Reminiscing
If you were a teenager in the 1970’s, in Casper, Wyoming, you know about dragging the strip, because that was what the kids did back then. The local businesses didn’t appreciate it much when we stopped to talk in their parking lots either, although to this day I don’t know what harm there was in it. Nevertheless, if you sat in their parking lot very long, the police would show up and make you leave, and if you were caught there very much, they could even give you a ticket for loitering, although I never heard of anyone who got one.
Dragging the strip gave the local teens the chance to show off their cars and hang out with their friends. Our friend, Lana had a yellow Mach I Mustang. She took that thing to the car wash after work…every day, and then she headed out to the strip to hang with her friends. That always struck me as funny, because I just couldn’t see how her car could have been that dirty. I asked her about it once, and she said she just couldn’t take a dirty car out on the strip, and she lived on a dirt road, so it got dusty every time she went home. It made sense, I guess, but it was still funny. The things that bug us as kids…right.
The strip went from Red Barn, now Peaches, on 2nd Street to Smith’s on CY Avenue, and if you rode it very long, you would see just about every beater and hot rod imaginable. Bob drove a 1974 AMC Hornet, which would not be considered a sport car, except that it was gold, with racing stripes, mag wheels, and it was jacked up in the rear end, plus it was a V-8, and that gave it plenty of power, because it was a small car. My car was a 1968 Plymouth Fury III…not a sporty car, because my dad told me that I should get a car that could go from being my first car to being a family car later. It was a good idea, and it did do that, but I really wanted the pink Plymouth Duster that I tried to sell him on, or even the old panel van that I thought looked funky. Our friend Leroy drove an orange Road Runner, and another friend Kurt, drove a blue fastback Mustang. Some of the cars were beaters, as I said…just something to get by on, but not much for looks. It didn’t seem to matter as kids, because the main thing was to have the freedom to hang out and drag the strip, peeling out of A & W and wearing out our tires, and wasting gas…which I’m sure more than one of us wish we had back these days.
The United States has been involved in many wars in our history. Our military personnel have placed themselves in harm’s way so many times for the rights of others and for freedom from tyranny. American soldiers and their allies around the globe stood up for what was right. They fought against those who would take away the rights of others, and steal the resources of other nations. They didn’t ask why they were being sent to these places, they knew. Human rights were being stomped on and the people being tourtured and killed could not stand up for themselves. They would either continue to be abused, or someone would come to their aid. That someone would be a soldier, because that is the job these brave men and women signed up to do.
My dad, aunts, and uncles either fought in World War II, or worked in the shipyards to help with the war effort. Others have fought in such wars as Viet Nam, Korea, Desert Storm, and others. Many have served during peace time. It doesn’t matter how they served, our veterans stood and still stand always at the ready…willing to lay down their lives for people they don’t know…willing to be away from their own family, because they knew that their job was important. Their job is still important today. Whether we are fighting in Iraq, Afganistan, Iran, Lybia, or wherever tyranny lives, and freedom is being oppressed. If that is where they are needed, then that is where they will go, and they will do their very best work…they will give it their very best, and some will give all they have. That is just what brave men and women do.
Today is Veteran’s Day. It is a day to honor those brave men and women, who have done so much for us and for so many other people and nations around the world. There is no way that we can ever repay you for all you have done for us. We will continue to pray for your safety every day. Thank you so much for your service to us, your country, and the world.
My Aunt Evelyn was a very social girl. She always had a great group of friends, and they had a club. There were 8 girls and 8 guys, and their parents used to take turns holding parties for the group. They were then envy of all the siblings, who secretly wished they were big enough to be a part of that group. When it was my grandmother’s turn to have the party, they all went to the North Casper Clubhouse, and had a Taffy Pulling Party. There was a few parents there, but mostly it was the 8 girls and 8 boys at this party, and none of the younger kids were allowed to go, Although they did get a little bit of the taffy…when all the party goers were done, of course. The party was a huge success, and grandma was so proud of how it turned out. I’m quite certain that the younger kids wished they could have had friends like that when they were older, but the club and the group of friends my Aunt Evelyn had were a pretty unique group.
