A new adventure
One year to the day when Claire and I took off on our cross-country trip, she heads out for a new adventure.
One year to the day when Claire and I took off on our cross-country trip, she heads out for a new adventure.
Strangers in a strange land indeed!
From deep in the American West (yes, I’m traveling again), here are some photos and very brief observations from the last two-three weeks that I’ve wanted to post…but haven’t found the time. And I’ll begin with a few pictures from Tom Brown’s Excellent 90th Birthday Adventure. (Or the Tom-Tom Palooza, as coined by my niece Rachel.) A vivid memory from family gatherings from my youth were my uncles Joe, Jimmy, and Paul — along with my Dad — sitting together and watching the children play. Here’s the next generation, although the vice has turned from cigars and pipes (everyone but my father smoked) to beer. Here two of my nieces, their husbands, my brother-in-law Mark, and Candice join me in relaxing by the pool. And now for something completely different. We celebrated the start of the new (fiscal) year at work with that great Southern tradition — seersucker. Unfortunately, not too many folks at the National Trust own any seersucker (at least not any that they would be caught dead in out in public), so …
My nephew Kelsey adds a special reason – #91 – to honor my father.
My father is celebrating his 90th birthday on Sunday, July 5th, and the night before fireworks will be set off in his honor all across America! Daddy told me recently he didn’t think he would live past 73. So while he may not be a very good prognosticator, he still has much to recommend him. That got me to thinking, and in the spirit of my 60 Lessons from 60 Years, I’ve pulled together 90 things about the wonderful life of Tom Brown on the occasion of his 90th birthday. Just like George Bailey in the movie of the same name, life for so many people would be much the poorer if Tom Brown had not lived these 90 years (and counting!). These are all true, even if they aren’t all factual. If you have others you would like to add, please list them in the comments section below. (And thanks to Candice, Claire, and Andrew for their contributions to this list. Besides being a pretty terrific dad, he’s an amazing grandfather and father-in-law.) 1. …
The horrific murders during the Wednesday evening Bible study of nine members of the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, have rarely left my mind over the past few days. I have talked about it with colleagues who live in the city, prayed for the victims and their families during a conference on the legacy of African-American Rosenwald Schools, read dozens of articles and commentaries, and had long conversations over the family dinner table — all to try to make sense out of the senseless. To take another step in that process, I’m adding to my “Observations from home” series with this collection of unrelated observations and thoughts which all revolve around the many issues raised by this racist rampage. Bible Study — Those of us who grew up in the 20th century South in the evangelical tradition understand the nature of a weekday gathering to study scripture. The regulars are the spiritual seekers and mentors who take their faith very seriously. When I heard that the shootings had taken place at the weekday …
I was at Nationals Park on Saturday, enjoying a sunny, summer day; appreciating the Nat’s celebration of the anniversary of D-Day; and joining in the banter of friends – new and long-time – that can only come when you have 3+ hours to sit and chat between pitches. One of those friends opined that a bad day at the ballpark (the Nats lost) is still better than almost any other day. So count that as the first observation in a series of unrelated thoughts in this “June Weekend” edition of Observations From Home. As noted before, you can take them or leave them. Remembering D-Day – Saturday was June 6th, and a series of WWII veterans – many who saw action at Normandy in June of 1944 – were honored at the ballpark and helped throw out the first pitch. I’ve written about these heroes before – including one who lives next door – but it is becoming very clear that we have only a few more years before this generation passes on to its …
Andrew has been singing professionally since he was 8 years old. So fourteen years later, it comes as no surprise that as we celebrate his graduation from Brown University, the weekend has been filled with his music. (Editor’s Note: This is the second of two posts about the commencement weekends as the twins graduated from college. I treat my blog like the 21st century version of letter writing, in that I can write one item and it can go out to family and friends everywhere. These blog posts are all about family. If you don’t want to read about how wonderful my children are – then stop reading. Note…you’ve been warned!) Candice, Claire, and I arrived home on Tuesday from Claire’s graduation just in time to fall into bed, get up the next morning to run errands and wash clothes, and then pile into the car on Thursday to drive to Providence to be with Andrew. As one friend said, “You all must be approaching exhaustion, but what a lovely way to get there . …
Twenty-two years ago, I never dreamed this day would come. Not that Claire wasn’t always eager to learn. But when your hands are full with new twins, two decades seems like such a long time in the future. But the years have flown by and this weekend finds us in Southern California for Claire’s graduation from Pomona College. Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were all flying here to leave our daughter on the west coast, at a school she obviously loved but that seemed so far away from home? Pomona was recommended to Claire by Leonard King, her insightful and supportive high school teacher and college counselor at Maret, who had an amazing record of linking students with just the right college that offered the most chance for personal and intellectual growth. Claire and I first saw Pomona together on a spring break trip. When she decided to apply early decision and Candice was concerned about having her so far from home, I did what any take-charge father would do: I said to Candice, …
Spring is a weird time for sports. First, there are lots of changing seasons. Playoffs are just starting in hockey and basketball. (Do you know that WWII wasn’t as long as the NBA playoffs?) Baseball is in its first week. Golf begins to come back onto the radar screen. And those folks who think football is the only game get all excited about…the draft. (Please. Get a life, people.) This afternoon, I watched about all the golf I will take in on television over the course of the year – the last nine holes of the Masters. It takes me about an hour of CBS coverage of the Masters to remind myself why I think golf is so damn pretentious and full of itself. The hushed tones, the endless references to history, the endless paeans to Phil (I make millions of dollars, but I still complain about having to pay taxes) Mickelson. (The guy actually wears logos of a bank and an auditing firm. That should tell you something about this “game.”) Give me a …