altar and other furnishings designed by Michael Trautman, the aluminum castings by artist Oscar Graves should send the spirit soaring to the heavens in the worship of the Living Christ. </i></div>
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<i>The altar of white and black marble stands away from the reredos wall in order that the officiant can stand both before and behind, and the altar becomes once more what it was meant to be in the earliest practice of the Christian church: no longer only the symbol of an altar upon which innocent lambs in the Old Testament were slain, not only the empty coffin of the Risen Christ, but simply also a table from which the family can be served the Holy Meal and be strengthened for its Body ministry in Jesus Christ, the Resurrected Lord.</i></div>
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<i>The windows also depict not scene or person, but the movement of the spirit of man and his prayers ascending as incense to the Throne on high, and the Holy Spirit's decent. </i></div>
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<i>The Zambrzycki Reredos Sculpture is also an abstraction. It is basically a cruciform, but intends to convey the work of the Descending Spirit poured on the Christian heart, the spreading wings of the Presence of the Angel of the Lord --- and the bright shafts of both our spirit's ascending into the heavens and the force of God's new creation coming down in the Holy Spirit upon us and all His creation. "Truly" the artist is saying to us as he interprets this insight of Scripture, "we are in two worlds at once, and our worship acknowledges the Presence of the Living God in the finished work of Jesus Christ, the Crucified and Risen King, with us in and through the annointment of his Spirit.</i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-62825369362967387441988-01-01T06:28:00.000-08:002017-05-08T16:21:35.296-07:00Dr. Stan Walters<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After almost 50 years, Pam and I have lunch with perhaps our favorite college professor, Dr. Stan Walters. I devote a chapter to him and his course on Basic Christianity we were required to take at Greenville College in the mid-1960s. We met at a Holiday Inn Restaurant called The French Quarter near Toledo, Ohio.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaw6uyyioedG2rZv4IETkSjj4VZPob-G-2z-6DQa9zfWa5quQmoVFsKX_85whUD_7VB2MDOQzvSS25FeqzOOtTUh_2J9FPCFrJLYalw0rAoZNFSAFZHaQAq4XGOyDd-U1_tnZ8JVqw64/s1600/IMG_3158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaw6uyyioedG2rZv4IETkSjj4VZPob-G-2z-6DQa9zfWa5quQmoVFsKX_85whUD_7VB2MDOQzvSS25FeqzOOtTUh_2J9FPCFrJLYalw0rAoZNFSAFZHaQAq4XGOyDd-U1_tnZ8JVqw64/s400/IMG_3158.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pam Williams, Dr. Stan Walters, Stan Williams meet after 47 years.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; text-size-adjust: auto;">Walter's virtue was (and still is) his ability to make Christianity rational. At heart and by training a Biblical scholar expert in cuneiform languages (i.e. formed with "wedges" in the wet clay. Cruciform is a good word, meaning "in the form of a cross.") </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; text-size-adjust: auto;">Walters was ordained a Free Methodist minister but became a Presbyterian in order to accept a teaching position in the Presbyterian Church in Canada. He candidly admitted that one of the reasons he left Greenville was its rejection of his rational approach to Christianity. As I argue in the book it's impossible to separate Christian Faith and Reason. Thank you, Dr. Walters.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-17313050734085440651987-12-01T14:20:00.000-08:002019-10-15T15:21:58.254-07:00Greenville College<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPoXhm83rpZBwLw-1z4HNexRXovTPgjk8TzQobs665clFVeW8cmWAUP3NY0Igb_kFJCq2FGApiI-WZass43KJ46AFMkrKo55R87HX7RHh4b0r0gt486CHrYkWg8A1iFLq-CS5b-bYtfs/s1600/Hogue+by+JucoFlickr.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPoXhm83rpZBwLw-1z4HNexRXovTPgjk8TzQobs665clFVeW8cmWAUP3NY0Igb_kFJCq2FGApiI-WZass43KJ46AFMkrKo55R87HX7RHh4b0r0gt486CHrYkWg8A1iFLq-CS5b-bYtfs/s400/Hogue+by+JucoFlickr.tiff" width="400" /></a></div>
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This was Hogue Hall, Greenville College's main administration building and location of both the WGRN radio station (windows on the 2nd floor, far right) and the Physic Lab (on the first floor below WGRN (the entire first floor right of the tower, mostly hidden by the redbud branch). This picture which I found on Flickr was taken in 2008 by JUCO. The building looked the same in the 1960s, but has since be raised.<br />
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My 1965 haircut c/o G.C. sophomores. Yes, I'm popping pills...in this case red M&M's. The only picture I have of the Warner Sallman Jesus Pilot painting on a woodcut, which I earned as a child memorizing scripture at Ferndale Free Methodist, is on the wall at left. the picture was an inspiration to me throughout the years and if I still had it, it would have a prominent place in my office.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVwqtEONhqYegEzAGTFz7yVIvTQnPvQEwL324F7asGc4F_7SE9sveOuTy1MRe4_vzjZcaRdjqDw2EpV7ePYmLznNaQTXVZTVNZAyyYooaTxkCFHONRd2UVswQyaoKT96AFfBd1biEhBU/s1600/NewChristy%2540GC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVwqtEONhqYegEzAGTFz7yVIvTQnPvQEwL324F7asGc4F_7SE9sveOuTy1MRe4_vzjZcaRdjqDw2EpV7ePYmLznNaQTXVZTVNZAyyYooaTxkCFHONRd2UVswQyaoKT96AFfBd1biEhBU/s400/NewChristy%2540GC.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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New Christy Minstrels 1966, performing in GC's Joy Hall. I was more into folk singing than my studies, and marketing this group's appearance on campus allowed me to flunk out of Calculus. I believe this is Barry McGuire in the foreground, who I encountered a few years later on an album cover held by <a href="http://growingupchristiansw.blogspot.com/search/label/Dennis%20Stacey">Dennis Stacey</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-1HpReoK729UtTUKs6Oy9ktDWNPz9ctZJ63N6NEETfKqedPHgytPAgEz5llADa8gV-XA4K7wXDkMuHWPGwOUemRjNLFKW8SMrUr5R21KFfHMwtNiVApJl7-9RqKOueE_uZR-aSRdC9M/s1600/gc183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-1HpReoK729UtTUKs6Oy9ktDWNPz9ctZJ63N6NEETfKqedPHgytPAgEz5llADa8gV-XA4K7wXDkMuHWPGwOUemRjNLFKW8SMrUr5R21KFfHMwtNiVApJl7-9RqKOueE_uZR-aSRdC9M/s400/gc183.