In Memoriam

Phyllis, my youngest sister, died last week.  I was asked to speak at the memorial.  I have enclosed my notes below.

My sisters Ann, Corinne who passed in 2016, and Phyllis, who passed last week.

Selected Verses from Isaiah 25 and 26

On this mountain (Zion), the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples: a banquet of aged wine, the best meats and the finest of wines.  And on this mountain, the LORD will destroy the shroud that envelops all peoples, that pall that covers all nations; for the LORD God will devour death and will wipe away the tears from every face. Thus says the LORD, “Your dead will live; their bodies will rise.You who grieve, awake and shout for joy!” 

Oh, it is hard to shout for joy today but as I acknowledge to those closest to her, David, Doug, Karen and your families, the grandchildren and great grandchildren, you can rest in that consolation.  The pall that caused Phyllis pain and discomfort all these years is gone.  She rests in the comfortable arms of the Lord.

I have been asked by the Stueckle family to speak to the early years.  Well, to begin with, there we 8 of us born to Gunder and Betty Aune.  Here are the birth years:

CORINNE    1930                            ANN    1932

PHYLLIS   1935                               BUD    1937

GENE 1940                                        JOHN   1941

NORM   1947                                   DWIGHT 1954         

If you do the math you can deduce that our mother gave birth for 24 years.  And all 10 of us lived in a small 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom house,  I guess 1000 to 1200 square feet, located on the Hay road.  There was also a bunkhouse for “the boys” as they got older, that was approximately 200 sq feet, a sink and shower but no bathroom.  But in the throngs of winter, and in those early years, it was Mom and Dad in one bedroom, the 3 girls in a double bed in another bedroom, and 4 boys in bunk beds and a double bed in a “lean to” bedroom that barely had room to walk between the beds.  That would leave one infant in a crib somewhere.  With no slight intended toward our Catholic and Mormon friends, acquaintances of mine in Puyallup where I now live, on learning of my many siblings, have asked, “Catholic?  Mormon?”    My reply has been, “No, just passionate Protestants.”

Now some were gone to college (ie Corrine left for PLU just after I was born), but the house was extremely crowded.  As a result we all spent a lot of time outdoors, Phyl, no exception.  I have to admit I have few memories of Phyl when I was a youngster.  She was 12 when I was born so my memories of her is her going off to PLU, then LBI (Lutheran Bible Institute, then in Issaquah)  She came home in 1954 to help Mom.  Our dad had already had a debilitating heart attack, but not debilitating in a way as our youngest, Dwight was born that year.  Phyl helped with the care of Dwight, helped mom, who had her own health challenges, and renewed her acquaintance with Dave.  They were married in 1955.

But before those years, the rest of my older siblings have memories that they shared with me:

Ann shares that Phyl loved the outdoors and spent a lot of time riding horse and gardening.  I’m sure each of you children and grandchildren are not surprised at that.  Phyl also enjoyed going down to the creek to gather tadpoles in the late spring.  She’d keep them in a glass jar, feeding them soda crackers until they began to form as frogs.   Then she’s let them go, we think.  Mom often dressed Phyl and Ann in similar clothes and often people would get them mixed up.  Ann also shares to this day that people will see her and greet her with “Hi Phyl.”  Ann is also thankful for the many times that Dave and Phyl chauffeured her around in recent years, taking Ann to many family and community events.

Bud shares that he rescued Phyl at least twice.  Once, on the place they lived before I was born, Phyl and Bud went into the chicken house and let the door slam behind them.  The outside latch fell as it slammed and the door was locked.  The window and chicken portal to the outside pen too small for Bud to get his youngster body through, They stayed with the chickens for “a long time” yelling for help until Dad did hear them and rescued them.  The other rescue occurred again in the chicken house, this time on the farm where I grew up.  The family was sitting down to dinner, the entire group as was the custom, and mom asked, “Where’s Phyl?”  Bud went out and found Phyl in the chicken house.  Now Phyl had been instructed by Dad how to skillfully but firmly extricate the hens from the nest so as to access the eggs.  Well, apparently Phyl had encountered a uncooperative hen whose habit was to peck at those trying to retrieve her eggs.  In Phyl’s persistence she did battle with the hen for perhaps an hour.  When Bud entered the chicken house he found Phyl, armed with a stick.  No one remember how the situation was resolved but I can imagine the hen did not win.