Aunt Evelyn had a special friend named Mabel. Her mother had passed away, and my grandmother welcomed her into the family as much as she wanted to be there. It was a kindness shown by my grandmother and my aunt to a girl who needed the company of women and especially a mother figure in her life. Aunt Evelyn was willing to share her mother with her dear friend. Mabel went on picnics and other family outings too. One day they all went out to Uncle Cliff’s place and the kids found a buggy. They had no horse, but the buggy looked like lots of fun too. There were about 15 kids there, and some rode while some pushed the buggy down a hill. It was great fun until one time they got all tangled up in the wheels and went over in a heap. Clothes were torn, skin was scratched, but nothing was broken. Aunt Evelyn’s and Mabel’s skirts were even torn, and they had to wear an 
apron backwards to cover up the back of their dresses. Grandpa asked them why they didn’t put the break on, but they said they didn’t know it had a break. that brought much laughter, and my mom says that story still lives on today.
Aunt Evelyn was always a very regal looking woman. She carried herself with grace and beauty. She was a friend to many, and a role model to most people. Today, Aunt Evelyn turns 84 years old. She is still a beautiful and well respected lady. She is still married to the love of her life, and together they have raised 5 children, and have been blessed with many grandchildren and great grandchildren. Happy birthday Aunt Evelyn!! We love you!!
As I was going through some old pictures, of some family members who I don’t know, I came across some very old style wedding dresses and veils. The thing I found rather odd is that while the dress seemed overly simple, the veil and especially the head piece were overly elaborate. It almost seemed to me that what cost they didn’t put into the dress, they instead put into the head piece.
When my girls got married, the wedding dress was the biggest part of the wedding planning. The veil carried a close second to that, but the dress was really what you noticed. Pearls and sequines, and satin and lace were the bling of choice. The head piece was floral, but not nearly as big as the ones from years gone by.
I have begun to wonder about the history of wedding attire, so I did a little research on it. I found that in the early 1800’s, Weddings were very simple. The dress was often just their best dress, and believe it or not, was often black, because that best dress also doubled as a funeral dress. The other thing about that dress was that it was not kept in pristeen condition, but rather, it went back to normal use right after the wedding.
The white wedding dress was not the normal attire until 1840, when the newly crowned Queen Victoria of Great Britain wed Prince Albert. Unlike the monarch before her, Victoria chose to be married in a splendid, white satin gown. In reaction, young women in England and America, fascinated by the newly married queen’s style, immediately began insisting on white wedding dresses of their own. A new style was born. Our fascination with royalty seems to affect style quite often. Personally, I like this style change, because I think a woman looks beautiful in a white wedding dress. Of course, I have also seen beautiful brides in other colors or in embellished white dresses too. I’m sure the joy of the day plays a huge part in the beauty of the bride.
The symbolism of the bridal veil is as varied as the culture it comes from, ranging from protection from wind and sun, to warding off evil spirits. The most 
common is to symbolize modesty and purity, indicating that only virgins should wear them, but that is probably not followed much these days. The one I like best is that the veil is lifted by the husband to symbolize his acceptance of his bride…like accepting a gift. He unwraps his bride as he takes her as his own. Of course, with women’s lib came equal rights, so many women lift their own veil to symbolize their equality. As for me, I personally like the idea of the groom unwrapping his bride like a gift, for that is really what she is to him, as he is to her. The gift of love.
Couples have a way of showing their true feelings of love for each other with their eyes. When couples have been married for a long time, there just seems to be a look, or even a tilt of the head that shows the deepness of their feelings for each other. They know each other better than anyone else in the entire world possibly could. They have been down the road together, through good and bad times, through sickness and health, through happy and sad, through arguments and solidarity…they have been there. They know how their spouse will react to different situations. They know they can count on that person being with them until death they do part. Their love has withstood the test of time, and come out victorious. It is a place every young couple hopes to arrive at someday, but many don’t. So when you see a little old couple still holding hands and looking lovingly into each other’s eyes, it is impossible not to be affected by it.
Sometimes, you can find a young couple who has that same look of love. No, that isn’t a guarantee of lasting love, but sometimes, you just know they will beat the odds. They will become that little old couple holding hands and looking lovingly into each other’s eyes…you just know they will. They have that look of, “My life was so empty, before you came into it.” or “My love for you is so strong that I can’t begin to express it in words.” It is a look that goes beyond physical attraction and into the realm of two hearts/one person…soul mates. It is a look that warms your heart, and touches you deeply. It’s a look that, while we love to catch it on film, almost makes you feel like you are intruding on a moment that should have only been between the two people involved, and yet it’s a look you want to see, because it shows just how much they love each other.