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCIvjFHoHA1lCX-hRYbef5BxLNAFt-Xvbeti4KStGUfyw1ZXPSR1cs860wkfKYL92lzy6UI-AXcxD0zt2WwcluPq-LWV0h68WXfno4IdHz1Q92jBuCZzRQV6Czb-xHlvdzlY-6gTj5CM/s1600/marcellus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCIvjFHoHA1lCX-hRYbef5BxLNAFt-Xvbeti4KStGUfyw1ZXPSR1cs860wkfKYL92lzy6UI-AXcxD0zt2WwcluPq-LWV0h68WXfno4IdHz1Q92jBuCZzRQV6Czb-xHlvdzlY-6gTj5CM/s1600/marcellus.jpg" /></a>Too bad this is out of focus. It's the only picture I have of my senior roommate Richard Marcellus who, is sitting at the controls of WGRN where I spent way more hours than I should have. You can see the turntables behind him on the left and right..."digital" was something we only dreamed about back then. After he got back form Vietnam, where he was sure he would be political fodder for the killing fields, he earned his MA in Mathematics from the Univ. of Michigan in 1974, and a PhD in Industrial and Operations Engineering, also from Univ. of Michigan. He then led a long teaching career at University of Illinois at Chicago and Northern Illinois University. (I was often in Ann Arbor during that time and never knew he was there as well at the time)<br />
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While working at WGRN I produced a story series called Moody's Musings, featuring Professor James Moody (1037-2017) telling stories that we were never sure how much of them were true. It seemed <span style="font-family: "minion pro" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Moody always seemed to
have an accidental ancestor that played a key role in dramatic turn of
historical events. In the picture above, he sits in his famous Lake Superior State Univesity office that was an extension of his classroom surrounded by 14,000 books and artifacts from his world travels. He died after a long battle with cancer at the age of 80. "Some people have children," he said. "I have books."</span><br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7SPEbo-Bea9GUl3eA4ZokoU2uElOkxJkbkDJycv6hBIvEemz_QE-dRIJYLatWTj0EtSMHbzJggKJNSGxsAXuplozFX5s7Kyr8hkhMBmXvRdzUPQttFAjykNFjHgsI7cMoDvv2t2FdRo/s1600/Glen+Snyder010+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7SPEbo-Bea9GUl3eA4ZokoU2uElOkxJkbkDJycv6hBIvEemz_QE-dRIJYLatWTj0EtSMHbzJggKJNSGxsAXuplozFX5s7Kyr8hkhMBmXvRdzUPQttFAjykNFjHgsI7cMoDvv2t2FdRo/s400/Glen+Snyder010+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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In the book I recount the "Greenville Revolution" led by missionary kid and student body president, Glen Synder. This, of course was taken years later after a Sunday dinner at a Birmingham Cafe that was a popular for the Ferndale Free Methodist church attendees, which Glen I believes still attends. (L-R) Pam Williams, Hope (Willobee) Winke, Glen Synder and wife who are both M.D.'s in the Detroit area and active in medical missionary efforts. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-48237633639908142301985-02-01T12:17:00.000-08:002015-09-13T13:57:08.399-07:00Campus Crusade for Christ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the the book I related the circumstances that got both me and Pam involved taking pictures for Campus Crusade at their Explo '72 event in Dallas, ,Texas. Here are a few pictures of that time.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAT3NVGbrloHhSQ_pRP_LO0r4y7ZbKxNzNYF5I1BnmpWCYlICg41aXaRNtsZN85oS5IsSnIPzjvhu_OWtPRSXCtZdhtMqp868HQMYhvwSN6JQLbQg75zr5v7dA26BRY1KSjbsFVRrhD2I/s1600/Explocombo1000w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAT3NVGbrloHhSQ_pRP_LO0r4y7ZbKxNzNYF5I1BnmpWCYlICg41aXaRNtsZN85oS5IsSnIPzjvhu_OWtPRSXCtZdhtMqp868HQMYhvwSN6JQLbQg75zr5v7dA26BRY1KSjbsFVRrhD2I/s400/Explocombo1000w.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A couple of my not-so-famous photos.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMIA6urXDyRzJHW3L1NsOKwjSi9w0rgvQFZXhllBHhlT_2SjBSdcgXTxeOppN4jmxeLRkEd67pqFRyaJLQhfmhQiKSHDgcuDVLXFP3oek-4I1_Fvdtfc4yNMfwFcQSU-4X-3-ULzdWjI/s1600/billy+and+johnny+explo+7153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMIA6urXDyRzJHW3L1NsOKwjSi9w0rgvQFZXhllBHhlT_2SjBSdcgXTxeOppN4jmxeLRkEd67pqFRyaJLQhfmhQiKSHDgcuDVLXFP3oek-4I1_Fvdtfc4yNMfwFcQSU-4X-3-ULzdWjI/s400/billy+and+johnny+explo+7153.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And, Pam's famous photo...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMARoaGUyrnvW90u4XiXD1jtbWrRPRHb2sAoEfoIowxTA6tmrrBin_YhTCVDbKDU9Z6SgXQ3aKl5JWy6ukvMKq8pxpmels38TKu4voVB8hVytkXLMnyrBHtJ8zp7MJaOm2RyoO08mbEtY/s1600/Billy+%2526+Johnny+Composite120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMARoaGUyrnvW90u4XiXD1jtbWrRPRHb2sAoEfoIowxTA6tmrrBin_YhTCVDbKDU9Z6SgXQ3aKl5JWy6ukvMKq8pxpmels38TKu4voVB8hVytkXLMnyrBHtJ8zp7MJaOm2RyoO08mbEtY/s320/Billy+%2526+Johnny+Composite120.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">...and how it was printed around the world.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRBOZuqoakV9LnSPHbJXjKGd7oFrLPBXCxr-TybWuZrYgzJPwUU_jEhzY4mDThfVoZMBKsoLjNC6F8SRU_7mi4uUI8BI6PfNfWnaa1YOKDITNXPiD_NgJ3hyLp7oZnpCXwNWTCWGea20/s1600/Dallas+Linda+Strom066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRBOZuqoakV9LnSPHbJXjKGd7oFrLPBXCxr-TybWuZrYgzJPwUU_jEhzY4mDThfVoZMBKsoLjNC6F8SRU_7mi4uUI8BI6PfNfWnaa1YOKDITNXPiD_NgJ3hyLp7oZnpCXwNWTCWGea20/s400/Dallas+Linda+Strom066.jpg" width="203" /></a><span style="text-align: center;"></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">Dallas and Linda Strom, our gracious sponsors at Campus Crusade's Staff Training in Purdue. Dallas died of cancer some years back, and today, Linda carries on a worldwide prison ministry, Discipleship Unlimited.