This post is part of the A to Z Challenge for Genealogy Bloggers.
I live in Florida, which means there are beaches within driving distance (30 to 50 miles). I grew up accustomed to going to the beach in the summer, with family or friends. My sister and brother did, too. One day, my sister got into some belated trouble for that.
My mother was a widow, and we moved back to Jacksonville from California after my father died, so my mother could be near her mom and sister. We had a 1951 Packard. My sister would borrow the car from time to time for excursions with her friends. When she went to the beach, my mother told her not to drive the car on the beach, because that leads to corrosion. Salt water is not good for cars, and the sand at the beach was full of salt water.
One day my sister took her friends to the beach. She had taken some pictures there that day. A week or so later, she went to the drug store to pick up her pictures, and brought them home. Without thinking, she showed the pictures to Mom. There was the Packard, sitting right on the hard-packed wet beach sand.
My sister was grounded.
I learned that lesson. When my friends and I went to the beach in my Mom's car, by that time a 1965 Plymouth Valiant, I parked in the parking lot and we walked down to the beach! I got into the habit over a couple summers of taking two friends, Sharon and Sandy, to the beach in Mom's car. We had a great time, talking all the while, during the ride to the beach, at the beach, and coming home from the beach.
I was a member of our church's Episcopal Young Churchmen youth group. One afternoon, we had a beach party. My best friend Ellen and I were sitting on a towel on the beach, having a great time. A seagull flew overhead and opened the bomb bay doors. "Eww!" we screamed, as we scrambled to the water to wash ourselves off. That was one of the less pleasant beach moments I had.
Another unpleasant beach moment was sunburn. That was in the days before sunscreen, when the habit was to slather oneself with sun tan oil, which actually exacerbated the burn. I learned how painful sunburn could be, and peeling was unpleasant, too.
The last time I went to the beach was with my husband. He was a computer programmer in civil service, working for the Navy Department at Naval Air Station Jacksonville, Florida. There was a weekend conference he was going to attend at Naval Station Mayport, which is about a 100-mile round trip from where we live. I suggested that, rather than make that 100-mile round trip both days, he just stay at the Navy Lodge out there. I also suggested that he take me along. I could amuse myself during the times he was in the conference, and we could spend the rest of the time together. He thought that was a fine idea.
It was fun. I took a book to read while he was in the conference. However, there was one aspect of the trip that was decidedly unpleasant for me. I do not like a too-hard mattress. He loves his mattress to be hard. The mattress at the Navy Lodge must have been inspired by the soldiers' accommodations at the Castillo de San Marcos, the ancient coquina fortress in St. Augustine, Florida. That "bed" in the fort is a replica, and it is literally a wooden table. That's how hard that mattress felt to me. I slept sitting up in the easy chair in the room.
But the most pleasant part of the trip was an evening walk on the beach. It was downright romantic.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
A is for Arden
This post is part of the A to Z Challenge for genealogy bloggers. I'm catching up today, because I got a little bit of a late start on this. This is a Facebook group, so you'll have to log in to Facebook to find out more about it, if you'd like to.
Arden is a name that has been in my extended paternal family for four generations now. My father was the first. His parents, Walter Heatherington Packard and Elizabeth Jane (Reynolds) Packard could not decide on a name, as the story goes. Walter put on the birth certificate "Walter Heatherington Packard, Jr." but grandma Elizabeth ("Betty") put her foot down. One Walter Heatherington Packard in the family was quite enough, she said. They could not come to an agreement on a name, so for the interim, they did agree to put Arden on the birth certificate. They chose that name as a stopgap, because grandfather Walter worked as the supervisor at the Arden Dairy in Los Angeles at the time.
They never did come up with another name, so my father was Arden Packard. He had no middle name, probably because that, too, had been set aside for a while during the time grandma and grandpa Packard were supposed to be agreeing on a name!
My brother was Arden Packard II, but was called "Ned." That nickname came from a Naval Academy classmate of my father's who was killed at Pearl Harbor, Edward Worthington, who was called "Ned." My brother died in 1996.
Various grandchildren and now great-grandchildren in the family have Arden either as a given name or a middle name, preserving the legacy of my father, who died in 1954. One of these new little Ardens is a girl, and the name fits for both girls and boys. I have to say that it touches me that my cousins and others in the family have seen fit to preserve that legacy, my father and brother apparently having made quite an impression on them.
