Tweeten Eldercare

Holidays Gone By

2011-11-27T19:06:00.000-08:00

Growing up in Sweden, with Alice Alfonso

Alice Alfonso was born Ellen Maria Alice Wallin in Arvika, Sweden near the Norwegian border, and lived in the neighboring farming village of Speked through secondary school. Her grandfather, and then father, ran the local newspaper, the Arvika News, while her mother managed the small farm where she was raised. Her parents seemed to have worked out a pact, blending city and country life. Her father always wore a suit and tie, except when walking in the woods (he took off his suit coat and tie on those occasions), which became a welcome Sunday afternoon tradition. Her mother worked the farm with their four cows, chickens, and sheep, although she always seemed to have her head in a book when she wasn’t milking a cow!

Alice’s first school experience was a one room school house with 15 children in grades 1-5 (there was only one other student in her first grade class). She discovered that you can learn a lot more in this setting than in a more traditional setting, since the younger children don’t “shut off their ears” when the teacher is teaching astronomy to older students, for example. The teaching method must have worked, because she passed her middle school entrance exam with flying colors!

The children walked several miles to grade school each way, including the snowy winter months. A rare winter treat was skiing to school if the road hadn’t been sanded yet, and they biked to school when the weather permitted. Speaking of bikes, Alice recounted her “painful” experience of learning to ride a bike, when her brother Allan let go of the bike as she descended down their sloping driveway, and she toppled over at the end of the driveway into her mother’s flower bed. She remembered her mother’s disapproval more than the battle scars!

Winter holiday traditions included Advent, the celebration of Saint Lucia, and Christmas. Advent, which marks the beginning of the Christmas season, begins four Sundays before Christmas. The merchants in Arvika would cover their display windows with sheets the Saturday before Advent and surprise the public with holiday wares that Sunday. Families would then walk the streets on Sunday, admiring the merchandise (while the boys and girls admired one another!)

On December 13, the Swedish celebrate Saint Lucia’s Day, the patron saint of light. December 13 also marks the beginning of Winter Solstice according to Swedish folklore. According to legend, Lucia was a brave young woman from the island of Sicily. Lucia, who died a martyr’s death, was widely admired for her courage, generosity and faith, and the Vikings carried the story back with them to Scandinavia.

To honor this Swedish tradition in Alice’s community, the eldest daughter of the house would make coffee, bake pastry (Lucia Buns), and sing the song of St. Lucia for her family that morning (and later, for teachers), honoring the ritual of bringing food during a famine. There was also a pageant along city streets, with a chosen Lucia wearing a white robe, red ribbons, and a candle crown on her head.

As for the Christmas tree, the Wallin family tradition was to cut down a tree before Christmas from their woods, but not until December 23. It was a tricky selection process, particularly if it had been snowing, because it was important to find a tree with straight branches to hold the candles (no, they did not have electric tree lights). Alice’s father was particularly gifted in finding just the right tree, and they never burned down the house!

Christmas presents were collected in one room and opened on Christmas Eve. If you were “very good,” Santa Claus might arrive in person to distribute gifts. On Christmas Day, community members went to church service in the morning when it was still dark outside. The church driveway was lighted with torches, and candles would illuminate the nearby gravestones to remember their dead. The lights were magical! Church services were followed by a hearty Christmas dinner.

Eighty four years and thousands of miles have separated Alice from her Swedish beginning. She moved to Chicago (where her mother’s cousin lived) in 1949 to “learn English” and unexpectedly fell in love and married an American, Robert Alman, less than a year later. Alice and Robert raised their three sons in a Chicago suburb before moving to rural Wisconsin, and Alice came to Santa Rosa after her husband passed to be near her son Bob and his family.

Today, you can find Alice ballroom dancing at the Santa Rosa Finley Center and other venues, three (or more) times per week. She has an energy and enthusiasm for life to be admired at any age.

May you find magic in your own holiday traditions!

In Honor of Veteran's Day... Proud to be of Service

2011-11-27T19:00:00.000-08:00

An interview with Carl Ordwar of Santa Rosa

As Veteran's Day approaches, I chose to seek out a career veteran for my November column. Someone who served our country in times of both war and peacetime. Carl Ordwar, who was born in 1925, is a retired career Army veteran who represents these veterans: drafted at age 18, served in the Philippines during WWII, joined the National Guard a few years after returning to the mainland, served again in combat during the Korean War, and worked with civilian components after the war.

By the time Carl served in Korea, his perspective had changed significantly. First, he was older and wiser, and second, instead of simply following orders, he was now in charge of other soldiers (his highest rank was that of Master Sergeant). Serving in the US Army taught him how to respond in the moment to whatever presents itself. You do what you need to do, and move on. Serving his country in the US military has become an important part of who Carl Ordwan is today. He was devoted to his men, but also considered himself "one of the guys" rather than anyone special. He didn't hesitate to counsel soldiers to "get out" if they didn't like it, and mentored more than one of his less experienced ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Corps) supervisors.

Carl recounted one such Second Lieutenant, right out of college, who bluntly told him, "Sergeant, I'm depending on you because I don't know a darn thing." Now that takes real courage on the part of the officer! Of course, Carl also worked with some inexperienced officers who thought they "knew everything" (and maybe they did--on paper at least), but in any vocation it's also wise to recognize the value of experience. Higher ranked officers generally recognized this as well, and told Carl to "straighten out" his boss on more than one occasion. Perhaps his most difficult interpersonal challenge was working with a new officer who had no humility whatsoever, and Carl was prepared to request a transfer if things didn't change. Ultimately, it was the young officer who was transferred. As in any people-intensive occupation, Carl learned the fundamentals of interpersonal communication during his Army experience: what to say, how and when to say it, and who to say it to.

Carl proudly told me about the love of his life, Jenness, who he met on the Love Boat (really!). A standing joke between them was that she "outranked him" when they met after the Korean War. Jenness was a reserve warrant officer and Carl was an active duty advisor to her reserve unit (an NCO). It didn't take long before sparks began to fly and they remained married until she passed away a few ago.

One of Carl's most memorable moments during wartime was when the troops were traveling by ship toward Japan at the end of WWII after the atomic bombs had been dropped. They had no idea what to expect from the Japanese people, but they were pleasantly surprised to find the Japanese military and civilians to be quite friendly. Carl surmised that when the Emperor announced the war was over, the Japanese honored this fact and accepted the troops in peace.

At age 84, Carl says he'd jump at the opportunity to rejoin the military if he could. He still misses being in the Service, and his military service and memories have truly become part of who he is today.

From Cattle Ranch to Coastal California

2011-11-06T21:20:00.000-08:00

An interview with Nancy Alquist, Jenner, CA

Nancy Alquist was born in southeast Arizona in 1925 and lived her first ten years on her father’s cattle ranch. At age 10, her mother decided it was time to move into town so Nancy and her brother could “learn how to get along with other people our own age.” She graduated from high school in the small town of Douglas, AZ on the Mexican border. She then went on to college; first to a “finishing school” in Hollywood, California for junior college where her most vivid memory was of graduation when they marched in to the Triumphal March from Aida, rather than the expected Pomp and Circumstance tune. Nancy went on to complete her Bachelor’s degree at the University of Arizona in anthropology, thanks to the inspiration of a “magnificent professor who taught one class in ethnology,” providing Nancy with an educational framework for better understanding her experiences as a child, having grown up around three distinct cultures: Anglo-American, Mexican, and Yaqui Indian.

After graduation, Nancy moved back to Los Angeles, found clerical work, married for five years, and eventually discovered social work as a career to support herself and her son based on the advice of an “astute counselor” at the California Department of Employment. At one point, Nancy became disgruntled with the way she and other county employees were treated and she joined the efforts to bring the Service Employees International Union (SEIU) to the area in 1966. The main concerns of organizers such as Nancy were related to the lack of recognition and value placed on the work they were doing in the field. Core values Nancy was raised with were to work hard, do the right thing, and in turn you could expect decent treatment and fair compensation; yet she knew this wasn’t happening. Prior to collective bargaining, Nancy described their annual process of “collective begging” as going to the board of supervisors to beg for an increase in allocated funds. Written job descriptions and expectations at that time did not reflect actual field experiences, and field workers were not allowed to provide input to more accurately reflect their reality. For one thing, the field of social work at the time didn’t take into consideration cultural differences that were very much a reality among client families in L.A. County. Also, employees had no medical insurance, the civil service rules were not necessarily followed, and some employees received less compensation than comparably sized families on welfare. Eventually, the union made a difference in all these areas.

Nancy’s life changed abruptly when her mother had a stroke and Nancy returned to Arizona to care for her. Like herself, Nancy’s mother was an independent spirited woman, and the role reversal was a bit of an adjustment. She eventually found a good caregiver and was able to return to L.A. where she embarked on a 10 year active volunteer career for the American Red Cross. Her first relief effort was back in Arizona after the Tucson flood of 1983, and her last assignment was in the Caribbean after Hurricane Hugo.