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgMkjYA1xLKPbNLDuTnkG37q_75SDtMrHzfHh0MTWVyKtEJ_Zqfsdn3qyVIqRyEghm01zViqwZXAv5KnAYaow0mgeBgvc3wGbb6MVyaG5yUBOZ7udk4AGPd8pF7q1NalkgiBusu2eok8/s1600/4SLCombo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgMkjYA1xLKPbNLDuTnkG37q_75SDtMrHzfHh0MTWVyKtEJ_Zqfsdn3qyVIqRyEghm01zViqwZXAv5KnAYaow0mgeBgvc3wGbb6MVyaG5yUBOZ7udk4AGPd8pF7q1NalkgiBusu2eok8/s640/4SLCombo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The famous (or infamous) Four Spiritual Laws. Promotional pictures I took at Purdue's staff training on our apartment carpet, and Trudy trying to ingest one. (We never fed her enough.)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-34746039726805455991984-04-01T06:44:00.000-08:002015-10-19T07:48:22.306-07:00Dennis Stacey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In everyone's journey of faith you make and keep lasting friends. Two friends that are still in our hearts, although they now live a state away, are Dennis and Cheryl Stacey. Dennis ran The Logos Bible Bookstore in Taylor, MI in the mid-1970s.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGywUyFu9Iw4VtueEjPzcdJwMEOLyZHwQIRtxddHKqTibLMrAvzLN-vGUJeOpC3Rh23Y1zJ18wkPhXZM5wMqWzXNWCdxw4adebbcgUqKy6uBxLYkYBn9-o1iEztBO3BIMGGTTpS4JPSqE/s1600/Dennis+Stacey+vs+McGuire600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGywUyFu9Iw4VtueEjPzcdJwMEOLyZHwQIRtxddHKqTibLMrAvzLN-vGUJeOpC3Rh23Y1zJ18wkPhXZM5wMqWzXNWCdxw4adebbcgUqKy6uBxLYkYBn9-o1iEztBO3BIMGGTTpS4JPSqE/s400/Dennis+Stacey+vs+McGuire600w.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If he can impersonate Barry McGuire, image what he could<br />
do to a Bible. The man with the jovial smile was dangerous...and liked.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Dennis is the HOLE-iest Biblical scholar I know. Is holeiest even a word? It is if Dennis has anything to "do" about it. Dennis you were instrumental in my journey. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-75012988912990226801982-08-01T12:23:00.000-07:002015-09-12T05:47:51.100-07:00Ford Photomedia and The Twiggy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When it came to industrial video and film in the late 1970s, the Ford Photomedia Department, located in the basement of Word Headquarters, took the prize. The Detroit Producer's Association (DPA) ran an awards contest that was judged by our peers in the industry but from outside of Detroit. The Twiggy statues, as they were called, were our answer to Hollywood's Oscars. What made them special was that not that many were given out, only one for the best in each category, not one for every film or video that met minimum standards like some corporate or industrial contests.<br />
<br />
One year, in an effort to show support for the industry, our manager, Wil Moellman decided that we should participate. He was also trying to elevate the department's statute within the corporation. So, in 1978 we began to compete. That first year we won four Twiggies. Will was so pleased he had this picture take of Bob Kreipke and I for our haul.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgE-BxJt0ml-SDtY8_siOGm1el0idHYCGOYK7ebwXX_LfqL7jATwy05Mnub4hr0lIUmySs7JASUtdvby9cQEJyf1j6wyijEJSjYopI-gfdIqCy8fcsLtLo9oAj-RNhcmuZeR79NyfPok/s1600/Will%252CStan%252CBob+Twiggies098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgE-BxJt0ml-SDtY8_siOGm1el0idHYCGOYK7ebwXX_LfqL7jATwy05Mnub4hr0lIUmySs7JASUtdvby9cQEJyf1j6wyijEJSjYopI-gfdIqCy8fcsLtLo9oAj-RNhcmuZeR79NyfPok/s400/Will%252CStan%252CBob+Twiggies098.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(L-R) Will Moellman (Mgr), congratulates Ford Producer-Directors Stan Williams, <br />
and Bob Kreipke for their 1978 Detroit Academy of Video Communication<br />
Awards affectionally nicknamed THE TWIGGY</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But Bob and I knew that we could not take all the credit. There was a team behind us all along each project's journey. The next year the department won five Twiggies, and many showed up for the banquet. I think Bob and I each (again) won two, but for the picture we weren't allowed to hold more than one. Bob, gentleman that he was and still is, stepped out and took the picture below. Today, Bob is the Chief Historian for Ford Motor Company, even as he continues to produce award winning films.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWroG35VS7z10ZIHrNaXjBdOMDSsPOOSDtWHjp2rUmPJgdEJ4YaFZ1OY3pdpWEJOEwNv_rfFmgPnROZooxO-HziajEonvMIDAefe5En4xLep9sUnvIg1T_wFaPjDK8QxVgxkTrXsUZLmc/s1600/Photomedia+Twiggy+Team+sans+caption.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWroG35VS7z10ZIHrNaXjBdOMDSsPOOSDtWHjp2rUmPJgdEJ4YaFZ1OY3pdpWEJOEwNv_rfFmgPnROZooxO-HziajEonvMIDAefe5En4xLep9sUnvIg1T_wFaPjDK8QxVgxkTrXsUZLmc/s640/Photomedia+Twiggy+Team+sans+caption.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(L-R) CHUCK ROSSIE, (writer); KATI FLYN (secretary); WIL MOELLMAN (manager); PAT TURNER (Bob Kreipke's coordinator and asst. producer), BILL RIGSTAD (section supervisor), LIN ALBERTSON (account representative); JIM MUNSIE (unit supervisor); STAN WILLIAMS (producer-director). Not pictured but very much a part of the group (BOB KREIPKE (producer-director), AL MURDOCK (producer-director), BEN ADAMS (filmmaker), FRED STRICKLAND (writer), DICK GAMBLE (account representative). Also on staff were an excellent cache of engineers, technicians, camera operators, laboratory personnel, and of course, our clients who funded everything we did. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWTVLvzeWSiknAOObRaM6eujXVf55xVYYmqsn3clQ7ZS0LR75r4416DgHJdEK6DiHOgsXrVnrLF7K0Kmi8dn0ZrPd7eP0FbmjnsCEBgrU87-2SRyxj_74HPoleqniwsLFY7EPZYNAB1U/s1600/Bob+Kreipke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWTVLvzeWSiknAOObRaM6eujXVf55xVYYmqsn3clQ7ZS0LR75r4416DgHJdEK6DiHOgsXrVnrLF7K0Kmi8dn0ZrPd7eP0FbmjnsCEBgrU87-2SRyxj_74HPoleqniwsLFY7EPZYNAB1U/s200/Bob+Kreipke.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert Kreipke, Ford Historian<br />
and Filmmaker</td></tr>
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We participated in the AVC awards for the next few years, and won our share of Twiggies, but I left in 1981 to start Full Circle Productions.<br />
