Hometown: Yesterday and Today

I’ve said many times, growing up in my “Industrial Mayberry” home town of Whiting, Indiana was the best thing that could happen to a kid. Coupled with the Robertsdale neighborhoods, it was a marvelous full-service community that allowed for youthful hopes, wishes and dreams to come true. Equipped with quality churches, public and parish schools, businesses, theaters, parks and social gathering places, townspeople thrived and families enjoyed amenities that enriched and enhanced each day. This is about those places of the heart.

As a school kid in the forties and fifties, I was amazed that a city the size and population of Whiting had such variety and diversity of establishments: Seven major supermarkets: A&P, National, Kroger, IGA, Park View, Jewel and Wieners. In addition, several dozen corner grocery stores served residents in both Whiting and Robertsdale. Various civic organizations and neighborhood taverns offered places to meet and enjoy libations. Banquet facilities provided venues for weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations. Long-time residents remember St. Mary’s Hall and Slovak Dome. Countless activities were held at the Panel Room, Rose Room, Knights of Columbus, Whiting Moose Lodge, Elk’s Lodge, Eagles, Sokol Club, V.F.W. and American Legion. The Community Center had facilities for a variety of social and athletic activities. Six Catholic Churches each had a parish school except Sts. Peter and Paul: Sacred Heart, Saint John the Baptist, Saint Adalberts, Immaculate Conception, and Saint Mary’s. Whiting also had various denominations of Protestant Churches: Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian and Baptist. There was also a Jewish Synagogue, The Masonic Temple and places of worship for ethnic nationalities. Each helped fill the spiritual needs of community residents. To serve families in time of bereavement, Whiting had five funeral homes: Owens, Baran, Schlater, Kosier, and Spanburg.

There were a number of banks and dry-cleaning/laundry businesses. Several jewelry stores, shoe repair, men’s and women’s clothiers, furniture and dime stores ,newspaper and stationery store, shoe stores, barber shops and beauty salons, restaurants, poultry and dairy stores, bowling alleys, diners , doctor’s and dentist offices, flower shops, drugstores, pharmacy’s, taverns, automobile dealers: Schlatter/France Ford, Hansen Buick, Ciesar’s Chrysler/Plymouth, Swarthout Chevrolet, and Lake County Motors. Two movie theaters: Hoosier and Capital. Standard Oil brand service stations dominated Indianapolis Boulevard and Calumet Avenue. Others like Sunoco, Sinclair and Shell made sure resident’s automobile fuel tanks were topped off. Lumber yards, general merchandise, utility company, insurance agencies, and a sundry of specialized entrepreneurs provided goods and services: everything from A to Z.

Municipal buildings placed throughout Whiting and Robertsdale like gems in a custom setting served community, consumers, residents, and visitors alike: The Whiting Fire Department, Police Department, The Whiting Community Center, Standard Hotel, Central States Bank , Whiting City Schools, Post Office, Whiting Park’s lakefront and beach, Standard Diamonds, Whiting’s Carnegie Library, City Hall, Robertsdale’s Forsythe Park and Bobby Beach. Safety and security were Hallmarks of Whiting-Robertsdale neighborhoods and families thrived in an environment knowing playgrounds, parks, neighborhoods, and recreation areas enhanced well-being. Complimenting these locations were numerous empty lots that served as playing fields, neighborhood gardens, and places where kids could dig up a supply of worms on their way to fish at Wolf Lake.

It is understandable why this Little City by The Lake engenders such heartfelt emotions and allegiance in residents. This mile and a half square municipality has it all. This Industrial “Mayberry” is the complete package. Its geography combines Currier & Ives with Norman Rockwell’s paintings into a living portrait. Throughout the community, residents and business people showcase municipal quality and character through well-kept neighborhoods and business district that reflects pride of stewardship. Whiting was (and still is) the Capital of the Calumet Region.

