by jphilo | Dec 31, 2008 | Current Events
While the past month brought unexpected joy to our family, it’s been a month full of challenges for Alicia Burghduff and her young son, Dane. On December 15 this thirty-something young mom from Harding County (the most northwestern county in South Dakota where we once lived), was in a single car accident on a remote stretch of Highway 85. She broke her pelvis and one leg, crushed an ankle and sustained burns on both legs. Somehow despite her injuries, she had the presence of mind to release her seat belt button and crawl away from the burning car. A truck driver saw the flames, stopped to investigate, and called for help. Alicia credits him with saving her life. She was flown to Denver where she’s endured numerous surgeries and making good progress.
This accident isn’t the first tragedy Alicia and Dane have endured in their young lives. A few years back Alicia’s husband Shawn, a strapping and healthy young man, died when he contracted a mysterious virus that settled in his kidneys. After her husband’s death, Alicia returned to college and competed her master’s degree while raising her young son. Her courage and determination before the accident amazed and humbled me, but now her attitude is astonishing.
The Philo connection with the Burghduffs (Shawn and his parents, Gerald and Becky, and his sister Natalie, rather than with Alicia) go way back. During my years as a country school teacher, Shawn and I did first, second, and third grade together. Our family spent a lot of time at their ranch, visiting and eating meals together. After Allen was born and throughout his surgeries, they were a constant source of support for us. When we head out west to visit, Gerald and Becky insist we stay with them.
Over the years God has bound our families together with ties of laughter and loss, joy and sadness. All we can do to support Alicia and Dane is pray for them and leave messages at their CarePage website. I invite you to go to www.carepages.com, become a member, and then type in alicia_burghduff to track her progress. You’ll also see pictures of Alicia and Dane, who looks so much like his dad at that age, it takes my breath away.
At the end of the New Testament book of James, the author says true religion is to care for widows and orphans. Though in this case, distance complicates the fulfillment of that command, I’ll do what I can. Each day of the new year, I’ll pray for this determined young widow and her little boy. Wrap them in your arms, dear Father. Hold them close.
by jphilo | Nov 27, 2008 | Current Events
Today, our Thanksgiving group of nine did a formidable amount of food damage. After we nibbled on Chex Mix, the relish tray, cheese and crackers and then gorged on turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, broccoli, sweet potatoes, and cranberries.
The damage control component of the day was the half hour walk squeezed in between the main course and dessert. What else explains how nine people could belly back up to the table and eat fifteen pieces of pie liberally topped with whipped cream? Fresh air and sunshine is worth its weight in pie is what I say.
The way I figure things, if I spend every waking hour of the next two days walking outdoors at top speed, the damage inflicted over the past twenty-four hours might be reversed. Of course unless everyone eats all the Chex Mix and leftover pie while I’m gone, I’ll come inside and resume my hand to mouth existence immediately. And if they eat like that, they’ll be in terrible shape by the end of our holiday weekend.
Since I’m wholly unselfish woman, I’ve come up with a solution that cancels out my overeating without putting the rest of the family at risk: I take my share of the leftover pie and Chex Mix and eat it while pounding out a few miles on my sister’s treadmill.
The idea of having the fam fawning extolling my selfless concern is quite repellant. So I won’t mention my damage control plan to them. Instead, I’ll sneak into the kitchen, nab the last piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie and a quart of Chex Mix, and power up the treadmill.
The fam doesn’t ever need to know how I sacrificed for their health. It could ruin their Thanksgiving, and I love them too much to heap guilt upon them. So please, don’t tell them how blessed they are to have me in their midst. They never need to know.
by jphilo | Nov 25, 2008 | Current Events
Last February Anne suggested that Hiram, Mom and I come see an original musical written by her college drama professor. “It’s based on the bad stories from the Bible,” she explained. “And it’s weird, edgy.”
She wasn’t kidding. The Northwestern College play, which is titled Terror Texts, was haunting, hard to watch, sad. It impressed me so much, I wrote about it in my March column in our church newsletter. I wasn’t the only one impressed by the show. A man from an organization that watches college shows, provided feedback to the cast. He suggested they resurrect the show in the fall and enter it in a national college contest. So they did. This fall, the new improved version of Terror Texts premiered and even garnered an AP story that ran in newspapers nationwide and on state television. The article was positive and thought-provoking, but Anne says the college has gotten a lot of hate mail concerning it. She comes home tonight for Thanksgiving break, and I hope to learn more about the controversy.
But for now, I’m going to brag a little. When you read the AP story, pay particular attention to the description of the wedding dress. Anne, who works in the costume department, created the thing. She said it was really fun to spray paint it and then singe it. To think her maddening habit of dressing her Barbie dolls in Kleenex years ago led to one of her creations being mentioned in an article that ran nationwide. That’s our Anne!
Hmm…come to think of it, before our Anne gets home tonight I need to hide the Barbie dolls and the Kleenex, and the spray paint and the matches and my wedding dress. It’s the price of creativity. Or maybe, it’s the price of college.
by jphilo | Nov 21, 2008 | Current Events
Gracie Allen, a comedianne from the 1920s through the 1950s, may be old news to you, but she’s a continual current event at our house. Her oddball humor always appealed to me, so in the early 1990s, I brought the movie Damsel in Distress, starring Gracie and her husband George Burns, for a good laugh with the fam.
