Wandering Wahls

People always should be thinking of the thanks they owe for their blessings. This was a philosophy instilled by my late mother. No matter how bad things were, she always would remind me of the many things I had to be thankful for (though at 10 years old, trying to reconcile the horrors of losing one of my 75 Matchbox cars with the knowledge that some kids didn’t even have one Matchbox car was sometimes lost on me). I do try to practice her lesson of life. I should do better, but I do try.

Thanksgiving, though, is a time when we actually stop and do think about being thankful. For me, there are the usual (not that extraordinary things are usual, but it’s just a phrase): an astonishing wife who puts up with me; my children who never fail to impress me with the skills (I’m referring to non-electronic here); family and friends who welcome us at every visit. And, there is what I call the newfound blessings — things that occur each year because of new experiences. Our trip, for one, has introduced us to many wonderful and generous people and allows us to see great friends across the U.S. who we wouldn’t be able to see unless we were on the road. Or our military life that gave us lifelong friends and experiences around the world that we might not otherwise have experienced.

So then, I’d like to offer a Thanksgiving “Letter of Thanks” written by Julia Foster, my late mother-in-law (and herself a spouse to an Air Force officer, the late Col. John Foster), to her children. She was a journalist and travel writer and an intrepid adventurer. Even in her 80s, she was one of our most frequent visitors as we lived in far-flung locales such as Okinawa, Japan, and Germany. With every visit, she would spur us on with “where should we go today” and to meet new people and see new things, all the while writing down the adventures she was having. She was in many ways responsible for our current journey. Her love of travel was instilled in Mary Claire, and we know she would have approved and encouraged our sojourn across America. Heck, she probably would have bought a camper and hitched it to our RV.

Her letter, written a few years ago but found recently by her daughter Ann, offers a great story and prayer for us at Thanksgiving and echoes many of our family’s thoughts. So, for this Thanksgiving, a …

“Letter of Thanks … from One of Yours.

When I hear Amazing Grace ring forth at the end of Mass, I think about special gifts that saved a wretch like me. Thanks, Lord, for this country, broad and wide, for the state with most beautiful coastline, for the city with open spaces (a few left) and Cliffside walk. I can walk along the cliffs and looking over the ocean, see a far horizon. Once I thought my husband, who was killed at sea, would be cruising his boat back from there. But maybe You needed him on the far side. I am so thankful for the young men whose lives you returned, for strength to go on through that ordeal and through the signs of God’s Bay. Thank you for three sons and their families, for a young daughter-mother and hers, for two other daughters with careers. Keep them close when they stray. Bring them back to the fold and the flock, and keep us all in your grace.

Thanks for the inspired life of my mother, who is 95 this year. Give her the grace of a happy death, but let us have her well until you call. Your eye is on us sparrows, so my wishes are known. Help me to grow in the sphere you create for me on earth, and to be worthy of a call when my time comes.

Your loving servant, J.”

Happy Thanksgiving.

We are at Nappanee, Ind., where Newmar, the manufacturer of our RV, is located (northwest Indiana below South Bend. Go Irish!). Our RV required some miscellaneous warranty work and the “veteran” fulltime RVers recommended coming to the factory to have this done.

What was really fun during our stay was visiting the area. First, we went to the Science Center in Fort Wayne (about 60 miles from Nappanee). What a great place, even for adults. The museum is in Fort Wayne’s old utility plant, and they’ve maintained the original equipment and built the exhibits around them. If you have a chance, visit this museum. I would rate it the best we’ve visited to date.

The best part, however, has been exploring Nappanee, which has the third-largest Amish community in the states. It has been a learning experience seeing the buggies going by and talking to the Amish who are working on our RV. We’ve also met Nelson Miller, whose family owns Miller Orchards (see photos). He sells delicious pure apple cider (no pasteurization), apple butter, and other products. Our visit with Nelson turned out to be one of those memories that will last forever and remind us how good and nice people can be. This definitely is a place — and person — we’ll come back to visit.

After talking a bit, Nelson invited us on a tour of his facility and patiently explained the whole operation, as well as aspects of Amish life that my children were curious about. He also introduced us to his father, Harley, a fun man with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his face (a bit like his son). The first thing Harley told us was his father was named David, so he was “Harley David’s son.” Get it?

Harley took us to see his auto collection: a 1936 Model A, a 1928 Model T, and a 1914 Model T. All were in great shape and original condition, down to the kerosene lamps in the first Model T.

The best part though (I think this must be my third “best part,” so please excuse me, but this really was the best part) was discovering Nelson could converse with my son in Pennsylvania Dutch while my son spoke the local German dialect he learned while we were stationed at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. The two dialects of German are close enough that each was able to understand the other.

What a moment! Here we were in the middle of an Amish community and my 11 year old was carrying on a conversation in German with a man speaking an old dialect of German particular to his community in the U.S. It was an almost surreal moment to see these two having a conversation, as much a surprise to me as it was to Nelson.

It was a great moment to see my child using a talent gained from our military life and knowing that this never would have been discovered if we had not made this journey across America. Watching Nelson and Joe was one of the great “finds” we will see from our trip and opened me eyes that future finds we will discover on this trip won’t be limited to seeing things like National Parks, restaurants, and museums.

We picked up my dad at the Omaha airport last week and drove him up to his aunt’s house in Sioux Falls, S.D., for a family visit. My dad is 86 and my aunt is 79, so it was good to get them together. The visit was also fun because I haven’t had the chance to sit with my aunt and chat for many years. However, the pinnacle of the visit was a trip to their childhood home in Larchwood, Iowa — and to see my kids’ reaction to what their great aunt and grandpa had versus what they have.

My dad grew up on a farm in a very rural area. I have heard many stories and was curious about the area (especially about how the route to school could be uphill both ways). We found the house, pulled into the drive, and knocked on the door of a new house obviously being built to replace the old one. The current owner drove up at that time, and I explained who my dad was, how he left the house in 1943 to go to war, and how he attended the school in town three miles away (the owner’s friend’s response was “was it uphill both ways?” How did he know?).

We were happily invited to go inside the old home. It turns out that visiting the house at this date was great timing, because the current owner is set to demolish the place when harvesting is done. The new owner’s parents bought the house from my grandparent’s landlord in 1948, and the guy remembered my dad’s family.

At the time my dad left the house for the war, it had no electricity, heating, or indoor plumbing. My dad told me the house was slated to have plumbing and the attic was set up for piping, but his dad (my grandfather) decided to store grain up there. The current owner told us he took over the house from his parents, and indoor plumbing was installed in 1963, because his daughter was going to marry someone “from back East,” and they thought his family wouldn’t want to stay in a house without plumbing for the wedding.

It was fascinating to show the kids this house that was not much bigger than our RV and housed a family of six without heating, plumbing, or electricity. The kids liked seeing the second-story window my dad talked about using as a nightly alternative to the outhouse on cold winter nights. They also heard how the ice man would deliver a block of ice each week and how the house had manure put around the outside base of the house in the winter for insulation — and this really was not that long ago. What we couldn’t find, though, was the route to school that went uphill to and fro.

We have made a diversion from our route to Montana, Wyoming, and South Dakota to head down to Fort Leavenworth, Kan. Our good friends from Bann, Germany, the Walters, are stationed there as Terry attends the Army’s Command and General Staff School. The trip was diverted because of Halloween. We wanted to be somewhere fun, with friends of our children, and in a real neighborhood (as opposed to an RV Park. Trick or treating from RV to RV didn’t sound like fun for the kids.). We were in Rapid City, S.D., and decided to turn right and head down to Kansas.

The change in course ended up being a good decision in many ways. First, it was really good to see our friends again (my wife delivered their oldest and youngest children, so there is something special about seeing them —  and the good supply of wine and beer they had). Second, our kids and their kids had great fun together, and ours were able to play and talk with someone other than a sibling.

The other area that stood out though was being back in a military neighborhood (our friends live off base but in a neighborhood that is primarily military) and the welcome we were greeted with. Soon after we parked our RV in front of our friend’s house, people were introducing themselves and talking with us about our trip, the RV, Germany, et cetera. Granted, it’s hard not to notice a 41-foot RV towing a Volvo and taking up half the street’s width, but there was a welcome and familiarity that reminded me why being near a military base is one of the things we’d like to find in a place to call home. There are so many commonalities, from mutual acquaintances to places visited, it’s easy to feel right at home in this type of neighborhood.

