Tribute to my Sister-in-Law-Barbara Reynolds Bassham

My Sister-in-Law passed away this past Sunday night July 10, 2011 after a long battle with colon cancer. We attended her Memorial services yesterday in Auburndale, Fl.

We can shed tears that Barbara is gone and we do

But, we can also smile because she has lived & touched our lives…

We can close our eyes and pray that she come back

Or we can open our eyes & see all that she has left

Our heart may be empty because we can’t see her

Or we can be full of the love & friendship we shared

We can turn our backs on tomorrow & live in yesterday

Or we can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

We can remember her & only that she is gone

Or we can cherish her memory & let it live on

We can cry & close our mind,

Be empty & turn our back

Or we can do what she would want:

Smile, open your eyes, love & go on

Barbara, We will miss you in our presence BUT

Cherish the comfort of knowing we will see you again

in heaven at our appointed time

AND we can be thankful, as far as we know, that there are “no politics” in heaven but even if there is, we can rest assured you will have already dealt with them by the time we get there.

Thank you Barbara for being such a wonderful wife to my brother, such a great daughter in law to my mother, and not only a blessed sister in law to Karen, Gene & me BUT even more so, I thank you for being that sister, I never had…

Barbara, I will miss you…I am so glad you were a part of my life!

By the way, say hello to Dad & let him know how we are doing!

So many positive traits come to mind when thinking of Barbara:

Passion

Conviction

Substance

Opinion

Talented

Engaging

Caring

Courage

Thanks Barbara for your inspiration

You will be missed but your Legacy will live on in the hearts and minds of those of us who knew you.

FAREWELL TO A DEAR LONGTIME FRIEND-Wonderful Legacy left behind!

This past week we attended a funeral service in Orlando. A dear longtime friend has departed this ole earth but the memory of him and the legacy he leaves behind will long be in my memory bank as it will be for the so many who knew him.I am confident Leo left a positive touch on those he encountered  throughout his 94 years. Even til the last day of his earthly existence, he always put forward an active "can do" effort never ceasing to give in to several types of cancer over the past several years. His ongoing attitude constantly looking to the future is a "true legacy" in itself. He was an avid golfer all his life even playing only two weeks prior to his final day. On his last day he had traveled a distance for a family event and upon returning home, he had backed his car into a narrow section of his garage (I still can't do that!). That evening while settled in to his favorite chair, watching TV, He went to sleep and woke up in heaven.
We all will miss you my dear friend. If you can somehow hear me, I just want to say "thank you" for touching so many lives and "thank you" for truly "LEAVING A LEGACY" in its truest form.
In favor to Leo, here is an Anonymous poem:
" Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am a diamond glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain,
When you wake in the morning hush;
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night,
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep."

-Anonymous

We will miss you, my friend!

Nostalgic Tidbit: It is funny how some of our likes and dislikes from an early age follow us throughout life. I have never tired of the taste of bread. In the 50’s, I only remember us having white bread all the time. Wheat  and rye bread existed, I think, but for our family it was white bread all the way. Think of all the bread choices we have nowadays…” It is now a bread lover’s paradise just when I shouldn’t eat so much of it”!

Chapter 17

My Epitaph

When I say I was a bread lover from the first taste, I

don’t mean that I was someone who really liked

bread…I loved it! I still do this very day. While

growing up in the 50’s, Mom and Dad would always

go grocery shopping on Saturday afternoons at the

Margaret Ann store in Winter Haven. The store was

later bought out by Winn Dixie. Anyway, they would

always buy a loaf or two of bread to last the week for

sandwiches, etc. Under normal circumstances, that

amount might be sufficient for three growing boys

BUT, one of them (Me)…felt he could live on bread

alone. 