Today, Whiting is in the midst of a Renaissance. Thanks to the City’s elected officials, astute organization, effective management, financial intelligence, insightful planning and high standards of performance by those in position of responsibility, coupled with the support of residents, Whiting is moving forward. Along with Pierogi Fest, an internationally famous food extravaganza, new Infrastructure, architecturally sensitive renovation, environment friendly landscape, well-planned remodeling, and new construction reflect commitment to families, businesspeople, visitors, and community neighbors that the core values upon which Whiting was founded are being reaffirmed. Each generation captures and keeps personal memories of experiences derived from growing up and living in their Hometown. Those times fill countless pages of one’s life scrapbook with delicious images and recollections. I’ve always been grateful to the people who helped me along the way, for family and friends who shared these times, and, for the home town that made a positive, constructive difference in my life.

At 70

When I was a kid, I often volunteered my age or grade in school. A particular age or grade was a badge of honor or position of celebrity. Grade school gave way to high school and each one of those four years increased prominence. Age became a marker along the way to measure independence and self-reliance. One learned early that a particular age signaled privilege: later bedtimes, watching particular television shows, or going to the movies at night. We became aware that as one accumulated years, gratuity increased on birthdays, holidays and special occasions. During adolescence, coins were replaced with denominations of folding money. As one's personal list of wants and needs increased, items were prioritized according to available funds and social pressure. Spending conflicted with saving: immediate versus deferred gratification.

Various milestones validated one's accomplishments or achievements: work permit, Social Security Card, driver's license, bank account, part-time job, tax return, and a sundry of associated responsibilities. Shopping for clothes transitioned from going with Mon to shopping with friends or by oneself. Decisions went from parental mandate to personal choice. Constant adult supervision eased into relaxed overseer and ebbed until individual sovereignty was bestowed.

Growing up, we knew that someone would always be there to set boundaries and borders; someone available to keep us safe, guide, counsel, advice and support. Mostly family at first, but with each orbit around the sun, others would assume roles to help with life's journey: teachers, clergy, classmates, peers, co-workers, friends, acquaintances and, occasionally strangers. Bits and pieces of human interaction, tidbits and parcels of wisdom about life-learned lessons were dispensed at random for acceptance or rejection.

We crossed thresholds, met challenges, succeeded, failed, stumbled, struggled, achieved, and continually added to the depth and expansion of our intelligence and intellect. Teen years gave way to "becoming legal," the magic age of twenty-one. Stark evidence for males included the Selective Service Draft Card, proof of auto insurance, and an Operator's License kept in one's wallet. Somehow we survived the hurdle of turning sixteen, arguing for grown-up privileges. By nineteen. there was a car to drive and pay for with your name on the title. With graduation came post-high school choices: military service, college, factory or office work; stay home or live on your own. Relationships began to solidify and lifelong friends and new acquaintances join your journey and share adventures. A number of childhood friends disconnect and move on with their life. Re-connection will be limited to reunions, correspondence and occasional random meeting here and there. Affairs of the heart capture and consume your emotions causing pronouns "I" "mine" "me" to be replaced with "us" "ours" and "we." At the speed of life, the twenties fly by. The thirties seem to rocket along and that once solitary traveler now has a family and responsibilities that grow exponentially.

In the midst of the "prime of life," hours and days are consumed with work, family, obligations, duties, commitments, and promises that must be kept. There is struggle to enjoy Heaven's sunshine, stars, moonlight and rainbows. Even though we are in the "driver's seat," many things are out of our hands. Countless hours are spent worrying about things we cannot control. The accompanying anxiety, stress and emotional turmoil take a toll on mind, body, and spirit. Health and well-being are added to primary concerns.

Unexpectedly, medical abbreviations, maladies and terms assume significance shortly after one turns forty. Blood Pressure, cholesterol, Lipid profile and all enzymes in between are now topics for discussion during scheduled health checkups. Favorite foods are diet restricted. Salt, sugar, carbohydrates and calories are viewed as adversaries. Fats and grams are closely scrutinized as precaution against obesity, and diabetes. Bifocals are recommended after an annual eye exam. We become aware of limitations and changes that affect one's lifestyle. During youthful years, the candle burns at both ends; after forty, night-lights illuminate the way.