By the end of the first musical number, our four-year-old daughter began a love affair with Gracie that endures to this day. In fact, Anne became a bit of a Gracie Allen expert when she studied the actress and dressed like her on the evening the fourth grade students shared their findings with the public. To this day, Anne drops Gracie tidbits, gleaned from Gracie and George’s autobiographies and memoirs, into conversation.
“George and Gracie adopted two children.”
“George says Gracie was the brains in comedy team.”
“Gracie was the love of George’s life.”
Right before the recent presidential election, NPR ran a story about Gracie Allen’s 1940 run for the White House as the Surprise Party’s candidate. The piece had barely begun when Hiram came in the room. “Shh…,” I said when he started to speak. “Listen to this.”
We couldn’t wipe the silly grins off our faces while we listened. The announcer explained how the campaign began as a publicity stunt on the Burns and Allen radio show, but took on a life of its own. Gracie even did a whistlestop campaign from California to Omaha, Nebraska where the Surprise Party Convention was held. The article included audio clips of some of G & G’s routines and Gracie’s campaign speeches. Pretty funny stuff.
As soon as the piece ended, I emailed Anne about the program. She’s pretty busy at college these days, so I don’t know if she’s had time to hear it yet. If you’d like to listen in, click on this link and prepare to chuckle. The story is guaranteed to alleviate any lingering post-election stress.
In light of today’s topic, there’s only one way to end this blog. “Say goodnight, Gracie.”
“Goodnight, Gracie.”
by jphilo | Nov 17, 2008 | Current Events
For the past few weeks, Hiram’s been on pins and needles preparing for a public forum about what Muslims really believe. The forum was arranged by Imran Dotani, one of the intervention cardiologists he works with in the cath lab. Dr. Dotani asked Hiram to attend as a Christian who has read the Koran.
Hiram read the Muslim holy book as a way to reach out to the doctor he works with every day. Then he challenged the doctor to read the Bible. I don’t know if Dr. Dotani has finished reading it, but the two of them have developed an interesting relationship thourh their discussions about their beliefs.
I don’t know if the doctor quite understood what he was asking my quiet, behind-the-scenes husband to do. Speaking in front of people is way, way out of Hiram’s comfort zone. But he did it because his relationship with his co-worker outweighed his personal comfort. So for the past few weeks, Hiram prayed for wisdom, looked up Bible verses, and rehearsed possible answers to unknown questions. Why? Because he wanted his words, actions and attitudes to convey love for people he doesn’t agree with, but cares for deeply.
Hiram didn’t sit with the panel, but with the audience of about 50 – 60 people. And during the two hourse, he said only one word – Hebrew – in answer to a question about the original language of the Old Testament.
Hiram was relieved to say only one word at yesterday’s forum. He didn’t believe me my assertion that he said much more than “Hebrew” during the afternoon. But I saw respect in the doctor’s eyes as he greeted my husband before the forum and chatted with him afterwards. And the doctor’s wife Nina, who I’ve visited with twice and parties and interviewed once for a magazine article, hugged me. We caught up on each other’s families. She asked about my book and said she plans to buy and read it. We decided the four of us need to get together for supper sometime.
Hiram said plenty yesterday afternoon. Enough to keep the doctor thinking for a long time. My husband is a very quiet man. When he speaks, people listen.
by jphilo | Nov 7, 2008 | Current Events
Monday, the sun was shining and the temperature was in the mid-seventies. Today, there’s a skiff of snow on the grass, and the temperature won’t get out of the thirties. The change in the weather is a real shock to the system. But I’m not going to complain. I’m just grateful the weather held on Monday, the day a dozen or so local farmers harvested grain for a fifty-year-old farmer, Lyle Babbitt, who was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer two weeks ago.
I drove to their farm Monday morning and took pictures of the big event so the Babbitts would have a constant reminder of their community’s support. Lyle’s wife Brenda babysat for Anne (from birth to age 3) and Allen (from age 6 to age 8) before her first son was born. She used to take our kids to the farm sometimes. Anne was too young to remember much about it, but Allen has fond memories of the farm, of calling Lyle and reading jokes to him from whatever joke book he’d bought from the monthly school book order.
Wednesday, I emailed Allen about Lyle. Our son was pretty shook and called later in the day. “Why Lyle?” he asked. That’s the question the whole town’s been asking. Why Lyle? He doesn’t drink or smoke, is a wonderful father and husband, a valued hospital employee, a wise farmer, a Christian who lives his faith every minute of the day.
The only people not asking that question are Lyle and Brenda. “We’re Christians so we know everything works out for good,” Brenda told the newspaper reporter who came out to cover the harvest story. “We just don’t know what that’s going to be and God’s timing is not our timing. We’re just taking a day at a time.”
“At least it’s a beautiful day and we’re making the most of every day we can. Praise the Lord,” Lyle added. “Every day is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.”
I read the article to Allen on the phone. He was quiet for a moment and said, “When I have a chance, I’m going to write to Lyle and and list every joke we told each other. I can remember a lot of them. And Mom,” he added, “tell them I love them, and I’m praying for them.”
I hung up the phone, thankful for a double harvest: Lyle’s grain is safely stored in the elevator, and the compassion his love reaped compassion in my children’s hearts. Will you join me in praying for his sons, Chuck (16) and Eddie (13)? Pray that Lyle’s love and the influence of men of character and faith who fill in the gap after their father is gone, will lead them to trust God as their parents do. Pray for people of compassion to surround them and comfort them in the hard days to come.
