A Barer

2011-10-16T17:39:00.000-07:00

From the 1920s, this is B. Barer, the founding partner of B. Barer And Sons, and his wife Risa.

2011-06-14T12:31:00.000-07:00

The picture is of a young David Barer taken in a rented location across the street from the more recent location developed by B. Barer.

The picture may have been taken for some sort of promotion probably in the 1920's.

The sign reading Eastern Hide was in line with the custom of the time to put a geographical place in the name. Others being Alaska Junk, Medford Bargain House, Chicago Junk (Yakima, Wa.) and Pacific Hide and Fur.

You might note the name "Barer" in the right hand corner. B. Barer had built a loyal following who were reluctant to deal with the formal sounding Eastern Hide and that name was soon abandoned..

B. Barer suffered from asthma and was away to more asthma friendly climes frequently causing David to drop out of school and manage the business at a very young age.

The rifle is real. As David drove through the deserts of Eastern Washington visiting trappers, he would often see coyotes along the way.

The pelt had a value and there was also a bounty for ridding the area of a predator.

The problem was that the coyote would stare curiously as the vehicle stopped and the marksman prepared the gun but as soon as a round was clicked into the chamber the wary beast was gone.

2011-06-03T20:25:00.000-07:00

George Epstein as requested by Mike

It took me awhile to catch on. People often referred to the Epsteins as "your cousins".

Only when I noticed in an old city directory the firm named Barer & Epstein and asked some questions did I find that at the turn of the 20Th century Uncle Ike was married briefly to the matriarch of the Epstein family.

There were three surviving brothers, one died as a result of a childhood game that went awry and ended in tragedy.

They were in the recycling business in direct competition with our family recycling interests but after close of the business day we were friends.

I think the term Shakespeare used was "star crossed".

Louis, the oldest, was an ardent fisherman.

He was with a group of his fishing buddies in an isolated area of the Yukon dragging in the big ones when he apparently suffered a heart attack and was swept away by the swift flowing river that emptied into the Arctic.

The fact that native trackers could not find the body led to rumors that there might be some mystery involved. Even that the disappearance might have been staged. People in his party saw the body with his distinctive jacket being carried away by the wild river and were unable to help him in the wilderness.

Abe and George had a recycling business next door to Louis.

Abe married a nice young woman from Portland.

George remained a bachelor spending his after work hours at his office desk reading a magazine and chatting with passersby or lingering in a diner schmoozing with the waitresses.

He surprised everyone one day. He packed his valise and hopped a train for New York.

In the early days of network radio much of the programming came from New York and George was an avid listener so he knew what to do when he got there.
He attended Yankees games and in those days the "Brooklyn" Dodgers as well as the famous night spots.

What a wonderful adventure for a small town guy. He had stories to tell for years.

In the late 1960's Abe passed away and it was up to George to liquidate the business over a period of a couple of years.

Abe's wife, Violet, had been a proxy mom to George. She was was in a panic to find that after he put a final lock on the business door he disappeared.

No amount of tracing could find him.

Months went by and not a word.

Then the call came.

George, remembering his great time ten years before and telling no one again did the trip to New York.

Only, this time with dire results. On arrival he was mugged, stripped of his money and ID and left in an alley.

He was found by a policeman and shipped off to a hospital ward reserved for derelicts.

An examination revealed throat cancer and necessitated the removal of part of his tongue. For months he lingered in a coma.

As he recovered, he was able to convey the message that he wanted pad and paper.

Violet was contacted and rushed to New York to help him return home.

He lived on for a few years possibly a gift from the people who intended evil but may have saved his life by forcing him to the hospital,

2011-04-19T11:53:00.000-07:00

The Screamers

The media has been slicing and dicing Paul Allen's book. The spotlight is on passages concerning the tirades o Bill Gates.

Some years ago I belonged to a discussion group sponsored by Bellevue Community College through their senior outreach program.

We met in a building previously used as headquarters for Microsoft.

At one of our meetings a member of the group brought Ross Hunter as a guest speaker. Ross had been an early executive of the company who taken his packet of shares and retired at a very young age to pursue a life of public service.

Ross opened his presentation by wistfully stating that we were sitting in Bill Gates former office.

Steve Balmer had an office at the far end of the hall.

The two never used an intercom to address each other.

As Ross who officed between them would suspend all efforts to concentrate the two would carry on their discussion screaming back and forth across the corridor

2011-03-22T14:33:00.000-07:00

Bit once, my fault

As some articles were published on follow up of the Madoff thing, I recalled reading of the 1937 scheme by some senor members of the venerable nationwide pharmaceutical supply firm McKesson Robbins.

Remaining profitable during the depths of the Great Depression a decision was made to expand into Canada.

Several million dollars was "spent" setting up warehouses and sales offices. An additional millions followed for inventory.

An accountant traveling in Canada decided he would visit one of the facilities. He found a rented office with a secretary whose job was to transfer paperwork she received by envelope to envelopes mailed from Canada.

The property, inventory, and $9,000,ooo in receivables were were all part of a scheme.

Following the startling revelation, two new "McKesson standards" were incorporated in accounting audits:

1. All inventory must be physically counted preferably by a disinterested party.

2. Accounts receivable must be documented by confirmations of the owing parties.

Imagine my surprise in refreshing my mind via Internet to find that McKesson was again stung in 1999 when they purchased a company called HBO (not the cable company).

An auditor with Deloitte and Touche made a random call to a customer to confirm a $20,000,000 order.

It was not active.

The auditors found that in anticipation of the sale customers were offered cancelable orders and future orders were booked as in the bank to the tune of millions of dollars.

Bit twice?

What was it our ex president said about trust but verify?

2011-03-20T12:52:00.000-07:00

I guess it is not profound to say that life is a continual learning experience.

Jean recently purchased a 2010 Hundai based on a recommendation from nephew Sam. Jean and I are both happy with the choice.

The car features the current shtick, a key less ignition.

There is a slot in the dash for the remote but if you have it in your pocket it will do its job.

Last night we were invited to dinner at the Jackalope, a very upscale restaurant in Indio. Our friend Herb generously offered to drive us there in his 2010 car.

At the end of the evening Herb and I went to the valet stand to reclaim his vehicle while the ladies hovered in the lea of a wall to avoid the cold desert evening wind.

We waited and waited as parades of cars went by. One of the valets noticed our situation and went to look for the car.

As he walked back toward us, Herb reached in his pocket and produced the remote. Apparently, as long as the engine is running the remote does not have to be in the car but to start it must be there.

The first valet not being able to start the car went on to the next one without bothering to tell us.

So, please remember if your car has a key less start the dash slot is there for a reason.

On the other hand I think it may be possible to lock the car with the remote still in there.

2011-03-14T21:04:00.000-07:00

Everything old is new again

Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz

My friends all drive Porsches I must make amends.

June 10, 2011, I became the adoptive father of a two ton 1988, 560SL coupe.

It has three options, a fiberglass top, a manually operated convertible soft top, or the blue sky above me.

It came about in a rather strange manner. In the morning my dog Sparky and I walk in the neighborhood.

One of my neighbors had a dog named Tinker. Sparky generally avoids other dogs but he loved to romp with Tinker whose owner was a spry guy in his nineties.

A few days ago as we walked by the house he had his garage door open and visible inside was the red coupe.

He joked, "Would you like to buy it and named a ridiculously high price"

I responded that I would go home and get my checkbook but he withdrew the offer.

A friend suggested I make an offer more in line with the current value of the vehicle.

Another friend suggested I make it in the form of a letter. I posted the letter. Then began having buyer's remorse remembering the thing that dogs love to chase cars but what would they do if they caught one?

I caught one! Within days after I posted the the letter, the little man passed away and shortly after I received a call from the administrator of his estate informing me that I had bought the car.

Wednesday it goes to the shop to be detailed.

The car has appetite for 91 octane gas to feed its 200 plus horsepower on the other hand with less than 32,000 miles it was built to be more or less trouble free for 200,000 miles.

It is not considered a true classic but was a a popular fun car for the wealthy at prices that ran in the $60,000 bracket twenty years ago.

Now I just have to figure out what to do with it.

2011-03-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

Life in "the Desert"

Often when I tell people that I spend the winter n Rancho Mirage otherwise known as the Palm Springs area people ask, Do you play golf? Do you play tennis?

What do we do?

Of course one thing is the people. On one occasion at a luncheon my wife was seated next to a former singer who during his active career had been featured several times on the Ed Sullivan show.

At a small bet poker game the player next to me was a former governor of his state. Not that everyone is a star but most are people who lead an active life and have put aside their business suits or whatever uniforms they wore in exchange for the relaxed life we enjoy.

Early on I joined a discussion group. When I became a member we were climbing to to thirty participants. The next year I came back and the group had grown to sixty.