That look of love is something we all long to receive. We pray for our children to receive it someday. We are thrilled by it when we see it in our parents and grandparents. Love is 
the hope of the future and the promise of the past. Love is something that no one can live without…not really. We need love in our lives, and so when we see couples expressing it with their eyes, we walk away with that feeling of everything is right in the world, no matter how messed up things in this world are, my parents, my children, my nieces and nephews, my grandparents love each other. Yes, everything is right…at least in my world.
My niece, Kellie has always had a wonderful sense of humor. She has to be the giggliest person I have ever met. Anyone who is her friend, or who has worked with her can fully attest to that. Kellie likes to do things that make people laugh.
When I call my mother’s on Wednesdays to give her a pill reminder, Kellie usually answers the phone, as she and her mom, my sister Allyn, and Kellie’s sister, Jessi come to my mom’s for lunch on Wednesdays. She is always teasing me that I am interrupting her time, and I should just get off the phone!! She loves to joke around that way.
Kellie has always had a contagious laugh. All she had to do was laugh, and you could not resist joining right in. Even if you didn’t know what was so funny, you had to laugh, because she was laughing, and she made it seem like a laughing moment, so everyone had to laugh.
About a year ago, Kellie followed in the footsteps of her aunt, me and her cousin, my daughter, Amy, and became an insurance agent. The agency she works for dresses up for Halloween, so Kellie has come up with a couple of really good costumes, but this year’s really takes the cake. As an independent agent, Kellie writes for Progressive Insurance, so Kellie decided to go with the popular option, and dress up as Flo.
Of course, as we all know, there can be only one Flo, so I have looked her picture over very well, and I have determined that there must be two Flo-Bots. The first model looked a little too much like a robot, and so couldn’t really pass for the real Flo, but I think this second model has been highly upgraded to look like a pretty good Flo double. Not quite close enough to fool someone who knows Flo well, but as Flo would say, “She’s pretty good…She’s pr-ett-y good.”
Sometimes, it hits me that my children are grown and my grandchildren are growing up…very quickly…too quickly. They are almost grown up now. I look at the pictures of them as children, especially on days like Christmas, birthdays, and Halloween. There was such excitement in the air, with the anticipation of the day’s events, that they could barely control themselves. Even the parents were excited, though few of us would admit it then. Looking back at the little kids they were, makes me think of the young adults they are quickly becoming.
They no longer dress up for Halloween, and even might be working that night now, which is something that kind of makes me a little sad. They were so cute in their little costumes. They might be a pirate, or ninja, a mime, or pumpkin, a ladybug, or fireman, Spiderman, or even a lion, but it was not the costume that mattered, because they were our little trick or treaters, and they were the absolute cutest ones ever. They couldn’t wait for the time to arrive to go out and do the one thing Halloween is all about…getting candy. They were practically jumping up and down with anticipation. Dinner simply couldn’t get over fast enough, and in all reality, they didn’t want to fill up on food anyway, even though their parents don’t want them to fill up on candy! You knew there was going to be a huge difference of opinion there. Finally, the time arrived, and you were off.
Today’s, and even in my girl’s day, trick or treating must be more limited. When I was a kid, Dad took us all over the area around our house. We went for blocks and blocks. You didn’t have to worry about the candy you got, or have it x-rayed, in fact no had even heard of such a thing back then. No, we just collected enough candy to last us easily until Christmas…thought it never did. It was a great time.
Sometimes, I wish time did not have to pass so quickly, because those days are gone forever, and now so are the days of my grandchildren trick or treating. I wish I could go back there sometimes. That said, however, as it is with life, the next generation is right around the corner. Before we know it, these kids, now young adults, will be married and having children of their own, and the next generation of the cutest trick or treaters ever will be upon us.
My mom grew with stories about the Indians her grandfather had known in his lifetime. Of course, my Great grandpa Byer passed away before my mom was even born, but his legacy lived on long afterward. He had been a friend to the Indians, and had been invited to take part in their Pow Wows. I don’t really know how much this impressed my mom, but I know that she often talked about the stories she had heard so many times in her youth. I remember, Mom’s stories well…probably because she used to use examples of Indian things when she spoke to us in everyday life.
