Letters to Mamie

I don’t normally write reviews of books but I was in bucolic Waxahachie, Texas (Crepe Myrtle Capital of the world…or so the sign says) cruising the antique and curio shops (yes…I really have taken up the practice) in search of the unusual when I came upon the book which caught my eye.

Now, these little Courthouse Square shops often have lots of classic Americana, ancient medicine bottles, real wooden secretary desks and a plethora of dishes, jewelry and family heirlooms from bygone eras as well as an amazing number of funny T shirts (Diane), hanging signs and coffee cups on subjects which would (possibly) make your Mother cringe as she pulled out the bar of soap.

As an amateur historian of little stature, my eye was immediately drawn to the title, “Letters to Mamie” by Dwight D. Eisenhower. Compiled by their son John S.D. Eisenhower, they are an interesting window into the Eisenhower story during World War II. Mamie apparently kept all 319 letters the General and future President wrote during those harrowing days up to the first Allied invasion of Africa in November of 1942, the Invasion of Italy up to and soon after D-Day until the end of the war. Alas, the future President did not keep any of her letters.

The letters were kept in a box in the Eisenhower home until Mamie offered them to John in 1972 after the Generals passing in 1969. John reviewed all of the letters (all handwritten by a man who normally dictated all his correspondence) and then set them aside. John had himself graduated from West Point on D-Day and spent some time attached to his fathers command during the war. John is an accomplished writer himself, having written one of the defining historical accounts of the Battle of the Bulge, “The Bitter Woods”.

Finally, in 1976, he began editing the letters for publication. It should be noted that these letters were never included in the Eisenhower papers ensconced in the Eisenhower Presidential Library so they are a unique outside perspective into the inner thoughts of Eisenhower during those troubling times. The book was published in 1978 a year before Mrs. Eisenhower’s passing in 1979.

John describes his fathers mood as “pensive” on his last visit home after being told by President Roosevelt he had been chosen to lead the American effort in Europe to plan, stage and execute the invasion of Africa and the ultimate liberation of Europe. Realizing, though a graduate of West Point class of 1915, Eisenhower missed WWI and had yet to prove himself in the field. Noted for his formidable skill set as a planner and organizer, he was still a Lt. Colonel when suddenly promoted by Roosevelt to Major General (unheard of at the time) to begin operations for the invasion of Europe. He was thus thrust into the world of proven military leaders like Churchill and Field Marshal Montgomery. Hey…congratulations on your promotion above more experienced officers and if you find the time, liberate Europe and defeat Hitler. Tough gig I’d say.

These letters not only show his affection for “Mrs. Ike” as he often referred to his wife, but some of the frustrations he was experiencing in his new role, the politics of disparate national leaders like DeGaulle and Stalin as well as his own Government and military like Patton. At the same time rigidly censoring his letters but often closing his letters with an oft-repeated plea that she not “forget” him.

Mamie and Ike

Eisenhower has a real connection to North Texas, where I live. He was born on October 14^th, 1890 in  Denison, Texas and his boyhood home is a State Park in Denison today. In 1892, the family moved to Abilene, Kansas where he spent most of his life. He met Mamie Doud while stationed in Texas and proposed to her Valentines Day, 1916. His mother was a self-made historian and had an extensive library of history books Eisenhower read which led to his interest in the military. His mother wasn’t very supportive of that. She was a Mennonite and later Jehovah’s Witness who hated war and was very disappointed when Eisenhower applied and then was admitted to West Point.

Little has been known of the perils Eisenhower faced while in that theater. He hated being stuck behind a desk and, often flying in terrible weather, flew many times throughout the British Isles, Africa and most of Europe in cantankerous transports and bombers while German aircraft still plied the skies to get real-time reports of battle. Because of this rugged schedule (and his constant struggle with cigarettes) he constantly fought a resilient flu throughout most of the war.

Eisenhower often refers to his loneliness and how much he misses Mamie. At one point he voiced to friends a need for animal companionship. He said he couldn’t speak to people about his mostly secret work but a dog couldn’t repeat anything and it would stave off the loneliness. So his co-workers got together and bought him a Scottish Terrier puppy named,“Scotty.”

Even in the most troubling moments, he notes that Mamie had moved back to their home from Officers Quarters and took the time to remind her to make sure she started their car occasionally to keep the battery up and to make sure she got the oil changed and drove it around to keep things running well. Even while dealing with the Nazi threat they still had to deal with the mundane day-to-day husband and wife stuff that make it marriage. His biggest complaints are the constant meetings, press conferences, political and diplomatic dinners and working lunches with people he really didn’t like being around. He wasn’t a big fan of big egos.