When Nancy’s son and daughter in law moved to Northern California in 1988, they helped her look for affordable investment property on the California Coast and found a 40+ acre property to purchase near Jenner. After a series of health issues, Nancy moved to this property a decade later, and she still resides there. It’s not a cattle ranch, but it’s definitely rural! Since then, she has struggled with other health issues, including a significant bout with pneumonia which required surgery and extended rehabilitation at Golden Living Center in Santa Rosa. She couldn’t say enough good things about the therapy staff there, stating “they interviewed and tested me to find out what I could do and encouraged me to do something daily, but didn’t push me beyond what I was capable of doing.” She was equally pleased with the care she received at a local residential care home, Elsa’s, where she continued her recovery under 24 hour supervision until she was able to safely return to her home just weeks ago. Nancy admitted feeling some concern when social workers initially approached her about the idea, because she recalled a rather “grim” experience at a care home back in her social work days when she visited a disabled client. Fortunately, her recent experience was “180 degrees different; the complete opposite.” She described “friendly, fantastic” caregivers and “very well prepared, balanced” meals. Other residents were also “fun” company at meal times, while maintaining a sense of independence and privacy at other times, which she appreciated.

Despite her own experience with aging parents, Nancy openly admits she didn’t connect her experience with aging parents to her own reality today, and her son still worries about her despite having in-home care. Her advice for other seniors is to “find some means of comprehending what’s going to happen down the line” and discuss future care needs and options with family members because “it will never happen to me” thinking is unrealistic, particularly as we live longer and lack the extended family living arrangements of prior generations (and some other cultures). She also encourages people to keep their bodies and minds healthy to avoid some of the preventable problems associated with aging. Nancy keeps her mind active by reading, computer games, and the World Wide Web. Yes, she’s a self-described “computer illiterate” but has a computer and regularly searches the Web, which is up and running most of the time thanks to Sonic.net!

Nancy also encourages other retirees to apply their work skills in some form of volunteerism. “It gives you a reason to get up every day and get out of the house. You’re doing and learning something worthwhile, and particularly in our country where we’re being exposed to different cultures every day. So much is fascinating!”

One of Nancy’s primary guiding values is to respect other human beings who earn respect. Not because of culture, skin color or language, but because of the way they behave; their moral conduct. She lives up to her own moral standard and is clearly a survivor, having survived numerous medical challenges. Nancy has a contagious enthusiasm for life and living, which is wise, indeed!

Lois Parks, Tomales CA Historian

2011-11-06T20:58:00.000-08:00

An interview with Lois Parks
Tomales, CA Historian

Lois Parks was born in Rochester, NY on October 16, 1919 and embarked on a 6 ½ yr adventure in Suifu, China with her Baptist missionary parents at the age of 10 months. Her father, a Baptist pastor, established churches in China while her mother raised Lois and her two siblings, both of whom were born in China. Lois’ most vivid early memory was when two local war lords began fighting in the mountainous area where they vacationed during the summer months, and they were briefly separated from their father in the pouring rain as he arranged transportation via river boat back to Suifu.

The row boat they used to access the river boat had no oars, so they had to pull up floor boards to use as paddles!

Upon returning to the U.S., Lois’ family moved every 2-3 years based on her father’s parish assignments. She graduated from Tamalpais High School, commuting from Fairfax daily via train, and attended Marin Junior College one year before the family relocated to the Monterey peninsula and she completed her AA degree at Salinas Junior College. Lois then found work and paid her way through college at the University of Redlands, where she received a BA degree in English. With the war in the Pacific escalating, her parents decided to move from Monterey County to Oregon, and she followed them briefly after becoming engaged to her “true love,” Roy Parks, whom she had met at Marin Junior College. Roy worked for his father, a chicken rancher in Tomales, and in 1943 Lois became a rancher’s wife and active in civic affairs. The ranch’s direct contribution to the WWII war effort was to ship chicken eggs to Australia.

The Parks’ chickens were free range, and when ranchers popularized the practice of raising chickens in cages, the Parks family switched to raising sheep because they disagreed with the practice. History has a way of repeating itself! Roy also attended courses in pasture development and animal husbandry at UC Davis, while involving their four children in 4-H.

Meanwhile, when Lois’ oldest son, Bob, started school, she became a local school board trustee and served in that capacity for the next 15 years. Never one to stay idle, Lois was also the choir director and organist for the local Presbyterian Church. When the State Board of Education tried to consolidate school districts with fewer than 1000 students, she and others spent 10 years trying to get the state to allow them to vote on maintaining an independent Tomales Unified High School District. Once approved by the State, Lois reports that the ballot measure passed the first time it was proposed, and the district continues to this day.

Another one of Lois’ projects was the Tomales Regional History Center, which she and others started at the grammar school in 1977 and moved to the former high school auditorium in the late 1990s after numerous fundraisers. The History Center includes a visual and oral history of the geographic area from Point Reyes to Bodega Bay. Historically, this was a dairy and potato growing region, and boats traveled up Tomales Bay from San Francisco to bring these products to the City.

After Lois’ husband died in 1981, her boys continued to worked the ranch and Lois began to travel with either her sister or a close friend who shares her interest in genealogy. Lois stayed at the ranch until about four years ago, when she moved into town to be near her daughter, Sharon, and then to Santa Rosa earlier this year. Her most memorable trip was back to her childhood home in China which remained much as she remembered it (including the family home, which had since been taken over by the Government). In the past three decades, Lois has traveled to China (2x), Europe (3x), Australia, the Caribbean, and throughout the continental U.S.

Reflecting on the pace of change during her lifetime, Lois openly wonders if children today have the opportunity to fully enjoy the simple pleasures in life she enjoyed growing up, observing that it “seems to take so much to entertain them.” She also wonders if children are being challenged enough. For example, it’s almost too easy to find the answers to questions via the internet at the push of a button without having to research the answers yourself. Of course, she also appreciates technology advances, such as being able to instantaneously send letters to her friends via email, and was able to experience her granddaughter’s wedding in Southern California via Skype when she couldn’t be there in person.

Lois’ advice for the children of today: (1) you can’t learn too much; (2) take time for simple pleasures; and (3) keep smiling and think on the bright side.

Now, that’s Upbeat wisdom at any age!

Ahead of their Time...

2011-08-05T22:10:00.000-07:00

Keith and Carmen Taylor, who will celebrate their 60^th wedding anniversary next year, met in 1951 at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio. He was an Indiana-born senior and she was a college freshman from the Island of Guam. After Keith graduated from Antioch with a bachelor’s degree in business administration, he enlisted in the US Air Force and they were married shortly thereafter. Their respective choice of Antioch was based in part on its unique cooperative work program, and the school’s hallmark values of gender equality and individual expression are reflected in the people they are today.

The Taylors spent their first few years of marital bliss traveling throughout the western United States with the Air Force, starting a family, and establishing early households in military-supplied ‘homes’ which included a converted chicken coop and converted WWII barracks. 3 ½ years later, with two children in tow, it was time for Keith to fulfill the promise he made to Carmen when they married: to provide opportunities for her to complete her own college education.

Education runs deep: When Keith left the Air Force at the end of his 4 year commitment, he worked as a sales engineer, traveling three weeks each month while Carmen raised their three children (a fact he’s quick to acknowledge and praise her for). As a result of subsequent job changes, Carmen attended a total of 10 different schools before completing her undergraduate, master’s and post-graduate education over the next 20 years. She majored in education with an emphasis on reading, motivated in part by their daughter’s learning disability.

Keith’s own quest for knowledge led the family to sell their home, pack up the kids, and move to Glendale, AZ for nine months so he could complete a Masters Degree in International Business at Thunderbird School of International Management to prepare for a career abroad. Founded in 1946, Thunderbird is now widely recognized as the world’s No. 1-ranked school of international business.

After completing his advanced coursework, Keith landed a position in his home state of Indiana, which provided a springboard for management opportunities in Brazil, Venezuela, and England before returning to the United States in 1972. Moving every few years can be quite a challenge for any family. When asked how the moves affected her, Carmen simply replied, “Since my family had lost everything during the War (WWII), starting over was just part of life.” Keith had also moved with his family several times during the war due to his father’s work, so it was no surprise that “we never bothered to put down an anchor” (until they discovered California, that is.) Years later, their children acknowledged they were less than enthusiastic about the moves, but didn’t complain either.