At fifty we are accustomed to yearly diagnostic tests; while at home, we become more comfortable watching others do what we used to do. Couches, recliners, TV remotes, and an ample supply of comfort food become favorite companions. We enjoy more completely, simple pleasures heretofore discounted as unimportant or wimpy. At sixty, we gear down obligation and gear up relaxation. Occasional naps and early bedtime are welcomed like dear friends. When retirement is offered, it's accepted with a smile bright enough to ripen bananas. At seventy we're content with ourselves. Competition takes a back seat to enjoyment, reverie, remembrance, and a do-as-you-please mind set of easy peaceful feelings. Flexible scheduling is readily adopted. Every day is a welcomed gift. The challenge is to stay well and enjoy Heaven's blessing: so many moments, so many memories; treasure the moments, savor the memories. The adventure continues. The best is yet to come!

Going My Way

The image of the kindly parish priest was portrayed in the 1944 movie, Going My Way. In that film, Bing Crosby, plays Father Charles O’Malley, a young priest assigned to “help out” the aging pastor, Father Fitzgibbons, of St. Dominic’s. In the course of the story, Father O’Malley revitalizes the parish, and makes lasting impressions on the parish’s youth—particularly, the youngsters he recruits for the boy’s choir. It’s a warm sweet gentle story of human goodness. It is one of my favorite movies. Usually, films do not mirror real-life, but, this story does. Read on.

As young parochial students at Sacred Heart School in Whiting, Indiana during the late 40’s and early 50’s, we were taught by the Sister of Providence along with Diocesan priests—Monsignor George Moorman, and Father John Daniels. By the time we were in 5th grade, Monsignor Moorman had retired, and a new pastor, Father Herman J. Miller, led the parish. The new pastor put Father Daniels in charge of the altar boys.

For parochial school boys, becoming an altar boy was a prestigious honor. It announced to everyone that you had learned the Latin prayers and mastered the intricate duties associated with serving Holy Mass. Only after Sister’s countless drills, rehearsals, and examinations would one be sanctioned as an altar boy. Serving Mass was very serious business.

The fictional St. Dominic’s had Father O’Malley. At Sacred Heart, we had Father Daniels. Father “D” as he was called by the students became our mentor. He was always there to give us needed advice, guidance, and keep us on the right track. A few of us had developed a proclivity for mischief, and worked Father D overtime! Students liked Father Daniels and looked up to him. He was pleasant and fun to be around. He always made you feel better about yourself after talking with him.

Boys had to be in sixth grade in order to become a server. Usually, the “rookie” altar boys were assigned the Friday evening novena with Father D. Here we learned how to properly carry the crucifix and candles, serve benediction, and become familiar with the various aspect of being an altar boy. By seventh grade, we were serving at one of the two daily Masses—6:30 am or the 8:00 am all-school Mass. As a rule, Father Daniels had early Mass. I liked getting up early, so I volunteered or would trade with a buddy so I could serve 6:30 for Father D

I enjoyed serving for Father Daniels because, like the movie priest, he was understanding and patient. He didn’t get upset when my Latin was less than perfect or sanctuary bells rang at the wrong time. He’d put you at ease with kind words and a smile. When the liturgy was over, he always thanked us for serving. His words of appreciation always buoyed spirits and self confidence.

As an eight-grader, I again volunteered to serve early Mass. By now, we were seasoned veterans and selected to serve weddings, funerals, Holy Days and other special liturgical occasions—Lent’s Stations of the Cross and, especially Holy Week. Through it all, our respect and admiration for Father D. grew.

In Going My Way, Father O’Malley counsels his students and gives their life direction. So did Father D. A week before graduation from Sacred Heart, in June of 1954, he called our class together in church and talked to us about our Faith, our future, and life’s purpose: the sacredness of living; the challenges we would face in high school and choices as an adult. He reminded us to always do our best. Then, gave us his blessing and dismissed us in Latin: Ite, missa est—Go, you are sent forth.