Interspersed in his letters Eisenhower often showed concern over the new world order and how it might effect our Democracy and the future world map after WWII. As you recall, Eisenhower first coined the phrase and his fear of the “military-industrial complex” and how it threatened America and its policies overseas. Eisenhower often voiced admiration for the Russian’s fighting spirit but always spoke cautiously about the future Communist leader’s intentions after the war.

As the successful African landings took place, the stress of his first real test of his plans really mounted. In one letter, he refers to Mamie as his “counter balance” and wished she were there,

“No one else in this world could ever fill your place with me-and that is the reason I need you. Maybe a simpler explanation is merely that I LOVE you!! (His emphasis) which I do, always. Never forget that, because, except for my duty, which I try to perform creditably, it is the only thing to which I can cling with confidence.” Algiers, December 30, 1942.

As the battles went on, moving through Tunisia, there was a stalemate at the Kasserine Pass which caused Eisenhower a lot of angst as his drive to rid North Africa of Germans came to a halt. Rommel had put together a substantial defense and the Allies were stalled and suffering. In the early days, Eisenhower had noted that the suffering and risk had been shared equally by his staff as well as the front line troops. But as time had gone by, he noticed the staff had fallen into a more office routine. Eisenhower was a real proponent of leading from the front and often took time to meet with troops (at great peril) close to the battle to talk and shake their hands. So among his staff and senior officers, he instituted the philosophy: Nobody who is not in a foxhole has a right to complain.

Of course, in wartime, soldiers can stray. He had initially brought over secretaries and staff from the U.S. in England (women Mamie knew personally) but now on the Continent, more women soldiers in the form of the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corp (WAACs) were doing the clerical work. Always concerned for his wife’s feelings, he ended one of his letters:

“Well my love, I’ve had a whole half hour alone. Seems like something must have happened to the place. I love you all the time-don’t go bothering your pretty head about WAACS-etc-etc. You must hold the thought that I’m not so worn out by the time this is all over that you’ll just have a wreck on your hands; because I’m on the run to you the day the victorious army marches into Berlin!” Algiers February 15^th, 1943

From Algiers he reemphasized his love for Mamie:

“It would be difficult to tell you how much I agree with your idea of just getting together after this war is over and never letting anything part us again. Sometimes I get so homesick for you, I don’t know what to do. But I always know this-for me there is only one woman and only one ambition with respect to a woman-that is to come a-running to you and hold on to you firmly-forever." Algiers February 28^th, 1943

Kay Summersby

Much has been made of the alleged affair between Kay Summersby and Eisenhower, mostly of a book she wrote, “Past Forgetting: My Love Affair with Dwight D. Eisenhower” after diagnosed with cancer in 1973. Since then, there has been much evidence that Summersby was not involved in the book but it was “ghost written” after her death, a complete fabrication according to those in the know.

There is mention of Summersby in a few letters, mostly talking about her service as a driver in England and then her engagement to a young US Army officer Lieutenant Colonel Richard "Dick" Arnold who was killed by a land mine during the African Campaign. Eisenhower thought she was an excellent driver asked her to join his staff in Africa and ultimately to become his personal secretary as well. To Mamie he wrote:

“So Life says my old London driver came down! so she did-but the big reasons she wanted to serve in this theatre is that she is terribly in love with a young American Colonel and is to be married to him come  June-assuming both are alive. I doubt that Life told that. But I tell you only so that if anyone is banal and foolish enough to lift an eyebrow at an old duffer such as I am in connection with WAACs-Red Cross workers-nurses and drivers-you will know I’ve no emotional involvements and will have none.” Algiers March 2^nd, 1943

After successes in North Africa and Italy, Eisenhower was tasked with planning and executing the invasion of France (no pressure). By 1944, Eisenhower was interested in the politics of the time in that they had Roosevelt since the beginning of the war and he wondered aloud how he might have a new commander-in-chief to deal with (not initially in that Roosevelt returned for an unprecedented 4^th term that year). He wrote to Mamie:

“Judging from the newspapers the political pot is really boiling at home. Of course the local papers don carry the full story of American politics, but I do see enough to know there are quite a few people that would like to be President. I wonder how many of them really believe they could swing the job.