Despite wonderful international experiences, Carmen felt a bit “cheated” because they were unsuccessful in establishing close friendships with native residents in South America. Instead, American and British ex-patriots formed their own social network. Carmen and Keith’s fondest international memories were of the time they lived in the village of Ryhall, England, where they were almost immediately embraced by several “curious” villagers whose friendships have continued to this day. Carmen and Keith quickly adapted to life in the village, and found it easy to become involved in community affairs.

When Keith worked himself out of his job in England, the family returned to Arizona where Carmen continued her education and worked as a bilingual interpreter. Keith was 45 and still didn’t know what he wanted to do when he “grew up,” so he contacted a management search firm. After much thought, one of the consultants proposed that he consider becoming a college professor. So casually dropped by Arizona State University the next business day (Monday), and began his Doctoral program that week!

After graduation, Keith landed a job as Assistant Professor at Utah State, and Carmen worked as VP, Student Services and in the reading lab. Six years later, in 1985, a professorship opened up at Sonoma State University for Keith, and Carmen joined him a year later when her contract expired.

Now retired, Keith and Carmen still keep full schedules. Keith has served on the board of Becoming Independent and Santa Rosa Sunrise Rotary, Carmen volunteers regularly at Becoming Independent and the Council on Aging, and they both volunteer for various projects including SRJC-sponsored dental clinics at local elementary schools. Their interest in sharing knowledge and serving others spans the generations!

Still Running at 84...an Interview with Bill Evans

2011-08-05T21:44:00.000-07:00

In more ways than one, Bill Evans of Santa Rosa is a distance runner. He started running at age 40, and still runs an average of 15 miles per week (=780 miles/yr), not to mention his golf addiction (yes, he’s the man you see regularly on the Bennett Valley golf course, running between holes).

Naturally athletic, Bill has always been physically active and played just about every sport imaginable in his youth. He took up tennis and golf in college at the University of Toledo, but it wasn’t until he turned 40 that he really started paying attention to his health. Perhaps the magic 4-0 was a wake-up call, since his own father died at age 48 of a heart attack.

Bill was born in Toledo, Ohio in 1926. His father was an aspiring performer who had difficulty finding work during the depression, but his mother found steady employment as a secretary for the local newspaper to keep food on the table and provide shelter for their family of four. From an early age, he learned to truly appreciate the sacrifices of working women of that generation, as he witnessed his mother coming home after work to cook and clean. Growing up in Ohio was a far cry from Northern California: he recalled the winters being so cold and coal so hard to come by that his father nailed the front door closed during the winter so they’d preserve the heat!

The single life event which left the longest lasting impression on Bill happened during his service in the US Navy, which he entered in 1944 at age 18. He was in the Battle of Okinawa toward the end of WWII and the Japanese were dropping bombs all around them. While some other soldiers seemed to panic, Bill suddenly realized he wasn’t afraid; he was prepared to accept the situation, not worry about what he had no control over, and do what he could within his control. Since that snapshot in time, he has lived his lived his life with acceptance; beyond fear.

After the War, Bill became somewhat of a self-described “playboy,” enjoying the single life through college and a career in newspaper reporting, writing and sports editing in Indiana and Texas, and then back in Toledo with Dun & Bradstreet as a financial reporter before taking advantage of a transfer opportunity to their San Francisco office in 1961 (where he could golf year-round). Once in San Francisco, Bill experienced a longing he had never felt before: he was ready to settle down and start a family. Within a year, he met Diane, a local nurse, who’s been his wife since 1963. They’ve raised “four wonderful kids,” whom he considers his single greatest accomplishment in life.

One’s heroes say much about a person and what’s important to them. When asked if he had any personal heroes, Bill was quick to name three, all of whom he admires for the courage they demonstrated by speaking out: Daniel Ellsberg (Pentagon Papers); Mahatma Gandhi (India civil rights and independence); and Daniel Berrigan (anti-war protester). His own greatest concern is the growing gap between rich and poor in this country, and the trillions of dollars we spend on foreign wars vs. direct aid to people both locally and globally.

And now, for the $100,000 question: what is Bill’s secret to living a long, healthy life? While I admittedly expected him to say “exercise,” he actually surprised me when he said he discovered the secret rather recently: “It’s FUN to do more than you have to” for others, as demonstrated these days by the many things Bill does around his community to help neighbors and keep it clean and beautiful. He takes pleasure in the appreciation he receives, and also enjoys random “anonymous” acts. His volunteer work beyond neighborhood beautification has ranged from volunteering to help immigrant adults improve their English skills, to driving neighborhood children to/from school and appointments, Forgotten Felines volunteer work, and many other contributions, large and small. Reflecting on the marathon of his life, Bill shared only one regret: spending much of his youth and young adulthood engaged in activities for his own pleasure rather than doing for others, which he finds much more gratifying. I personally think he’s done more than his fair share already, but know he’ll always go the extra mile.

Run on, Bill!

Honoring Dad on Father’s Day

2011-06-01T18:34:00.000-07:00

Tell me, what’s in

Your little black bag

That travels

Near and far?

We pile in the wagon

Wait for minutes

Maybe hours

Seems like forever

Cramped quarters quarrel

Averted by a promise

An ice cream cone

Perhaps?

Eyes glued to the window

Hoping they’ll be better soon

So the little black bag,

and its owner, will return.

It seems like only yesterday when we did just that: four of six children, 2 years apart, would pile into my father’s Chevy station wagon to accompany him on “house calls.” This was back in the 1960s when house calls were a common occurrence among general practice MDs in the upper Midwest. Dad carried his medical supplies in a black leather “doctor bag.” He was dedicated to his practice and patients in a way I admired but never wanted to emulate. We spent hundreds of hours, summers and weekends, waiting in his office, the hospital waiting room, and on house calls; reading Highlights magazines from cover to cover, watching the people go by. But it was all worth it, because we were waiting for Dad.

J. Kent Tweeten, M.D., was born in Rochelle, Illinois on December 17, 1915 to an authoritarian Lutheran minister from Iowa, and his wife, Maud. He respected his father, but deeply admired his mild-mannered mother who was raised by family friends in a sod house on the plains of South Dakota in the 1880s after her immigrant parents and siblings succumbed to an epidemic when she was only one year old. The childhood death of his youngest brother, Paul, influenced his interest in pursuing medicine as a profession.

Shortly after graduating from medical school, Kent received his military orders to report for active duty in the U.S. Medical Corps and served in Europe from August 1944 through March 1946. His favorite “war story” was his memory of the evening he spent in a “very nice foxhole” which had been built and occupied by a German soldier the night before.

My father grew up during the depression, but his frugal parents managed to support all three children through college. Dad “paid it forward” by supporting all six of his own children through college. Not going to college was never an option. The value Dad placed on education was that great, yet he never pressured us to attend a specific university or pursue a particular course of study. In his own quiet, steady way, Dad held high expectations of each of us to do our best, and we never wanted to disappoint him.

Mother died when my youngest sister was only 4, which increased my father’s responsibility that much more to become both Provider and Parent. As stoic as his parents, Dad had minimal assistance around the house (other than from us kids with regular ‘chores’) and never remarried. I vividly remember Dad scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors on multiple occasions as I finished homework in high school. He never complained, and didn’t expect us to, either. I recall when he finally replaced our thread-bare wool carpeting, only after a family friend commented that it might be time for a change. I honestly don’t think he had the time (or inclination) to even notice the wear and tear! His Depression-era and Midwestern values seem fleeting at best in today’s fast-paced consumer-driven society, but he prepared us well for the “Great Recession.”

Dad also always paid cash for his cars (and paid off his mortgage in about 5 years on a house he owned for almost 50). He taught us to balance our checkbooks (to the penny!), limit credit cards, and pay them off monthly to avoid interest charges. Frugal? Yes. But at age 95, he is still living life on his terms, to the extent his body will let him, without financial strife. Growing old has its challenges, but he’s wearing his age well.

Thanks, Dad, for teaching your children well. You’re my hero. Happy Father’s Day!

A Mother's Day Interview

2011-05-01T18:43:00.000-07:00

Mary Luttrell with her mother, Mildred Smiser Vyverberg, age 99

What a wonderful opportunity to honor mothers, young or old, on Mother's Day by spending some quality time together, giving your mother, or a mother you know, an opportunity to share the wisdom of her years (age does have its advantages). Listen to her words, but don't stop there because much is communicated in other ways. Mary Luttrell of Forestville, CA did just that on a recent trip to visit her mother, Mildred, in Florida:

On Sunday afternoon, February 13, I had an extraordinary conversation with Mom. She was in bed, drowsy, but not sleeping. She is still and small, and I sat by her bed. She would look at me with her eyes just slightly open, or just with one eye at a time, conserving her energy. We had several rounds of repeated conversations in answer to her questions of "Where am I?" and "Is my mother/Sis (her sister)/Sam (her brother)still living?" Mother has long been widely regarded for her humor, wit and commentary. I took notes as we talked. Here are some of her comments that afternoon:

"I'm glad you came to see me, but I'm afraid I'm a little wilted."