In most communities there is a constant quest for volunteers. With few exceptions here you put in a resume and wait.

Because people are retired or vacationing, there is an endless round of celebrities living in or passing through performing in various venues.

Two nights ago we attended a free program at the Rancho Mirage Public Library. The feature was a duo. Joel Hochberg who does award winning documentaries showed a seventeen minute documentary he had filmed of John Bayles, a concert pianist who normally plays forty concerts a year around the globe, who suffered a debilitating stroke two years ago.

Following the documentary John Bayles came onto the stage and continued the interview then he play complex melodies he had revised to be played with one hand. It was concert quality.

The new Rancho Mirage Library is limited to four hundred spectators. It was at its limit even after some became discouraged with the size of the crowd and left.

The next night the library featured the Yale Wiffenpoof Glee Club. Again a full house.

2011-02-27T21:07:00.000-08:00

Oscar Night

Just watched the Oscars. From a pure entertainment standpoint I'd opt for a Kiwanis convention.

I am glad they included a joke or two from Bob Hope.

2011-02-13T14:33:00.000-08:00

Partnership

My Uncle and I were business partners for twenty years.

At one point I suggested we have partnership agreement.

He told me this story about a mutual acquaintance.

Our friend was a young immigrant whose language whether in the parlor car or in the parlor was liberally sprinkled with profanity. His education
in the U. S. was limited.

How he became engaged to the daughter of a sophisticated upper middle class family was not part of the story.

The father of the bride not willing to see his spoiled daughter step down in status agreed to loan his son in law money for a business venture with the proviso that the bride's brother, an accountant be an equal partner.

Over the years the business prospered. The groom was the outside man and the brother in law tended to the financial end.

Then two things happened. The marriage soured and disagreement began the tear the partnership apart.

The bean counter turned down venture after venture as too risky.

Our guy finally said enough is enough. It is time to end our relationship.

Since you are challenging me, our partnership agreement states that you must come up with cash money within seventy two hours or
I have the option to buy you out.

In anticipation I have come up with the paperwork and here is the amount you will need.

Where to get the money? Several friends who had nice homes and cars admitted they owed far more than they had.

A wise client suggested he go to his banker.

The loan officer looked at the paperwork and then opened a filing cabinet
and extracted a file containing a stack of I. R. S. returns.

After a quick study he asked, "Don't you know that your partner is playing games with you? Believing you could not raise the money he has put the price far under the true value of your company. On the street they say that you have spunk. I will give you a cashier's check for this amount plus I hope you will use us for your day to day operation.

On being presented with the check the brother in law's jaw dropped.

I am sure the urbane accountant always made a living.

Our hero remarried a more down to earth wife and together they became multi-millionaires and the guys at the exclusive clubs thought his stream of "blue" language was cute.

2011-02-02T13:19:00.000-08:00

I have not studied the total effect of the various paragraphs of the new health insurance law.

I do know that a few years ago I had some CAT scans taken. Although I had given the proper information as to routing so that the bill was to be channeled through Group Health to get payment from Medicare, the hospital billedMedicare direct and it was rejected.

The bill was in the amount of $8000. After three phone calls over a period of several months in which I explained the drill in full and the person typed in to a computer and the subsequent callers could find no record, I received a call from a medical collection service.

I repeated my story. The lady at the collection service ask me to FAX a copy of my Group Health and Medicare cards.

Days later I received a notice from Group Health indicating that the bill had been Paid in Full in the amount of $1700.00. (What happened to the other $6300?)

Which brings up the disputed government insurance mandate.

On our visit to China the local tour guide was bemoaning the fact that when China had their basic comunist system health clinics were free. Now that partial Western capitalism has krept in there is a $2.50 co-pay.

I used the oportunity to ask him about the availability of health services in poor rural areas.

His quick response was as to government policy-

You sick? You die!

Are some of our legislators picking up on this?

2011-01-18T21:27:00.000-08:00

Yes we wore helmets then.

Whenever I watch football players scrambling for a fumbled football I remember my high school days.

The coach instructed us that under then current rules we could capture an opponents fumble but could not advance it down the field.

The drill was to grab the ball, tuck it in our tummy as we lie on the ground, and pull our knees into a fetal position.

As an attacking defensive lineman I rushed past the offensive blocker. While I looked for the runner he brushed by me. As he did so, the ball went squirting out behind him.

As coached, I raced after the ball and flung my self unto the ball face down clutching it in the prescribed manner.

Meanwhile the runner for some idiotic reason kept running without the ball surrounded by the rest of his team, the rest of my team, and the team of officials.

He ran about twenty yards before he was tackled. It would have been quite an advance had he had possession of the ball.

The officials summoned the yard markers down the field and suddenly became aware that the ball had disappeared.

It seemed an eternity as I lay in that cramped position before a stadium full of laughing fans until I felt a tap on my back from an official inquiring as to whether I had the ball.

2010-12-19T11:23:00.000-08:00

The Fighter

Saw the movie THE FIGHTER last night. What a great experience!

While it features some rock- em sock- em fight scenes, it is mainly about the life experiences of Mickey Ward a former welterweight boxing champion.

One of nine siblings in an Irish American family with a dominating mother and a laid back father he struggles to find his own identity.

The performance was followed by a Q and A featuring the real Mickey and the film's director David O. Russell.

Asked about his perception of the actors playing his family members. His answer was"scary".

The announcer at his Las Vegas fight was Jim Lampley. That is the the original voice tape of the fight that is incorporated into the film version with Mark Wahlberg portraying Mickey. Lampley acknowledged it was one of the most memorable fights he called.

As Jean entered the theatre she said to the man ahead of her, "I hear Boston I am from Revere. Of course it was "Irish Mickey Ward the pride of Lowell, Mass." eleven miles down the road.

They had a brief conversation.

2010-11-16T22:59:00.000-08:00

Dan says "Come Clean"

OK, now I can never run for public office.!
When I was at the University of Washington I took a course in Political Science.

We would have a quiz on the chapter assigned to be read.

Although I might have scanned the reading, I really didn't study deeply.

It was a blue book exam.

The fellow next to me would list in his blue book the eight or ten points the instructor required.

I would look over his shoulder and write a paragraph incorporating the points he had listed.

Invariably I received a higher grade than he did.

This in response to reading a a really cogent paper Dan wrote for a legal publication on composing an appeal advising lawyers not to just list the facts but to "tell a story using the facts."

2010-11-03T11:13:00.000-07:00

Reflecting on the passing of Cousin Jan Curran-

Cousin Janice came by her career as a reporter naturally. As a child she appointed herself spokesman for her more laid back brother, Stan. If someone would ask Stan how old are you little boy?, Jan would furnish his age before he could speak.

Every family has their inside laugh lines.

As my younger brother was three or four years old and going through the "no" stage, he refused to take a bath. My mother gave up and turned the job of disciplining over to my father.
My father appealing to Arnie's competitive spirit intoned, "Your Cousin Janice takes a shower EVERY day!"

Arnie jumped into the tub.

Each time Jan saw me she would report, "Tell Uncle Israel I had my shower today."

A few years ago in Rancho Mirage the columnist Helen Thomas was a featured speaker in a local series. The tickets were sold out immediately. The day of the talk I received a call from Jan asking me if my wife, Jean, would like attend with her.

I asked how she was able to get tickets at that late date. Her reply was, "I called Helen Thomas and told her that if she was speaking in the valley I wanted a ticket and I better have one for Todd as well. Ms. Thomas said that they would be at Will Call. Todd had a conflicting meeting so Jean and Jan were at the lecture and met with the scourge of presidents after to hear the latest dirt from the Beltway that couldn't be included in the presentation.

What an outstanding lady!

2010-10-20T10:05:00.000-07:00

What is in a name?

Soon after I moved to this area I was invited by a friend to join a breakfast group of Jewish seniors who met at The Kirkland Pancake House.

Among them was Danny Rich, a quite affable and verbose participant in all discussions.

In the course of things of things it was revealed that Danny was a Catholic of Italian descent'

The question was how did he get affiliated with that group.

Coming to America his family had Americanized their name from Ricci to Rich.

This caused dating problems in college where Italian Catholic girls avoided dating him assuming from his name that he was Jewish and not wanting to risk a serious relationship outside of their community.

Jewish girls would date him drawing back for the same reason when they found his backround.

This situation seemed to prevail with male friends so he moved mainly with Jewish groups.

He did find a nice Italian American Catholic girl to marry.

I write this as I just discovered that Danny, the outgoing guy, has passed away.

2010-10-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

Hi Tech Dental

Went to the Endodentist today for surgery.

While in the chair for an hour, I was thinking of my father.