We came up short on the bread supply well before the

week was over many times. I honestly could sit and eat

an entire loaf of bread along with a cola and be as

happy as possible. What can I say, I was a simple

child. Even today, my wife accuses me of that

sometimes! I even got creative and made mayonnaise

sandwiches, mustard sandwiches, ketchup sandwiches,

and my favorite of all, to this day…banana and

peanut butter sandwiches. Through the years, even as

an adult, I have continued to enjoy bread of every kind,

 from the tasteless hotdog buns to gourmet breads

freshly baked. I can always make a meal to enjoy with

bread alone.

Even at that early age, I established an identity as an

unusual bread lover. 

That identity follows me still. I have often told friends

that if I was on death row or on my death bed and had

one last request for food…guess what it would be?

I have teased my wife that whenever I depart this

world, I  want my epitaph to read: “He tried to live

on bread alone”.

Somehow, I doubt she will honor that request!

Time for me to stop writing…hot bread is coming out

of the oven.

Departing Challenge

There are so many other thoughts and stories I could

share with you but I will wait to do so in future

writings. As you have followed me down some early

memories of my life, it is my hope that you have been

stimulated to capture and make note of some of your

own reflections of the past. I encourage you to write

them down and then determine a format in which you

wish to memorialize to your family and friends. You

will be glad you did! I know your loved ones will

appreciate it beyond what any words can express.

We all have a legacy to leave…We all have a choice

as to how we will be remembered!

How  do   you   choose  

to  be

remembered?

Losing weight made easy-REPLAY of video I did after only 2 weeks.wmv

REFLECTIONS- "Growing up in the50's"- Chapter 16- Saturday Afternoon at the Movies

Nostalgia Tidbit : Going to the movies for the first time ever was  an amazing experience. It is something I will never forget. This time period was before anyone I knew had ever seen or even heard of a TV. The Big Screen became a great place to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Chapter 16

Saturday Afternoon at the Movies

In the early 50s, the downtown movie theater in

Auburndale was the only entertainment hotspot

around. The indoor theatre was called “The Auburn

Theatre” and the drive in theatre in town was  called

the “

Dale Drive

In”.     Get it? The Auburn and the Dale

were appropriate for a town called Auburndale. At the

time I thought that was really creative!

The first time I went to the movies, I can remember

being frightened to death once I saw the moving

picture on that big screen. I know it was a western

and a lot of loud shooting going on. I don’t recall the

name of the movie. 

All I know is I had my eyes closed and fingers

in my ears the whole time.

Keep in mind, seeing a moving picture for the first

time ever was a major experience. At that point, I had

never seen or even heard of a TV. Books and radio had

been it.

Finally, I adapted to the wonderful experience of

watching movies. Saturday afternoon’s became one of

the great highlights for the entire gang.

It was about a two mile walk to the downtown theatre

and we did it many times on Saturday afternoons over

the next several years. The cost of admission was 15

cents. 

You could sell three cola bottles and you had your

ticket to the movies.

Popcorn and candy were reasonable as well.

An afternoon at the movies always included a double

feature, a cartoon, and lots of previews. There may

have been some advertisement but I don’t remember

any. This was a super bargain for 15 cents.  You could

even stay and watch the re-runs as many times as you

wanted. We did many times!

Movies of that era were primarily westerns. I can

remember watching numerous horror films too. I came

a long way in a short time…from closing my eyes and

holding fingers in my ears to becoming a big horror

film lover. Two movies you may have never heard of

stand out in my mind…”The Creature from the Black

Lagoon”  and “The Hitchhicker.”

Nowadays, when we see the re-runs of a lot of the old

movies from that era, even the serious ones seem

almost like a comedy. Still, at the time it was great

entertainment for all of us who spent “Saturday

Afternoon at the Movies”.

REFLECTIONS- "Growing up in the 50's" Chapter 15- A Second Language

Nostalgia Tidbit : In Central Florida in the 50’s, we never heard anything about how important it was to learn a second language. Today, we all know how valuable it is in Florida as well as many areas of our country to understand Spanish. Our Hispanic population growth is tremendous and will continue at a steady pace. Back then, those of us who had learned another language thought we had “one up” on everybody else.