"What are you doing running around loose?"

"How long have I been dilapidated?"

"Am I sick or just temporarily slowed down?"

"How old am I? Did you say 99? Well, that's a whopper."

"How long have I been in bed? Well, that's a nuisance."

"I'm glad you have a fiancé. It's good for you to have company, someone that's interested. I just want you to be happy. You just go along and be happy. Say hello for me."

When she asked when I was going back to California, she said, "Well, I'll be gone by then. But we can't all be on the same train."

"I'm not sure I'll last much longer. We can't have everybody going on for years and years. It wouldn't work out right."

"I'll check up on you all sometime."

"We can't have everything we want all the time. You can't change things, so just enjoy what you have."

"Things don't stay the same, do they? They keep turning over and turning over. We will see what we will see."

"Is this a north-facing room? I don't think I'm going to need it anymore. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I don't think I will have an extended life."

"I'm going to miss you, but you can't keep going on and on. Somehow I'm not extremely excited one way or the other."

"I'm glad I got to see you and hear you. It means so much more."

"I'm not sure I'll last that much longer. Thanks for coming to see me. I'll be waiting around the corner for you. I'll be looking for you one of these days."

At one point, when I said "I love you, Mom," she replied, "Well that's good; that brightens things up."

"Bye, bye, Hon. I'll see you sometime."

Thank you, Mary, for sharing your mother's 99 years of hard-earned wisdom with our readers. Happy Mother's Day, Mildred!

An Interview with Bob Gimlin

2011-04-01T18:37:00.000-07:00

What’s your definition of success? After reading his memoirs and completing our interview, I consider Bob Gimlin of Oakmont an American success story. I also believe Bob’s success can be attributed to much more than “being in the right place at the right time,” as he first proposed. A humble man, it took persistence to convince Bob that his life experiences were worth sharing with Upbeat Times readers. In Bob’s stories, I witnessed the unfolding of a deeply rewarding life that encompasses much more than material wealth.

Born in Chicago in 1921 to a friendly, easygoing father and a conscientious mother who was a real “go-getter,” Bob credits his mother with opening the first and perhaps most significant door of opportunity for him: a college education. With her support and encouragement, Bob attended Purdue University where he met Jane Haltom, his future wife. They were engaged before Bob enlisted in the US Navy in 1941 while still completing his engineering studies, and married before he was ordered for active duty following the attack on Pearl Harbor. Bob returned home from the Navy just in time to witness the birth of his second child, Hal (preceded by Gail), and was given the opportunity to work in, and potentially take over, his father-in-law’s business. However, after a brief period of readjustment to civilian life, he walked away from that opportunity to chart his own course. Opportunity after opportunity, Bob ultimately became president and CEO of Abitbi-Price, the world’s largest newsprint producer, until his retirement in 1985.

To Bob, the most important measuring sticks of success in life are based on the success of your relationships: family first and foremost, followed by personal and business relationships. Bob believes it’s also important to be happy with oneself. While the right work/life balance can be elusive, and today’s standards are certainly different from the standards during his work career, Bob seemed to find the right balance for himself and his family. He is also very proud of his extended family members and their work and life pursuits, even if their work adventures haven’t always been financially successful. There’s one more subtle but telling measure of Bob’s success: he still cherishes meeting his “girlfriend” (Jane) out on the patio at 4:27 each afternoon to share the day’s happenings amid their beautiful orchid garden after 68 years of marriage!

Perhaps the most compelling explanation for Bob Gimlin’s success in life is his attitude toward both people and work. He doesn’t know anyone who dislikes him, and also couldn’t think of a single person he’s ever met who he dislikes. I believe him! He seems to have a gift for seeing the unique positive qualities in every human being he’s met. A compelling example was when he described his interactions with labor unions in both the U.S. (where the company had the upper hand) and Canada (where unions had the upper hand). Over time, he learned to appreciate the challenges of “both sides of the coin,” and despite some difficult union negotiations in Canada, he became “very friendly” with the union boss.

With regard to work, Bob also confidently stated that he enjoyed every job he ever had, and his jobs were “never work” to him. He clearly loves to learn, and as a former HR director I know how infectious a good attitude can be in a workplace (and conversely, how poisonous a bad one can be). Beyond being in the right place at the right time, I have no doubt Bob Gimlin was both well prepared to take on new responsibilities and eager to do so when job and promotion opportunities became available. The lessons he learned growing up during the Depression, and inspiration he received from his mother to work hard, “be considerate of other people,” and follow the Golden Rule, also contributed to Bob’s drive and ultimate success in life.

Thank you, Bob, for sharing your success and wisdom with readers!

Holiday Memories....

2010-12-21T18:00:00.000-08:00

With the holidays upon us, I sought inspiration from elders by asking them to share favorite holiday memories for my final 2010 column. So I set off to the Santa Rosa Senior Center to collect vignettes from a few willing subjects.

Quite frankly, I was humbled by some of the memories shared below, because they speak as much about the strength of the human spirit as they do about holiday spirit. The stories are not uniformly 'upbeat' because the memories were not. However, to me the challenges represent powerful statements about what the "Greatest Generation" has experienced and endured through the past century, which is worthy of celebration. It also reminds me how lucky I am to have been raised a Baby Boomer, a generation which has benefited tremendously from the blood, sweat and tears of the generations preceding my own.

Addie's fondest and most vivid holiday memory was in 1936 at age six. That year, all the girls in her Austin, Texas orphanage received Shirley Temple dolls and she absolutely cherished hers. She claims "they spoiled us."

Dee fondly remembers her Irish Grandmother in El Reno, Oklahoma, who would take down her long, lush white hair and act like a bear. She also remembers not having indoor plumbing and being afraid to go outside at night to use the outhouse...especially during a blizzard!

Raised in Manchester, England, Judy remembers spending Christmas 1940 in an air raid shelter in Manchester after her first year of military service. During the day, they would come out to survey the fires and devastation left by the German air raids, and recalled when her sister ran out of a shelter despite the protection it offered because she feared a nearby rat more than the bombing!

Prudence, who was raised in Shanghai, China, thought of Chinese New Year when I asked about her holiday memories. She loved to play with dice, and her family would visit ancestral temples on this special day.

Ralph, who served in the 41st Infantry Division during WWII, will never forget his holiday memories in Hiro, Japan after the 1945 atomic bombing of Hiroshima where he witnessed human starvation firsthand; a stark reminder of the casualties of war.

Bea loved the smell of the freshly cut Christmas tree her father would find in the woods near her home in Stuttgart, Arkansas, and the simple joy of stringing it with popcorn, tinsel and lights. When the snow came, they always built a snowman with nose and eyes made out of mud!

Raised in Sydney Australia, Liz remembers celebrating hot and humid Christmas days there. Despite the weather, her family always had a traditional British Christmas lunch, complete with Plum Pudding and brandy sauce. They were 'incapacitated' for much of the afternoon, but managed to reach the beach by late afternoon. Then, on December 26 (Boxing Day), friends would converge at their house by Sydney Harbor to watch the annual Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race.

Joe, who was raised in Alabama, recalled his 7 year old brother's reaction when he didn't receive the present he expected for Christmas, declaring "I hate Santa Claus" before marching back to bed. Joe never did find out what his brother was expecting that he didn't get! (Maybe he even kept it a secret from Santa...?)

During the winter months, Miriam enjoyed riding her wooden sled with metal glides from the top of the hill in her home town of Salem, Massachusetts. When the pond they used for ice skating froze over, they'd build a fire and sit on logs nearby to stay warm between spins.

In closing, I'd like to celebrate and give thanks to the wise elder who has helped shape my life: my father, Kent Tweeten, who celebrates his 95th birthday on December 17 in Madison, Wisconsin. Happy Birthday, Dad!

May you experience the simple joys this holiday season has to offer.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”

2010-11-10T19:13:00.000-08:00

Mert Preston, who will turn 85 this December, was raised by his mother, Henrietta, and grandparents in the farming community of Visalia, CA. His grandfather was a businessman during Mert’s childhood, and became a farmer after the stock market crash so he could put food on the table. His mother also had good business sense, and eventually opened a successful corset & lingerie shop in Visalia. Having devoted her life to raising and supporting her two children and her parents until their late 80s, Mert fondly remembers her “lusting for a T-Bird,” and felt his mother deserved this indulgence, but she resisted the temptation because she wanted to save money to pass on to her children. Unfortunately, she died of cancer shortly thereafter at the age of 58, and her dream never became a reality.