I wonder how I’ll feel about staying in the Army a while after all this is over. I suspect I’ll want to retire to go our own way-but we can never tell that far ahead. But so long as you are right with me I don’t care much what I do.” London April 24^th , 1944

Even during this pressure cooker period leading up to D-Day, Eisenhower had to respond to an inquiry of Mamie’s about payment of taxes. He wrote her:

“I suppose you’re keeping up the income tax payments. After I came back from the U.S. I paid our residue on 1943-which, as you remember was about $450. But I asked the Captain from Stoner’s office to keep in touch with you to keep up payments during ’44. (Yes Tonia….even the Eisenhowers had to pay the IRS).

Of course, everyone knows the story of the ending of World War II, constant pressure from both the Allies from Europe and those pesky Russians from the east put the nail in the coffin of Hitler and his sometimes reluctant Generals do save the 1000 year Reich on May 8^th, 1945. With Hitler’s death and the end of hostilities, Eisenhower became a witness to Hitlers efforts to eliminate Jews and other cultural groups in the final solution. Eisenhower was clearly moved and appalled by what he saw, mandating that residents of neighboring towns to the various death camps be forced to see the evil and destruction which they blindly ignored for years.

Eisenhower was relieved on November 10^th, 1945 and made it back to his beloved Mamie. After the war, he served as Army Chief of Staff (1945–1948), as president of Columbia University (1948–1953) and as the first Supreme Commander of NATO (1951–1952). Although he promised Mamie he would hang up his spurs and just end his days in Abilene, Kansas with her, in 1952, Eisenhower entered the presidential race as a Republican to block the isolationist foreign policies of Senator Robert A. Taft; Taft opposed NATO and wanted no foreign entanglements. Eisenhower won that election and the 1956 election in landslides, both times defeating Adlai Stevenson II.

This book is not just about history, although it certainly contains many little tidbits which make Eisenhower come to life, it is a testament to an enduring love between two soulmates married for 53 years when Eisenhower passed away on March 28^th, 1969. He was 78. Mamie survived him by ten

years passing away on November 1^st, 1979 at 82.

Life Happens

Ok....I’m not writing this for my friends or anyone else who might see this. I’m sort of venting and memorializing at the same time. As some of you may know, my beautiful wife and partner of 45 years, Dianna, passed away on September 24th, 2018. It was sudden and quite unexpected. She was 62 years old and though she had some medical issues, none would lead anyone to suspect her death was imminent. As her Doctor put it, “If we had put her through a body scan 20 minutes before this happened, we wouldn’t have seen it coming.” A brain aneurysm struck her down and led to her untimely death.

What I need to say is this, I had always been told that Life is short and not to squander the time you have with those you love. Truer words have never been spoken and, like many, I did not heed them until it was too late. I was fortunate in that I did have a chance to say goodbye before the event took her away. I was preparing to leave and take our Grandson to a park on what was to be a typical Saturday outing since our Grandson began to walk (or rather, run). We met in the kitchen and kissed goodbye in anticipation of my return with dinner and a movie that evening.

Thirty minutes later, I received a call from my daughter that her mother was in trouble and I needed to come home. That began a crazy series of events which only spanned two days until I had to decide my wife’s fate. An unreal moment I had never expected to have nor do I recommend anyone having to experience. With everyone looking on and hanging on my every word, I had to reach deep down and ask they discontinue her care. It was made clear to me she was never going to roll off that bed, walk out of there and return to her family. The flat lines of brain activity were glaring back at me with the ventilator and the beeping of her heart monitor the only other sounds beside my cracking voice. Her words just a couple of weeks before sustained me when I made the decision.

Inexplicably, we had discussed this very same thing over the news about another friend who was on life support in similar circumstances. Dianna said she was vehemently opposed to being a vegetable on a machine. She wanted me to end her suffering with the real possibility of her being that way for days, months or years. She had me promise. I did as she asked.

So understand how that affected me. Imagine watching the staff turn off life sustaining machines and resetting alarms screaming at me to turn things back on. It was all I could do to turn my head and leave her behind, my wife, my best friend and mother to our children. I felt, and still do, that I failed her, to protect her, to make things better. After all, that was my job, what I promised her when we wed. I felt very lost and suddenly alone.

She wanted to be cremated not buried under tons of dirt wasting away for some archeologists to find and analyze. She wanted to be part of the Earth she came from. We were never religious but Dianna was very spiritual and recognized she was part of something bigger. She wanted to return to the star dust we came from and would return to. She was an organ donor and was able to provide some hope for others through her donations. She would be comforted in the knowledge that her death meant something other than well wishes, her legacy preserved in others.

In deciding how and when to distribute her cremains (no, ashes are not the appropriate term it turns out), I thought a burial at sea was a good idea and my daughter, Nicole, suggested we do it on her birthday. I felt returning her to her place of birth on her birthday was a perfect idea so we organized some friends and a boat to deliver her home to San Diego, California.