In the days before dental equipment makers acknowledged that the heat from the drilling caused most of the pain and added a waterspray and asperator to the process tooth repair was an ordeal.

Adding a coolant alowed the dentist to use a high speed drill that helped both the dentist and the patient and eliminated the unsightly and unsanitary "spit bowl".

After one of my first trips to the office I asked Dad why the radio played so loud. He assured me that it was so
the waiting patients could not hear the guy in the chair screaming.

On a more serious note Dad told me about his memories of dental care in his boyhood. It was non existant. The only fallback he had for a toothache was topoke a hole in the ticking of his mattress and make a small wad of the cotton filling and place it in the cavity

2010-10-15T13:34:00.000-07:00

From Steve's Bar Mitzvah, my children, Jeanie, Jeanie's family and myself.

2010-10-14T22:03:00.000-07:00

Dad loved B movies.

In the days when guests came to our home and lit up their cigars and pipes and before home air condition became popular dad's asthma would force him to leave the house and head for the air conditioned Roxy theater.

Often he would apply lines from a movie to a situation.

In one movie the beloved coach of a small college football team was being honored after another loosing season.

The college president praised the long service of the man and in the course of his speech presented the venerable mentor a suitcase.

As he left the mike he wispered, you are going to need this. You are fired!

The Godfather had his, "I made an offer he couldn't refuse."

Dad's euphemism was, "He was handed a suitcase."

2010-08-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

Philip of Macedonia built an army he used to conquer city-states in Macedonia and make forays into neighboring Greece.

Alexander, his son saw the trained military machine as a weapon to conquer the world. With his mother's help he assumed command at the age of eighteen. His army stormed into Greece overrunning city after city including undefended Athens where he enlisted Aristotle as his mentor.

Sparta was suposed to have a world class army. Alexander humbled the Spartans like Grant took Richmond.

Wheeling across the Dardenelles Alexander was not above using other tactics. He approached one heavily defended city that his advisers said would take months to subdue.

He arranged a meet with the ruler who turned out to be the Queen. He brought lavish presents. There was a quiet dinner, a glass of wine.

In the morning Alexander walked out with keyes to the city gates.

His most famous exploit was the "Gordian Knot".
The ruler of this Country had willed that anyone who could undue a very complicated knot in a rope would be the new ruler.

Many wise and gifted men had examined the knot and given up.

Alexander viewed the knot for several minutes. He grabbed his sword and with one mighty slash severed the knot asnd procaimed himself ruler.

In the 1970's at BB&S we had a running question. The parts runner for a food processing plant arrived each working day to pick up steel and parts. The driver wore a thin white T shirt and had a short haircut with the characteristics of a male but the full lips and soft cheeks
were suggestive of a female. Voice pitch gave no clue.

Over the summer arguments went on. A he or a she?

As the food processing season waned and the driver would possibly laid off the question became more intense.

One day as I prepared an invoice for the day's pick-up, Uncle Dave could stand it no more. He strode up behind me and said. Don't forget to to have THE BOY sign the invoice.

I am a GIRL!

The problem was solved.

2010-04-07T14:42:00.000-07:00

Mishpocha

From time to time I check my Facebook account.

This time there was a message from Steven Barer. I reread it . Of course my son is Steven Barer but the photo was someone else.

I read once more. This Steven Barer is the son of Don Barer.

I first met Don in Palm Springs. I was buying a pair of pants in a men's store. I handed the clerk
my VISA card. He stared at it and muttered this can't be right.

I asked him what the matter was and he replied that my last name was the same as his.

As we talked, I informed him that I had met his father, Ben. Ben was a contemporary of my father, in fact a cousin. He had emigrated from Europe and had some anecdotes about my grandparents' life there life there.

My Aunt Sophie told me that when the family landed at Ellis Island they took a ferry to New Jersey to visit Ben Barer's family. One of the daughters took the young Sophie to a hairdresser and clothing shopping to convert her into an American flapper

2010-03-31T16:57:00.000-07:00

Recognizing Israel

The other night I was discussing with my friend Leon about people were extremely committed to causes.

Leon was for many years in the furniture business. I asked him if he had known a man named Sam Tarshis?

He thought for a moment then smiled and said, "That is a name out of the past. I bought a line of furniture from Sam."

I then realized how long ago I knew him.

In the late 1940's Sam Tarshis used to come to Walla Walla as a fervent supporter of the United Jewish Appeal. He would call and request a meeting at the synagogue and a few devoted members would show up.

The message was always that no money was to be collected but everybody knew enough to bring their checkbooks.

There was always an inspirational talk. This one I remember in particular.

After defeating several Arab armies with few arms and shear willpower, Israel had declared itself a nation.

It was urgent that the fledgling government be accorded official recognition by the powers of the world. Russia immediately recognized Israel as defacto the new nation.

The U.S. dependent on Arab oil was not so sure.

Mr. Tarshis received a call from contacts in Washington, D. C. charging him with the task of breaking a deadlock in the senate by delivering physically and with a positive vote the senator from the state of Washington, Harry P. Cain.

Senator Cain was speaker at an American Legion picnic at a park in a small suburb of Tacoma.

Sam quickly drove there and found the Senator who had finished his speech and had already made several visits to the beer keg and was just a bit tipsy.

Not to be held back Sam pulled him away from swapping war stories with his World War II buddies and began to explain the seriousness of his visit.

Senator, you are devoted to stopping the Soviet Union from spreading Communism throughout the world. Do you realize that Moscow has recognized the new government of Israel and the U. S. has not!

Moscow has tentacles now in Egypt, Syria, and Iraq and the premier of Iran has announced that he will make a pact with Russia on oil. Do you want to see a nation that should be pro America be sucked into the Communist orbit?

Of course there was a demurer that his staff would have to gather information but Sam insisted there was no time the vote would be taken in a matter of hours.

Sam then offered this solution. He asked if there was someone whose advise he trusted.

The only one who came to mind was Louis B. Mayer the head of Metro Goldwyn Mayer movie studios. Cain had met him in the course of Senate anti communist hearings. He was Jewish and his anti communist feelings were indisputable.

Long before the days of cell phones Sam commandeered the only phone booth available at the park. Firmly holding the arm of his charge who was repeatedly being summoned back for another round by his buddies he dialed Washington and disclosed his problem.

He was told to hang up and stand by. The Country Western band played loudly in the back round while a couple of dozen off key voices tried to harmonize with the vocalist.

The senator tried to shake himself loose and rejoin the crowd but at that point the phone in the booth rang.

Mayer here!

Sam handed the phone over saying Mr. Mayer would like to talk to you.

After a short conversation Senator Cain said I must get back to Washington and vote for the recognition of Israel!

Sam threw him into the car and raced to the airport insuring that the man was on the first connection to Washington as a VIP.

Actually, recognition was secured by two votes but it is always important to have a spare.

Harry Cain was defeated in the next election by Warren Magnusen, also a good friend to Israel.

The Jewish community never forgot Harry Cain. He was often a requested speaker at Jewish functions. For a fee of course.

2010-03-23T16:31:00.000-07:00

Bishop of Walla Walla?

In 1848 the Holy See in Rome created the Diocese of Walla Walla and sent Father Blanchet to supervise the priests ministering to the religious needs of the Catholics of the region.

In those days Walla Walla was the jumping off place for people heading East to Idaho and Montana.
Later, as the rail era began and Walla Walla was bypassed by the mainline carriers, Spokane became the major city East of the mountains.

When a diocese of Spokane was formed Walla Walla Was incorporated into that organization.

The Bishop of Walla Walla became a Titular Office.

Apparently in the twenty century old Vatican machinery it is easier to create a diocese than to appoint a bishop.

I was visiting Washington, D.C. in 1984 when I saw a headline proclaiming the temporary head of the new diocese as the Bishop of Walla Walla. The title had bee dusted off for the occasion and awarded to Father Antonio Marino.

This same device was also used in Atlanta when a new diocese was formed there without a duly appointed full time Bishop.

Apparently the current Bishop of Walla Walla is Father Rozanski. I am not sure whether he has a job or is sitting on the bench.

2010-03-17T14:43:00.000-07:00

A virtual Barer or Baer

A man in Texas has been searching for an old railroad to reproduce.

He settled on the Walla Walla Walla Valley Railroad, a fourteen mile interurban that carried passengers and freight between Walla Walla and Milton Freewater, Oregon, from early in the century.

Although, regular passenger service was suspended in 1931, my late wife told me that she used the line to get to her part time job packing fruit at Stadelman's state line packing plant during her high school years.

I accessed the man's site by googling "a virtual Walla Walla Valley Railway" There are some historical photos plus there are pictures of his recreations of shippers along the road. One is Baer and Sons scrap metal.

I sent him an e-mail suggesting he correct the spelling but have not heard back from him.