Plus, a military career can lead to a broad array of experiences, (e.g., having been downrange, stationed overseas, et cetera.). So, I’ve always enjoyed the ready beer and conversations about current affairs, sports, travel, RV travel that stem from people’s different experiences, insights, and thoughts based on their stations and travel. I married into the military late (my wife had served 9 years already), so I was uninformed about the military as a career and life. As I followed my wife to different assignments, I came to realize military people have a diverse view of various subjects. 

Anyway, as we continue our adventure across America, we hope to see more military communities as we hook up (not in the RV sense) with more of our military friends, because one of the best parts of the military is making lifelong friends who we can get together with on a moment’s notice and share memories of places seen and been.

“Dad, there’s water on the floor!”

That is not what a parent likes to hear at three in the morning, especially if the family is living in an RV; and, if the son is calling from the bathroom, I mean, are we talking grey or black water, and how close is it to our bedroom?

First, the water system in an RV is divided into the grey water (water from the sink and shower drains), black water (you can guess where this comes from), and the fresh water tanks (this supplies all water —drinking, washing, flushing, et cetera.).

As you see, my son’s cry carried a few unknown specifics, the worst of which was racing through my mind, though my wife shot up faster than I could to yell “what kind of water?” I guess all of her on-call nights waiting for notice of babies’ deliveries makes her better suited to wake up to nighttime alerts — that and her distaste for all sewage water issues in our RV.

What had happened that night was that the temperature was supposed to be about 15 degrees outside. We had been in RV parks in Yellowstone and Bozeman, Mo., in the same situation. The best suggestion to date had been to leave a faucet inside the RV open a little and our outside grey water tank open so the water would drain out. This setup would keep water flowing and keep the water hose that was supplying water to the RV from becoming a frozen snake (as our camp host so eloquently put it). The setup worked great.

When we got to Buffalo, I decided to do the same procedure, as opposed to unhooking the hose and redoing it in the morning. I didn’t feel like walking out in freezing temps to unhook a hose. So, I turned on the bathroom faucet a slight amount at bedtime. But, because we weren’t hooked up to a sewer drain (it was an old park and the drain was behind our RV, not near the front where the drain from the RV is), my wife asked if the tank would fill up by morning with the faucet on.

I considered that our fresh water tank was about 100 gallons, therefore, I told Mary Claire all was fine and we can go to bed. Possibly because of the late hour, my age, or a combination of both, what I hadn’t figured in my figuring was the correct tank. The water from the bathroom faucet that went into the drain went into the grey water tank — not the fresh water tank. Thus, at three in the morning, I was alerted to my mistake. The grey water tank had filled up and the water was overflowing from the shower drain onto the bathroom floor and into the hallway. Fortunately, we caught it early enough so that little water went outside the bathroom and no damage was done — other than the grey hairs on my head that resulted from the image of the black water tank overfilling (this wasn’t helped by my son’s second cry that there was something in the water).

The other fortunate thing was that the veteran RVers next to us can’t see mistakes that happen in our RV. So, with a hearty wave and a “Good Morning,” I was able to maneuver the RV over the sewage dump and drain the grey water at the first morning light.

As I’m driving our RV across the U.S. and seeing the diversity and wonders of our country (as well as Canada’s. After all, we did drive along the Canadian Rockies from Jasper to Banff.), I’m reminded of the opportunity we have in the States that some other countries do not have – to ignore the annoying political campaign signs that blot some nice roadside scenery. In addition, driving across our country also reminds me of the other great opportunity we have — to be able to vote. So this blog today is a reminder to go out and exercise your right and vote!

As for us, we are not eligible in any state this year to vote. We got our South Dakota license too late to register. Our other option, Nevada (our prior state of residence), requires a signed request for an absentee ballot. After finding out about South Dakota, we were too late to make our request. I’m still thinking about the candidates though.

The point here is to remind any readers to take advantage of one of our country’s benefits, one of the things that makes our country so great, and not to let the work of our military members who protect this right go to waste: even if I can’t, you should get your vote heard today!