It was a strange but comforting day as we made our way just outside San Diego Bay to send her on her way. The day began as cold and rainy. Southern California had been beset with turbulent weather that winter of 2018 and even as Spring beckoned in the new year, they had just had a layer of snow in late February dropped onto the County somewhat unexpectedly from a Pacific Storm (she would have liked that too).

We made our way to the boat a little dismayed we might not have fair weather for our two hours at sea but as we left the dock, the sky opened up and we were blessed with clear skies, bright sunlight and calm waters all the way into the ocean. Even the crew commented it was the first time they had seen Sun since December. The very next day, the sky closed up and returned to the cold and rain we had the day we arrived. We made our way passed the North Island breakwater and halted about a mile and a half south of the bay with a wonderful view of the city and Point Loma where her Mom, Audrey, is buried in the National Cemetery.

Finally Home

After a brief poem and prayer, we let her go into the ocean (LAT 39 degrees 39.754 N and 117 degrees 12.807 W, put it in Google Maps) she loved so much. When we met, she told me she had always wanted to be an Oceanographer. Her life took a turn after High School and she couldn’t afford to go to college to make that come true. But, on our trips together, she always preferred Aquariums to Museums and water-sports to bus tours. She would sit for hours (inevitably without sufficient sunscreen) at poolside reading or stroking her way around that pool. She loved the water and preferred the balcony of a cruise ship to an inside cabin so she could watch the ocean pass beneath her feet. I wanted her to have that in her afterlife as well.

Some have questioned our decision to cremate and distribute the remains. I realize the more traditional burial of remains is a more comforting thought. Here's my take, considering tidal flow, evaporation and rain, no matter where you go, there she is. It would please her no end to help irrigate a pretty flower or garden.

Returning to the harbor and enjoying a great lunch/memory meeting with our friends, I enlisted Nicole to help me with another secret mission. On almost every date, whenever we had some parent alone time after kids or whenever we could make it back to San Diego, Dianna and I would ride up La Jolla Scenic Drive to the  Mt. Soledad Cross and coolest Veterans Memorial on the planet and just sit and look out to sea. Up the coast was the iconic Scripps Pier she loved so much. I had retained a small amount of Dianna’s cremains and, while Nicole kept watch, I distributed them on the west face overlooking La Jolla Shores and the Pier. She now can sit and watch the world from her favorite vantage point forever.

Returning home was rather anticlimactic and I must say, life has not been the same. Of course, there are still Grandson sitting days, breakfast, lunch, dinner and movies with friends and family but its not the same as before. I find myself regaling her photo with my exploits and observations of people and things I have seen and done that day. But no retort (yeah, it would be weird if she answered).

I might mention, I have several regrets in my life with Dianna, I did not tell her I loved her enough, kissed her enough, hugged her enough, held her hand enough or told her how beautiful she was enough. I hold that as one of my failures in life…my advice, don’t make the same mistake with your loved ones. Make the change now. It’s never to late to start.

Frisco Home

When friends ask me to reflect on those terrible times, I tell them that I have gone through some major changes in the last six months that I never would never have anticipated. Though losing my wife has to be at the top of the list, it caused an avalanche of other life changing events as well.

Before all this, we had been seriously working on down-sizing. We were looking to retire when Dianna retired at 65 so we had put our ginormous 5 bedroom house in Frisco, Texas up for sale that July. After she passed, in the middle of December, I got a cash offer on the home but they stipulated I had to be out by the last day of December.

So the Grandson’s birthday and Christmas flew by without notice as Nicole and I scurried around looking for a replacement home for me. I found one in a new development just northwest of Frisco at the right price and willing to close by the end of December as I closed on my Frisco house. That led to another flurry of activity as I had to pack, store and move the contents of our home and set up the new place. I look back at that time and still don’t know how I was able to get it all done. I can only assume I had Devine intervention from somewhere (or someone). So many critical decisions, both financial and physical, made on the fly....I can only hope they ultimately prove to be good ones.

Life for the last six months has proven to be a series of highs and lows. I am now alone in my daily activities. Now, I know some of you out there may be alone by choice or circumstances and I'm not attempting to make light of that but being alone is not for me. I find myself alone in a crowd. I am a Class A people watcher and without a foil to make fun of some of the people I see, it really loses its impact.

Aubrey House

I have spent an inordinate amount of time tweaking and making subtle but substantive changes to my new house (I am told the devil finds work for idle hands to do). I spend time walking and talking to our two dogs, Marley and Jenna, and they too seem to be more attentive to me as well. I think my relationship with my house is not as it should be. After all, it was supposed to be Dianna’s house.