Like the screen’s Father O’Malley, Father Daniels knew the importance of providing children with nurturing, guidance and love. He realized, too, that impressionable youngsters draw freely from examples presented to them by adults. Through his actions and words, Father D. enhanced and enriched countless lives and gave direction to our journey.

Today, Father Daniels, as a senior priest, is retired and in fragile health. I want him to know that after all these years, I still remember the lessons he taught. As a former student, I’d like to return his kindness. I know my Latin is a little rusty, so be generous with this aging altar boy, and permit him just the smidgen of a benediction: Dominus Vobiscum—Lord is with you. Beyond words, I am thankful to Father D. for Going My Way.

ADDICTION OF AN ELECTRONIC KIND

At times, one is mystified how quickly humans develop addiction to things and adopt life style habits to accommodate their insatiable craving. Electronic addiction began with Bell’s telephone, crept in slowly with radio in the early twenties, expanded to television, accelerated in the seventies with the arrival of video games, and exploded when personal computers arrived on the scene. Today—with the combining of several communication technologies—society faces a full-fledged electronic dependence of gigantic proportion.

With the advent of cell phones, things began to change—rapidly. Where as before, callers had restricted mobility governed by the length of cord attached to hard-wired phones, cell phones gave unlimited mobility and availability to anyone with access to wireless technology.

As technology advanced, several electronic inter-relationships were created. Telephones, television, video games, computers, calculators and a sundry of gadgets formed the Internet’s mosaic of electrons and silicon circuits. Soon, a tsunami of microwave frequencies covered nearly every nook and cranny of planet Earth. Everyone, it seems wanted to peek through Microsoft’s Windows or take a healthy bite of the newest computerized Apple.

With the acceleration of technology, everyone could be in touch—anywhere, anytime. Using the appropriate device, one can watch movies, read books, check email, play games, plan schedules, list appointments, listen to music, talk, or text. Should one be so inclined, pictures and photographs can be transmitted instantaneously recording the present, moments before it becomes the past. As long as power is available, one has command of the information world at their fingertips: via desktop, laptop, brief case or shirt pocket.

But these advances come with a price. There is a type of electronic isolation that is unsettling: chips and circuitry erode personal face-to-face contact. In the years BC (Before Computers) individuals would actually visit with each other—in person. As wonderful as the telephone is, most conversations were prelude to an actual get together where one could experience and exchange human interaction through body language, eye contact, touch as well as words. One received a sense of connection by processing the emotional immediacy of transmitted signals to the senses.

Radio, unlike telephones or television, gives one the freedom to listen and do other things. Housewives in the 30’s and 40’s listened to radio programs while completing domestic chores. Old time radio was user-friendly, hands-free imagination. Household duties continued uninterrupted while listening to one’s favorite broadcast. As radios became more portable, listeners could enjoy programs wherever they chose. The distraction or loss of focus while listening to the radio was minimal. Television—not so much. Ears are far superior for multi-tasking than are eyes.

With television, further changes entered the American scene. Dinner hour now had an additional guest at the table, or, in front of TV trays. Family conversation was curtailed as watching took priority over talking. Television required a “captive” audience. It didn’t take long for television to separate family members requiring additional TV sets within the house. Competition between phone and screen vied for attention. Both appliances encourage a degree of solitary privacy. Multi-task activities are not compatible with TV viewing. Nevertheless, America eagerly embraces members of the electronic family and their offspring.

In contemporary society, it seems too many people believe they can multi-task using their eyes and still stay focused on primary activities. How many drivers talk on the phone while driving and get so involved in conversation they lose concentration and jeopardize others in traffic? Countless people, with thumbs flashing across keypads, text as they drive, walk, cross the street or try to do other things. Is it not possible to dine out without answering the cell phone? And why is there such a need to share one’s conversation with the entire restaurant? Is it too much of a mental task to turn off one’s cell phone during church service? Is one so consumed with their own self-importance that they need to be wired so strangers can see their electronic devices and secretly envy them? In funeral homes during wake services, cell phones signal one’s insensitivity. Videos flood the Internet with “electronic addicts” who walk into walls, fall into fountains, and damage vehicles, while texting. At sporting events, social gatherings, shopping malls, stores, classrooms, hallways, automobiles, and even public restrooms--addiction to texting is rampant. Can anyone be this important—or this lonely?