Henrietta was a powerful role model for Mert. She never spoke poorly of anyone, including his father who abandoned the family when Mert and his sister were young children. He vividly remembers his grammar school days when the local sheriff was arrested for drunk driving. In his small town of Visalia this news was quite a scandal, but his mother’s response was, “There but for the grace of God go I.” The lesson? Our fate is not entirely in our own hands, and another’s misfortune could very well have been your own! Personally, it reminds me to guard against pre-judging others and their human foibles. Henrietta also left Mort with the gift of being able to listen to all sides of an argument and “giving people a lot of leeway to be themselves.”

Reflecting on his life, Mort remembers the Golden Rule, and believes and practices “you get back what you put out.” He was a self-described “sissy” as a kid, who was underweight and nonathletic. In retrospect he ponders the role this played in his becoming “a gentle guy.”

After completing high school, Mert served in Germany during WWII (1944-1946). He started in artillery, but after D-Day he worked in a clerical capacity in medical aid stations and became responsible for running an aid station within a few short months. This was his first of many experiences stepping into a leadership role.

When Mert returned home after the War, he was expected to complete his training and become the doctor in the family, but after taking a biology class at the local junior college he soon discovered he was destined for experiential vs classroom learning and a career in business. Doors began to open, starting with the opportunity to run a car parts department for family friends in San Rafael. This experience quickly led to others; first as a buyer for a parts store in Stockton and then in Fresno. He fondly remembers the business owners/teachers he had along the way, who ultimately helped him gain the confidence he needed to open his own store, Preston Automotive Center, which he operated from 1959 until 1980 when he sold the business.

As Mert achieved the American Dream of a successful business, marriage, four children, and mortgage-free home by the age of 49, he suddenly became “terribly depressed” to the point where he had suicidal thoughts and “couldn’t see any way out.” He was raised in a very private family, and men didn’t talk about their feelings to anyone. But when he saw an ad about couple’s therapy, he brought it home and encouraged his wife to attend sessions together.

The year was 1980 and Mert’s life was about to undergo a profound change. He started private counseling sessions and it wasn’t long before the counselor put a name to the struggle he faced: he was homosexual. To Mert’s amazement, while he saw disaster lurking, the counselor repeatedly responded, “And what’s the problem?”

Through counseling, Mert was able to come to terms with this truth, and confided it to his wife. He prepared himself for their discussion with the book, “Loving Someone Gay,” by Don Clark, which he later also shared with his four adult children. Again to his amazement, both Mert’s wife, Ann, and his children accepted him for who he was without major upheaval. For the first time in his life he was living life on his own terms, not someone else’s. Mert and Ann never legally separated, but he did eventually move out of their shared home. He felt particularly blessed that his children accepted him and he was able to maintain a good friendship with his wife until she died of cancer six years later. The one hole in his life that remains is love. “The kind of love that grows over time, with a life partner you fall in love with and share your life with.” With that said, he has no regrets, because he wouldn’t be the person he is today without the experiences he has endured and the children he and Ann raised to adulthood.

Even before his life view dramatically changed both at work and at home, subtle changes were underway which called Mert to a life of service and leadership. This calling ultimately led Mert to his personal mission “Encouraging men to look at the way they lead their lives and be willing to explore change and stimulate their own personal growth.” Mert’s call to service began at Petaluma People Services Center, where he served on the Board of Directors from 1978-1982. He went on to co-found a men’s support group in Sonoma County, MEN: Men Evolving Non-violently. He was also a charter board member of Sonoma County AIDS Foundation, where he served through 1995. One of his proudest achievements was his work with the AIDs Foundation, because it opened him up to life. He was particularly honored when the AIDS Foundation established the Mert Preston Award to honor outstanding volunteer service.

Raised Catholic, Mert still considers himself Catholic and enjoys mass, although he struggles with the church’s position regarding homosexuality. When asked what he’d like to share with today’s youth, Mert borrowed a quote from the Book of Micah (6:8) in this simple yet profound statement:

“To act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God.”

Regardless of your belief system, to Mert the universal message is a simple one. “It is incumbent on each of us to be a decent person.” As I concluded our interview and glanced around Mert’s living room, I couldn’t help but notice the books prominently displayed on his coffee table which speak volumes about who Mert Preston is and what he believes: “Elders on Love,” by Lakritz Knoblauch and “When we were Colored, a Mother’s Story,” by Eva Rutland.

Thank you for sharing your wisdom, Mert!

ATTITUDE is EVERYTHING…

2010-10-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

According to Lynn McClintock, he “shouldn’t be here.” Born prematurely on November 29, 1918, Lynn weighed in at about 2 ½ pounds and has maintained his lean physique ever since. His mother reportedly brought him home “in a shoe box” and he slept “in a dresser drawer.” Now almost 92, Lynn’s positive attitude and commitment to cycling has helped him stay trim and healthy. He used to ride his bicycle 6,000+ miles per year, but now is averaging under 5,000 miles per year with his son and two other riding buddies, or 80-100 miles per week (!), not to mention occasional rides with other friends from Sonoma County and elsewhere. Lynn has downsized from owning five bikes to ‘just’ two road bikes at this time: a steel frame Waterford, and a carbon fiber Trek Madone. You gear-heads out there will know what that means; for the rest of us, suffice it to say they’re pretty impressive bikes!

Lynn has been legally blind in his right eye for about fifteen years, but that hasn’t affected either his riding ability or his spirit. He moved to Santa Rosa’s Oakmont Village senior community with his wife, Lorraine (“Raine”) in 1981 and has only missed “3 or 4” of the annual Wine Country Century rides hosted by the Santa Rosa Cycling Club throughout this 30 year span, despite moving to Woodland several years ago to be closer to his son. And yes, he’s ridden the full 100 mile century each year.

Lynn’s attitude about life and the ease with which he has climbed the hills and mountains along the road are truly inspiring. Born and raised in Southern California, he studied animal husbandry at Cal Poly and spent several years on his uncle’s cattle ranch preparing to become a cattle rancher himself, but health issues prevented him from pursuing this physically demanding vocation. So he entered a business college and worked for Pfizer, the world’s largest research-based pharmaceuticals firm, in veterinary medicines and supplements. He traveled extensively for work, and spent many lonely nights away from home. Then in June of 1969, Lynn happened to notice six+ cyclists in a pace-line formation near his home in Arcadia, and told Raine that he thought it ‘looked fun.’ At her urging, Lynn bought his first bicycle since his paperboy days, and soon started bringing his bike on business trips. He started riding two to three hours at the end of the work day to pass the time away from home…and a forty+ year exercise habit was born!

Lynn learned a thing or two from his father, who met his own fate re: cattle ranching when he bought a head of cattle to start a cattle ranch: the business was “wiped out” when they discovered the cattle had hoof and mouth disease. Trudging on, he developed a retail meat trade in supermarkets throughout Southern California and became quite successful. Success had its own price tag, however, as the family moved almost annually during Lynn’s formative years as his father was transferred from one store to another.

You’ll understand the meaning of true love when you hear Lynn speak about his wife of 69 years, Raine, who passed away on July 4 of this year. They met in a most unusual way: via his sister’s ex-boyfriend. As the story goes, Lynn had grown fond of this young man, and was in Alaska hoping to land a canning job when they split up. Hearing the news upon his return to California, Lynn decided to visit the young man’s family home and extend his condolences regarding the breakup. When a young woman opened the door, “that guy with an arrow” pierced Lynn’s heart. Yes, it was the young man’s sister, and love at first sight which continued throughout Lynn and Raine’s “special” marriage. She lives on in the memories and carefully placed mementos throughout their home in Woodland, including the first birthday card Lynn gave her that still sits on the bedroom dresser; or the jumbo Mother’s Day card from their son, prominently displayed in the living room.

Lynn’s tips for living a long, healthy life include exercise; watching what you eat; and a good attitude. Despite his own health challenges from infancy on, this philosophy has certainly worked for Lynn, as he currently takes no medications; “not even an aspirin”. His advice for today’s youth: “Don’t be influenced by what you think others think you should do, and don’t be afraid to do something different. You can do anything if you’re motivated and have a good attitude.” And for those of you over fifty who are considering cycling for exercise? Lynn says, “if you cycled as a kid and like exercise, you can’t beat cycling now because you use everything with no jarring”. You also get to enjoy the landscape and wildlife from a unique vantage point.

When asked what his own future will hold, Lynn quipped that he’s “signed on for ten more years,” at least as far as cycling is concerned! So be sure to look for him at the 2020 Wine Country Century…

Marion Almeraz

2010-10-01T20:20:00.000-07:00

When I interviewed Marion Almeraz for this column, she didn’t understand “what’s the big deal” about her life other than the fact that she’s still independent and active at age 99. Marion’s friend Claudia, who referred her to me, felt otherwise.