In our 45 years together, she had never lived in a brand new house and I wanted that for her. Thus, everything I do now, reflects what I believe she would have wanted done to make her home a nest. Yes, I enjoy the changes but, unlike every other new home owner, I haven’t come to terms with that new house smell and feel that one gets when you get handed the keys, enter, then close the door behind you. It’s not the same if you have no one to share it with.

The other constant you learn about when you’ve become recently widowed, is being single. I don’t mean in the romantic way but no longer being part of a couple. You learn quickly that the world is made for couples. It can be subtle or outright discriminatory but its always there. When you go to a restaurant, once they realize you’re by yourself, you get relegated to the counter seats or banished to the rear tables by the kitchen. After all, we are a pair-bonding species...I get that. Whether in advertising (“Hey little lady, you could be getting a massage while your husband is in the Casino gambling”) or even pricing for a cruise (there are only Double Occupancy rates, single people pay double if they go alone) single people are put on the back burner. Don’t get me started on the suggestion I check out the Seniors Only dating websites. Waaayyyy too soon for that.

Sleeping has become a problem as well. I have slept with an adult person just about every night for 45 years. Again, I’m not talking about the romantic stuff, I mean just having a reassuring presence there next to you. It provides a sense of not being alone. And conversation…. I have always come home to somebody since I was born. I lived with my parents until I met Dianna and lived with her almost two years before marrying her and for the next 43 years, I could say, “Hey, I’m home!” and someone would respond. Strangely, I tried this with Alexa who belted out three different welcoming responses (that is a sad commentary on life we face today, reassurance by a computer), who knew someone developed a “skill” for that. The dogs are still there, but other than their unflagging devotion, they haven’t mastered speech yet (and I’m not sure I’m ready for that either).

To show you how out of practice I am, (“touch” maybe a better term), the other day, I was waiting to enter a movie theatre when a mature woman (pretty sure she was single...no ring) walked up and asked me my opinion of a “Captain Marvel” (strong female role, not the original male character) T-shirt she was thinking about buying. I thought it was over-priced but nice. She asked what movie I was seeing, I told her (Wonder Park) and she thought that was a good movie too. Normally, I might have engaged her in the intricacies of my decision making for movie selection (basically anything I haven’t seen before, including remakes), but this time I just stopped talking. After an awkward silence, she just wandered off. On reflection, I’m not sure if she was hitting on me or just being nice to an old guy with a large popcorn and Coke (I could see her making that assumption....I was wearing one of my “Old Guys Rule” T-shirts). This is the state of affairs I find myself in. There is clearly no quick fix for this.

So I find myself trying to re-integrate myself into society. Dianna was famous for telling me, in bad times, to find my “happy place”….I’m just not sure where to look for it without her guidance. I have been told Baby Steps are the best approach, I have to think “Long Game” (why do people always make Sports references to serious personal issues?). After all, this could be me for a very long time. Let’s see what happens, shall we?

Back to Denton

It was our 43rd wedding anniversary. Yes friends...the big 4-3. Looking out over the landscape of years gone by, when you're considering navigating toward that illusive 44, you seek solace, perhaps a place to contemplate the future. Ok, we decided to take our anniversary weekend at an Alpaca Ranch. Knowing how much Dianna loves animals (well only the "cute" ones), I thought it would be a great break from the stresses of her mortgage job (and well....me).

I decided on the  Old Irish Bed and Breakfast in Denton, Texas. A stone’s throw, as it turned out, from our home in Frisco. Jim and Rita Patrick have assembled a menagerie of animals, not only Alpacas but also llamas, ducks, geese, chickens, dogs, frogs, turtles and fish. Yes, they have a rather unique "catch and release" pond right in the middle of their estate. Jim tells the story of how they came to buy the place. Bed and Breakfast aficionados, they had a particularly bad experience at a remote (I could hear the banjo playing in the background as he spoke) B&B and swore they could do better. Then, while driving locally off our US 380 heading into Denton, Jim got impatient with the backed-up traffic and turned right off the highway at an intersection hoping to get around the stoppage. Little did he know it was a dead end but once on the road they were presented with a for sale sign to what is now The Old Irish Bed and Breakfast - Wedding & Events Center @ Patrick's Pastures Alpaca Ranch in Denton, Texas.