Chapter 15

A Second Language

(ig-pay   atin-lay)

To feel the need to learn a second language was not

even on my radar until some friends shared some

insight in to  a secretive way of verbally

communicating with each other so our parents and

strangers would have no idea what we were saying. It

was a language that even the name of it would make us

laugh.  “Pig Latin” was the new found method of

communication. Just in case you don’t know how Pig

Latin works, here you go.

The usual rules for changing English into Pig Latin are:

1.                        If a word begins with consonant sounds, move all the first consonant sounds to the end of the word and add “ay”. As follows:

bat     >  at-bay

door  >  oor-day

John  >  ohn-jay

2. For words that begin with vowel sounds (including silent consonants) you add the syllable “ay” to the end word. as follows:

I        >  I-ay

equal > equal-ay

honest> honest-ay (because the h is silent).

Anyway, you get the idea. We had our own second

language and probably felt it had been invented within

our own little group of friends. It was most fun to use

around the adults because we felt there was no way

they could ever know what we were saying. 

One day, a good buddy  and I were at the corner store 

and we went into our “second language” mode just to

test it out. “red-Fay    is-ay    uper-say  tupid-say 

which translates in to a not very nice “Fred is super

stupid.”

Fred looked at us with a sign of shock on his face. We

 laughed because we knew we had done it on our first

try…puzzled an adult with our second language.

After a moment, Fred replied. “ ou-yay    are-ya   ot-

nay  ooling-fay  e-may  which means (You are not

fooling me.)

We had to think about what he said for a moment to

decipher what he had actually said. 

At this point we had spent so much time learning to

speak Pig Latin that we had not perfected listening and

understanding…BUT…we got it! He was on to us!

Apparently this new second language of ours was more

widespread that we had known. After that lesson, we

tried to stay away from saying anything negative but

did enjoy being able to speak a language that most

others, especially adults, did not understand.

Even to this day “Pig Latin” works very well if you are

in a foreign country and need to stay away from

English. You will confuse the heck out of any rude

foreigners who know how to speak English. Try it!

 Also, if you are ever asked on a job application if you

speak a second language”? You can check “yes”! Ig-

pay   atin-lay.

I double dog dare you! You won’t get the job, but what

an interesting reaction you will receive!                                

 UST-JAY  OKING-JAY !

Did you get it?

Just a funny side note: While writing this story my PC “spell check” went crazy…..maybe one day even our computers will recognize Pig Latin!

REFLECTIONS "Growing up in the 50's" CHAPTER 14- That's Cool

Nostalgia Tidbit : In the 50s there was no air conditioning in the home or car, at least none that we knew about, so you cooled off  as creatively as you could.

                                                                         Chapter 14

 That’s Cool

On a hot summer day in Central Florida in the 1950’s I

can remember how creative we tried to be in finding  

ways to cool off. With no air conditioning in the home

or in the car, it was a challenge. You couldn’t even go

to the Mall to cool down because they didn’t exist. I

don’t remember any stores even having A/C either.

Perhaps they had some big circulating fans that stirred

the hot air.

Still, hot is hot!

Luckily, we had a lake about a mile away, so we often

walked or rode our bikes over to take a dip.

 Back then, you actually felt comfortable swimming in

a fresh water lake with never a thought of gators,

snakes, amoebas and slime. I’m sure they were present

but it never crossed our minds.

.

We were too busy “cooling off”. Some creative ways

to cool off were to ride in the car “fast” with windows

down and hanging out up to the waist. That had a little

numbing effect as well. Standing in front of the

refrigerator with the door open worked nicely but we

could only get away with that for very short periods of

time. Sometimes, I would even think if I rode my bike

fast enough or ran fast enough, I could create a cool

breeze. Of course, that back fired on me.

Finally, one summer day, this wonderful appliance

became a part of our household. It was an electric fan.