Gene has fond memories of how Phyl, when our mother needed constant assistance in the mid 1980’s and was living with Gene and Lola, Phyl was the first one to come to Gene and Lola’s aide when they needed to go out.  Gene said Phyl, who answered every beckon call, was extremely helpful.  Gene also recalled recently sitting in the Lacrosse Tavern having dinner with Lola (the only place in Lacrosse to eat at that time) and see Phyl walk in.  Gene shares that eating dinner with Dave and Phyl under large posters of young  ladies holding a can of beer  was quite unnerving.

John shares that the boys learned to drive at a young age.  I remember driving a wheat truck at age 12 after learning to drive the Jeep at 10.  The “boys” were probably more prone to drive at a young age.  The “girls” though not so.  When Phyl was 16 her job was to take the harvest lunch over to the Miller place, land that Dad farmed a few miles from the house.  The “boys” went along in the old pickup and, Phyl, still mastering the 3 speed standard stick shift on the column, stopped at the bottom of the Carlson hill, putting it in low so she didn’t have shift half way up the hill.  The “boys” teased Phyl unmercifully.  Phyl like to experiment with cooking.  She once made a scratch recipe of brownies with peppermint candy and it didn’t set.  Since it was still tasty and sweet, the solution was to pour it over ice cream. The boys were unmerciful and going so far as to spread the brownies all over their elbows and naming the concoction “elbow grease.”

In all these situations, and many more, there is the common theme of family and sometime unmercifully, but still honest and unwavering love.

The most vivid example of this is perhaps the most popular of Bible verses, John 3:16.   “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son.”  What a sacrifice.  We all try the best we can to extend our love.  We all love in our own way, to the best of our ability.  Sometimes we fail.  Some times our efforts are misconstrued.  Phyl’s efforts to love are extremely evident.  And today I speak mainly to David, Doug, Karen, and your loved ones.   Our loved one, who has now passed from this stage of life, has left us a legacy of love, something that should warm your life and carry you forward.  She carried forth a life rooted in the words and actions of our dear Jesus Christ.  She led a life of sacrifices but a life full, meaningful and enriching.

I leave you one more thought

From: I Thessalonians 4

Now we would not want you to be ignorant, brothers and sisters, regarding those who have died; so that you may grieve, but not as those who have no hope.  For we believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God take to heaven those who have died, believing in Jesus.

May God comfort and even bless the Stueckle family in their grieving.  And may their grieving rest in the comfort of a life lived in faith and love.

Gifts from God Version 7 and 8

The Chinese, specifically the Cantonese (Hong Kong and Guangzhou),  have a fascination with the number 8.   It is pronounced, in that dialect, "bat".  It thus rhymes with "fat", which is the Cantonese word for good luck. The day with the most marriages in that area of China is the 8th day of the 8th month.  Rents are more expensive on the 8th floor, and there is a myriad of other manifestations in that culture that revolve around the number 8.  My mother and father had 8 children.   It was also Kari's number as she played volleyball at Rogers High.

This Aune family now revolves around the number 8.

It was in early summer that Eric and Kari announced that they were pregnant again,  It was later in summer when Kari came to our house after an exam.  Barb and I were seated at our patio table feeding her Lizzie, age 3, and Madi, age 1, snacks after their afternoon naps.  Kari looked a bit flustered and as she sat at our table she pulled out the ultrasound pictures and she asked, "Look, Lizzie, how many babies do you see?"  Lizzie on looking at the pictures responded, "Two."   Kari had set her phone on video and she has the responses from Barb and me.  My response after howling was, "Where is Eric?  Is he at a bar someplace?"  Kari and Eric now have 4 children under the age of 4.  And of anyone I know, of all people, they will thrive with 4 children under the age of 4.

Caleb Patrick and Titus Philip were born early Wednesday morning, 1/11/2117.  Kari, at 38 weeks, was huge.