Yep....Eco-Friendly

Jim and Rita decided to develop the land into an eco-friendly place where everything is recycled, he even has a Tesla electric charging station on the property. The lodging are five "tiny homes" if you will. Very modern with all the amenities except cooking stoves. We stayed in the Greystoke cabin. Jim saved the reason for the name until we got inside, seems Greystoke refers to a deceased favorite Alpaca who's pelt now hangs in his honor in the room. Ok...the website did say it was a little eclectic.

That's Greystoke on the wall

Also, there was the caveat on the website to discourage curmudgeons: "If you can't laugh, we're not the place for you. Sourpusses can go elsewhere; we'll even provide directions. Be sure to pack light, it may be a warm trip (LOL...a bit of Irish humor). WARNING: hypocrites, judgmental types, far-left or far-right super opinionated people, up-tight outta sight, frowny faces, blue-spoon, silk stocking, fru-fru types run away, quickly, please." They meant it. Jim will, at every turn, regale you with an off-color Irish joke and try to slip a little Irish Whiskey in your coffee (medicinal, of course). All that aside, it was a cool place to hang out.

That evening, we decided to head to the Denton Square for dinner. Our hosts recommended a new place, The Denton Grille and Bistro. Very modern vibe from the usual Denton crowd though being right smack in the middle of a college town (University of North Texas, Go Mean Green! and Texas Women’s University Go Pioneers!), a mix of American and Pakistani (who knew), Dianna and I had the Fusion Sampler to split. It was more than enough for two and had 5 meats and a sauce. A bit spicy for Dianna so she ate most of the Paratha bread, kind of like Naan bread. Very delicious.

To calm the fire in our mouths, we sauntered over to Beth Marie's Ice-cream Parlor. An old timey ice-cream shop with probably 100 flavors, some adult style with alcoholic beverages inside. It was hot in the square that night, probably 91 or so, the ice-cream really hit the spot.

The next morning, we walked to the dining area for breakfast. Jim and Rita make a pretty good spread of eggs, bacon, fruit, hash browns and sausage interspersed with Irish humor from Jim. The best part of B&Bs is the time around the table where you get to hear from those who are there, including the owners. Jim and Rita had both been from big business and decided to break out on their own. Unfortunately, the economic downturn hit them hard and dried up some of their savings. The bed and breakfast gave them a new start and a way to slow their pace down.....not so much. As I said, they are very busy with the Alpaca business and very involved in the community. Jim has some side lines including a Pod Cast/Blog with his partner, Steve Putney, called Men in the Middle.

Dianna loved all the animals and swooned in the Alpaca Experience the next morning where we got the full history of Alpacas which included the care and hand feeding of the beasts. I had been of the opinion (after numerous Animal Planet episodes) that Alpacas were mean and liked to spit on people. Jim said that wasn't true and they proved the point while we were there. Jim said the only time they spit is the females spit at each other as a "get off me, Bitch" response.

They are very docile and, well, cute. They hover and push each other aside while we fed them from our hands. Jim's property backs up to a nature preserve with all sorts of predators so he keeps an armada of Great White Pyrenees dogs in the enclosures as well as at least one Llama for protection. Apparently, Llamas get aggressive with bobcats and such when they're around.

Jim said there are 24 different colors of Alpacas and showed us some samples of Alpaca cloth which reminded me of satin. Much lighter than wool yet very warm when made into sweaters. Jim and Rita have become very active in the Alpaca Ranching business and, as a side line, mentor new owners and breeders providing advice on housing, feeding and production of Alpaca fur.

Brisket Burger

After learning about Alpacas, we made our first foray into Denton to meet our ever-traveling friends, Scott and Silvia at our favorite hamburger place, "Rooster's Roadhouse"  off the square. Brisket Burgers all around as we spent some good time catching up on family and travels. Silvia and Scott were former San Diego PD cops who we met long before their Law Enforcement careers when we attended Lamaze classes before the births of our kids (and got in trouble often for cutting up....I guess this whole birthing thing is considered serious business..who knew).

That night, we met our hosts at Bagheri's Italian Restaurant  on University Avenue in Denton. I mentioned my intense like of Italian cuisine and Jim suggested Bagheri's. I, of course, always order the Lasagna as my sterling test of an Italian Restaurant. Hey...if they can't make a decent Lasagna, they're not worth my time. I was not disappointed with a very dense and tomatoey, well baked mass of pasta and cheese. Dianna had the Angel Hair Pasta with chicken in a "Pink Sauce" combination of Alfredo and Tomato sauce. A great gastronomical experience.

We then made our way to the Denton Square with its awesome Courthouse. One of the most architecturally beautiful Courthouses in Texas. W. C. Dodson was commissioned to design the Romanesque style structure which ultimately cost the County of Denton $150,000, small by today’s standards but a sizeable chunk of change for the time.