While it wasn’t a monster of a fan, it was nevertheless

“a fan”! It was actually pretty small with a

circumference of about twelve inches. Still, it stirred

up the air in the living room. Circulating hot air is still

better than stale hot air.

I can still see us on a hot night with Dad lying on the

couch, Mom sitting in the chair and the three of us on

the floor as close to the fan’s breeze as possible

soaking up every moment of semi-coolness. I’m sure

we were often blocking the air flow to Mom and Dad

but I really don’t remember them

complaining….maybe they did. Selective memory is

good at times. 

It was still many years before we were able to

experience the wonder of air conditioning. I do know

that even while in high school in the early 60’s, my

school was not air conditioned. As I recall, I think we

had that fan for many years.

As we fast forward to nowadays, I must leave my

air conditioned house to get in my air conditioned car

to go to the air conditioned grocery store and then off

to the air conditioned mall.

Wow, it sure is hot outside!

REFLECTIONS "Growing up in the 50's-Chapter 13- Touch of the Toe

Nostalgia Tidbit: Since I was 9 years old, I had always wanted to play little league football, but each year, prior to the pre-season draft I could never get my weight up to the minimum weight requirement which was 85 lbs. The weight range was from 85-115lbs.

Chapter 13

Touch of the Toe

Finally in 1959 at 12 years old my weight came within

range to qualify to play little league football. This was

the last year I would be eligible to play. I barely hit the

85 lb mark but felt I was close enough. I was a little

shrimp, wasn’t I?

Anyway, the day finally came when all would try to  

qualify. We had two teams in Auburndale. One was

sponsored by Publix Supermarkets and the other was

sponsored by a local business called Killebrews.

Publix wore green and white and Killebrew’s wore red

and white.

We had to do some basic workout events such as speed

running and catching the ball on the run.

 All the coaches were observing with the demeanor of

what I thought to be professional coaches. As you

might suspect with me being so small, I was fast! I did

catch their attention and did get drafted by the

Killebrew Killers! A couple of former Auburndale

High School players would be our coaches. They were

great high school players only the year before. This

would be a treat to learn from a couple of guys I really

looked up to.

Over the next couple of weeks, practice went well. I

was primarily at a running back position on offense

and defensive back on the defensive side of the ball. 

Overall, I felt pretty good about the way things were

developing.

Finally, came the night of our first game. I was filled

with butterflies and excitement …until…in the locker

room, one of the officials told us to step up to the

weigh in “one by one”.

 My heart was in my throat as I stepped onto the

scales. 79 pounds registered! How could I only

weigh 79 pounds? After all, I was 12 years old!

Anyway, I spent the whole night sitting on the

sidelines ineligible to play that night. How

disappointing.

The following week I practiced harder than ever

determined to impress the coaches to the point of  

making them forget about the weight issue.

After all, I could have better understood if I was in

excess of the maximum weight…I might hurt

someone…but as small as I was, they didn’t have to

worry about me really hurting anyone. Of course, I was

not worried about getting hurt. After all, I had two

older brothers who had broken me in when it came

to toughness.

During that week of practice, I was impressive. I ran

through defender after defender dodging and darting

and utilizing all that quickness and speed I was blessed

with. Speed was as critical in those days as now,

perhaps even more so, because there were a lot of

single and double reverses run in the backfield and

even on most kickoff returns. I was quick! As small as

I was I had better be quick or get smashed!

Game day was here again. From here on out, the

coaches had to conduct the weigh ins and record such.

When I stepped on the scales this time it was amazing

that in one week I had gained enough to qualify!

 I never did know whose toe was pressing on that

scale but it was pressing hard enough to add about 5

pounds to my weight. All teammates and coaches were

gathered so closely I couldn’t tell.     

All I know is there was a cheer once I stepped off the

scale. It appeared that “Rules are made to be

Broken”…not a very good testimony to my grand kids

one day but at the time it seemed like justice.

That night, we won the game by a big margin. I was

tackling people on all points of the field. It was so

invigorating to be a part of the team. 