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Here's a picture of Bob taken for his current position at Ford. So, serious and academic looking. He's actually a pretty funny guy and given to smiling a lot. But a great filmmaker he is.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-17441061089419654841981-05-01T07:11:00.000-07:002015-09-12T07:40:56.196-07:00Pam's Banners<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In the book I write about how Pam's worship banners were disrespected by Taylor Free Methodist, and how I salvaged (sort of) her first creation from a puddle of waste water in the janitor's closet. That banner did not survive, nor do we have any pictures of it that I've been able to locate.<br />
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But during our years in the early 1980's at Northwest Christian Missionary Alliance, her artistic efforts were appreciated, and her banners were hung on a regular basis. They even fabricated a rack behind the platform in which to store them.<br />
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Here are pictures of three of her best banners. They were moderately large, if you compare their height to the people in the pictures. You can't see it here, but they hung at the front of the naive, on either side of the platform and pulpit, the piano at the left and the organ at the right.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-58245475497753742231980-12-01T20:22:00.000-08:002015-08-20T05:29:25.593-07:00Media and Movies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
That photography and motion pictures were someone ingrained in my DNA came as a surprise when my Dad, during the surprise trip to Pittsburgh, started telling me about his brothers. But I was no prodigy. Although my parents and relatives took many pictures they were at best "snap shots."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsflRKgL0pnvgndQhyphenhyphenOlq8b20Fwz8Uh55RxVoCG3KdawYsAFf-LZ126GTJxhDxjGDtHjHfYA4vvQO4xhP8ttWZ4gcU872kdBYstQPeEL74lWxbk57GRBniE9MnkAg9MCBu4kOUieXsAY/s1600/Tripod+and+Telenews.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsflRKgL0pnvgndQhyphenhyphenOlq8b20Fwz8Uh55RxVoCG3KdawYsAFf-LZ126GTJxhDxjGDtHjHfYA4vvQO4xhP8ttWZ4gcU872kdBYstQPeEL74lWxbk57GRBniE9MnkAg9MCBu4kOUieXsAY/s400/Tripod+and+Telenews.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(L) Fascinated with how the crank made the tripod get taller. <br />(R) Detroit's Telenews Theater the year it shut down as the result <br />of the competition from the new technology known as TELEVISION</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The closest I got to broadcast network television.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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It was a trip to New York during college for a physics conference. My first time there. Loved it. Because of my interest in media it was suggested I stop in ABC and get an application for summer internship. But I was not interested in the media commodity that network television represents. I didn't like the idea of doing the same thing one project to the next.</div>
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As soon as we moved to Houston, I picked up photography as my advocation with the intention that when I got laid off from the Space Program I would turn to photography. I had no idea that motion pictures, video, and live shows were in my future. Below, I'm holding a friend's Nikon. Bill Kincey took the picture with one of my Canon SRL cameras. I also had two Mamya 2 1/4-inch C330s for weddings, and I still have a pristine Calumet 4x5-inch view camera. Wonder if they make a 4x5 CMOS sensor to rival 4x5?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPlMBNS7pDEKjYcrULOp9wlGZrvUMCN6aW3xvXPWbfMbOuEBvGaZNWSYSq6vIFaZTgCmetgFzfPaBDFCbPM95YjwCk7LRh0svicKReCD4_-KXuLA6ujlnhE-rd9pnkywPPxrWX1nLXDU/s1600/John+Teen+Port+NB+1972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPlMBNS7pDEKjYcrULOp9wlGZrvUMCN6aW3xvXPWbfMbOuEBvGaZNWSYSq6vIFaZTgCmetgFzfPaBDFCbPM95YjwCk7LRh0svicKReCD4_-KXuLA6ujlnhE-rd9pnkywPPxrWX1nLXDU/s200/John+Teen+Port+NB+1972.jpg" width="153" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtFb9wxr0whP32wJTTPxpFvEZMiCNGWy_oM_8OGaiQuO41Hpnbt-LX72a1IUxohzU579DOFRQC93w2uU_du3zIrnLURkPKuLv6-WFYa5LMzQA4UFxUdRPXv87RhCH-jLzrYH_4-yJXyM/s1600/Stan+Nikon075+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtFb9wxr0whP32wJTTPxpFvEZMiCNGWy_oM_8OGaiQuO41Hpnbt-LX72a1IUxohzU579DOFRQC93w2uU_du3zIrnLURkPKuLv6-WFYa5LMzQA4UFxUdRPXv87RhCH-jLzrYH_4-yJXyM/s200/Stan+Nikon075+copy.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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My favorite subject, of course, was always Pam, my beautiful wife.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3T6B5CCrRi0QzTL7q6y_Km7Xk8WK7GFUeEZbdXuNEV8RrtOhoXNUFNCii2nHlyTvX0M1mMBDfxbd5JSYXougwSgspixIQHWC2tNI5C9tfo1U3kHv7asJ_mnADw2910OXf3Br-nwGqYg/s1600/pam+lomg+hair083+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3T6B5CCrRi0QzTL7q6y_Km7Xk8WK7GFUeEZbdXuNEV8RrtOhoXNUFNCii2nHlyTvX0M1mMBDfxbd5JSYXougwSgspixIQHWC2tNI5C9tfo1U3kHv7asJ_mnADw2910OXf3Br-nwGqYg/s200/pam+lomg+hair083+copy.jpg" width="129" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeJbfMYc6CwHh5gterjqVv2CuEzIfIHFej68fMtu9ht1HMce-Jp4DR6XBBT2xJOVZMMUveU2K7ic_hPVfB7_IfSB6PHjaZ2PFZBNHqRG-8gYzeR5CckGqIcuiYef60jTG9jBnnEHR_wA/s1600/Pam+One+Lt+Portrait131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeJbfMYc6CwHh5gterjqVv2CuEzIfIHFej68fMtu9ht1HMce-Jp4DR6XBBT2xJOVZMMUveU2K7ic_hPVfB7_IfSB6PHjaZ2PFZBNHqRG-8gYzeR5CckGqIcuiYef60jTG9jBnnEHR_wA/s200/Pam+One+Lt+Portrait131.jpg" width="140" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBn2W8q9mfDt4NvWaDc4q6DaCQpVL4sb7nYtIte09k2R56VgUhU8O3Wiagdc7TG_tJiikfHZqipCgfIyXZ0yHZYpE7YEP5d-oLjhWTwzh33oB4sz7Y_pSIMFG_V5hClqSLIlVNckey7A/s1600/Pam+PG+Josh+Side+6-76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBn2W8q9mfDt4NvWaDc4q6DaCQpVL4sb7nYtIte09k2R56VgUhU8O3Wiagdc7TG_tJiikfHZqipCgfIyXZ0yHZYpE7YEP5d-oLjhWTwzh33oB4sz7Y_pSIMFG_V5hClqSLIlVNckey7A/s200/Pam+PG+Josh+Side+6-76.