She was such a trooper during her pregnancy.  She worked up until the last day of school before Christmas vacation.  She had great color and energy.  She was so positive and such a great mother to her kids.  Eric as well was upbeat and optimistic. 

On that Tuesday, Jan. 10, the rumblings increased and we picked up Kari and the kids.  We met Eric at the hospital around 4.  We dropped off Lizzie and Madi at Eric's parents, Bill and Patty, and returned to the hospital.  Nothing happening was the word.  "We'll probably being going home," Eric said.  Barb and I went home.  Then about 7 pm Eric texted that they were staying at the hospital.  At around 9 Eric texted that contractions were consistent but not increasing.  Barb and I went to bed. Then around 3 our phones lit up.  "Here we go." was Eric's text.  Barb and I got up and drove the 10 minutes to our wonderful hospital.  We sat in the birth center lobby and waited for texts.  "6:11.  Baby boy 1."  We sent the text on to our kids and Kari's best friend in TX.  "Baby boy two just minutes away."  Then "Baby boy 2 born at 6:44."     

Because of Kari's age, the fact that they were twins, and her bleeding disorder (Von Willibrands that I passed on to her) the babies were born in an operating room with a larger staff then normal. Recovery was ordered for at least 2 hours before she could go back to her room.  Barb and I went out to breakfast.  Then after a short visit with Eric, Barb went to work testing kindergartners that day and I went home to bed.  Yes, strength and vitality runs strongest on the female side.

Kari so wanted her girls to be the first to see their brothers so that late afternoon Bill and Patty brought the girls to the hospital.  Eric came out to pick up the girls and then later the 4 parents joined them.  

As a guy, even though I've participated in 3 births, well three that I can remember, it is still a mystery that overwhelms me.  I cannot identify with the process.  As I walked into the room and saw those tiny infants, then glanced at Kari, so composed, smiling in that way that so many Aunes are known for, I lost it.  I found a corner to wipe the tears away and said a short prayer of thanks.  I then proceeded to kiss the top of my daughter's head and tell her again how proud of her I am.  The boys are beautiful, perfect, and at that time very comfortable with their new status.

Ten hours after birthing these babies.  Doesn't she look great!

Grandmas don't have to share.  Then can each have one.

Madi kissing one of her brothers.

Lizzie kissing her brother.

Then the next afternoon Nathan and Cailyn arrived with their kids to first see their nephews and for their children to meet their first boy cousins.

Jane gets to hold her newborn cousin. Jensen in the far background with the other boy cousin.

Grayson, so intrigued by his first boy cousin.

"What's wrong with his penis?"   Grayson, go to your parents and ask about circumcision.  By the way, the nurse in the picture has worked here 42 years.  She was here when Ben, Eric, Kari, and Nathan were born in this hospital.

Janie, loves holding her cousins.

Jensen, Jane, and Grayson

The Kelly boys on the way home.

This whole experience overwhelms me.  We now have 8 grandchildren.  And yes, eight is very good luck.  Thanks be to God.

In Memorium

Eric, Jane and Leroy, playing cribbage.

Ben, Nathan and Hope

Pictures are from last Christmas,  Oh how things can change...

Homage to Leroy and Hope given at their funeral, December 11.

LeRoy, Spitz.  Connie, Corinne,   Hope.  Their names which interchange regularly ring generosity.  They have always been the great providers, even to a fault.  I am a recipient of their generosity, more years of their generosity than almost anyone here

I grew up in Hope’s place.  I was the seventh child born to our mom and dad in March, 1947.  We lived on a farm near Hay, Washington.  Those of you that do not know where Hay is, it lies halfway between Riperia and Dusty.  That June, at age 16, Hope graduated from Hay High School.  She ranked in the top 3 of her class.  There were only 3 in her class.  In September,  Hope went off to PLC.  She came home and mothered me at each break, and in the years that ensued she brought home LeRoy from PLC.  Later she brought home LeRoy and Randy, Marie and Kurt.   In several of those years, LeRoy came to the farm to supplement his meager teacher pay to work the summer harvest while Randy, Marie and Kurt, and Hope stayed on the “coast”   and Hope went to summer school.