By the way, on the first ball handed off to me in the

backfield, I ran  untouched for a 60 yard Touchdown.

It was the highlight of my football career. I never

played another season after that. I was always so small

throughout high school; I had to stick with basketball,

baseball and track.

I never had to weigh- in the remainder of that season.

Were rules made to be broken?

As perfect as memory tries to make the 50s era, I guess

we weren’t so perfect after all! I still wonder whose toe

rescued me and gave me the chance for that great

memory of being able to play the game. Whoever you

were…if by some chance you read this story, please let

me know. My football career was saved by

 “The Touch of the Toe”.

REFLECTIONS "Growing up in the 50's" -Chapter 12- Keep it Quiet

Nostalgia Tidbit: The house I grew up in was a 2BR, 1 Bath with a Living Room and a Kitchen. We had a very small back porch and a larger front porch. Total square footage was probably 1000sf. You can imagine that with the five of us (my two Brothers and Mom & Dad) things got a little tight at times. Mom and Dad always went to bed real early and the three of us usually got to stay up a little later and watch TV….under certain conditions, of course.

                                                                       Chapter 12

Keep it Quiet

Mom and Dad were always early to bed and early to

rise. Even though in later years Dad had trouble

hearing, back then I think he could hear “a pin drop on

the grass” from two blocks away.

Usually when Mom and Dad went to bed around 8

o’clock, my two older brothers and I were allowed to

stay up until 9 o’clock on school nights. We had to be

in bed as quickly after 9 as possible. The one

requirement was that the TV must be turned down low

so as not to disturb Dad’s sleep. 

Keep in mind,  we are in a two bedroom/one bath

house. There was probably only about 20 feet that

separated  the TV from Mom and Dad’s bedroom door.

Remember Dad is the guy who could hear a “pin drop  

on the grass”!

 Also, keep in mind, the only speaker was small and it

was on the TV…..no surround sound back then!

It had to be a sight to see with three boys huddled as

closely as could be in front of the TV….so close it was

hard  to see the picture. I know we all learned to read

lips  because the sound was so low. I am sure this

experience  is what made me such a “good listener”

later  in life. If you don’t believe me, ask my

wife…On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t ask

her. Oops, it is 9pm…early to bed and early to rise and don’t let the “sound bug bite”.

REFLECTIONS- "Growing up in the 50's" -Chapter 11- Comfort Zone

Nostalgia Tidbit: I would think we all have certain memories that brought an element of comfort to us when we were kids. I was so blessed to have such great parents and two fantastic brothers help solidify many of the comforts I enjoyed. To this day there are still so many memories that come to my mind in a refreshing way.

                                  Chapter 11

               Comfort Zone

Mom and Dad always got up around 5:00am. The

smell of coffee perking on the stove (remember there

were no coffee makers) was always a

welcome and soothing smell. On a school day, it also

meant I could roll back over and sleep another hour.

The smell of coffee brewing was and always has been

one of my most favorite odors. Still, to this day, the

smell of coffee brewing gives me a feeling of comfort

and often triggers the reflection of that comfort zone in

which I was allowed to grow up.                      

Growing up in Central Florida opened the door for

another “comfort smell”….orange blossoms! 

Nowadays, there are fewer and fewer orange groves in

Florida, so the opportunity to detect the orange

blossom odor is less likely. Still, the thought of that

sweet smell in the air hangs in my memory .

One other odor was the smell of citrus pulp. I grew up

near two large citrus plants. When the “juice” plants

were in their high production season, the citrus pulp

smell filled the air……pollution at its best before most

folks knew what pollution was. To me, that odor had

an effect similar to the smell of smoke coming from a  

fireplace on a winter’s day. It is a smell that is difficult  

to describe. I liked it….it brought comfort! I must

admit however, that most folks exposed to the citrus

pulp odor probably would not find any comfort or

appreciation in it.

I did.