Arden is a name that has been in my extended paternal family for four generations now. My father was the first. His parents, Walter Heatherington Packard and Elizabeth Jane (Reynolds) Packard could not decide on a name, as the story goes. Walter put on the birth certificate "Walter Heatherington Packard, Jr." but grandma Elizabeth ("Betty") put her foot down. One Walter Heatherington Packard in the family was quite enough, she said. They could not come to an agreement on a name, so for the interim, they did agree to put Arden on the birth certificate. They chose that name as a stopgap, because grandfather Walter worked as the supervisor at the Arden Dairy in Los Angeles at the time.
They never did come up with another name, so my father was Arden Packard. He had no middle name, probably because that, too, had been set aside for a while during the time grandma and grandpa Packard were supposed to be agreeing on a name!
My brother was Arden Packard II, but was called "Ned." That nickname came from a Naval Academy classmate of my father's who was killed at Pearl Harbor, Edward Worthington, who was called "Ned." My brother died in 1996.
Various grandchildren and now great-grandchildren in the family have Arden either as a given name or a middle name, preserving the legacy of my father, who died in 1954. One of these new little Ardens is a girl, and the name fits for both girls and boys. I have to say that it touches me that my cousins and others in the family have seen fit to preserve that legacy, my father and brother apparently having made quite an impression on them.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Saturday, October 10, 2015
My friend, James MacArthur
According to Thomas MacEntee's weekly Geneabloggers list of blogging prompts, today is the anniversary of the birth of Helen Hayes, called the First Lady of the American Theater.
I never met her, but I did have the distinct pleasure of meeting and becoming friends with her son, James MacArthur.
I was a "Hawaii Five-0" fan, but liked James MacArthur for years before that, when he was a teenager, starring in such films as The Light in the Forest. I was in elementary school when that film came out.
I wrote a book on the television series "Hawaii Five-0," the original one that aired between 1968 and 1980, with Jack Lord and James MacArthur. I attended a "Five-0" convention in 1996 that began in Burbank, California, and ended in Honolulu. That is where I met Jim.
I talked with Jim a few times, and also had conversations with Kam Fong and his son Dennis Chun, and other cast members such as Herman Wedemeyer (who was just as handsome in 1996 as he had been earlier, during the run of the show) and Doug Mossman. It was a grand time.
Jim MacArthur was a down-to-earth guy. He did not have a pretentious bone in his body, though he very well could have, considering the society he grew up in. He was open, friendly, and funny. And I think I got on his good side when another fan was gushing to him about how "sensitive" and other such adjectives Danny Williams, his character in "Hawaii Five-0," was. I was getting a little gagged myself by the other fan's gloppy sentiment, so in the middle of her litany of adjectives, I inserted, ". . . and sarcastic," and caused Jim nearly to lose his footing and stumble. He laughed out loud. And it was the truth -- one of Danny Williams's most endearing traits in the show, to me, was his sarcasm.
I think that is how we became friends.
I also ran a fan organization for the show. The next year, in 1997, when my book on the series was published, I got a communication through my publisher from Jim, who wanted me to autograph some twenty copies of my book, which he was going to give out as a "thank you"gift to people who had made substantial contributions to a charity he favored. Of course, I was delighted to do so! The publisher shipped the books to me, I inscribed and signed them as Jim had requested and specified, and then I shipped the books to him.
That was a real thrill!
Every now and then, I would receive an e-mail from him. On one occasion, he mentioned that he had read a book which affected him deeply, Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels, which was also the book that inspired Ken Burns to make his seminal documentary, The Civil War.
I had a story to tell him. I attended Florida State University from 1965 to 1970, receiving a bachelor's degree in government, and a master's in library science. An American literature course I took as an undergrad was taught by Michael Shaara, long before he wrote The Killer Angels. He had not found the powerful voice that infuses that novel. In fact, he had just published his first novel, The Broken Place. It was not at all as polished -- or as good -- as The Killer Angels, which won a Pulitzer Prize. The earlier book's style was terribly derivative of Ernest Hemingway, whom Professor Shaara admired greatly.
In fact, he had had the opportunity to meet and drink with Hemingway one evening, when the famous writer happened to be in Tallahassee, where FSU is located. Tallahassee in the 1960s was still a rather sleepy little town which happened to have, plunked down in its southern small-town midst, Florida's state capital and one of the largest of its state universities. It was an interesting place in those days -- as long as you weren't poor or black or otherwise marginalized.
So Michael Shaara got to sit and drink and schmooz with Papa Hemingway, and said that when he finally struggled home in the wee hours, three sheets to the wind for having done his best to keep up with Hemingway, he had some explaining to do to his wife.