The summer of 1959 was one of those years.  Leroy had brought over Randy, Marie, and Kurt to the farm and while Leroy drove truck in the wheat fields, Dad, Mom and I took care of me age 12, Randy age 7, my brother Dwight age 5, Marie age 4, and Kurt age 2.  Hope, who had been attending summer school, arrived on August 1 and just two days later our dad died. 

Why I tell this story here is that it speaks to the Spitzers’ insight and generosity.    While they lived 300 miles away from me most of the year, they showed a keen interest in our lives and work.  I remember how Spitz and Hope would sit down with me, as a teenager, to discuss my aspirations and dreams.  In many summers Hope and Spitz brought a bunch of books for me to read.  In those days, during harvest, one would sit in the truck for 20 to 40 minutes waiting for the combine to dump its wheat into your truck.  It would take at least 3 “dumps” to fill the truck so you had a lot of down time sitting out in the vast wheat fields of eastern Washington.  We read books to fill the time.

When school started for my senior year of high school, we had a new English teacher, Mrs. Moser.  In one of the first days of class she asked us to fill out a questionnaire as to our reading experiences; books recently read.   A few days later Mrs. Moser called me up to her desk after class.  She inquired as to my list:   Of Mice and Men, To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, Animal Farm, Lord of the Flies, among other now classics.  She was very interested in to how it came about that I chose to read these books.  “My sister and brother in law,” I answered.  “They encourage me to read them.”  Mrs. Moser was one of the finest teachers I had.  Her interest in fine literature and in writing is still with me today.  She wrote in my annual at the end of the year, “May your ambition be enthusiastic but less vaulting than Macbeth.” 

Ambition.  Corrine and LeRoy taught me and hundreds of others that ambition, put toward positive goals, required hard work, education, and astute application.  In order to perform at the highest level, one had to study, practice, prepare and perform.  Performance at the highest caliber is a premium that, if achieved, is very rewarding. However, the process toward one’s goal always had an element of taking care of others along the way.  Hope’s favorite song was Barbra Streisand’s “People”.  “People.  People who need people, are the luckiest people in the world.”

Often at memorial services one speaks to the accomplishments of the deceased – what one had achieved or “gotten out” of one’s life.  LeRoy and Corinne had many achievements and accolades but I think it is more fitting here to speak to what they achieved by what they have “put into” the lives of many.  They touched hundreds of lives.

In the musical Godspell, Jesus sings a song God Save the People.   Jesus is concerned that the people are consumed with anger, worry, fear, loathing and are only pursuing self interest.  Jesus sings to God, “Flowers of thy heart, oh Lord are they.  Let them not pass like weeds away.  Their heritage, a sunless day.  God save the people.”  Hope and Spitz are flowers.  They are a sunny day.  Their heritage blooms and shines all around us, throughout their community, the churches and schools they  served, their life work,  their University, and especially their family.

Thank you LeRoy, Spitz.  Thank you Connie, Corinne, Hope.  Thank you good and faithful servants.  Thank you and well done.

It Sounds Fishy

The phrase is, “That sounds fishy!” and the origination of that phrase comes from fisherman tales that are often embellished beyond belief.   This last week the local Aune and Kelly gkids went fishing with Eric and Papa and we have two stories that may not be believed by skeptical listeners.  On Monday, we parked the RV at East Creek Campground about 2 miles from the Mineral Lake. 

First night at campground.  Aune g kids with baby Madi.   Barb, Kari, Eric and Lizzy in background.  And Loki off leash in this very unusual and perhaps favorite campground.

Grayson 4, so loving, entertains his cousin Madi, 4 mos.

 Tuesday, Eric took the group out on the lake.  Jane (7), an avid fisherperson, caught the first rainbow trout, then Eric hooked one.  Jane caught 3 more in the 2+ hours on the lake.  The young boys were losing interest as they were getting no bites.  Meanwhile, Jane stayed attentive to her pole.  Greyson, a typical 4 year old was a bit careless and dropped his pole in the lake.  He decided that he didn’t want to fish any more.  Sometime later Jensen (6) hooked something and on reeling in, found a line hooked to his line.  Low and behold, it was the lost pole and Eric was able to pull in the hooked line to bring the lost pole back on board.