As with most kids, we figured shoes were optional in the 
summertime, and in reality, they were in the way. As a result of this belief, our feet spent the better part of the summer looking as black as the ace of spades. My mom liked to joke with us about our feet. She would say such things as, “Look at those feet! The are completely black! Are you part of the Blackfoot Tribe!” I didn’t know much about the history of the Blackfoot Indians, but apparently they got their name because of their moccasins, which were often black from walking through the ashes of the prairie fires. Many of the Indian tribes would set the prairie on fire as a way of…well, mowing the lawn. Tall grass provides a hiding place for enemies, be they animal or human. So, burning them made riding and walking easier, and gave the protection of the open areas with no place to hide from the 
tribe’s people. It was the best protection they could have.
I always used to wonder why she would say that we were from the Blackfoot Tribe, and then I checked into it. No, we weren’t wandering around the prairie, walking through the ashes left from mowing the lawn, but we did wear moccasins for a time, when they were in style. The reality, however, was that she was reminded of the Blackfoot Tribe, by her own little tribe of barefoot girls with feet as black as soot, running around, carefree and happy, in the summer sun. Her own little tribe of Blackfoot Indians.
Winter has never been my favorite time of year because of the slick roads, wind, and cold, but one thing about winter that I love is the beautiful snow scenes. Sometimes, it is like looking at a Hallmark card. The snow glistens in the sunlight, like diamonds in a necklace. The leaves mostly gone are replaced with snow and frost…Winter’s lace.
Light snow falling gently to the ground, brings a sense of peace and quiet, so that you can almost hear the snowflakes touching the ground. The wind has calmed with the snow’s appearance, and it brings a quietness to both mind and spirit. If you happen to venture out in the evening, under the street lights, the snowflakes look like falling stars twinkling all the way to the ground. It feels like you are walking in a wonderland. It almost seems like make believe. The air is crisp and cold, and add that to the quiet, and you can feel like you are completely alone in the world.
A light snow that sticks to the tree branches becomes like a lacy dress, especially in the moonlight on a crisp, cold night. It’s hard to capture that in pictures sometimes, but when you do, they are amazing, and so you take a little bit of time to try to capture the perfect 
picture of Night Lace. Finally, you succeed, and then it’s time to head for home.
Walking home in the cold Winter air, makes you finally long for home, The cold air finally creeps into your bones. The snow flakes gently flutter to the ground, and make you want to snuggle up in front of a warm fire with a cup of hot cocoa, and just soak in the fire’s warmth. These Winter evenings seem to encourage those cozy moments by the fire, with the smell of the burning wood, and the crackling of the fire. The hot cocoa begins to make you feel tired, and ready for a warm bed and sweet sleep, but your mind continues to linger on the beauty of Winter’s Lace.
My niece, Susan was the last of the nieces on Bob’s side of the family, and in fact there would not be another girl born in the family for 15 years. That, in itself, was surprising, because up until that time, the family had been mostly girls. You could say that we were very used to little girls and their ways. Susan was unique in some things, such as her imaginary friends. Yes, many people have imaginary friends as children, but she was the first, and I believe the only one in our family to have them, and we all thoroughly enjoyed their antics.
Through the years, I have watched Susan go from being a cute litle girl, who always made us laugh, to a beautiful woman, wife, and mother to her 2 daughters. Susan has a sweet spirit, and a bit of a shy smile, but inside her lives a heart of gold. I don’t get to see her as often as I would like, since she lives in Powell, and in many ways I feel like those of us who live here have missed out on all the good things Susan is.
One thing I didn’t know about Susan is the outdoorsy girls she is. When I look through her pictures, I see her camping with her family and fishing with her little Kaytlyn, which is quite 
funny, since Kaytlyn was not impressed with the fish they caught. And I can’t blame you Kaytlyn. I like to eat fish, and I don’t mind fishing, but someone else needs to put the worm on and take the fish off…that is just a rule!! But Susan took it all in stride, and Kaytlyn made it through that horrible ordeal with that monster from the water. Whew!!
The years have flown by so fast Susan!! I remember when you were just a newborn, and now you have children who aren’t even babies anymore. It just doesn’t seem possible. Today is Susan’s birthday, and we want to wish her the very best of birthdays. Have a great day, Susan!! We love you!!