Shelly

I had signed us up for the Ghosts of Denton haunted walking tour of the Square taken around by noted "Ghost Lady" Shelly. Shelly explained to us that the original plot of Denton Square was six lots on each side of the square which could be bought for $25 each. For many years the County Courthouse moved from place and the current site of the 1896 Courthouse was...well a dump. It was a dirt lot that people would cast aside stuff they didn’t need.

Little known fact....there's a dead guy buried on the Courthouse lot. Yes, John B. Denton , the town and County namesake, was reinterred there at the southeast corner. John died in 1841 after the Battle of Village Creek, the last known Indian attack on Texans in adjacent Tarrant County. Yep, that's right....way down by Arlington, nowhere near what's now the Denton County line. John was laid to rest in a makeshift grave near the river but was rediscovered and, in 1901, some folks decided John needed to be replanted in Denton, the town and County that took his name to honor his service in the Republic of Texas. So you can imagine his confusion at being in a place he never frequented in life. Thus he is occasionally seen in his long rider duster and breechloader rifle wandering the square trying to figure out how he got there.

The only really active place we went to is the old Opera House. Built in 1899 for $25,000, it was built from the bricks from the condemned 1870s Courthouse. Now a huge bookstore, Recycled Books and CDs, it once housed a very large auditorium. in the far back of the store was the stage which is now a second floor loaded with book shelves and books for sale. When it was the Opera House, an actor had committed suicide and died in that portion of the Theater. Since then, many spooky things have occurred to patrons and employees of the store. Worse yet, the owners decided to create loft apartments on the second floor above the bookstore. The owners have had a tough time doing remodels. Usually the crews don't come back after the first morning of work with tales of tools and other objects being flung about. The tenants have similar tales of weird occurrences and don’t usually stay long.

Shelly is obviously full of great tales of early Denton but the tour really suffered from the new upstairs patio restaurant/bar  LSA Burgers. The band was really cranked up and though they were on the south side of the square, even if you were on the north side with the Courthouse between you and the bar, the music was so loud, you couldn't hear yourself think. It kind of downgraded Shelly's talk and descriptions. But a tour well worth taking. It was still quite hot in the square and we were ready for another Beth Marie’s Ice cream.

Back to The Old Irish Bed and Breakfast for a good night’s sleep under the watchful eye of Greystoke (he kind of grows on you). Back then to home and hearth (and lawn maintenance). I would recommend the Old Irish Bed and Breakfast if you want to stay local or just want a little fun getaway....well and there's the cute Alpacas to pet.

Back to Oklahoma

In late April we decided to take another trip north to the land of the Chickasaw, southern Oklahoma and our friends, the Fortson’s. The trip is always scenic but lends itself better to a rather circumlocutious path (look THAT up Dale). Although one might choose the I-35, it’s much more fun to get off the beaten trail (and avoiding the many careening 18 wheelers) and drive to the backroad gems.

One such gem is the  Ole Red restaurant in downtown Tishomingo, Oklahoma. There singer Blake Shelton has built a cool restaurant/music venue on Main Street. There are two others, one in Nashville (of course) and Gatlinburg, Tennessee. It’s a neat little place named after the song “Ol’ Red”. Ol’ Red is a song written by James Bohan, Don Goodman and Mark Sherrill. Originally recorded by George Jones, Shelton did a version in his 2002 debut album and “The Voice” star credits it as his signature piece which had a significant impact on his career. Interestingly, nobody checked the spelling when they did the signs and menus.

Tishomingo as you may know, is the County Seat of Johnston County and was the Capitol of the Chickasaw Nation from 1856 to Statehood in 1907. It was named for Chief Tishomingo who died on the Trail of Tears in 1838. Prior to 1852, it was known as Good Springs because several springs flowed into the Pennington Creek nearby making the spot a good respite on the trail between Fort Washita and Fort Arbuckle.

Shelton was born in Ada, Oklahoma, a short distance north of Tishomingo, but Shelton has made it a point to invest heavily in this part of Oklahoma to improve the economy and lives of his fellow Oklahomans as evidenced by his charity Concerts after several tornados struck the area in the past few years.

Ole Red is one of those efforts. It is a classic music venue with several local and national acts having played there as well as Blake himself but he has also supported the surrounding shops to increase traffic and bring the tourists in. It certainly has spruced up the Main Street area and created many jobs for the locals.

The menu is well rounded with everything from Fried Green Tomatoes to great burgers and sandwiches to a Coffee-Crusted Pork Chop (I’m sure it’s delicious……). Dianna had the Basic Cheese Burger and I had The Bull.