B. Barer and Sons founded as Isaac Barer Company about 1905 and carried on as B. Barer Eastern Hide and Junk from 1917 through 1936 when it when it adopted its current name with an Inc. added along the way may have been dissolved but it lives on in the virtual world.

2010-03-12T10:16:00.000-08:00

A story for our time

During World War II patriotic American business executives volunteered to serve on government boards and committees full time. Their compensation, one dollar per year.

They were known as "dollar a year men."

George, a vice president of a large manufacturing company, was one of those men.

In charge of designing and retooling plants to switch from consumer type goods to the necessities of an all out war became a 24/7 obligation to this inspired man.

He began drinking his meals. The day he saw a replacement at his desk he suffered a major breakdown. Leaving the hospital, he found that his wife had locked him out of his expensive apartment.

On the street he begged money or did day labor jobs becoming more unkempt and emaciated.

At his lowest he went by his old residence. There was something in the mailbox. Reaching in he retrieved the government check for one dollar.

In those days he could get his suit cleaned and pressed for one dollar. He went to the Salvation Army where he was offered a breakfast, shave, and shower.

Later he visited his old employer where he was greeted as a returning hero and told his job had been held for him. Soon he was back into his routine as a highly paid executive.

He sent his story to Readers Digest to inspire others who were temporarily down and out.

2010-03-09T10:04:00.000-08:00

Jerry Brown is running for political office!

So what else is new?

Well, Mike reminded me of an incident involving Jerry's dad, Governor Pat Brown and Mike's mother.

Those were the days of our deep involvement in politics. We went to meetings and conventions and marched in rallies. It was an interesting time I being involved in the Democratic party and most of my customers and friends being committed Republicans.

I think it was a fund raiser for Hubert Humphrey in Seattle. We were tromping through the Olympic Hotel sampling the food and drink in the various reception rooms. Deciding to move on we we approached the doorway. Coming toward us cocktail in hand was the California governor. He turned for a moment to comment to a member of his party and SLOSH iced, alcohol, and water down the front of Jeannie's party dress.

Apologies and don't worries followed and I thought that was the end of it.

A year later we attended Ann and Andy's wedding reception in Los Angeles. Only about 400 of their closest friend were there.

Jeannie spotted Pat Brown across the room. She grabbed my hand saying I have to talk to him. As we approached she reminded him that she had been the victim in the spilled drink incident. I blanched but he took it in good spirits and we ended up having a conversation about the upcoming election that he eventually won while our Washington incumbent lost.

2010-02-14T14:00:00.000-08:00

Two men about town.
Yes, that is my friend David and I about 60 years ago. Thing is, when I am in Kirkland we still walk together every Friday but not in business suits

2010-02-13T19:42:00.000-08:00

2010-02-13T18:34:00.000-08:00

Live Long Enough

Not long after I returned from the service and my time in California I read in the Letters To the Editor department of the local newspaper a letter from an irate lady bemoaning the fact that "We" have built the community and the Jews have moved in.

Of course my family was in the fourth generation in the town and my interest in the participation of Jews in the community has abides to this date.

In the early days of the town it was the jumping off place for miners, herders and anyone heading for northrtn Idaho and Montana. Many scions of San Fancisco Jewish families came to W. W.

The first department store in the state and for many years the longest surviving one was started by a Jewish family who also participated in forming a major bank and newspaper.

Now I get an e-mail asking for information about a pioneer family in the area, a very prominent one. The writer says he is doing a geneology study and finds that this family has hidden its Jewish origins.

2010-02-02T14:49:00.000-08:00

Con Men

Think Madoff was a cool cookie!

Did you ever see the late movie based on the story of a young miner who showed up a at a tavern that was a community gathering place for coal miners in a small mining town in Pennsylvania in the late 1800's.

He was looking for work in the mine and a place to stay. A genial man bought him a drink and offered him room and board at his house.

The next day the host invited the young man to join along with his sons the trek to the the mine shaft. A word to the Foreman and the new man was hired.

Over weeks and months at the tavern and at home the discussion often revolved about the the lousy unsafe working conditions, the low pay, and the firing of workers on a whim.

Finally the stranger was invited to a meeting. A union was being formed. A strike was to be held and maintained until management met basic requirements.

The young man had earned his stripes as a miner and was invited to be on a steering committee planning the strike along with his host family.

He was also "keeping company" with the daughter of the house.

On the day of the strike a swarm of Pinkerton strike breakers appeared and swiftly arrested the ringleaders.

At their trial the interloper was not among them. In fact, now dressed as a Pinkerton agent he was testifying for the prosecution pointing out his supposed benefactors as the key parties in the strike plan.

They were meted out prison sentences.

He married the young lady, now there was a con-man, and moved to Colorado where he again went undercover at a mine.

Prior to the coup bringing Saddam Husein to power Iraq much as it is now was a political quagmire with governments rising and falling with predictable regularity.

An attempt at stability boiled down to four men the most likely was a wealthy merchant.

Several years before he had migrated, the scion of an influential family that had lived in Brazil for a few generations, he had opted to return to the land of his fore bearers.

As his investments increased and began to bear fruit, he also began to be accepted into the higher levels of Iraqi society and into the confidence of the movers and shakers of the country.

He could well have been the Iraqi head of state.

Unfortunately, Soviet military monitors were getting the evidence of a clandestine radio transmission.

To their astonishment the source was traced to the home of our guy. He was found in his attic making a routine report to Tel Aviv.

He was an Israeli Mossad officer on assignment.

2010-01-14T10:05:00.000-08:00

Palm Springs International Film Festival

Last night we saw a very moving film entitled "Broken Promise". The story of Martin Friedman who through a number of serendipitous events survived a concentration camp and escaped to join Slovak partisans.

His best buddy and chess partner along with the other members were fiercely anti Semitic and in one sequence executed one of their own mainly because he was Jewish.

Most of his large family perished in the camps.

The promise made was that the family gathered for a joyous Bar Mitzvah in 1938 Czechoslovakia would gather again at the parents' home again in 1939.

By that time the family was dispersed and some had perished.

The highlight of the evening was the appearance of Martin Friedman, the author and survivor on the stage.

His message was that no matter how tranquil your life seems always be vigilant of your freedoms.

It brought to mind the ongoing greeting between my father and uncle.

Uncle: What's new?

Dad:(in Yiddish) Somewhere Jews are being persecuted.

Uncle:(ironically) So, What's new?

2009-12-25T15:41:00.000-08:00

The Recession is Over

Recalling the wisdom of grandfather B. In the 1930's with recession rampant the U. S. government under Pres. Herbert Hoover decided to rein in spending thereby greasing the skid into The Great Depression.

In many communities with plants shut down and farmers unable to sell their produce people simply ran out of money.

On every block there was a mom and pop grocery and they kept was called a "tab". The customer could buy essentials and pay as a day job or a check from a more prosperous relative was available.

A customer came in to Chestnut Street Corner Grocery one day and payed his account in full.

A few weeks later the owner encountered him on the street. I haven't see you for a while he noted.

I have a good job now. I buy my groceries at the supermarket for cash.

But why did you desert me?

Oh! Do you sell for cash too?

2009-12-15T18:54:00.000-08:00

There have been many cartoons and gags about the age of magazines in doctor's waiting rooms.

Recently Jean drove a friend to the new and beautiful waiting room at the emergency room at Eisenhower Hospital.

It is a far cry from the old one where you might sit for an indefinite time next to someone squirming with a bruised limb or coughing from an unknown malady.

For those familiar, I was shocked last year that upon entering I was ushered immediately into a triage room.

Jean had called me to explain she might be there for some time so I decided to sit with her.

On the low table was a copy of the magazine, Palm Springs Life.

Flipping through I glanced at the obligatory page of the movers and shakers at a charity costume gathering.

There dressed in western garb with toy six-guns at her sides was cousin Jan.

Knowing that Jan had moved from the valley a few years ago, I checked the date.

I don't remember the exact date. I thought of tearing out the page but opted not to deface the magazine.

Unbelievably, the magazine was over twenty years old.

I don't know if there is a Guinness category. Should I have occasion to be there again in a few years and the magazine is still there I might submit it.

My suspicion is that they have a supply in the basement and by then we will be into the 90's editions.

2009-11-23T22:20:00.000-08:00

She has been called the First Jewish Superstar.

She was a poet, a writer,a painter, an activist in Jewish causes.

Her name was Adah Isaacs Menken.

She was born in 1836 and died in Paris at the age of 33 suffering from tuberculosis and peritonitis a rabbi at her side

Married to Menken in Texas the couple moved to Cincinnati to be closer to the center of the fledgling Reform Movement of Judaism. She wrote extensively of the plight of Jews in The Ottoman Empire of Turkey.

