They’re beginning to talk on TV about the anniversary of Israel becoming a state. I can remember when that happened in 1948. Young people from all over the world traveled there and began to make the desert bloom. Life magazine wrote all about it. The young Jews formed kibbutzim, marked off sections of land, raised gardens and formed a communal society. They worked very hard building a new life. In today’s world, I’m sure one could Google the article and bring that period back. No doubt I’m wrong on some details.
There was a lot of nostalgia in the stories about Tourist No. 2 ferry in recent days. The article was concerned with her being in Bremerton where my daughter Robin lives. Robin’s dad Skip Hill worked aboard the ferry commandeered as a mine planter in the Columbia during World War II. She was kind of a tub at the time, so it was dangerous duty. Skip was stationed at Fort Stevens then as a staff sergeant in the harbor defenses of the Columbia. He mostly worked in communications in the radio shack. He was there when the Japanese sub fired on the fort. Those were thrilling and romantic days, scary, too. It was a time when I learned Morse code myself. We had a key so I was able to practice sending for a while, but never got proficient enough to copy except random letters. Sometimes I wish I’d gotten my ham radio license.You may have suspected that I’m one of those “stop the world; I want to get off” people. I never appreciated that they changed perhaps all the names of the code letters, for instance. What good did that do?
One evening when I took a walk, Roger Thompson was in his yard to give me a little advice. He said I should walk faster, ha. I also sort of met his neighbor’s dog Belize, who often barks as I go by. Belize, also known as “B,” likes to chase sticks and is fine if you get to know him. Roger also told me that some family on 11th Avenue had a bear in their yard one day. According to the proposed extension of Seaside’s growth boundaries farther into the hills, (egad) we may expect more cougars and other wild animals to come down and visit, too. Why do we need more growth anyway? There are lots of houses for sale. No one seems to be able to let well enough alone.
I was interested in Jorjett Strumme’s letter to the editor. In Depression times, sweeping the street before the beginning of the business day was what everyone did in front of his store. That was also the time when merchants exchanged a few words with each other.
Friday afternoon, Alvis Porter took me along to the ice cream social at the new food bank on N. Roosevelt. Specialty of the day was black cherry ice cream — really good with hot coffee. We arrived late so there weren’t many people but obviously they had served a lot of visitors. A duo of guitar-harmonica and bass playing western tunes pepped up the crowd. Except for too much wind blowing through, it was a nice, sunny time and the new food bank is a great addition to our services.
A fellow swiped a can of peaches in a grocery store and ended up in front of a judge. “How many peaches are in the can?” asked the judge. “Five” was his reply. “OK, that will be five months in jail for each piece of fruit or 25 months,” said the judge. “Wait a minute, judge,” offered his wife. “He stole a can of peas, too.”
When did an aileron become a flaperon? Or are they the same?