Jane, an astute fisherperson, always out fishes me.

I caught one, Eric caught one, and Jane caught four.  Her catch that day with Mt Rainier in the background.

 

The Kellys left that evening but the rest of us went back up to Mineral about noon on Wednesday.  We rented a pontoon boat and anchored in one of our favorite spots.  After getting no bites the first hour we moved to another spot and the fish starting hitting almost immediately.  Jane caught another, then Greyson caught his first fish.  Finally Jensen hooked one.

Jane telling me where she wants to fish.

Greyson.  I am going to catch a fish today!

He did.  His first at 4 years old.

Jane has another one on.  Notice that I am just sitting beside her.  She knows what to do.

That smile tells it all.

Jensen hooks one!

OK   Jensen can go home saying he caught another fish.

 

After another 2 hours we decided to reel in and head back to the marina.  On reeling in, Jane yelled, “I have another fish on!”  Just then from over our heads, an osprey dove down and picked up her fish.  As the bird flew off, the reel on Jane’s pole was spinning wildly.  I was awestruck about what to do.  I fumbled for my knife to perhaps cut the line.  Barb grabbed the camera and got a picture.  Jane stood strong and unnerved.  At last the drag and the weight of the line began to pull down the osprey.  It dropped the fish.  Jane, almost automatically and methodically, reeled in the fish. 

The seahawk (osprey) grabs Jane's fish.

After dropping the fish, the seahawk hovers over us for some time.

The fish.  Jane pointing at osprey.  "I beat a seahawk!"

 

“Jane,” I interjected, “you know the other name for an osprey?  The other name is ‘seahawk.'  You just defeated a seahawk.” 

“Alright,” said Jane, I just beat a seahawk.”

New Grand Girls

Reya Mckenzie Aune-Scheetz
born 2/22/15
in Atlanta Georgia

Madelyn Adele Kelly
born 3/19/15
in Puyallup

ReMaster

Jenill, a friend on Penny’s since grade school in Michigan, arrived at the house early and settled in with Reya’s care.  The two hour drive to Augusta was dominated by low gray clouds, sometimes a drop or two hitting the windshield.  Ben declared on the way, “It’s a Tacoma type of morning.”  On arrival at Augusta National, I strapped on my ankle brace and grabbed my cane, ready to roll.  Today, Tuesday, is a practice round, and although there are strict rules forbidding cell phones, they allow cameras today.  The security resembles a TSA approach, including metal detectors.  We stopped by the store and made our purchases.  Shirts, caps, glass, art, and a plethora of Masters’ memorabilia are quite abundant and not cheap.  The food, however, is very reasonable, a sandwich and an iced tea costing $3 total.    We set our chairs this time on the slope beside and near the 16^th green then began our walk. 

16

 

We walked backwards 16, 15, 14, etc. to meet the oncoming groups.  We paused midway on 13^th, the famous dogleg left, a par 5 of 510 yards with 1,600 azaleas in full bloom lining the hole. 

The approach to 13

along 13

 

We then made our way to the formidable 12^th, at 155 yards, perhaps the most famous hole in golf.  There was a huge crowd as Jim Furyk, Ryan Palmer, Jimmy Walker, Tom Kite, and Ben Crenshaw were ready to tee off.  This was indeed a fortunate happenstance as Ben Crenshaw had recently announced that this would be his last Masters.  The younger pros teed of first and all landed on the green.  Ben Crenshaw then hit, finding the green as well.  Standing in the midst of the gallery, after the respectful cheering had stopped, I remarked to my Ben standing next to me, “This must be an easy hole.”   Several heads turned my way, looking in disbelief to find the one who would dare make such an ignorant comment.  Tommy Kite took three tee shots, two into the water and the third, still short, into the trap.  The caddies picked up the bags and the 5 some, party of 10, made their way over the Ben Hogan bridge to the green.

Crenshaw teeing off at his last practice round at Augusta.

Over the Hogan Bridge

 

The walk continued up 11 to 10 where we found the site of one of the most famous and remarkable shots in golf. 