In the same e-mail in which I told Jim this story about Michael Shaara, I recomended two books written by his son Jeff, which continued the Civil War saga. These are Gods and Generals (which was made into a movie), and The Last Full Measure. They are as good as the original story, I told Jim.
What is the point of all this? I guess the point is that we sometimes have a chance to meet people we never imagine we could meet and talk with. Before 1996, I never though I'd talk to, never mind exchange friendly e-mails with, James MacArthur or any other movie and TV star. And Michael Shaara, before that evening in Tallahassee, probably had no clue that he would ever meet, talk to, and drink with Ernest Hemingway.
These once-in-a-lifetime opportunities make for great family stories!
I never met her, but I did have the distinct pleasure of meeting and becoming friends with her son, James MacArthur.
I was a "Hawaii Five-0" fan, but liked James MacArthur for years before that, when he was a teenager, starring in such films as The Light in the Forest. I was in elementary school when that film came out.
I wrote a book on the television series "Hawaii Five-0," the original one that aired between 1968 and 1980, with Jack Lord and James MacArthur. I attended a "Five-0" convention in 1996 that began in Burbank, California, and ended in Honolulu. That is where I met Jim.
I talked with Jim a few times, and also had conversations with Kam Fong and his son Dennis Chun, and other cast members such as Herman Wedemeyer (who was just as handsome in 1996 as he had been earlier, during the run of the show) and Doug Mossman. It was a grand time.
Jim MacArthur was a down-to-earth guy. He did not have a pretentious bone in his body, though he very well could have, considering the society he grew up in. He was open, friendly, and funny. And I think I got on his good side when another fan was gushing to him about how "sensitive" and other such adjectives Danny Williams, his character in "Hawaii Five-0," was. I was getting a little gagged myself by the other fan's gloppy sentiment, so in the middle of her litany of adjectives, I inserted, ". . . and sarcastic," and caused Jim nearly to lose his footing and stumble. He laughed out loud. And it was the truth -- one of Danny Williams's most endearing traits in the show, to me, was his sarcasm.
I think that is how we became friends.
I also ran a fan organization for the show. The next year, in 1997, when my book on the series was published, I got a communication through my publisher from Jim, who wanted me to autograph some twenty copies of my book, which he was going to give out as a "thank you"gift to people who had made substantial contributions to a charity he favored. Of course, I was delighted to do so! The publisher shipped the books to me, I inscribed and signed them as Jim had requested and specified, and then I shipped the books to him.
That was a real thrill!
Every now and then, I would receive an e-mail from him. On one occasion, he mentioned that he had read a book which affected him deeply, Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels, which was also the book that inspired Ken Burns to make his seminal documentary, The Civil War.
I had a story to tell him. I attended Florida State University from 1965 to 1970, receiving a bachelor's degree in government, and a master's in library science. An American literature course I took as an undergrad was taught by Michael Shaara, long before he wrote The Killer Angels. He had not found the powerful voice that infuses that novel. In fact, he had just published his first novel, The Broken Place. It was not at all as polished -- or as good -- as The Killer Angels, which won a Pulitzer Prize. The earlier book's style was terribly derivative of Ernest Hemingway, whom Professor Shaara admired greatly.
In fact, he had had the opportunity to meet and drink with Hemingway one evening, when the famous writer happened to be in Tallahassee, where FSU is located. Tallahassee in the 1960s was still a rather sleepy little town which happened to have, plunked down in its southern small-town midst, Florida's state capital and one of the largest of its state universities. It was an interesting place in those days -- as long as you weren't poor or black or otherwise marginalized.
So Michael Shaara got to sit and drink and schmooz with Papa Hemingway, and said that when he finally struggled home in the wee hours, three sheets to the wind for having done his best to keep up with Hemingway, he had some explaining to do to his wife.
In the same e-mail in which I told Jim this story about Michael Shaara, I recomended two books written by his son Jeff, which continued the Civil War saga. These are Gods and Generals (which was made into a movie), and The Last Full Measure. They are as good as the original story, I told Jim.
What is the point of all this? I guess the point is that we sometimes have a chance to meet people we never imagine we could meet and talk with. Before 1996, I never though I'd talk to, never mind exchange friendly e-mails with, James MacArthur or any other movie and TV star. And Michael Shaara, before that evening in Tallahassee, probably had no clue that he would ever meet, talk to, and drink with Ernest Hemingway.
These once-in-a-lifetime opportunities make for great family stories!
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