After the death of her infant she tired of domestic life and she and Menken were divorced.

She became an entertainer and eventually gravitated to San Francisco where she was discovered by a theatre owner and cast in the lead of the popular play Mazeppa.

A key scene involved the lead character being captured by brigands and stripped naked then breaking away on a fiery steed and galloping across the stage onto a ramp built in the center of the auditorium. Usually a dummy was used but Menken conceived the idea of riding the horse herself dressed in a skin colored body suit.

When the stunt became known, the righteous people of San Francisco were outraged but on opening night all the "cool people" were there. The women in their carriages dressed to the nines and the men in their top hats and flowing capes. The play was a sell out for months. Adah was the darling of the artsy set and is reputed to have had affairs with several including the author Brett Harte.

She took the play to New York and toured the country her many affairs no secret. News of her naughty behavior preceded her fanned by her advance man who was instructed to place as many pictures of her in Main Street storefronts as he could.

After the furor in the U. S. she moved on to London and the U.K. using the same Madonalike tactics and then on to Paris where she befriended George Sands and her group and was rumored to have had an affair with Alexander Dumas.

I mentioned her sad early death but her birth remained shrouded in a variety of tales she spread.

The fact established much later in 1938 by a researcher was that she was born in New Orleans. Her mother was a Creole (of mixed race) and her father was a free African American known to be an intellectual.

It was said that she converted from a Catholic birth but she maintained she was born the first Jewish Superstar.

2009-10-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

Re Previous post

Saw the Mohs specialist today who informed me that Hoxsey's paste is no longer used. Patients complained that it caused to much irritation.

I will be going in for a day surgery on October 23rd to remove a basal cell cancer on the upper arch of my left outer ear.

This is a localized cancer that does not spread through the body but if not treated will continue to grow in the area it occupies.

There will be a small pit remaining where the affected tissue is removed.

If it proves too distracting to onlookers, I can have it repaired with plastic surgery.

Thanks to the doctors at Group Health who caught this early and to Medicare who will pay most of the bill.

2009-10-13T21:56:00.000-07:00

In the 1940's as a 15 year old I worked summers at B. B. & S. under the tutelage of my mentor, Mr. Henderson.

Several lessons were dedicated to the stupidity of medical doctors who refused to acknowledge the genius of Harry Hoxsey, the lay doctor, former coal miner and insurance salesman, who advertised "Dr. Hoxsey's Cure for Cancer."

Hoxsey started his clinic in 1920 with a "sure cure" for any kind of cancer based on a handed down story about a horse that developed an ulcer. The animal was pastured in a field containing certain herbs. In time, the horse cured itself.

Hoxsey recreated a mixture of those herbs and teaming up with a radio announcer advertised to the world he could cure any sort of cancer.

Although he did no actual testing and tests by medical labs showed that internal use could make a patient extremely ill and in some cases cause death, by 1950 he was treating 8,000 patients a year with a revenue of $1,800,000.

A Canadian study showed that many of his "cures" did not show cancer symptoms in the first place and that a high percentage of his patients died of cancer after treatment.

He sued the AMA for slander and won. The judge awarded him $2. ruling that because most of Hoxsey's advertising was based on the idea that the AMA was persecuting him because they knew he was right and they were wrong he had suffered no monetary loss.

The Hoxsey case became a cause celebre with the top right-wing agitators of the day. Apparently Mr. Henderson subscribed to a right wing news letter and felt Mr. Hoxsey's pain and possibly sent a dollar to help the multimillionaire, Hoxsey, in his fight.

Tonight I was doing some research on treatment of basal cell cancer on the ear by the Mohs method. I was surprised to find that part of the treatment was the removal of cancerous cells using a caustic substance derived from some of the herbs used in Hoxsey's magic cure.

Well, Mr. Henderson, a lot of big lies are based on small truths.

2009-10-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

Mike posted my picture that was taken a few years ago next to a 1929 Franklin ragtop. It is not my brother's but similar. It came into the world the same year I did.

My wife put together a great 80th birthday party for me at Anthony's Homeport in Kirkland. The staff there did a job far beyond the ordinary. With forty guests including those from California and Eastern Washington as well as locals, it was a night to remember.

My boys gave me a thoughtful present, an Amazon Kindle, the adjustable size print is perfect for my diplopia.

I was just listening to a local rabble rousing talk show host rail against a possible state tax hike in these troubled times. I don't like taxes any more than the next guy but it brought to mind a story Grandfather B told me.

On arriving in this country he had worked in Philadelphia where members of his family had settled. He then migrated West where other members of his family resided in Walla Walla.

In 1921 he returned to Europe to rescue his family. On his return he stopped in Philadelphia.

Looking up an old friend he was appalled that his formerly prosperous friend was obviously having financial problems.

It seems that after WWI a brief recession had undermined the value of the scrap metal he collected door to door with his horse drawn wagon.

He said he loved his old pal but things got so bad he had to retrench. To be kind to the horse he cut it's food ration by half each week and you know what? The ungrateful animal died. The man did not have money to buy another.

2009-09-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

2009-09-21T16:47:00.000-07:00

Grandfather B suffered from a bad back.

Years of lifting six foot long two hundred pound wool bags had left its mark. He wore a back brace corset to ease the pain.

In the days before Valium and Advil the only possible help was surgery. Even more "iffy" in the early 1940's than now.

Our local doctor recomended a young professor of neurosurgery at Oregon University Medical school.

Grandfather decided that for a delicate operation such as this he wanted the "best" so he wrote to family members in Philadelphia asking them to make inquiries.

The answer came back. Don't come here. You have the "best" in your own back yard at the University of Oregon Medical School.

Incidently, this physician operated successfully on Aunt Dorothy about 1960 and with a protege on my late wife in 1974. He had been consulted and was on standby when JFK was shot in Dallas.

2009-09-16T18:27:00.000-07:00

In the attack on the Health Bill the question of the status of aliens really seems to be bugging a lot of people.

Our foreman at B.B & S. was Mr. Henderson who passed away in 1959. Mr. H. had worked for my grandfather in Walla Walla. Grandfather retired in 1939. He went on to work for grandfather's successors.

I know from conversations with him that he had worked for others in the area prior to working for my grandfather so he was living in the area for forty to fifty years

He owned a home. His two sons worked their way through a private college. He paid all taxes required.

He was a Canadian citizen.

I found this to be true when he complained about having to register as a resident alien at the post office every January.

He said he was born a Canadian and felt that that was where his citizenship should be.

Is this the type of person the naysayers are afraid of.

Also a concern, I remember reading Edgar Allen Poe's Mask of the Red Death. In this story all of the Elite of the country gathered in the palace to be safe from a plague.

The unworthy were left outside to suffer and die.

To celebrate this brilliant plan a masked ball was held. At midnite when they unmasked the contageous had joined the party and all were exposed.

2009-08-28T15:22:00.000-07:00

Tom-----?

I am trying to remember the Russian expression my father used to use for a non- sequiter.

A Russian peasant walked in to a bar and ordered a vodka. Tossing that down he ordered another and another

He exclaimed to the bartender, "You aren't refilling my glass to the top!"

The phrase translates. "Well, of course,because you are leaving some in the bottom.

2009-08-23T15:09:00.000-07:00

Back from Baltic cruise.

This is the one that Jean and I were to take last year when I was diagnosed with pneumonia and had to cancel.

This time there was a bonus package of six days in the Norwegian Fjords. The scenery in Norway is spectacular. The cities of Bergen and Oslo were showing their summertime charm.

At Flam we boarded a train up the mountain via a series of switchbacks transferred to another train that paused beside a cascading waterfall as we dismounted the train a loudspeaker began blasting music as a troll, actually three women dressed alike, danced at various levels in the mist.

We ate lunch at a village inn high in the mountains and then boarded a bus for a breathtaking descent on a one way road down the mountain.

In Estonia five cruise ships called the same day so we shared the small village square with five thousand other tourists.

There was some question as to whether we should take the three hour bus trip into Berlin but we did. AS cars zipped past out bus on the way in I assumed we were going about forty miles per hour actually we were doing a steady sixty. There is no speed limit for cars on the Autobahn.

We saw checkpoint Charlie and what is left of the Berlin Wall. Our guide who lived in the Russian zone before unification spoke about life in that era but little about WWII.

Two day in St. Petersberg were almost like a forced march. WE did a bus tour of the city. In the afternoon we went through the Hermitage which is spectacular. Prior to WWII the opulent reminders of czarist opulence and disregard for the masses were allowed to disintegrate. The Nazis set fire to them.

Many of the art treasures were buried in vaults on the grounds. The Germans searched for them because where ever they went they stole anything of value. Only after the war did the docents unlock the vaults and the palaces are being restored room by room to the delight of thousands of foreign and domestic tourists.