REFLECTIONS "Growing up in the 50s" Chapter 10- Full Speed Ahead

Nostalgia Tidbit

There were a lot of makeshift bikes around our neighborhood.

 I never had a new bike as a kid or teenager. Still we always found

 a way to have a bike of some kind. After riding,you just left it in

your yard with never a worry about someone stealing it. Try that

 this day and time! I probably never rode it more than a mile from

 the house…never mind those 30 mile bike rides we go on nowadays.

 

Chapter 10-   Full Speed Ahead

Learning to ride a bicycle was a trying experience for

me. Luckily, I had my two older brothers patient

enough to go to extremes to help me learn. First of all,

any and all bicycles we ever had were hybrid models.

Here a part and there a part and shazam, we had a

complete bike.

Two of the most difficult things for me to perfect were

getting on the bike mainly because I was so small and

the other was using the brakes.

 

Once I got on it and got going, all I wanted to do was

pedal for all I was worth…”Full Speed Ahead”! It

didn’t take long before I mastered the “getting on the

bike”. I learned I could get on the front porch, which

was about two feet high, and saddle the bike fairly

easily.

Where I had difficulty was when I had to pick myself

up off the ground after falling and there was no porch

nearby. Sometimes I would actually climb on the front

of a car…anybody’s car…and saddle the bike from

that elevation. Stopping was a whole story in

itself. Remember, in 1953 most bikes, if not all, did not

have brakes or gear shifts on the handle bars. The

brakes were only effective when you reversed the

forward pedal motion in order to apply enough

pressure to stop the wheels from turning.

 

I would pedal and pedal, but when it came time to stop,

I just could not for the life of me press the brakes. As

you might imagine, I found a lot of creative ways to

stop. There were a number of cars in the neighborhood

that had dents and scratches as well as my bike tire

prints to support the fact that I was guilty as charged. It

was great in those days, people didn’t care if you used

their car as a method of stopping, they just teased me

about it.

I was smart enough, however, that I never used a

moving car as a stopping post. I had a lot of other more

creative ways to stop including jumping off the bike

while in full flight. It hurt, but it worked. Usually the

bike continued for awhile with a mind of its own

eventually finding a way to stop.

 

I remember one time racing with a couple of buddies

and in order to stop I used a curve. Actually, I didn’t

make the curve but used the rough “off road”

experience to stop me. I can still feel the bark of that

tree being peeled off my face and elbows. Finally my

two brothers decided enough is enough! The need to

teach “little brother” how to use those brakes was long

overdue. Our dead end street was probably about 100

yards long from top to bottom. My brothers positioned

themselves with one at the top of the street which

would be my starting point and the other at the bottom

of the street which would be known as the “finish line”

or hopefully…the place in which I would successfully

utilize my brakes for a proper STOP!

 

This experience had to be one of the most exhilarating

experiences of my life to that point….ok, give me a

break…I lived in Auburndale, Florida in 1953..not a

lot going on for a 6 year old, ok? Anyway, my brother

at the top of the street assisted me in mounting the bike

while my other brother stood at the other end to help

stop me in the event I didn’t brake properly. I began

pedaling faster and faster. You can really build up

some speed within 100 yards when all you do is pedal

faster and faster. I did!

I can still see my brother’s eyes as I approached the

end of the street as he is yelling…”HIT THE

BRAKES…HIT THE BRAKES…All I could do was

pedal forward faster and faster! Finally as I was near

the end, my brother reached out and grabbed my

handle bars….the bike stopped!

 

I still have scars in some delicate places that remind

me of that day. Still, the memory that stems from that

day is not the scars and the fright of not being able to

stop, but the warm memory of the fact that I had two

brothers who cared about their little brother.

Eventually, I learned to “stop on a dime”..or at least in

a reasonable amount of time! My next transportation

challenge years later would be mastering the

automobile. Stopping wasn’t the problem…keeping it

between the lines was. That is another story for another

day.

“Full Speed Ahead”!

I didn’t!

: