THE STORY OF HOW I CAME ABOUT MY ALMOST COMPLETE COLLECTION OF NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINES By Robert L. Huffstutter
CHAPTER ONE
When I was a little kid (child), I had an elderly couple who lived across the street from me. She was a cheerful lady, always out in her yard tending to her flowers, always wearing a floral bonnet tied up beneath her chin with long, wide strings.
Those outfits she wore were nearly as colorful as her garden.
And her garden? My, what an array of floral splendor, but a most informal type of garden. It was only in the last few years that I learned the definition of English garden. Thus, it was an English garden she was tending, all dressed in her gingham outfits and bonnets, always smiling.
She had the cheeks of a character illustrated in a very deluxe and leather-bound tale of English fables with graphics that were the state of the arts in the late 1890s. She was a child of the 19th century who had grown old and grand in the mid 20th century. But more about her as the feminine half of the couple I mentioned before entering upon this detailed and refined description of the lady whose name was Mrs Bresingham, an English name, perchance, but it was the name of her man, her husband, that male counterpart of this couple I want to tell more about, but in time.
Now, Mrs. Bresingham would trim her garden with snippers as I watched, tossing leaves and greenery behind her but never near me. She sensed my presence before she peered up with her blue eyes that knew no shadows and only reflected the sunlight that streamed through the gaps between the many diverse and mature trees that adorned her yard. But not her yard alone, for it was her husband's yard too.
"Hello, Bobby," she would speak so precisely as our eyes met. And her eyes were so blue they fascinated me. It was only later in life that I imagined they might have reflected the sea near the White Cliffs of Dover on a clear day, but at that time, at that moment in time, I had yet to hear about the White Cliffs or the songs that were sung about them in the war years. And the war years had ended only five years from the time when this scene I am describing took place.
"Hello, Mrs. Bresingham," I would respond and stand at a kind of attention stance, watching her.
Alas, she would take off her gloves, lay down her shears and adjust her bonnet while untying her chin strings. "The mister is expecting your visit, " she would say softly. "He is so happy you are going to visit with him for awhile."
CHAPTER TWO
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
MOTOMACHI MEMORIES: REMEMBERING JAPAN OF THE 1960S
IN RESPONSE TO A COMMENT MADE ABOUT THIS PHOTO ON MY FLICKR PHOTOSTREAM. Comment made by Quietude
TO QUIETUDE...Thank you for your comments.
We share many of the same memories and this makes us good friends in that the sights we saw are memories. That we now realize that change takes place and removes the realtiy of returning, we share the same thoughts about those memories being real, and memories that trigger pleasant thoughts.
Thank you very much for mentioning Motomachi, an area where a young man from far away found much joy and friendship among the people there at that time. I knew many of the shop-keepers, the owners and cooks of the small soba shops and restaurants.
There were many weekends spent in Motomachi. Although pizza was relatively a new item, especially in Japan, we found a place where pizza was sold. So, the weekends were filled with special moments, conversation, sketching, reading haiku and American poetry, pizza and sometimes sake and sometime soft drinks.
If the night was cold, the innkeeper would bring us a small iron vessel with charcoal embers that radiated heat enough. The rooms were traditional, with tatami mats, one small and low table, and a futon. There was no Television provided, but a radio was tuned to the popular Japanese songs of the day, thus the nights were filled with melodies and haunting, romantic lyrics, love songs mostly, long gone, songs that are probably much like the USA's Golden Oldies.
Yes, I loved the Japanese music too. Sometimes, specail times in our lives are not destined to last, but to serve only as memories of our youth and special times in youth, a time to remember when we grow older and need to reflect on our youth. Thus, that is the view I must take of Motomachi memories, lest I be burdened by too many regrets. Regrets, I have a few, but far too many to remember everyday. Frank Sinatra said it best in song...
TO QUIETUDE...Thank you for your comments.
We share many of the same memories and this makes us good friends in that the sights we saw are memories. That we now realize that change takes place and removes the realtiy of returning, we share the same thoughts about those memories being real, and memories that trigger pleasant thoughts.
Thank you very much for mentioning Motomachi, an area where a young man from far away found much joy and friendship among the people there at that time. I knew many of the shop-keepers, the owners and cooks of the small soba shops and restaurants.