In order to curb addiction of an electronic kind, there is need for higher degrees of self- discipline, better decision-making, and a willingness to use these devices responsibly.

January

January believes it has squatter’s rights to the calendar because it is first in line. With a full month of thirty-one days, the first holiday of the year--New Year’s Day, and its menu of weather-related entrees, who can argue with such chronoscopic arrogance? Named after Janus, a Roman god of beginnings and endings, openings and closings; Janus is always portrayed as having two faces, one looking forward, one backward. January is his month because it is the time when the sun starts to return. He is the doorkeeper who watches over the entrance or beginning of the year.

Part of January’s prominence is due to the ritual of formulating one’s personal intentions and plans for the New Year. Amid celebrations with noise makers, confetti, and renditions of Auld Lang Syne at the stroke of midnight, people across the globe usher in the latest allotment of days by making resolutions, commitments, and hopeful toasts for laughter, love, good health and good fortune. Party hats and glasses filled with libation complete a resume worthy of January’s namesake. Such frenzy at the start of a New Year, looking both forward and backward is enough to give a Roman god whiplash.

But January is more than just a party and pretty faces. It is a time when winter displays its full strength and control on all living things. Freezing temperatures, icy roads, cold gloomy days, crystal clear dark nights and occasional visits of bright sunshine fill this initial cluster of days. January is both predictable and unpredictable. As the earth continues to orbit around the sun, daylight lengthens—first by a stingy few minutes, then, toward the end of the month, more generously. But January exacts a price for this additional sunlight by delivering only brightness while holding back on warmth. And just to remind us of its adventurous nature, January whips up on a moments notice, icy soufflés, snow drifts, and pellets of freezing rain that cover cars, coats and roadways with an abundance of freezy skid-stuff which challenge both ambulatory and driving skills. January’s precocious behavior keeps insurance agents and body shops well supplied with patrons who literally meet by accident. All these fender benders make Janus smile. Rumor has it that January invented wind chill. This is one month that is forever trying to stay young, with its thermometer readings usually in the teens or twenties. At times it regresses to single digits and below zero in an attempt to display total disregard for maturity. And, every now and then, just for laughs—a blizzard! If January wants a little more respect, it should change its ways by offering an annual Tax Freeze—and forget about the ice and snow. Being the time when we receive our W-2’s doesn’t do much either. But for those of us who celebrate their birthday in January—either Capricorn or Aquarius--we wholeheartedly appreciate the antics of this month. It is difficult to explain, but January makes us smile.

To inhabitants who live at forty-two degrees North Latitude, January is add-an-extra-blanket month, turn up the thermostat time, put on layers of flannel and get dressed before going to bed. Cuddling and snuggling is mandatory nightly behavior. January is a steaming hot cup of coffee before dawn, hot soup at lunch, and suppers served on heated plates. January is scurry from store to warm car, store to warm car, store to warm house. January is when shoppers use extra gas searching for parking spaces closer to the mall’s entrance. January is watching wildlife enjoy the bounty at feeders you keep filled. January is when school kids return to classrooms and moms regain the sanity of daily routine. January is when everyone considers heating their garages. January is the time when landscapers offer discounts for mower tune-ups and lawn care service. January is finding the courage to face both darkness and cold fetching the morning paper, setting out trash and letting Fido do his business. It’s also a time when residents battle nasty conditions taking down outdoor Christmas decorations. January is chapped lips, dry skin, red noses, watery eyes, cold feet and chilled bodies. January holds mystery why kids are impervious to frigid temperatures, revel in snow, enjoy sliding on ice, and rarely have their scarf tied or jacket fully zipped; while seasoned human units hunker down, stooped shouldered shivering to keep warm. January is a geriatric obstacle course. January is wool hats, mittens and boots. January teases and taunts one to move to lower latitudes.