In the evening we attended a show of Russian dancers by an accomplished troupe.

The next day was a bus trip to Peterhof, the summer palace. Spectacular on its own it featured the restored gardens that rival anything I have seen on six continents.

I have rambled on and will skip my reminisces of charming Amsterdam delghful Oslo and cosmopolitan Copenhagen.

2009-05-20T09:30:00.000-07:00

Mike called a couple of days ago to report his concern about his nephew, Ethan.

Playing in the catcher position in a grade school baseball game, Ethan threw off his protective mask to field a throw as a base runner raced toward home plate. The errant toss missed his outstretched mitt and hit him dirctly in the head.

A quick run to the emergency room found him groggy but released as fit.

Mike asked me to report on an experience I had in high school football.

My father was not a football fan. My mother urged him to come to a game to support my efforts as a reserve guard on the Wa Hi Blue Devils team.

The assistant coach called my name and told me to "warm up". I did wind sprints up and down the sidelines for several minutes. I stopped. Looked to the coach. No sign. I continued my exercises.

Finally the nod came to enter the game. I raced to the point where the referee was placing the ball. It much further than it appeared from the sidelines and as I ran my asthma kicked in and I was in great fear I couldn't get there but I did.

We were in defense and I began chasing their runners across the field. As I closed in on one hapless ball carrier another tackler grabbed him. In my exuberance I flung myself to secure the tackle just as the whistle blew.

The young man had the wind knocked out and lay motionless on the ground as the opposing team coaches ran out to aid him.

The referee gave me a warning about late hits and an opposing player said, "You are next."

He was right. On the next play it seems that eleven young athletes of the opposing team attacked me. I was carried half conscious from the field. I still have a scar on my face.

My father ran out of the stadium vowing never watch me get mauled in a game again,

2009-05-12T21:24:00.000-07:00

Crazy Icebox

Grandfather B. had thought about settling in Philadelphia after rescuing his family in Europe after World War I but a recession had gripped the country and he decided to return to Walla.

While living alone, a room at a boarding house was O.K. but now as a family of five Grandfather needed more and permanent space. 28 West Chestnut was the answer.

A large white two story frame at the corner of Third and Chestnut. Four bedrooms, a bath, and a storeroom upstairs and bedroom, half bath with laundry tubs, kitchen, breakfast room, formal dining room and parlor on the main floor. Sitting on an elevated corner lot it is still quite impressive.

Quite by accident I found an old telephone book that indicated the name of the previous owner.
Time has erased his name from my mind. I did some research into his back round and discovered that he had been a "49er" but had come up empty handed in California and South America but had accumulated enough wealth in Australia to set himself up in the residential contracting business in the growing town of Walla Walla.

Apparently he had passed on a the purchase was made from his heirs.

One of the features of the house was a screened in back porch. There stood the majestic wooden icebox, a place to protect perishables from the summer heat. The iceman called on frequent rounds to refresh the melting blocks of ice a quiet sentinel standing guard just outside the kitchen door.

Just as progress dictated that the copper boiler and wooden paddle give way to the Thor washing machine with attached wringer, a sleek white electric refrigerator replaced the ever dripping ice box.

When her daughter asked her, "Mom, what do you think of your new convenience?'

The answer was, "The motor goes on the motor goes off, the motor goes on the motor goes off. What a crazy icebox!" and for many years that was a family laugh line

2009-05-05T16:24:00.000-07:00

Read Dan's blog on the "word".

Grandfather G.s idol was revolutionary war Admiral A. Philip Levy. In fact he chose Philip for his son's name.

One of Admiral Levy's legacies is that he holds to this day the record of receiving the most courts martial of any officer in the history of the U. S. Navy but that is another story.

He campaigned vigorously to abolish flogging in the service.

It was common in those days that after extended time at sea the sailors would be paid and given shore liberty.

Typically they would head for a waterfront tavern where a comely lady would invite one to her quarters. Once there, a potion known as a "Mickey Finn" would be added to his drink and after a confederate ransacked his pockets, he would be dumped into the alley to sleep it off.

The next morning the "wronged" lady and her confederate would present the "bill" to the ship's officer. The payment with the officer getting a bit of a kickback would be charged to the seaman's pay account plus he would be assessed a certain number of lashes with a whip.

The entry in the punishment book would be "For unlawful carnal knowledge" usually in acronym form.

Admiral Levy made attempts over the years to get Congress to outlaw the practice of whipping American sailors and was rebuffed.

This consensus was that a good whipping was needed once in awhile to maintain discipline.

Finally, Levy came up with an idea. He brought a navy Sargent at arms to the floor of congress with a cat-o-nine tails and invited any member who felt it was minimal punishment to step forward and the chief would demonstrate on him.

The vote to abolish flogging in the U. S. Navy was unanimous

2009-04-12T14:16:00.000-07:00

Another Tiger?

Uncle David reported to me that the members of the two golf clubs to which he belonged had their noses out of joint because a young salesman who snubbed invitations to play socially would sign up for course tournaments and win.

This was in the early days of our marriage and Jeannie was president of Young Wives Club of the YWCA. I made my obligatory attendance at their annual banquet and found myself sitting next to this young man.

I queried as to whether he played golf. He responded that he hated golf. He went on to say that he carried clubs in his car. It seems that many of his customers were avid golfers and a few hours on the course could cement a business relationship.

He went on to say he could win by a stroke or lose by a stroke.

Then the rest of the story unfolded.

His father was a golf pro bent on training his son to be a winner on the professional golf tour.

This ran counter his ambition.

In college he entered the the National Junior Amateur Golf Tournament. He finished second.

He told his father that he did not want to continue in competitive golf.

If he couldn't win against a college kid, how would do against the big boys?

Who beat him?

Jack Nicklaus, six time winner of the Green Jacket and one of the greatest golfers of our time.

2009-04-05T15:41:00.000-07:00

A story from another time that may give some thought in our time.

In the fifteenth century there lived a pious Jew known as Abravanel. He wrote poetry and hymns of praise that endure in prayer books to this day.

He was also was very wise and rose quickly in influence in the court of Spain.

Then came the inquisition.

He was advised by his royal friends that he was on a list for prison and torture by the zealots of the Catholic Church.

Abandoning everything he secured passage on a boat leaving that night. On the sea his vessel was attacked by pirates. His family was murdered and he was sold into slavery in Morocco.

His new master recognized Abravenal's powers of reason and he and others sought the advise of this slave. Eventually, he was able to secure his freedom.

Landing in Naples he restored his fame and became adviser to Italian royalty. He led a rich and respected life.

In his seventies, an especially advanced age in those days, he set out on his lifelong dream, a journey to the holy land to spend his final days.

The trip was arduous taxing even much younger men.

When the pilgrim beheld the the walls of Jerusalem that appear golden in the evening sun, he sank to his knees in awe and commenced praying.

An Arab riding out from the city spied the the man in foreign dress kneeling in the roadway, drew a scimitar and lopped off his head.

2009-03-21T12:59:00.000-07:00

Remember George Burns?
Remember Gracie Allen?

You may remember their TV show if you are old enough. When they retired it was the longest running show on the tube.

They started in vaudeville. They were one of the few to successfully make the switch from stage to radio in 1934 when whole families sat in the parlor to listen to Sunday night comedies.

As people became fascinated with the hazy black and white images on the television set, the Burnses moved to the new medium.

The reason this is on my blog. Last night we went to a one man show in which the actor tried to recreate the character of George Burns based on his autobiography "Gracie and Me".

It brought a a memory. Our local newspaper in the 1930's carried a column headed "Gracie Allen Says" a spoof on the talking heads of that day.

At the age of seven I was reading the newspaper and I asked my mother to explain who Gracie Allen was. She took a few minutes from her task at hand and responded that Gracie was part of the team of Burns and Allen. Gracie was a comedienne. George was her partner. Without Gracie George Burns would not last a week in show business.

Gracie retired in 1950 after a series of heart attacks.

George did a command performance for the queen of England in the 1990's.

2009-03-02T14:55:00.000-08:00

The Rothschild family was fabled both in Jewish and non-Jewish circles.

Mayer Amschel Rothschild's ascent from seller of rare coins to become banker to Wilhem of Hesse in 1785 and later to many of the princes of Europe was almost beyond imagination.

Wilhelm as Landgrave of Hesse had a profitable business renting units of his army to his brother royalty. His problem was there was no loyalty among royalty and they could not be bothered with mundane things like paying bills. Rothschild took on the job of collecting and accounting for the monies

He sent each of his five sons to an important capital in Europe to open a branch of his bank.

Actually, by measuring out the amount of money he loaned through his banks to each prince he and his descendants were able to keep a level of peace in Europe for almost a century.