There were many weekends spent in Motomachi. Although pizza was relatively a new item, especially in Japan, we found a place where pizza was sold. So, the weekends were filled with special moments, conversation, sketching, reading haiku and American poetry, pizza and sometimes sake and sometime soft drinks.
If the night was cold, the innkeeper would bring us a small iron vessel with charcoal embers that radiated heat enough. The rooms were traditional, with tatami mats, one small and low table, and a futon. There was no Television provided, but a radio was tuned to the popular Japanese songs of the day, thus the nights were filled with melodies and haunting, romantic lyrics, love songs mostly, long gone, songs that are probably much like the USA's Golden Oldies.
Yes, I loved the Japanese music too. Sometimes, specail times in our lives are not destined to last, but to serve only as memories of our youth and special times in youth, a time to remember when we grow older and need to reflect on our youth. Thus, that is the view I must take of Motomachi memories, lest I be burdened by too many regrets. Regrets, I have a few, but far too many to remember everyday. Frank Sinatra said it best in song...
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
RARE PHOTO OF MY GRANDFATHER, BORN IN 1856
To Kayceetee and Salinagrrrl...........Thanks for the comments, feedback and suggestions. No, it is the way it is, the way I happened to find it several days ago. Had never seen it and I have only a few photos of this man who is responsible for my presence in that, of course, he is my grandfather.
His story is somewhat unique in that he began a second family in the 1890s, the family that includes my uncles and my dad. According to the family legend, he wanted to leave what was his original home and journey to Missouri to begin a new enterprise. There are several stories about where he called home. What is somewhat odd is that he was married and had children in whatever was his location. And like so many men in today's world, he simply decided to go to greener pastures. His wife, however, was not willing to pack up and leave. Here is the rub--was she simply an independent woman who felt like she had a right to weigh in on the decision or was she, according to Scripture, disobediant in that she did not obey her husband's wishes and did not support his plans for seeking new opportunities?
Now, so far removed from that domestic situation, I have no way to find out the exact details. I do know that wherever he was when he decided to move without his wife and family, there would be the descendents of those who know the details. Whatsmore, since he had a very large family, there are descendents to whom I am related but have not responded to any of my inquiries.
In more than one instance when inquiring, I received not even an acknowledgement that there are other people who are related to them.
That my grandfather was a man who followed his dreams can be attested to by the fact that, according to the stories I've heard, he simply "packed his wagon and headed to Missouri." From what we have been able to put together, he settled first in Tarkio, Missouri, northwest of Laredo, Missouri. To bring this part of the story to a conclusion, Robert Levi moved to Laredo, a railroad town, in the 1890s and married a woman named Sarah Jane or Sarah Ann Rooks. She was twenty-plus years his junior. I do not know if she was previously married or whether her union with Robert Levi was her first marriage.
Robert and Sarah had a large family. His first child was Frank, born on New Year's Day in eithr 1899 or 1900. (If there are relatives reading this who know the exact date, they are welcome to contact me via my Flicker E-mail, the only E-mail that I am able to use due to a real large amount of confusion using the messenger service, etc).
Grandad Huffstutter and Grandmother Huffstutter's family consisted of: George Francis Huffstutter, James Eldon Huffstutter, Ella Huffstutter, Lenore Huffstutter, Marietta Huffstutter and my dad, the last sibling, born in 1912. Sarah, the mother, died either in childbirth with my dad, or within several years thereafter. The information is available, but I have forgotten. Grandad Huffstutter lived from 1856 until 1938. He passed away four years before my birth. Yes, it would have been great to have known him.
His youngest grandchild would be, according to my calculation, my sister Linn, born in June of 1943. According to my stats, I am his last grandson, thus I do feel a link to him that transcends much time with very little interruption from his birth to mine, the only link, my dad. Many people believe I am referring to my great grandfather when I mention that my grandad was nine years old when President Lincoln's life ended. No, he was my grandfather.
Throughout my lifetime, I have met Huffstutters who know nothing about this tale. I have also met other Huffstutters, or talked with them via phone, who acknowledged that they were related to my grandfather, but were not sure where the links were.
One of my first contacts with another Huffstutter I never met was in the autumn of 1958 when my high school buddy and I decided to drive to Denver. We were only 16, and we surprised our parents by taking this unauthorized trip. Anyway, while in Denver, I looked in the phone book and found a Huffstutter, called them and recall they said, "yes, we are related." I do not recall their first names, but I was elated, finding a new family member. It was a real find for a 16 year old boy.
My next encounter with a Huffstutter was while in Japan. I decided I wanted to go to Hiroshima and caught a ride on a USN plane from NAS Atsugi to MCAS Iwakuni, Japan. Upon checking into the desk at the Marine Corps Air Station, a Marine behind the counter asked if I was related to Colonel (Lt-Col) Hardy V. Huffstutter, a base or wing commander, I cannot recall. He might have been the base commander, I do not know. I responded truthfully, elated that I might be related to a Marine officer. "Yes, I think we are distant relatives," I answered.
There are many Huffstutters out there. According to the family tree, one I viewed at a website that existed several years ago called "The Huffstutter Connection" the first Huffstutter, arrived in this country from Switzerland. The year was 1732, the port, Philadelphia, the vessel, the Priscilla. According to extended history, he fought in the Indian wars and the Revolutionary War.
There was a cartoon series I enjoyed when I was younger. It ended with the familiar words, "That's All Folks." Thus, that is the story around my Grandfather in a nutshell. If there are those who want to share more information, feel welcome to send me a Flicker E Mail.
Robert L. Huffstutter
His story is somewhat unique in that he began a second family in the 1890s, the family that includes my uncles and my dad. According to the family legend, he wanted to leave what was his original home and journey to Missouri to begin a new enterprise. There are several stories about where he called home. What is somewhat odd is that he was married and had children in whatever was his location. And like so many men in today's world, he simply decided to go to greener pastures. His wife, however, was not willing to pack up and leave. Here is the rub--was she simply an independent woman who felt like she had a right to weigh in on the decision or was she, according to Scripture, disobediant in that she did not obey her husband's wishes and did not support his plans for seeking new opportunities?
Now, so far removed from that domestic situation, I have no way to find out the exact details. I do know that wherever he was when he decided to move without his wife and family, there would be the descendents of those who know the details. Whatsmore, since he had a very large family, there are descendents to whom I am related but have not responded to any of my inquiries.
In more than one instance when inquiring, I received not even an acknowledgement that there are other people who are related to them.
That my grandfather was a man who followed his dreams can be attested to by the fact that, according to the stories I've heard, he simply "packed his wagon and headed to Missouri." From what we have been able to put together, he settled first in Tarkio, Missouri, northwest of Laredo, Missouri. To bring this part of the story to a conclusion, Robert Levi moved to Laredo, a railroad town, in the 1890s and married a woman named Sarah Jane or Sarah Ann Rooks. She was twenty-plus years his junior. I do not know if she was previously married or whether her union with Robert Levi was her first marriage.
Robert and Sarah had a large family. His first child was Frank, born on New Year's Day in eithr 1899 or 1900. (If there are relatives reading this who know the exact date, they are welcome to contact me via my Flicker E-mail, the only E-mail that I am able to use due to a real large amount of confusion using the messenger service, etc).
Grandad Huffstutter and Grandmother Huffstutter's family consisted of: George Francis Huffstutter, James Eldon Huffstutter, Ella Huffstutter, Lenore Huffstutter, Marietta Huffstutter and my dad, the last sibling, born in 1912. Sarah, the mother, died either in childbirth with my dad, or within several years thereafter. The information is available, but I have forgotten. Grandad Huffstutter lived from 1856 until 1938. He passed away four years before my birth. Yes, it would have been great to have known him.
His youngest grandchild would be, according to my calculation, my sister Linn, born in June of 1943. According to my stats, I am his last grandson, thus I do feel a link to him that transcends much time with very little interruption from his birth to mine, the only link, my dad. Many people believe I am referring to my great grandfather when I mention that my grandad was nine years old when President Lincoln's life ended. No, he was my grandfather.
Throughout my lifetime, I have met Huffstutters who know nothing about this tale. I have also met other Huffstutters, or talked with them via phone, who acknowledged that they were related to my grandfather, but were not sure where the links were.