By the end of the first thirty-one days, January is pretty much spent and willingly turns things over to February. As daylight increases, January’s envious look knows there will never be a draft to serve another monthly term. January is my favorite month—enjoy.

The Power of Words

As children, we learn our ABC’s and readily sing the alphabet song on cue. At such a young age we treat the learning of the alphabet as a novelty and do not realize the importance or power of the letters we voice. Later on, as we add the ability to read and write to our inventory of skills, we begin to understand the value and significance of our ability to convey and decode the symbols of our language. As our communication improves we realize several factors are interrelated and interconnected which add to the effectiveness of words: volume, body language, vocal expression, word choice, and emotional mindset. It does not take long for human beings to capture the essence of language and the meaning of spoken words. Using sight and sound we interpret, catalogue, react, and respond to information delivered to us. Language is essential to meet daily basic needs.

In school, we spend the first three years of school learning how to read; from fourth grade on, we use reading to learn. In the United State of America the language is English. No other language offers such a choice or range of vocabulary, meanings, interpretation, versatility, application, inventiveness, adaptation, and changeableness. English is truly a living language. Each year, new words are added to the lexicon. Familiar terms are given added definition; Parts of Speech are reassigned to meet public usage, as we continually remodel the forty-two sounds of our alphabet, making them suitable to meet contemporary need and modern living. When I was a kid the word “party” was a noun: “I’m going to a party.” Today, it has become a verb: “Let’s party!”

Years ago, having a mouse in your house was met with panic and baited traps. Today, most desktop computers come with a “mouse” and it is handled with care and given its own pad. The list of such modifications is mind-boggling.

How powerful are words? Next to heartbeats and breathing, words are what give human beings life. In 1957, as a junior at Whiting High School struggling with English, my teacher, Mr. Ulrich, gave me a packet of alphabet cards. “What this?” I asked, “I know the alphabet.” He then taught me the greatest lesson about English. “If you learn to select the right letters, for the right words, at the right time, the world is yours” In a very succinct manner, Mr. Ulrich explained the power of words. Thank what words can do: they can make one happy, sad, cry, smile, laugh, joyful, disappointed, excited, anxious, pleased, and proud. Words can convey appreciation, value, importance, success, failure, accomplishment, recognition, praise, emotion, regret, struggle, trust, honor, affection and respect.

How many times have feelings been hurt because of unkind words? How often have we felt embarrassed, ashamed, rejected or lonely because of hurtful language? Regardless whether such words are written or spoken, the impact is profound.

In contrast, recall the exhilarating feeling when one is the recipient of caring, loving words; recognition for accomplishment, achievement, special occasions or appreciation of friendship. Conveyed electronically or delivered by mail; on fancy stationery, notebook paper, or in person—the heart swell with delicious feelings of goodness, appreciation, thoughtfulness, and love.

Of all the powerful words there are special, vitally important words that define us. As humans we are flawed and prone to make mistakes: most of the time these mistakes are minor, insignificant in nature that does not affect daily life. These periodic miscues are part of growing up, learning experiences, and general interaction with environment and people. Occasionally, however, we commit mistakes that cause pain, suffering, anxiety, stress, and long-lasting consequence. Whether unintentional or on purpose, by commission or omission, we know there is never an excuse not to be kind. Even so, we sometimes say and do unkind things. Once offensive words are conveyed—they remain. You cannot put toothpaste back in the tube. What, then, does one do to heal the wound of unkindness?

We have to make choices in the way we use words? We can use them for criticism, contempt, defensiveness, selfishness and meanness. The tongue and pen can be used to praise or curse, hate or cherish, despise or admire. But if we believe that communication—the power of words—serves to strengthen relationships and provide ways to reshape all persons for the better, we must willingly bestow the gift of forgiveness—to others and ourselves. For with forgiveness, there is love; and love enables us to see with our heart. Such is the power of words.

October's Glory

You’d think that any month holding title to eighth place and then unceremoniously moved down to number ten would be resentful, not October. In spite of the calendar shenanigans of Julius and Augustus Caesar, October accepted its new position in the solar line up in tenth spot, and embellished its allotment of thirty days with exuberance and enthusiasm.

As a full-fledged member of autumn’s sweet-sad season, October brims with delicacies left over from summer’s frivolity as well as presenting its special menu of prepared entrees. Teasing everyone and everything with occasional flashbacks of sun-drenched beach parties, October delivers hours of abundant sunshine and bright blue sky that make music for senses. Elevated temperatures, give vegetation encouragement to feast on nutrients causing lawns to thrive and mowers to mulch. Resident wildlife scurries with added opportunity to prepare stores for upcoming adverse weather conditions; and people display their approval by filling mall parking places, athletic fields, and partaking in activities that commune with nature.

October is also in charge of changing seasonal scenery from full to partial sun, earlier sunsets, morning fog, cool evenings, and drenching inhabitants with light from a harvest moon. Nighttime is no longer filled with a symphony of sound. Dark hours are now more muted and subdued as nocturnal activity is redirected to more pressing tasks. Leaves begin their dance with the sun and wind. Simultaneously changing hue and tint, they twist and turn with every gust of wind displaying an artistry of movement that dazzles the eye and engender envy in those who view themselves as athletic.

When October’s wind imitates November, leaves are separated from their branches and sail about, floating, spinning, displaying their aerodynamics abilities as they land on neighboring turf. Millions upon millions of leaves find rest on mother earth as their function of purpose is complete. Soon landscapes are carpeted with autumn leaves from every variety of tree, bush and shrub, awaiting young-at-heart feet to shuffle through piles of dried deciduous cornflakes as they crunch their way to and from, school and play. Only oak trees stubbornly hold their leaves fast to the branches throughout autumn. In winter, the chocolate-colored vegetation from these acorn makers will afford stark contrast to snow-covered latticed branches of leaf-bare trees.

When October realized it was being reassigned placement on the monthly annual it decided to be a full-service participant. There is something for everyone: sight, sound, scent, and touch. October is a sensory extravaganza. Throughout October’s thirty-one days, the moon will take time to play peek-a-boo with precocious clouds, shining full strength, then, like a bashful child, provide frosty luminous moonlight when hiding behind clouds as they float by. Weather will cooperate by allowing convertibles to travel top-down celebrating good times. Sweethearts of all ages will join hands and hearts as they journey through days, forming bonds, sharing moments of melancholy remembrance of times gone by and favorite memories. Each of us in our own way finds time to acknowledge, treasure, and appreciate October’s moments to remember. Saturday afternoons in the fall are like precious jewels. Sundays have a tranquil, easy peaceful feeling as the season of autumn beckons for a slower pace than the preceding hectic summer. This time of year is when nature willingly accepts October’s recycling materials as flowers, garden remnants and trees return their bounty to mother earth. Fringe benefits include the perfume of burning autumn leaves, the scent of early morning dampness as blankets of fog become gossamer droplets of dew by the warmth of early morning sun. Crystal clear October nights is delicious and crispy like fresh potato chips. Bathed in moonlight under a sky quilted with stars, romantics share hopes and dreams and wonder at the majesty of the universe. The sight of ducks and geese winging southward toward warmer climes, quacking and honking their exuberance in appreciation for the summer just past is a signal that change is coming. Early on, these fair weather creatures decided that rock salt and snow shovels are not for them. Permanent wildlife residents search out nooks and crannies in which to hunker down during the frigid cold and snowy winter weather. Human residents begin their preparation for seasonal change, too. Lawn mowers are replaced by snow blowers, furnaces take over from air-conditioners, and staying indoors become more attractive that being out-of-doors. Sweaters, windbreakers, blankets and hot cocoa are now more prevalent than tank tops, sandals, and ice tea.

October is the time of harvest as the bounty of one’s labors is displayed for all to see and enjoy. The glory of October is that it provides the means for all of us to taste the sweetness of autumn. October can be an attitude or an age. It can be a time for renewal or reflection, continuation or beginning. The fall of the year can bring forth memories or adventurous moments. Such is the glory of October.