Up 10 from the green

 

 Bubba Watson, in his 2012 win, hooked a shot deep out of the woods to roll onto the green, clinching a par in the second hole of the playoff, and a Masters win.

Bubba's lie.  Hole is hidden 155 yards away far to the right.

 

We then proceeded to the clubhouse area, walked up between 1 and 9, came back between 2 and 8, crossed over to 3 and 7.  We had lunch at the concession stand by the 7^th tee. 

Planning the walk from 18

Lunch near 7

  After lunch we crossed to 16.  My ankles were beginning to rebel more loudly and for the rest of the day we sat in the sun, watching a unique spectacle.

Number 16 is a par 3, 170 yards.  It is the hole in which Tiger in 2005, laying left of the green, lofted a chip high on the back of the green, then we all watched the ball roll toward the hole, stop at the rim for a Nike logo promo, then drop in the cup for a birdie.  That shot allowed him to tie the 18 and win in a green jacket in a playoff.  It one of the most beautiful holes, water extending from tee to green, with turtles sunning themselves at water’s edge.   The unique spectacle that occurs during the practice rounds at this hole is, after the pros have hit their shot toward the green, the crowd (which is large as huge grandstands give view of 16 and 15) eggs on the pros to drop balls on the downslope to the water.  Then each, bouncing their balls across the water, vies to see who can come closer to the hole.  Bubba Watson had the most unique shot.  He bounced it off the water, skipping into the bank where it bounced off a turtle, high into the air to land in the back of the green.   I feel that, other than sitting in the grandstand on 18 on Sunday, that 16 has one of the best views on the course.  The gentle hills on both sides of the hole allow for unobstructed views with close proximity.

Seated at 16

Skipping ball.  Splash at center, ball is far left.

We sat in the warm sunshine but were aware that some rain cells were due around 5.  Alas, unexpectedly, a deluge hit us early before we could get to the car to retrieve our umbrellas.  Heavy drops came for around 20 minutes and thoroughly soaked us.  The only cover from the storm that we had, and we used them the best we could, was our chairs.  The deluge passed and the sun came out.  Within the hour, in the 80 degrees, we were pretty dry.  The shower did halt play and several groups either quit or skipped holes.  I only caught a glimpse of Ryan Moore as he played alone up nearby 7 but my ankles did not permit me to catch up with him.  Tiger played only 9 so he did not come through 16.

Rain shelter.

Rory

Bubba

 

Barb made several trips to the concession stands for $1.50 sandwiches and tea or soda at the same price.  Beer this year had gone up to $4 but I have yet to have a beer at Augusta as it doesn’t mix well with the Tylenol which I take to manage the pain.  We left Augusta National around 5 and drove home in heaving traffic.

My overriding impressions of the Masters still remain from the blog entry last year.  This is an event of deep respect.  There are no advertisements and no luxury seating. There is cheap food and thorough organization.  The emphasis is not drink, or cell phone, or golf equipment, or parties.  I saw only a few selfies.  I saw lots of golf, and I saw today, the best players in world, playing to the fans to show their appreciation to those of us who love the game so much.

 

  

Premasters

We arrived in Atlanta around 6 pm on Wednesday, April 1, and made our way to B and P’s via Marta.  It was a 40 minute ride which would have taken us over an hour via car.  Ben met us at the station, saving us the 11 minute walk to their home.    Reya, asleep in her bassinette in the livingroom, had grown so much in the month since we’ve seen her.

Reya, our southern belle

 

We spent Thursday tending to Reya and on Friday afternoon, we headed to the lake.  Ben had projects in mind, sealing the recently pressure washed driveway, and putting the boat in the water.   Summer is on the way so preparations for the busy water season were put in place.  It rained off and on throughout the weekend, cramping our work and causing some anxiety over our Tuesday activity.  Barb and I attended an Easter sunrise service.

 

The lake home from the water's edge

Reya's Easter outfit

Resurfacing the driveway.

Preparing the chairs for a warm summer.

On Sunday evening we traveled back to Atlanta.  Ben went to work on Monday while we began our Masters preparation.