One of my first contacts with another Huffstutter I never met was in the autumn of 1958 when my high school buddy and I decided to drive to Denver. We were only 16, and we surprised our parents by taking this unauthorized trip. Anyway, while in Denver, I looked in the phone book and found a Huffstutter, called them and recall they said, "yes, we are related." I do not recall their first names, but I was elated, finding a new family member. It was a real find for a 16 year old boy.
My next encounter with a Huffstutter was while in Japan. I decided I wanted to go to Hiroshima and caught a ride on a USN plane from NAS Atsugi to MCAS Iwakuni, Japan. Upon checking into the desk at the Marine Corps Air Station, a Marine behind the counter asked if I was related to Colonel (Lt-Col) Hardy V. Huffstutter, a base or wing commander, I cannot recall. He might have been the base commander, I do not know. I responded truthfully, elated that I might be related to a Marine officer. "Yes, I think we are distant relatives," I answered.
There are many Huffstutters out there. According to the family tree, one I viewed at a website that existed several years ago called "The Huffstutter Connection" the first Huffstutter, arrived in this country from Switzerland. The year was 1732, the port, Philadelphia, the vessel, the Priscilla. According to extended history, he fought in the Indian wars and the Revolutionary War.
There was a cartoon series I enjoyed when I was younger. It ended with the familiar words, "That's All Folks." Thus, that is the story around my Grandfather in a nutshell. If there are those who want to share more information, feel welcome to send me a Flicker E Mail.
Robert L. Huffstutter
Monday, February 8, 2010
80's spandex girls
WHEN I SAW THIS PHOTO, I THOUGHT ABOUT THE EARLY MORNINGS IN THE 80S WHEN I FIRST TURNED ON THE TUBE AND SAW A SEXY GROUP OF MOST APPEALING YOUNG WOMEN DOING AEROBICS. OH', IT WAS SUCH A STIMULATING SHOW, SO FULL OF APPEAL AND PURE LUST; IT WAS CALLED "THE TWENTY-MINUTE WORKOUT." YES, I BECAME AN INSTANT FAN. I WORKED OUT RIGHT ALONG SIDE OF THEM. IT WAS NOT TOO LONG AFTERWARDS THAT I BOUGHT MY FIRST 55 INCH TV....
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80's spandex girls
Uploaded by lovesthesmokeyladies on 21
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80's spandex girls
Uploaded by lovesthesmokeyladies on 21
Decatur, IL Neon Shoes
WOW.............yes, it has the "wow" factor I kid you not. These old signs are a definite reminder of an era when coffee was a nickel or a dime and beer was usually no more than 25 cents per large mug. I cannot tell you how many times I wandered beneath these signs back in the 60s after a night at the Cozy Inn, to check into my hotel room for the night in some city across the USA. Oftentimes, there was one of these buzzing neon "hotel" signs right outside my window.
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Decatur, IL Neon Shoes
Decatur, IL: Looking south...Classic neon sign for Raupp's Florsheim Shoes on Water St. in downtown Decatur.
Uploaded by pobrecito33 on 19 Nov 09, 4.19PM PST
POBRECITO HAS A REALLY FANTASTIC PHOTOSTREAM ON FLICKR AND I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READERS TO PAY THE PHOTOSTREAM A VISIT. Robert, Editor BLOGABOUTMEMORIES...
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Decatur, IL Neon Shoes
Decatur, IL: Looking south...Classic neon sign for Raupp's Florsheim Shoes on Water St. in downtown Decatur.
Uploaded by pobrecito33 on 19 Nov 09, 4.19PM PST
POBRECITO HAS A REALLY FANTASTIC PHOTOSTREAM ON FLICKR AND I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READERS TO PAY THE PHOTOSTREAM A VISIT. Robert, Editor BLOGABOUTMEMORIES...
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Happy New Year for all!
Happy New Year for all!
I wish 2010 will be an amazing year for all of us!
Uploaded by Princess Cy on 31 Dec 09, 7.50AM PST.
I wish 2010 will be an amazing year for all of us!
Uploaded by Princess Cy on 31 Dec 09, 7.50AM PST.
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