Anyway, the story I want to tell concerns one of Mayer Amschel's descendents.

It was Christmas day. The Baron Rothschild had given all of his servants the day off to celebrate the holiday with their famlies.

There came a persistant chiming of the door bell. Unaccustomed to answering his own door and thinking it might be a well wisher who happened by in those days before the telephone he trudged to the portal.

Before his eyes staring back at him through the swirling snow was a travel worn bearded old man.

"I am Rabbi Schmul from a small village in Eastern Poland. I have traveled three hundred miles on foot to see you. I am frozen and hungry. May I come in?"

The Baron was taken aback. Gathering his wits he ushered the man to the kitchen. The visitor ate till he could fill himself no more.

He then told his story. The cossacks had been on one of their pograms against the Polish Jews. They had burned homes, stolen cattle, and left the population of the little Jewish enclaves battered and starving.

Please, Baron, give us some money to buy seed and livestock so that we can rebuild our lives.

The Baron turned petulant. What do I have to do with people three hundred miles away?

You are a Jew and if the anti semites can attack us they can surely find you.

The Baron grew irritated. Here in Germany? Never!

The Baron then summoned the Old Rabbi down a passage into a huge walkin safe with a heavy steel door.

See there is gold, there are French francs, Italian lira, Spanish pesetas, Brittish pounds

Whatever happens my money will keep me safe. Go back to your people and tell them to work out their own problems.

The old man quietly slipped out of the strongroom As he left he slammed the door shut and snapped the lock.

Looking back at the steel door he shouted to the entrapped baron, "As long as your money can keep you safe I will leave with your message to my people!"

2009-02-20T16:17:00.000-08:00

I always admired and envied my father's wavy black hair.

Even at the age of sixty only a distinguished small area of grey at the temples was visible. The rest of the scalp retained its jet black sheen.

Regularly, Dad went to the shop of "Mac the barber" located next to the Queen Chophouse where Mr. Henderson ate his lunch.

Dad was a client of Mac himself until one day after several years as Dad sat in the barber chair a customer walked in and Mac told him that he should sit down because I'll get this guy finished in just a couple of minutes.

Dad got his nose out of joint because he felt that his old buddy Mac was rushing and giving him less than a perfect haircut.

The next time he went to the second chair barber. The only problem was that while Dad was snoozing in the chair, Mac had opened the trapdoor to the cellar to get some supplies. Barber number two flipped back the cover sheet signalling the end of the session. Dad stepped out of the chair and tripped down the stairwell.

Bruised and shaken he visited old Dr. Francis Campbel who officed in the Drumheller Building. The old country G.P. who brought me into the world in 1929 taped his ribs and determined that no major bones were broken.

Father went back to Mac's shop to discuss the incident with him and to present the doctor's bill.
Mac listened and said, "Yes I know. Too bad!- turned his back and applied his scissors to the customer in the chair.

Mac's shop is gone. Many years ago a fire took out the Main Street face of the block between Fourth and Fifth.

Speaking of barbers, when I bought the Holmes building one of the tennants was Gus the barber.
I was collecting rent one day and he appeared upset.. He had just finished a long phone conversation with his wife. The problem was he didn't have a telephone in the shop.

2009-02-04T19:56:00.000-08:00

Saw a bit of "Funny Girl" last night, the Barbara Streisand movie loosely based on the life of Fanny Brice.

I remember Fanny Brice from her radio program, Baby Snooks, in which she was a sort of female Dennis the Menace to Hanley Stafford's Mr. Wilson.

Apparently at 18 she had a beautiful voice and was a member of the Ziegfield Follies.

She became a noted comediene. While she became famous for her ethnic humor based mainly on the lives of Jewish imigrants, she was born in Brooklyn and picked up her characterizations from her early days working in her father's bar.

She tried to distance herself from her humble beginnings and when she had cosmetic surgery the satterist, Dorothy Parker, coined the phrase, "She cut off her nose to spite her race."

The love of her life, Nick Arnstein, was portrayed in the movie by the sophisticated Omar Sharif as a high roller gambler. Actually, Nick was a small time con man who was in and out of prison.

Ms Brice spent a fortune on defense when Arnstein was caught in a bond heist. At one point the prosecutor referred to him as the mastermind of the gang. Brice shouted out, "Nicki couldn't mastermind his way out of a paper bag."

If one is to believe the book, Hit andRun: How Jon Peters and Peter Gruber Took Sony for a Ride in Hollywood" by Nancy Griffin and Kim Masters there is a paralell with Streisand.

Their version of the story is that Jon Peters, a Rodeo Drive hair-dresser, told all of his clients that he was personal hair-dresser to Barbara Streisand the fact being he had never met her.

When an order came to the salon for an emergency house call, Jon slipped the fellow assigned to the job a couple of hundred dollars and sped out the Streisand Malibu home. The authors maintain that over the course of the set and rinse Jon became her lover and business manager.

He produced a record album for her and a couple of highly successful movies.

He was more then a Svengali to her Trilby. She had tended to be shy and reclusive. He built her confidence and after he left her to become co-head of MGM studios through contacts he made made managing Ms. S and at which the authors claim he bilked Sony out of billions she went on to produce, direct and star in Academy award quality movies.

Just as the movie glamorizes Arnstein, in the book on Peters I don't remember the authors mentioning that his family owned the upscale beauty solon and that he had made millions selling a cosmetics line before he met Streisand.

2009-02-03T21:40:00.000-08:00

Reading about the resignations of a couple of president Obama's key appointments, I recall a conversation I was privy to several years ago.

I was visiting my aunt Edith and uncle Soby in Los Angeles during the New Year holiday.

Soby received a new year call from his brother. After the call was over Soby reported that his brother who had been an important member of the Eisenhower Administration but at the time was serving as a part time federal judge had had another judge come to his office.

The judge had a weighty problem. He had been nominated to the Supreme Court but the word out was that there would be a tough fight in the senate for his confirmation.

The brother informed the perplexed man that he should avoid putting the president on the spot.
A call to the White House explaining the situation asking them to draw up a letter of resignation which he would sign would be the decent thing to do.

He concluded to Soby- How could I tell the guy to his face that I didn't think he had the brains to be a Supreme Court justice?

2008-11-19T20:07:00.000-08:00

Emory

Just back from India I spoke to son, Steve.

Among the things he told me was that Emory had died. O. K. Emory was 94 but he had been a presence or as the expression goes the 600 pound elephant in the room for as long as I can remember.

According to an eastern Oregon newspaper obit, he had been born in Idaho. His family lived briefly in Colorado but eventually settled on a farm in an isolated area of the Imnaha River valley.

As a young man, in the 1930's he operated a rendering plant in Ellensburg at the foot of the Cascade Mountains in central Washington state.

BB&S as part of their business in animal skins at the time had accounts in the Lewiston, Idaho, area where they bought the animal fat by-product, tallow. This was about 70 years ago. Emory ranged his operations into Idaho and was a severe competitor.

As my father reported, Emory, to hold down expenses had a small shack built onto his truck for his wife and young family. He also kept a goat on the truck for fresh milk.

According to newspaper accounts I have read, Emory took to wife a young high school girl from an Idaho hamlet who had been sickly all of her life. To impress her on their honeymoon trip to Ellensburg he swerved to intentionally run over a skunk. Inadvertently giving a portent of her life to come. She bore him five children, was expected to have a hearty lunch on the table daily for Emory's working crew, and to have some money for herself cared for terminally ill patients in her home.

In regard to her "own money" it was alleged by relatives that although she had willed the money to her church, Emory convinced her on her death bed to alter the will in his favor.

In the 1940's Emory had some difficulties with the city of Ellensburg and moved his rendering operations to a ten acre site on the edge of Walla Walla. He also became aggressive in the scrap metal business, a direct collision with BB&S again.

Over the years he did several dismantling jobs at the Hanford Works. According to Ed "the horse" Lauritsen who worked both for Emory and for me at different times, he would bring a trailer to the site but after working from dawn to dusk would often throw a bedroll on the ground and pop up the next morninhg to work again. How he was able to do this in a very highly unionized, safety conscious area no one seems to know. It was reported that even when he sustained a severe hand injury or burns from his acetylene torch he refused to get medical attention and continued on the job.

Recently I visited him at his scrapyard. He turned off his torch long enough to chat for a couple of minutes and then adjusting his goggles bent over the piece of farm equipment he was preparing for recycle.

A determined business competitor to four generations of our family he was termed by Uncle Dave Ä working fool". Not an expression of derision.

e

2008-10-08T14:32:00.000-07:00

Tax- Patriotic?

Tom Freidman had a column in the NY Times challenging Sarah Palin's statement that taxes were unpatriotic.