Born Marion Reese in Detroit, MI on September 3, 1911, Marion’s family participated in the post-WWI Upper Midwest migration to the Golden State. Her fondest lifetime memory is of the family trip west over a 3+ month period in 1920, driving a 1914 Ford Touring Car with a canvas top and “Isinglass” windows (made from a form of mica) and camping along the way.

Marion’s father was a sheet metal worker in Detroit, but when WWI ended it was difficult to find the coal needed to fuel their family furnace the following winter. After suffering through temperatures dropping to 20 degrees below zero during the winter of 1919-1920, her father declared he was “never going to spend another winter in that Godforsaken country!” Thanks to her father’s love of reading and knowledge about world affairs, he knew the family’s future was destined for the Golden State of California and they arrived in the Central Valley on Marion’s 9^th birthday.

During the Great Depression, Marion recalled that her parents and two older siblings stood in food lines. Her father found odd jobs and her older brother ultimately worked for the phone company. In Marion’s opinion, the most significant World event in her lifetime was when Teddy Roosevelt was elected and established the Social Security system, because this system “has kept this country from being in even worse shape today. Before Social Security, when people lost their jobs they went to the Poor House and had no security whatsoever.” Marion has always been very interested in democratic politics, and her work included being secretary to the President of the Democratic National Committee in Santa Rosa.

Marion moved to Santa Rosa with her husband in 1941 to be near her sister. He was in the sign business, but materials weren’t easily accessible as WWII approached so he found work painting buildings for the air force and in 1943 they bought the house Marion still occupies today. Marion proudly raised two children in that home, and boasts about her three grandchildren who “are all college graduates.”

A dominating theme in Marion’s life stems from her love of animals. She received her first dog at age six, raised Irish Setters and Poodles, and had a poodle grooming parlor for 30 years on her property in Santa Rosa. In 1949 Marion helped start the first dog obedience class in Santa Rosa, and also established the first AKC dog show at the Sonoma County Fairgrounds. Today, she owns two cats, Dexter (Maine Coon) and Raja (Siamese).

Despite a small physical setback earlier this year when she fell boarding the bus to a local casino (an outing she enjoys weekly), Marion remains incredibly active at age 99. She plays bridge 3-4 times per week at the Santa Rosa Senior Center, and loves to dance at every opportunity. She also enjoys crossword puzzles and chauffeurs her much younger friend, Claudia, around town, boasting a 67 year accident and ticket-free driving record. Her current license expires in three years (age 102), and Marion fully intends to keep driving herself and others as long as she is able!

Marion credits her long life and good health to being “lucky, I guess!” She claims to eat and drink whatever she wants, but doesn’t smoke and religiously eats half a grapefruit every day. When asked what advice she’d like to share with today’s youth, her knee-jerk response was to say “I’m glad I’m not raising children now,” and then, “establish a goal and stick to it.” She also wishes young people would write and appreciate “good music” again! Me, too, but I do recall my own parents’ reaction to Rock ‘n Roll…

David Franklin

2010-09-10T20:18:00.000-07:00

David Frankin, age 89, was born in Vancouver BC and raised in Victoria. His father died when he was an infant, and his mother, Jeannette, raised David and his older sister, Muriel, as a single mother. Jeannette had graduated from nursing school before he was born but her license wasn’t recognized in British Columbia so she became a dress maker and “informally” shared her nursing knowledge with others. David particularly admired the soft, gentle way she managed very difficult situations, including her ability to ask for what was needed “for the children,” providing David and his sister with food and shelter despite a very modest income of $30/month. She also provided wise counsel to help other parents care for their children’s health needs.

At an early age, David was aware that his mother wanted him to have male role models, and she pursued opportunities for him to attend a private school with male teachers. After multiple rejections, a local Catholic school accepted David for the tuition his mother could afford: $1.00 per month. While David felt the bitter disappointment of rejection before this school finally accepted him, his mother’s perseverance taught him two very important life lessons: first, don’t give up; and second, don’t take rejection personally.

David “came of age” during the Great Depression, but his mother struggled to make ends meet from his infancy. As a young child, David recalls the family owned two goats. While his mother worked as a dressmaker, David and his older sister brought the goats to empty fields around Victoria and tied them up to feed. In return, the goats provided them with milk, cream, and butter.

When asked about his greatest fear, David responded, “History repeating itself.” Raised in the Liberal Catholic Church, the local priest in his small community congregation repeatedly emphasized that fighting and war were not the way to behave, which helped shaped David’s views about war. Despite a strong desire to support his mother country of England and honor Queen Victoria, David was never drafted during WWII and considered himself a conscientious objector. This was far from a popular view in the 1940s, and many people considered him simply “messed up.” He credits his priest with supporting him through this difficult time and helping him honor the values he was raised with: “to love one another, including people with different belief systems and values.”

In 1939, David was given the opportunity to attend college through a fellowship program. As a result, he became an educator himself, first in primary school mathematics and then in sociology at the University of British Columbia. Rising above his family’s financial limitations to attend and then teach college level courses is David’s proudest accomplishment. He has both witnessed and participated in many opportunities to bring people together to work out their differences, and appreciating them.

Perhaps David’s greatest teacher (beyond his mother, who he admires more than any other single individual) was Dr. Emma Smiley, president of Victoria Truth Centre and teacher/counselor as well. The values reinforced by Mrs. Smiley have shaped David’s life, including: (1) Don’t fight; (2) Be kind to everyone, especially people with different ideas and values; (3) Be kind to animals; and (4) Don’t accentuate differences. David was not only a student of Emma Smiley’s; he ultimately coached speakers at the Center as well.

David is a life-long learner. He believes he has discovered the secret to staying vibrant within the past five years through a simple yet profound lesson: “You’re not alone.” To David, this means asking for help from the Holy Spirit; a higher power reminding him “I am here always.” Conflict has been troubling for David, but now when he finds himself in conflict with someone, even in daily matters, he asks for help and a resolution is always forthcoming. He no longer feels the need to figure it out or push for what he wants. He understands that his way is not the only way, and others may have a better solution. He now simply stands back and “allows the healing to unfold.”

Not surprisingly, David has been involved in the field of holistic health for over 20 years, working with human chakras (energy centers) and auras (energy fields). Emma Smiley was his inspiration for this work, which he still practices today.

When asked what he would change if given the opportunity to live life over again, David confidently responded, “Nothing!” Shaped by a culmination of rich life experiences, David Franklin would be not the person he is today without following the path which has unfolded for him over the past 89 years, and it continues to be a rich and rewarding life journey!

Wisconsin farm girl, redhead, WWII code breaker, and that’s only the beginning…

2010-08-10T20:09:00.000-07:00

I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Dorothy Heinemann in the home she shares with her husband, Bill (who clearly still makes her heart go pitter patter), high above Austin Creek in western Sonoma County. Born a middle child of six on a Wisconsin farm, the highlight of Dorothy’s childhood was spending time with her grandmother. A prolific writer, Dorothy shared several memoirs with me, including “Everyone Needs a Grandma,” in which she recounts, “You made each of us feel special and loved. Never did I hear you say a critical word about anyone. You were the most understanding person I ever met.” She was also proud of both the special relationship and the red hair that she shared with her Grandma, who “…would bake me special cookies and let me have her sewing scraps to make clothes for my doll.”

Dorothy is a gifted woman who clearly thrives on adventure. Her first big break was at age seventeen when she was awarded a college scholarship. She recounts that she “left home and never looked back.” Following her mother’s advice, Dorothy attended a teacher’s college, but after a short time she concluded it wasn’t the profession for her so she went to work in a Milwaukee defense plant inspecting superchargers (point of wisdom: if you don’t like what you do, don’t do it!) Then one day, like many primarily male youth of her generation, Dorothy’s life changed forever when the bony finger of an “Uncle Sam Wants YOU” poster grabbed her attention. In the blink of an eye, undeterred by the reaction she expected from her mother, Dorothy stepped into the recruiting office and signed up!

Little did Dorothy realize in July of 1944, after completing boot camp, she would be one of only four women (all redheads) to be selected among several thousand new female recruits to serve in the signal corps (responsible for military communications) and participate in “one of the greatest secrets of all history” by working as a cryptologist at Arlington Hall to help decipher the Japanese code. So secret was her mission that she maintained silence regarding her assignment “under the penalty of death” for treason until after the work was declassified in 1989. They were repeatedly reminded how important their work was to the war effort, but at the time she didn’t fully realize this and “as time went on, I almost forgot my experience. I consigned it to the remote and distant past…”

After serving ten months at Arlington Hall without leaving the base, Dorothy’s unit was granted leave to attend the funeral parade for President Franklin D. Roosevelt. As she recounts in a memoir, “the funeral procession moved slowly past the spectators, most of whom were in tears…I remember the crushing sadness…for once I recognized the unfolding of an historic event. An era had passed by, and such a one as our dead president would never come again.” And then, “…on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb was dropped, the world changed forever, and the war was over. By the end of August I was in Dallas, Texas and another adventure loomed before me…” She met an Air Force supply sergeant by the name of William Heinemann, two years her junior, “who looked quite sharp in his uniform…”

Dorothy reports the adventure that shaped her life the most was marrying a career air force man (yes, Bill). They had two children. Their son was born just 10 months after the wedding, and daughter followed 7 ½ years later. Dorothy continued to work and pursued further education through the years. Some of her experiences included computer operations for the U.N. and working for several newspapers including two in Texas and the Marin Independent Journal after moving to California in 1959. She went on to obtain a Bachelor’s degree in management from Sonoma State University at the age of fifty-five and worked as a bookkeeper at Hastings College. Dorothy misses the writing class she used to attend in Guerneville but continues her adventures through independent writing, and both reading and sharing her works. She even has her own blog: grandmadottie.blogspot.com. Check it out!

