I'm so sorry that I am a little late saying this but anyway, thanks so much to everyone at ViewPoints who is a veteran and who served in the armed forces on behalf of the rest of us. If you are reading this message in English, you have a soldier to thank for that.

You may have read my Associated Content piece about “Why I’m Skipping My High School Reunion” but it’s not just the price which daunted me as much as the ghosts who are beginning to haunt this event. Of the Class of 1959 already 87 of us are dead. (Those are the ones we know about – there is always that ominous list of 68 “Missing Classmates” which does not bode well either.) More than 50 years ago, we graduated in caps and gowns (white for girls, royal blue for boys). We departed, bidding fond farewells, each traveling the road to our rendevouz with Fate. Bluntly put, we began to die off almost immediately.

Three months later, on a bright Fall afternoon, Diane Myers returned from college for her first weekend visit. She let herself in because her parents were out running an errand so no one is sure why she went down to the basement and hung herself.

Tricia Heine never had taken life for granted – she had been born with an upside-down heart. An almost transparently delicate girl small for her age and a bit hunched over, Tricia seemed perversely determined not to follow medical advice. She had been warned not to attempt pregnancy so we weren’t surprised when she died in childbirth when she was only 21.

People used to wonder if Tom Bowen and I were related. We weren’t but by our Ten Year Reunion, that was academic because Tom was dead. I’m not sure what happened, but he may have been among the growing number of young men who were nailed during the Vietnam War. All we know about most of our casualties is that they are gone but doubtless many succumbed to the pitfalls of war plus traffic accidents, stress, and rich diets coupled with less exercise as life became more abundant. Diane Myers was not the only suicide.

Cancer blew through like a cold wind ... in 1999, an old chum named Wallie Hancock and I took the sentimental tour of our high school together. Upstairs, downstairs, through blocks of deserted hallways, Wallie kept up with no problem. She looked 20 years younger than her age and seemed happy. That night we dined and Wallie and her husband hit the dance floor. A few months later, she was dead, victim of something which “took her down very fast.”

87 people who used to be kids banging locker doors and schlepping books to class are gone but more than 50 years ago on a bright Spring morning, some of us sat in Mr. Morgan’s Honors English class studying the great Irish poets. Diane Myers was still with us as we read these lines penned by Thomas Moore, who had understood how I would feel today:

When I remember all the friends so linked together,

I’ve seen around me fall like leaves in wintry weather

I feel like one who treads alone some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead,

and all but he departed! 

Just a note to say that I haven't forgotten the brave veterans (past and present) who have fought for our country. Life may not be perfect but a lot of us are sitting safely in our own homes tonight, in one of the best countries in the world ... and all because of our soldiers. Happy Memorial Day!

Off to the West Coast today to visit the Tuneful Pack! I'll see you all in a week!

Hi, Everybody!

Sometimes it just seems like yesterday that I entered the ViewPoints site for the first time.  I came on aboard in November of 2007 because of that MyPoints promotion which awarded a writer 50 points for the first five reviews.  I haven't looked back since.

I remember poking around into other people's profiles and marveling at their accomplishments.  I just couldn't see how a person could write 500 reviews!

The Chinese say:  "Good friends make a long journey short!" and this must be true because -- even though it seems like yesterday that I first joined ViewPoints -- I just finished my 500th review and I couldn't have done it without my good friends at ViewPoints.  Thank you everyone for your support and also for the great reviews which you have written and which I have enjoyed so much.

Take care!

AnnaBanana

 

 

 

Yes, that was me scrambling around on your roof last night with my eight tiny reindeer and in case you didn't hear me as I flew out of sight:  "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"  It has been great knowing you all and I hope you all have a great new year also!

Thank you, everybody, for all the good wishes and congratulations!  My year with ViewPoints has really flown and you know what they say -- how time flies when you're having fun!  I could have never made P.C. without a lot of help from my friends and a special thanks to Meredith, Jolie, and the gang "back home" at the ViewPoints office.  I hope you all have a lovely Turkey Day!

Best holiday wishes and all my affection to you all,

AnnaBanana

Happy Veterans Day to all of you who have fought for our country.  I may not have always believed in the wars, but I never doubted the sincerity of those who made personal sacrifices to fight for their country.  Thank you for that. 

Hi, Everyone! If you have visited my profile page during the last couple days, you may have wondered why there is a picture of a house posted down below. This is the place where my Mom and Dad and I lived for about a year back in 1949-1950, which is now The Stone House Antique Shop located at 201 Cedar Street in St. Charles, Illinois. The house was built in 1841.

Whenever I visit this little Fox River town, I make it a point to stop in at The Stone House, a wierd experience to be sure because walking in makes me feel like I'm coming home but of course that's not where I live anymore. I am grateful to whoever has expended so much money and effort to preserve the house which has never been registered as a historic landmark. Registered or not, 201 Cedar Street has great historical value. Alas that I have missed "Black History Month" because this would have qualified for sure.

THIS OLD HOUSE

In the bad old days when slavery was in flower and people could be bought and sold like property, the Underground Railway was the only hope for many but just getting away from the plantation didn't necessarily mean freedom because the escaped slaves were still considered to be someone's property to be captured and returned sometimes for a bounty. It is said that Harriet Tubbman dreaded the prospect of somebody's recapture because she knew they would be tortured and possibly made to give up details of whatever they knew about the Railway. So a lot of care had to be taken in helping the escaped slaves get to a safe place.

UP THE RIVER

Among many other precautions, travelers on the Underground Railway had to be transported in boats up the Fox River under cover of night. During the day they had to stay hidden in "safe houses" along the shores. If a boat was approaching St. Charles at the first light of dawn, the captain would pull up to the shore near a "safe house" like the one at 201 Cedar Street. The escaped slaves would have to disembark, walk more than a block through a dark tunnel and then climb up a ladder and through a trap door into what someday would be "our" basement. There in those dark rooms the people would take shelter for the day, waiting for night to come again so they could continue their journey.

By the time we moved in during early autumn of 1949, the Underground Railway belonged to the ages, the earthen basement floor had been replaced with cement, and the trap door had been paved over. We never knew about that part of the house's history or about the ongoing drama that had occurred in those spooky, dark basement rooms where now my Dad shoveled coal into the furnace, my Mom did laundry and I sometimes played on rainy days.

We were there for about a year and although we enjoyed most of our stay, the house sometimes seemed a little scary to me after dark. One night as I was about to go upstairs to bed, suddenly an invisible man marched down the stairs, walked around me and down what used to be a hall into what used to be our dining room. (This was a startling experience -- not mysterious creaking but the definite sound of someone wearing heavy boots treading over our hardwood floors.)

We were only at 201 Cedar Street for about a year because of a great tragedy -- the serious illness and death of my mother when she was only 42. My Dad and I just couldn't take living in the house anymore where there were so many memories and so we moved to Woodstock so that my Dad could be closer to his work. As far as the old house was concerned, now we belonged to the ages too.

TODAY

The Stone House is a block north of Main Street (Route 64) on the east side of the river and is a part of an area called "Century Corners." The most convenient way to get there is to turn off on Third Street but I suggest turning off on Fourth Street (a block closer to the river) instead. When you drive up the hill and the house at 201 Cedar Street comes into view, you will get a better understanding of how far those frightened people had to walk underground and how high they had to climb to get to the basement of where we used to live. Today we don't know their names but God bless them all (and the people who helped them) and I hope they all got to their final destinations safely.

Best Regards to all,

AnnaBanana