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Pam posed untiringly for my photography experiments early in our marriage, as I learned about lighting, exposures, lenses and darkroom techniques. The shot in the middle is my all time favorite, shot with a single 250-watt lamp and several reflectors for a correspondence photography course I took from the School of Modern Photography. One bathroom in our apartments was the darkroom, and one wall of our living room had rolls of seamless paper mounted on the wall. (click to enlarge)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gcb5QYX5TyRRwXGvjydFu63e2FAFLJba6eMcCsjpzwt0MiQsxVCxjEfTyRKSnsJxul6fB0GXun8XUoaDPK-B42JsoZFVLEhrw305UBCCiSw3toaaw7-wPqWsUDL1WcahY8L9zCFQ218/s1600/portfolio021dk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gcb5QYX5TyRRwXGvjydFu63e2FAFLJba6eMcCsjpzwt0MiQsxVCxjEfTyRKSnsJxul6fB0GXun8XUoaDPK-B42JsoZFVLEhrw305UBCCiSw3toaaw7-wPqWsUDL1WcahY8L9zCFQ218/s320/portfolio021dk.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27o06PO3hlGbhvx6NLlVq_Mc9GUjwvzyP0ElL5iODXu_j1EDvRSGGg3epf9munvrt1zSTaZMvxTEJweJ38fuTujbxoQTLgAJ8DpAaSFMd9vU-SQjEYgRUwvGEyG1AeKyhUn5s5sIS8X4/s1600/portfolio022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27o06PO3hlGbhvx6NLlVq_Mc9GUjwvzyP0ElL5iODXu_j1EDvRSGGg3epf9munvrt1zSTaZMvxTEJweJ38fuTujbxoQTLgAJ8DpAaSFMd9vU-SQjEYgRUwvGEyG1AeKyhUn5s5sIS8X4/s200/portfolio022.jpg" width="132" /></a></div>
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The Texas sun near water always offered possibilities with a long 350mm lens. At right above is Pam's sister, Linda, who came from California to visit us in Texas. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">While working at Ford as a photographer and later producer-director, I started Full Circle Productions with Bill Wiitala and Don Schendel to produce multimedia slide shows for the Free Methodist Church of North America. </span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVYSNBbJasNaDbNc-3dEbEKFgl5meFBfKB90BvEnix7EOWI7LF59o5ibbPmdMoPe7qt1zwtYhalHX5hKWZZ97tRVkp73gZ1cm1xlG1nq6LLn7SNXjNJCwmz4N_ejF9ofLvkbau1O2pMY/s1600/FCC+Studio+May+1976+FM+Projects.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVYSNBbJasNaDbNc-3dEbEKFgl5meFBfKB90BvEnix7EOWI7LF59o5ibbPmdMoPe7qt1zwtYhalHX5hKWZZ97tRVkp73gZ1cm1xlG1nq6LLn7SNXjNJCwmz4N_ejF9ofLvkbau1O2pMY/s400/FCC+Studio+May+1976+FM+Projects.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Full Circle's first studio, May 1979. </span></td></tr>
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Above a picture of my basement after we left the Taylor Free Methodist Church as Youth Ministers. I wasn't cut out for ministry work. But the Church's headquarters almost immediately hired me and two friends to produce media for them. Behind the projection screen was a large darkroom with a 10-foot long sink made from urethane coated plywood. A home made six-foot long slide sorting light table is against the right wall. Clients would come to this humble but well-equipped abode to review our work. David Condon's "Crab Apple" hangs to the left of the screen. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">FULL CIRCLE COMMUNICATIONS, INC</span><br />
A Great Company of Wonderful People.</div>
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We produced many awesome projects for Fortune 100 companies.</div>
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Front L-R: <b>Gary Weinfurther*</b> (Computer Software Mgr.), <b>Gail Cody</b> (Document Processor), <b>Tony Amore* </b>(Audio Technician), <b>Kelly Welhusen</b> (Production Secretary), <b>Dave Girson</b> (Graphics Supervisor). Middle (L-R) <b>Susan Hurst </b>(VP, Graphics Mgr., Interactive Producer), <b>Julie Haggard</b> (VP Administration & Finance), <b>Jacque McClure*</b> (Electronic Publishing Supervisor). Back (L-R): <b>Bob Peckham*</b> (Producer & Director), <b>Curt LaLonde</b> (Development Mgr/Writer), <b>Daryl Hutchinson</b> (Graphic Designer/Artist), <b>Stan Williams</b> (President/Janitor), <b>Tom McGregor</b> (Account Manager, Product Coordinator), <b>Paul Gustafson</b> (Producer, Project Director). [* Contract Associate]</td></tr>
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At Full Circle, I discovered the irony of owning your own production company. I wanted to shoot, direct, produce, edit (all the cool stuff)...and be involved in the creative process. But that's not how owning a company turned out for me. I was generally unable to do what you see me doing at the right. Instead, I was in meetings reviewing legal and financial documents, settling employee problems, or taking clients out to lunch. I missed the "real" work. Closing down Full Circle was heartbreaking and traumatic. But one of the benefits was that I eventually got back to doing what I wanted to do in the first place. </div>
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The first hint that I might be interested in something beyond the industrial and corporate media world came in the form of a storybook Pam bought to read to the kids at bedtime—THE STORY OF HOLLY AND IVY by Scottish author Rumer Godden. The girls thought it would make a great Christmas movie. At Full Circle we wrote Rumer's agent in New York, but they ignored us. Finally we wired Rumer a planter of holly and ivy to her home in Scotland with a note from Trudy asking Rumer to sell me an option on her story. We immediately got a call from her NY agent. A few weeks later we flew to NY to meet Rumer and sign the option. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yours truly, Rumer Godden, and Trudy in the New York offices of Curtis Brown, Ltd.</td></tr>
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We wrote a screenplay, in part with my future writing partner Bill Wiitala, and were able to pitch it to Disney in L.A.. But it never went much further. The option expired and we didn't know what else to do. We were naive. Needless to say we have a terrific script...and perhaps someday we can make the movie about Holly, a little orphan girl who wanders a quant English village on a snowy Christmas Eve looking for her imagined grandmother's house and in the process finds an enchanted toy shop and an orphaned doll named Ivy.</div>