When asked what she would change if she could live life over, Dorothy pondered the question a moment before asserting she would have waited longer before starting a family after marrying Bill. She also would have stayed home with her children when they were young rather than working. A self-proclaimed obsessive-compulsive, her advice for younger generations is to “go with the flow” of life, or borrowing from John Lennon, to “let it be.” The value Dorothy places on maintaining a good sense of humor has served her well through the years, and she credits Bill with helping her keep things in perspective (including the stove and sink she’s been known to cuss at, but that’s another story…) And her secret to a life well lived? Chocolate, of course!

Where were YOU in 1902?

2010-07-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, it’s true. Born Rose Wyrsch, Rose Cliver entered this world in her family home on October 9, 1902. She was a middle child of thirteen, raised on a farm in the Bernal Heights neighborhood of San Francisco. Rose is the lone survivor among her siblings, has outlived one of her two children, and is the oldest known survivor of the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906.

Recalling her upbringing with amazing clarity, Rose boasts that she “wasn’t supposed to live even twelve years” because she was born a month early after her mother chased a family cow during her pregnancy. She also vividly remembers climbing the Bernal Heights hill with her father and siblings to gaze down at the burning City of San Francisco after the Great Quake.

The 1906 earthquake wasn’t as impactful on a three year old as you might expect. The World events which had the greatest impact on Rose were the World Wars: two of her brothers served in World War I and a third brother served in World War II. Her parents never talked about war or discussed politics at home, but she knew they worried about her brothers’ safety.

When you first meet a spry 107 year old, after reeling with amazement a logical first question is, “What’s the secret to living so well, so long?” Rose lived independently in San Francisco until 2008, and then with her son, Don and his wife in Santa Rosa until earlier this year, when she moved to a local residential care home. Without hesitation, Rose responded, “my Grandchildren kept me alive” (she helped raise one grandchild and one great-grandchild). After a little more digging, I’m also attributing an active lifestyle, along with never smoking or drinking, to Rose’s longevity. As for food, Rose says she’ll eat “whatever you give me!” Despite some hearing loss, at age 107 Rose can hear without aides and moves around quite well with a three-wheeled walker.

The Wyrsch’s were “strict but good people” from Switzerland, and Rose attended Catholic grammar school. She fondly remembers the “good old days” of picnics, parties, “kids to play with,” hiking, singing, and dancing. She also reminisced about her regular adventures taking the train from San Francisco to Marin County and “hiking a mountain” in Mill Valley before descending on a dance hall (Muir Woods?) She met her husband, Charles, on one of these hikes and they married two years later, in 1923. Rose admits her parents didn’t approve of their non-Catholic nuptials (Charles was Episcopalian) but they had a good life together until his death in 1985, and enjoyed traveling throughout the United States. Reflecting on her life, Rose has no regrets but does wish they kept their plans to travel to Germany with her sister.

At age 107, Rose Cliver still has an amazing amount of “get up and go,” and clearly knows who she is, what she wants, and what’s important in a life well lived!

Del Raby

2010-07-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

Through the years, Del Raby has demonstrated an inspiring commitment to the Boy Scouts of America, which celebrates its 100^th anniversary this year, and Rotary International, a business service organization which currently spans 200 countries and promotes “Service Above Self.” Del joined the Boy Scouts as soon as he was old enough, knew he wanted to be a Boy Scout executive by age 16, served a 31 year career with the organization, and has remained an active advocate for Scouting since his retirement in 1981. On May 16, Del will be presenting an Eagle Scout badge to the grandson of a man Del presented the same badge to at age 16. The boy’s great grandfather was also an Eagle Scout; one family’s tradition Del is honored to be a part of.

Demonstrating a similar commitment to Rotary, Del has been an active member of Rotary International for 40 years. He holds an impressive 100% attendance record, served as District Governor, and has been an active member of the Santa Rosa Sunrise Rotary Club since its founding in 1987.

Now 83, Del was born in Grass Valley, CA and grew up in Chico. His parents both worked for the Salvation Army, holding weekly services in halls and preaching on street corners during the 1920s and 30s. He was married to two very talented women: Mary, a vocalist he met through scouting at age 20 who died in 1970, and Harriet, an artist he met through both Rotary and Scouting who died in 1998. He has no children.

“Scrounging” with his father for Indian artifacts, followed by the pursuit of old bottles in dumps was one of Del’s fondest memories growing up. He credits his father and these experiences with planting the seeds for his post-retirement interest in archaeology and his proudest accomplishment: While at his first “dig” in Chile’s Patagonia, Del noticed a nearby boarding school had no hot water or showers and limited cooking supplies, so he approached the Santa Rosa Sunrise Rotary board of directors with what became the club’s first international project: bringing these services to the school in Patagonia.

The single world event which has left the most lasting impression on Del was World War II. He tried to enlist in 1944 and was initially turned down but was then drafted in February, 1945. Del was training in Okinawa, Japan during the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He recognizes and appreciates the fact that the course of his life may have been quite different if his wartime experience had been different.

Many people ponder the question “If you could live life over again, what would you do differently? Del would have “pushed” himself more within both Boy Scouts and Rotary to realize his goals. He wouldn’t want to be overly aggressive, but in retrospect sees missed opportunities to become more visible within each organization.

Del’s advice for today’s youth is to stay away from drugs, graduate from high school, pursue higher education, and plan your life around a career. He also strongly supports scouting because it builds character and leadership skills.

As for his secret to staying healthy and vibrant, Del credits the fact that he never smoked and is a light drinker: he didn’t have his first drink, a martini, until age 25. He also has many hobbies which keep his mind active, including crossword puzzles, computer word processing, collecting inkwells and Boy Scout memorabilia, extensive travel, and staying in contact with the many people he’s met through the years.

Social isolation a significant health issue

2009-03-07T09:51:00.001-08:00

Loneliness is not just a a social issue. It is a health issue that profoundly affects the elderly. “Humans are not wired to live alone,” say researchers. - Eloise Tweeten

Katherine Seligman, Special to The Chronicle

Monday, March 2, 2009

You may worry about your waistline or pack-a-day smoking habit, but psychologists say there is a less recognized yet significant health hazard facing Americans: loneliness.

They could have more friends than ever online but, on average, Americans have fewer intimates to confide in than they did a decade ago, according to one study. Another found that 20 percent of all individuals are, at any given time, unhappy because of social isolation, according to University of Chicago psychologist John Cacioppo. And, frankly, they'd rather not talk about it.

"People come into my office and say, 'I'm depressed or obsessive.' They don't say, 'I'm lonely,' " said Jacqueline Olds, a psychiatrist who teaches at Harvard Medical School and co-authored "The Lonely American: Drifting Apart in the Twenty-First Century." "People are so embarrassed about being lonely that no one admits it. Loneliness is stigmatized, even though everyone feels it at one time or another."

Olds wrote the book with her husband, Dr. Richard Schwartz, because, she said, she wanted to bring loneliness "out of the closet." The two were struck by findings from the General Social Survey (conducted by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago), showing that people reported having fewer intimate friends in 2004 than they had in 1985. When asked how many people they could confide in, the average number declined over that same time period from three to two. In 2004, almost a quarter of those surveyed said they had no one to discuss important matters with in the past six months; in 1985, only 7 percent were devoid of close confidantes.

"Loneliness has a terrible reputation in this country," Olds said. "It's a problem not just with a few people without social skills. It's not synonymous with being a loser."

Independent, busy people

Why are we growing lonelier? Olds said it's partly due to the American notion of independence that makes people not want to appear needy. They may feel alone, but they assume neighbors and friends are similarly busy and wouldn't want to be bothered.

She also points to what she calls "the cult of busyness." In an era of frantic pace and multitasking, people feel they should always be accomplishing something. They work long hours and then, in their limited spare time, they work more - catching up on e-mail, doing the laundry, going to the gym. Socializing often comes last.