We did leave room for the Ole Red Ice Cream Sandwich oversize cookie dessert embeded with Lucky Charms. The Lucky Charms thing has to do with a prank pulled on Blake when he was on Jimmy Fallon's show. Blake made the mistake of telling Jimmy that his favorite cereal when he was young was Lucky Charms. As a joke, Fallon ended up sending Blake numerous boxes of the cereal and it became a standing joke between the two. Of course, General Mills, the maker of Lucky Charms took on the idea as a new way of hawking their product and have also sent boxes of their cereal to like minded celebrities as well.

So, if you find yourself wandering around southern Oklahoma, cruising along U.S. 377, stop by Ole Red and catch lunch, dinner or a show.

Having filled our bellies, we continued north toward our destination, Shawnee, Oklahoma. We have been to Shawnee several times to stay the night while visiting our longtime friends the Fortsons. Gerry is now 84 years young and one of three surviving members of her High School graduating class. The town of Tecumseh, Oklahoma has not changed much since those days with a stable but withering population in Potawatomi County. The area was opened for settlement in 1891 as a result of the Land Rush into what were the reservations of the Sac and Fox, Kiowa, Kickapoo, Shawnee and the Potawatomi Indian Territories. The Nations still exist along with their gaming Casinos.

One of Gerry’s (and our) favorite things to do is take a short ride into Shawnee and get lunch at Hamburger King on E. Main Street. The old Main Street is making a come back with new store fronts and sidewalks with a few of the old stores, like Hamburger King, it’s anchors.

I love this place for several reasons, the first is the old fashioned (I can’t believe I’m using that term) style hamburgers and service. They still use the table phone ordering service dating back to the 50s (ok…1950s in case you didn’t know). All the food is made to order and the large patties and buns complete the package. Again…make room for a slice of their pies. We had the Classic Cheeseburger with the wedge fries and, of course, the pie. Never had a bad meal there.

Recalling that Gerry used to come there back in her High School days…..class of 1947 (the original building is now part of the Middle School campus), I asked her what she thinks about while she’s there. She says she always thinks back on those days and can still see her friends “cruising” down Main Street showing off their cars. She still imagines it as it once was, seeing the bustling street, busy shoppers and decorated store fronts of that earlier time. Her face brightens when she begins to relate a story of an old school field trip or war time recollection of her days in Tecumseh. It saddens me a little after hearing the stories. It’s a different thing to read stories in a book than to hear it in person. You can’t recreate the emotion or expressions of someone who can bring the past to life. Like many of the people I have met and written about, she too is a resource to the past we will unfortunately lose some day.

We only spent a couple of days in Oklahoma and only got to one County Courthouse we hadn’t been to. In Madill, Oklahoma, there is the Marshall County Courthouse and County Seat. The county was created at statehood in 1907 from the former Pickens County of the Chickasaw Nation. It was named to honor the maiden name of the mother of George Henshaw, a member of the 1906 Oklahoma Constitutional Convention.

We here in Frisco, Texas have a connection to Madill’s creation as a center of trade and commerce. Railroads came to the present-day Marshall County in 1901, when the St. Louis, Oklahoma and Southern Railway acquired shortly there after by the St. Louis and San Francisco Railway, known as the Frisco, constructed a north-south line. The following year, the St. Louis, San Francisco and New Orleans Railroad (formerly the Arkansas and Choctaw Railway) laid tracks from east to west through the area. This line was sold to the Frisco in 1907.

The Courthouse, built in the simple Capitol Style of that WWI era, has a recently erected War Memorial listing local residents who have died in support of our Nation. All the County Offices are able to be housed there for it's approximately 16,000 residents within its 427 square miles.

Among Marshall County’s famous sites are Fort Washita the former United States military post and National Historic Landmark located in Durant, Oklahoma. Established in 1842 by General (later President) Zachary Taylor to protect citizens of the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations from the Plains Indians. It was later abandoned by Federal forces at the beginning of the Civil War. Confederate troops held the post until the end of the war when they burned the remaining structures. It was never reoccupied by the United States military.

Whatever you’ve heard about Oklahoma (yes…tornados are a thing here), it is very scenic and though mostly flat, has some of the nicest vistas while driving (well...and there's the Arbuckle Fried Pie store in Arbuckle a convenient exit off the I-35). As well as the passing of the beautiful roadside wildflowers. We also need to get back to Oklahoma City soon. I learned they have recently completed a renovation of the Oklahoma City Bombing Museum and historic site. That will be a worthwhile trip as well.