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During our NY trip, in an effort to figure out how to produce the animated characters in the magical Toy Shop, we paid a visit to the inventor of half the muppets on Sesame Street, Kermit Love...of who Kermit the Frog is named. Love often appeared in the background of Sesame Street episodes. He was a great host and offered to work with us on the project should we get it funded. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trudy meets Kermit Love and "talks" to another of his creations—SNUGGLES. </td></tr>
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The puppet's animator is just out of frame, but Trudy talked to the bear, not the person who in full view was working the "character." Amazing how all that works. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-69331048940344215461980-07-01T08:55:00.000-07:002015-09-12T08:56:13.953-07:00Institute in Basic Youth Conflicts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As I discuss in the book, Pam and I first attended a "Bill Gothard" seminar, as many called the Institute in Basic Youth Conflicts, in Dallas. After returning to Detroit we attended several other years, often taking youth or our own children when they got into their teens. </div>
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Some saw his style of practical Christianity as prescriptive and legalistic, and indeed some applied his stuff that way. Pam and I took to moderate road, and where we saw his ideas as Biblical we tried to adopt them.</div>
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But, for me, there was a second learning, and that had to do with the power of the narrative to hold an audience's attention. This first and second set of images are quit ironic. It's hard to image a quiet spoken man with black and white overhead project holding an arena fill with 10,000 people captive for even an hour. Gothard did it for 30 hours, over a 6-day span. I later took serious note of how it worked and hot it applies to the critical storytelling habits of Hollywood filmmakers. Bill just didn't have the visuals, sound effects, chase scenes, or big name stars. It was simple storytelling...with a message. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bill Gothard and his singular prop—and overhead projector.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top and above pictures taken at Detroit, Cobo Hall Arena (circa 1980).</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seminar Notebooks and Character Sketches Book (on animals, not humans ????)</td></tr>
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The above side-by-side images represent a sampling of the materials one collected over the years. The red, 2"-binder was from our first seminar in Dallas. Thereafter we were handed perfect bound books, with far fewer pages. The golden ring-binder was for the IBYC Advanced Leadership Seminar I attended in Detroit. And on the bottom of the lefthand image was one of many publication we'd received (for free) over the years on developing strong moral character traits in the lives of our children. Excellently published, but boring to read. Of the dozens of books, and encouragements we received from IBYC they mostly lacked the magic of the live seminar—human interest, well-told narratives. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-60171970185717356931975-02-01T09:09:00.000-08:002015-10-04T10:47:48.091-07:00Sandy Corporation & Harley-Davidson University<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The the mid-to late 1990's I was the Operations Director for Sandy Corporation on the Harley-Davidson Account. That mean I spent the whole year leading a small team organizing and developing training for a winter meeting event held in a sun-city called Dealer Operations Training (DOT). Harley was in the process of converting all of its dealerships into state of the art destinations. Sandy's job was to assist Harley in moving their dealers into the the best business practices of retail sales and service operations. Sandy was particularly expert at this because of its decades of experience working with the automobile companies.<br />
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While I lead the Sandy effort, DOT was held in San Diego, Phoenix, Dallas, New Orleans, and for two years in Ft. Lauderdale, where the above pictures were taken. (L) The H-D clothing store in the convention center lobby, and (R) Yours Truly with Willie Davison, the famed motorcycle designer. Willie was the son of the company's president, and grandson of it's founder...both named William.</div>
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My H-D client, Bill Bailey talking to my Sandy boss, VP John Rusche. Both Bill and John were two of the best people I ever worked for. Between then, in the background is John Wycoff, a well known motorcycle writer, author, speaker.</div>
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My H-D on-site team standing behind me. (L-R) Doug (facilities), Barb (instruction), Mark (audio-visual), Judith (coordinator), and an unknown gentleman who worked with one of our vendors.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5X4guPFohJO2c3WssB0QeSuc9n8rBwPadQE7z-A-T9CqEdkLAF7B7GAqEDPg2HBbR5uMyXLG5Q15Eh0MyFF81tqttwIi3RI9jacjMg0CqW41bNKe2XpI104u-0csZuz3Oavi7QCioBBQ/s1600/Dinner%2526Steve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5X4guPFohJO2c3WssB0QeSuc9n8rBwPadQE7z-A-T9CqEdkLAF7B7GAqEDPg2HBbR5uMyXLG5Q15Eh0MyFF81tqttwIi3RI9jacjMg0CqW41bNKe2XpI104u-0csZuz3Oavi7QCioBBQ/s400/Dinner%2526Steve.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(Top) A Thank You Dinner at a high-end Northville, MI restaurant celebrating another successful DOT year. In the foreground Lou and Judith Marchinda (my Sandy coordinator and informal Catholic sponsor who God put in my path during my journey), me and Pam, and in the back Steve and Barb Levine. Barb was my freelance instructional design advisor and coordinator, and her husband Steve happened to be the department head for the University of Michigan Occupational Safety graduate school...an ironic position.</div>