But humans are not wired to live alone, researchers say. The impulse for social connection - though it is stronger in some people than others - is rooted in the basic urge to survive. The need is so great, says Cacioppo, that it is reflected in our neural wiring. Most neuroscientists agree, he said, that it was the need to process social cues that led to the expansion of the cortical mantle of the brain.

In "Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection," which he co-authored last year, he wrote, "In other words, it was the need to deal with other people that, in large part, made us who and what we are today."

Loneliness, Cacioppo explained in an interview, has more in common with hunger, thirst and pain than it does with mental illness. It signals that something is wrong and needs to be corrected.

Study of loneliness

The study of loneliness isn't new. David Riesman's "The Lonely Crowd," published in the early 1950s, raised questions about conformity and individuality following the industrial revolution. Riesman described how the growing middle class in America was increasingly populated by an emerging personality, which he called the "other-directed," a type that thrived in the corporate world. Other-directed people wanted to be well-liked, but formed superficial intimacies. They were, essentially, living alone in a crowd.

And psychologist Robert Putnam wrote in his 2000 book "Bowling Alone" about how Americans were growing more disconnected from not only family and friends but also from institutions - churches, civic groups, even bowling leagues - that used to afford community.

More recently, psychologists and other researchers have debated whether the Internet has made us lonelier. Some argue that access to online social networks helps people stay connected, particularly those who are physically isolated by disabilities or age. Others believe that having dozens of friends on social-networking Web sites like Facebook is not an alternative to real-life contact - and it creates a false sense of intimacy.

Researchers also recently have been examining the physical effects of loneliness. With the help of high-tech tools, neuroscientists now can examine how isolation affects the brain. Functional MRI's - those that allow a view of the live brain in action - show that lonely people have different neural responses to viewing positive images of other people.

Cacioppo's research has shown that lonely people have more "micro-awakenings" during sleep, leading to greater fatigue, which in turn can affect cognitive thinking. Other studies have found that people who feel lonely report more sources of stress in their lives, which can affect long-term health. Chronic stress is associated with higher risk of cardiovascular disease and immune system disorders.

How much contact?

What scientists can't tell you is exactly how much social contact you need. Most people pass through lonely phases at some point. So how can you tell if you're at risk? Psychologists have used an assessment called the UCLA Loneliness Scale, which consists of 20 questions, all dealing with perceived feelings of loneliness - from inquiries about feeling "in tune" with others to whether relationships seem meaningful or provide companionship and understanding.

People vary in how they perceive loneliness, Cacioppo said, depending on their need for connection. How a person experiences isolation is partly due to inherited temperament and partly to experience, he said. Some people are more sensitive to social isolation and therefore experience more stress from loneliness. Others may have less need for intimacy and may not suffer from having few intimate friends.

Often it's not the person who lives alone who's the loneliest. In fact, being alone is distinct from feeling lonely. Psychologists say that people with kids, partners and demanding jobs can feel isolated when they fail to heed their own needs for connection.

"Everybody thinks that socializing takes time and effort," Olds said. "But it pays off. Socializing is energizing."

Shebana Siegel, a San Francisco mother of two and director of philanthropic giving for Jewish Family and Children's Services, said she has to consciously keep in contact with friends. She uses her lunch hour to call friends and arrange meetings or walks with them.

"People are so busy and we're so busy," she said. "If you don't make the effort, you won't see your friends. It's the American way of life. I have friends from Brazil who come here and say they're so lonely."

Cacioppo's book offers a four-part plan (called EASE), although he concedes the steps are not easy. Loneliness can add to depression and decrease motivation to make connections. Cacioppo's plan includes extending yourself, making an action plan, selecting quality relationships and expecting the best from them.

He and others say that perhaps there is bit of an upside to the current economic crisis - that people will rediscover intimacy.

"People can't go out and they have to be home together," Cacioppo said. "It's nice to be able to depend on one another. If you're so wealthy that you don't have to, there is something you're missing."

How lonely are you?

These questions are among the 20 on the UCLA Loneliness Scale, the most widely used tool to measure feelings of social isolation. The scale was developed in 1978, and revised in 1996.

How often do you feel you lack companionship?

How often you do you feel that there is no one you can turn to?

How often do you feel that no one really knows you well?

How often do you feel that you have a lot in common with the people around you?

How often do you feel that there are people who really understand you?

How often do you feel that people are around you but not with you?

How often do you feel shy?

How often do you feel left out?

Getting connected

From Shakespeare to psychiatrists at Harvard Medical School, writers and researchers have considered loneliness and its implications for individuals, society and health. Here are a few of the titles:

"The Lonely Crowd: A Study of the Changing American Character," by David Riesman, Nathan Glazer and Reuel Denney (Yale University Press; $17.95 paperback)

"Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community," by Robert D. Putnam (Simon & Schuster; $16 paperback)

"Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection," by John T. Cacioppo and William Patrick (W.W. Norton & Co.; $25.95)

"The Lonely American: Drifting Apart in the Twenty-First Century," by Jacqueline Olds and Richard S. Schwartz (Beacon Press; $24.95)

"Loneliness as a Way of Life," by Thomas Dumm (Harvard University Press; $23.95)

Katherine Seligman is a San Francisco writer. E-mail her at datebookletters@sfchronicle.com.

What do we do with Rudy?

2009-03-02T21:19:00.001-08:00

Sooner or later many families have a conversation that they have been avoiding for months, sometimes years. Rudy had always been described as strong and independent. A product of the depression, he was a member of that generation that had endured financial ruin, genocides and world wars with a mixture of stoicism and resolve – an inner strength that everyone looked up to. But lately things were different. Grandpa Rudy, as he was known to the youngest in the family, seemed more and more frail – not surprising for a man in his late eighties. But what really had the family concerned was his forgetfulness. Not just forgetting the occasional name, the date, or odd face, but forgetting to eat, to take his medicine, to dress himself or sometimes, even to bathe. Clearly, despite Rudy’s fierce sense of independence that defined him, he was no longer in a position to safely care for himself but what could the family do? What would the family be willing to do?

This is an all too common scenario in our aging population. Placing an elderly loved one in assisted living is never an easy decision but the deepening recession and the collapse of the housing market has exposed seniors to unprecedented risks and uncertainties that compromise more than their lifestyle and their quality of life... it compromises their safety.

Assisted living costs for elders are not insignificant; ranging from $2,000 to $8,000 per month. Typically, they have been financed by the equity in the elder’s home, either by the outright sale of the property or by the vehicle of the reverse mortgage. But things are different now.

Let’s take our narrative a little further.

The family agrees that Rudy needs to be placed in assisted living. Some careful investigation revealed that the best matched alternatives will cost around $4,000 per month, or at minimum $48,000 per year. Despite a lifetime of hard work, some financial reverses, including the recent tanking of the Dow, have left Rudy in a vulnerable financial position. His savings only amounts to a little more than fourteen months of assisted living costs. Assuming, as we all hope, that Rudy survives longer than fourteen months, he (we?) will need to dip into the equity of his home in order to fund his living expenses.

It’s then that the realization hits everyone gathered around the kitchen table… everyone except Rudy that is. Rudy’s home was valued at a little over $560,000 two years ago. Today, that same home would likely sell for about $320,000. That’s a drop of more than $240,000. The family doesn’t appear to be prepared to accept the reality that $320,000 is the value of the home and not yesterday’s $560,000. “The market will bounce back,” someone says. “Yes, this is a temporary setback,” another agrees. But on one thing there is unspoken unanimity. This is not the time to consider selling Rudy’s home. “After all,” they say, “it’s in Rudy’s best interests to wait until the time is right.” Right? But in the back of some of the minds there is that ugly fleeting notion, like a darting shadow in the corner of the mind’s eye, that the equity in Rudy’s home represents a portion of an assumed inheritance.

“No. This isn’t the time to sell. So, now what do we do with Rudy?”

The recession has many victims. Many are hidden and helpless. Many are as close to us as our own aging parents. Who speaks for them?

My Journey Begins

2009-02-02T19:54:00.001-08:00

The personal challenges and successes I encountered while trying to navigate assisted living decisions with loved ones inspired me to provide this needed service to other elders and their families.

My family first encountered difficult care decisions after my father was hospitalized and we considered various options ranging from home modification and support services to assisted living.

Eloise's father, Kent and Aunt Ruth.

I then became the primary care coordinator for my aunt Ruth in Tucson, Arizona after Ruth fractured her pelvis and shoulder while living independently. I felt an initial sense of frustration and of being overwhelmed. Especially since I was faced with the challenges of physical distance, a relatively short decision making period, and no one to guide me. Fortunately, I eventually found a placement specialist who led me through the process and served as a role model for the level of service that I now provide as Tweeten Eldercare Advisors.