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(Bottom) Steve and Barb both purchase Harley's and started to ride them. One summer Steve was almost killed by an elderly man who made a left hand turn in his pickup in front of Steve who was riding at 50 mph on a country road. Steve spent over two years recovering from the accident, and at one point was put into an induced coma for weeks to help his body heal. I visited him weekly in the hospital and rehabilitation center, and the last time I was with him we walked along a beach in Florida where he and Barb were considering retiring. Ironically, these two families played great counter-parts in my faith journey. Lou and Judith were devout Catholics and Judith counseled me on spiritual matters constantly. On the other hand Steve and Barb were devoutly agnostic...although Steve let me lay hands on his various injured appendages during his recovery and pray for him. </div>
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(Top, L-R) At my last DOT event: Ron Hutchinson (VP H-D Parts and Service), Yours Truly, Jeff Blustein (H-D Chairman), and <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: UniversRoman, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">Ralph “Benny” E. Suggs</span>, who had just retired from the Navy as a Rear Admiral and was hired by H-D as their new director of training for the retiring Bill Bailey. The plan all along was that after ten years, Harley would take their DOT training in-house and phase Sandy out of the business. Thus, my job phased out with it.</div>
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(Bottom) Judith "worships" Mark T. for finding the last piece of the jig-saw puzzle that kept us busy during down-time at a DOT event.</div>
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(L) Yours Truly and Nephew Bob who came over to Ft. Lauderdale for a day's visit at the end of a DOT event. Here's we're standing on the deck of a dinner-boat I had rented for all the Harley and Sandy staff to celebrate the end of another DOT. AT the right, (top) is Judith and Doug Olsen showing off their dinner plates at a birthday bash we had for Bill Bailey at a local fish restaurant. I ordered Tuna but didn't realize it came raw. I went hungry that night. (below) Rich Teerlink, H-D President, with Doug Olsen. At this event Doug was not only an instructor for a class on Customer Service, but also keynoted. I knew Doug from Highland Park Baptist Church where he was the long-haired Harley rider who was principle of the high-school and Sunday Bible teacher. (see the book)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-36697964909632842491974-04-01T13:26:00.002-07:002021-11-20T15:16:28.894-08:00Stan & Pam's Baptisms at St. James<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><b>April 11, 1998 Stan's Baptism (Easter Vigil)</b></span></div>
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St. James Catholic Church, Novi, MI. The Easter Vigil Mass begins outside. A bonfire it lit and blessed, and from that the Christ Candle is lit (which Fr. Cronk is doing in the left image above.) After marking the five-foot high candle with the signs of Christ's wounds and the date, personal processional candles are lit from the Christ Candle (Ed Wolfrum, my sponsor) and I hold ours and wait to process into the church. Under my arm, I hold my baptismal robes. </div>
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Fr. Cronk baptizes me halfway through the Mass celebration. The baptistry is in the back of the naive, next to the entrance. Like the wash basin of the ancient Hebrew Temple which was outside the Holy of Holies, it is through the washing of the waters of baptism that we enter the church and approach altar. </div>
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At left, after the Easter Vigil Fr. Cronk, me wearing my baptismal stole, and a smiling (!) Pam. She was not yet Catholic and was very unsure of what I was doing. See her Postscript in the book. At right I'm making some esoteric theological point to my guests (how to find the pizzeria we're all going to at 1 AM). L-R Pam, Judith and Lou Marchinda, me, and Ed Wolfrum. </div>
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><b>January 21, 1999 — Pam's Baptism</b></span></div>
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Fr. Cronk (provisionally) baptizes Pam, as a smiling April (left) and Yours Truly (right, behind Cronk) look on. The discussion about whether or not to wear a wig for Pam's baptism (she had just undergone chemotherapy), is in the book. </div>
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Ed Wolfrum, and Sue Wolfrum put on Pam's baptismal stole after her baptism. In the background are Millie and Bill Talbot, who were originally from England and members of the Church of England, although we knew them from attending Highland Park Baptist, and from sailing on the Detroit River aboard their Cheoy Lee, 42-foot clipper ketch. Behind Fr. Cronk and barely visible is Bill Wiitala, my Baptist-Quaker writing partner. </div>
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Months after my baptism, I returned with Ed Wolfrum, my sponsor, to see Fr. Hardon (see the book for the story.) I'm holding a MovieGuide issues that featured a review of a movie about Mother Teresa., below a movie about Mr. Bean (!). Fr. John Hardon was Mother Teresa's spiritual director and often traveled to India, the final time to preside over her official, and private, Catholic funeral. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680798865204265966.post-60682566664950949801973-01-01T09:37:00.000-08:002017-04-30T07:48:04.412-07:00McDonnell Douglas & NASA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The unsolicited, but much appreciated, job offer letter from McDonnell Douglas. This is the letter Pam read to me over the phone as I stood in a phone booth in Houston after visiting the Manned Spacecraft Center with Bob. Little did I know the ironic occurrence would bring Pam and me back to Houston within 2-years. The job offer was a testament to the excellent reputation Greenville College had with surrounding corporations, because it sure was not a testament of my academic achievements. You can click on the letter and do your own calculation but my starting salary, which to me and Pam at the time was substantial ($4.55/hour), was far less than today's minimum wage. This reminds me that the demand to raise the minimum wage is only symbolic and only temporarily help the worker. Higher minimum wages always lead to higher prices. The solution is for workers to improve their skills, and get a better jobs while keeping prices low. </div>
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After 9 months working the the Commercial Aircraft Collision Avoidance System, and then designing test equipment and writing reports on Skylab uplink data communication gear, I was asked if I wanted to transfer to Houston Operations and train astronauts. WHAT! Are you kidding? I wanted to be an astronaut. In Houston I was given this mug with my name in gold, and spent nearly 3 years writing check lists, malfunction procedures, and training the Skylab crews in the use of the same. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymJdyQ9RIzGWVIzunui63chweIwBLvkiD-dEDzKMJZYrNTRjdq2vA7wrxkCZXl8t3tPwaXxajVD3W_Lrcj8fMZtgiOa2kdPbO-WYs-1cpa5_9eGZ8piPaDS-PCImEHoeVoxcH-evMBsI/s1600/Skylab+CW+Malfunction+Procedure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymJdyQ9RIzGWVIzunui63chweIwBLvkiD-dEDzKMJZYrNTRjdq2vA7wrxkCZXl8t3tPwaXxajVD3W_Lrcj8fMZtgiOa2kdPbO-WYs-1cpa5_9eGZ8piPaDS-PCImEHoeVoxcH-evMBsI/s640/Skylab+CW+Malfunction+Procedure.jpg" width="507" /></a></div>
In Houston at the McDonnell Douglas offices, I spent weeks holed up with an engineer from St. Louis pouring over electronic schematics and imaging what could go wrong during the flight, and then devising a procedure to correct it. We did this with a blackboard and chalk, then took Polaroid pictures (like this one) and then I translated them to a printable flow chart. The procedure depicted here is what to do if it's apparent that the Caution and Warning System aboard the spacecraft malfunctions. The final procedure that appeared in the check list appears below. </div>
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We spent most of our time proof reading check lists of the linear and branching kind shown here. One of the biggest problems was the consistent use of acronyms. </div>
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CW: Caution and Warning</div>
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sw: noun for switch</div>
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cb: circuit breaker</div>
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PWR: Power</div>
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Thus, "CW PWR sw" referred to the Caution and warning power on/off switch.</div>
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Keeping the crew free form illness was a major concern. Thus, there was minimum contact with them. Around Building 4, where their offices were on the third floor, and our NASA contacts were on the second, there were posters by cartoonist Johnny Hart reminding us to stay away from crew members if we were sick. Johnny, a Christian who controversially drew about his faith in major syndicated newspapers, was given an honor by NASA for his contribution to their safety. The poster at right, on the wall next to the elevators, was one of my favorite.</div>
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At one Skylab patch stickers by Johnny Hart, reflecting his Wizard of Id comic strip, appeared around the NASA campus. We think it was his pitch for the official Skylab patch. Too bad....he lost out to the image on the right. </div>
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My first exposure to anything related to television, film, or video was this book. Little did I know it was a foreshadowing of my eventual career. On board Skylab was a video camera and videotape recorder with a 25 minute capacity. The crew would video record scenarios (a sequence of scenes) of an experiment, or commentary on the recorder, and then the recorder would playback the video tape to ground control. They could also transmit live video "back to earth." </div>
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As related in the text, on my last day at the Manned Spacecraft Center I was able to collect the autographs of a few of the astronauts and NASA personnel I had worked with. I never worked with Alan Shepard but I did corner him as he entered the astronaut office building and got his signature. It's on the bottom image at the top left: "To Stan with best wishes, Alan Shepard." Immediately under his is Charles Conrad, Joe Kerwin, and Paul Weitz, who were the first Skylab crew honored on the sticker at on the right.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxL7Tnh2fzyaOjMpsxdbxbHHNZDi25LX6eem4Ar9ImM0Uvjf-XNvZzDRBQAInPIO2xR2brgwIwKQEWu7A3d87H7FQUCGrusKEL_OaFGajveZ5-DSCJHsFdXTZNzPAXhC7w6oiPdGrWGY/s1600/Skylab-1G-trainer-600w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxL7Tnh2fzyaOjMpsxdbxbHHNZDi25LX6eem4Ar9ImM0Uvjf-XNvZzDRBQAInPIO2xR2brgwIwKQEWu7A3d87H7FQUCGrusKEL_OaFGajveZ5-DSCJHsFdXTZNzPAXhC7w6oiPdGrWGY/s640/Skylab-1G-trainer-600w.jpg" width="377" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfn3Bcd_Pk0pWdIEkzCU9cD0yzZKMsYqGVcQ5JwlUJhXEPekpLia3aHtsC4ELyGuVLdLLwFE8BV9nblasg_XKrclD3ReztdbfzFGTvXNEeaLmNqhOXOPMfbiZUEpLpGZ6Cpv3MSO6smU/s1600/Jet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfn3Bcd_Pk0pWdIEkzCU9cD0yzZKMsYqGVcQ5JwlUJhXEPekpLia3aHtsC4ELyGuVLdLLwFE8BV9nblasg_XKrclD3ReztdbfzFGTvXNEeaLmNqhOXOPMfbiZUEpLpGZ6Cpv3MSO6smU/s200/Jet.jpg" width="169" /></a>That's about it for this post. The one picture I wish I had was of our dog "Jet" chasing the NASA ducks around the pond in the middle of campus. Pam had come to pick me up. We had a convertible, and Jet, seeing the fowl in the distance, had jumped out of the car. I was on the second floor of Building 4 and just happened to be looking out at the pond that a couple dozen ducks called home. Suddenly they all took to flight...and a second later I saw this black German Shepard mutt jetting into view barking at his missed opportunity. And a moment after that I saw my wife run after the dog. She wasn't going to catch him, so I reluctantly said adios to my work associates and joined Pam in the chase.</div>
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