My grandfather told me it was a privilege to pay taxes. I had made a negative remark reflecting some of the comments made by conservative school mates.

Grandfather B jumped all over me saying that in America tax was fair. In Russia taxes were onerous and skewed to weigh more heavily on minorities particularly Jews.

Taxes were collected by "tax farmers", brokers who collected on a commission basis.

Many of the tax brokers were Jewish as this was one of the few government jobs they could hold.
It was an s*** detail at best and certainly did not endear them to an already hostile population.

As told to me by my dad the routine went like this, when word spread that the tax broker was in the area anything in the house of value was hidden.

When the knock on the door came, the housewife would answer wearing her meanest outfit crying out about what a terrible year it had been.

The tax broker would check his records and announce an amount.

The housewife then would empty her purse offering the guy the "few kopecks she had".

In most homes the centerpiece was an elaborate samovar possibly handed down from generation to generation.

The tax collector would look at the miserable offering and walk over to the samovar saying that since there was no cash available he was sure he could sell it for enough to make up the difference.

Then the negotiations would begin earnest and money would appear from a convenient hiding place.

In conclusion, not too ago after repeated requests to the city to pave the street abutting our leaseback with telephone company, I discussed permission to investigate paving it myself.

It would have to be done to current state standards for all thoroughfares although it would be used only by phone company employees and the setup cost alone for doing a block would be the same as doing a complex of city streets - many thousands of dollars.

I will wait until the city accumulates enough "unpatriotic" tax money to do the whole street

2008-09-24T12:17:00.000-07:00

The Schnorrer

He would generally arrive in my office on the hottest day of July. He would plop down on the sofa in my office.

He wore a wool serge suite and a tie that perpetually seemed to have a residual of his breakfast on it. He was very overweight and in his sixties or seventies. A soon as he sat down a large handkerchief would appear to mop his neck and brow.

He had just got off the bus from Great Falls or Spokane or Boise and he had called on so and so and so and so who knew me and sent regards.

He was the Schnorrer.

Now, my association with the word went back to my childhood days when I would eagerly wait for my mother to finish stirring the chocolate cake icing with saucer eyes and she would offer the spoon for me to lick. Saying " O.K. little schnorrer, enjoy."

Actually, before President Franklin D. Roosevelt endorsed the National March of Dimes and made fund raising big business with national telethons and all the trappings schnorring was an honorable profession.

The schnorrer went from community to community seeking out donors and bringing a connection to the isolated Jewish merchants and professional people in the on the Main Streets of small towns.

I think he was one of the last. One year we received a letter from the New York office of a religious secondary school in Israel informing us that Rabbi ______ who had called on us had passed away and we should honor his memory by sending a donation in the enclosed envelope.

I remember him calling on my father and he or his predecessor probably called on my grandfather so as soon as I finished my phone call or the paperwork in front of me I would reach into my desk for a checkbook.

One year instead of reaching for the check book I turned to him and said, "I am sorry. We have had a really lousy year I'd like to skip the donation this year."

He fixed his gaze on me and responded, "So you had a lousy year. How did it feel?"

Well it was depressing and I had to tell the family to cut back on extra expenses.

"So why would you do that to me?"

He left with a generous check

2008-09-22T09:41:00.000-07:00

September 22, 2008

The newspaper headlines scream of bailouts for ailing banks. The federal government to the rescue!

While I am not a Libertarian, I have some doubts as to the efficacy of government aid.

For instance-

About twenty year ago our beautiful Blue Mountains of eastern Oregon were invaded by a species of moths that built nests for their young in the worm phase out of a silky substance that looked like cobwebs. When thousands of these critters chose a tree, they effectively shrink wrapped it.

In addition the offspring ate voraciously on the the tender buds which were the tree's reproductive mechanism.

Local newspaper headlines proclaimed that thousands of acres would be denuded of trees.

Swift action was needed.

At the time I was a member of a local Toastmaster's group. Membership at the time included employees of the forest service bent on self improvement. Part of their training was practising presentations they would be giving at their conferences so there was a front seat on an ongoing situation.

The government in its wisdom decided to take decisive action against the pest. It would spray from the air the entire forest.

The first voice of doubt came from one our members, a forestry expert, who weighed in with the opinion that the moths were in fact native to this forest and a combination of weather, food etc. had caused an explosion of population that would subside from natural causes such as viral infections that had historically limited the insect's spread.

His resignation in hand the upper level bureaucrats order thousands of gallons of toxic spray.

The environmentalists and the fishing community then screamed in protest and commenced legal actions to prevent the application of massive amounts of poison being applied to the watershed that fed the streams that filled the rivers.

Hundreds of 55 gallon drums of spray concentrate lay rusting in an open storage yard in Walla Walla.

The court battles and hearings went on over two years.

The natural enemies of the moths prevailed. The population shrank back to its normal levels.

Meanwhile, in court a judge ordered that the spraying be allowed.

What to do? The threat was gone but the Forest Service had invested thousands of dollars, the drums lay on the ground as a reminder of a hasty action.

The judge had said, "Spray", so contracts were let to spray the entire forest for the now nonexistent moths.

I hope we have better luck in this emergency.

2008-09-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

People the world over are more impressed with the power of our example than with the example of our power.

Barak Obama - 2008

Any time our army enters a shooting war it represents a failure of our nation at every level of our civilian authorities to negotiate or our army to train and deploy in such a way to reach a peaceful solution

My ROTC instructor - 1950

2008-08-21T23:06:00.000-07:00

It is hard to believe today the discrimination against women that persisted through most of the twentieth century.

In 1985 my mother's sister, Edith, passed away. The following story was told at her funeral

As well as being an accomplished violinist. an active volunteer at the Neighborhood House, she aced the classes at Reed College and went on to get a masters degree in sociology at Columbia University in New York.

We are now talking mid 1920's.

She applied to enter the PHD program in sociology at Columbia.

Her advisor laid it out straight. She had the tickets but there were no jobs available for women in the field at the doctorate level. There were limits to the the number of PHD candidates and he could not in good conscience take a spot away from a man.

She took a teaching job at Mills College. At the time one of the most prestigious all women's colleges in the country.

As classes were about to start, she received a telegram from Columbia University. The University had relented. There was a spot for her in the PHD program.

She approached the president of Mills College with the telegram.

The president handed back her teaching contract and put her on the train to New York. She had broken one glass ceiling as the first female doctoral candidate in sociology at Columbia University.

2008-08-14T18:23:00.000-07:00

A moment to remember

In case you missed the story on the internet, cousin Adrienne's granddaughter Sada Jacobson won a silver medal in women's sabres fencing. This duplicated her 2004 appearance.

Also, this is the first time since 1904 that an American team has taken all three medals in this sport.

When Sada's eyes began to tear, a gentleman in the first row handed her his handkerchief. She wiped the tears and handed back the handkerchief only then realizing that the donor was former President of the United States, George H.W. Bush.

She said had she known in time she might have kept it for a memory of that day.

2008-08-13T16:55:00.000-07:00

Whatever became of Mickey?

Mickey(not his real name) was a power to be reckoned with. He was purchasing manager for a local company that manufactured large agricultural equipment that incorporated tons of steel and sophisticated electronic parts.

We at BBS became acquainted with Mickey through our recycling operations. They generated truckloads of scrap metal. We sold them some new steel on an immediate need basis but their purchases were in large quantities and cut to lengths that would insure minimum waste and preparation on their part.

The competition for their business was intense. It all had to be approved by Mickey.

I was skeptical when a tenant in a rental I owned told me she had called police the night before as Mickey was banging on her door in the middle of the night screaming the name of a woman and vowing to kill her.

Mickey apparently been drinking with some friends and on the way home became so obnoxious his buddies dumped him out of the car at an intersection near the rental.

My partner who dealt with Mickey expressed disbelief when I related the incident. There was a one line entry in a police report in the local paper confirming. Mickey was back on the job the next day.

Phone calls started coming in. Mickey was very high handed. The company was cancelling orders leaving suppliers stuck with cut to order product. They were paying their bills and reordering other material. What did we know?

Then the calls changed to they are extending their payments, collections are tough, we have material prepared to their specifications. Can you tell us what is happening?

The other shoe dropped. The company closed.

We thought Mickey came out right side up. He was now production manager for another local manufacturing company.

Then he vanished.

Two years later he walked into my office asking to be hired as a laborer.

He stated that he had been working at a manufacturing company in Seattle. One night he had repeated the door banging thing. This time when the police arrived he attempted to run away. The police released a dog that clamped its teeth into his leg and as he attempted to dislodge the animal it took a chunk of muscle leaving a large divot.

He had sued and received a judgement of $40,000.00. While waiting for the check he had tapped his mother's savings and tapped his friends but now he needed a job. I hired him.

From time to time one of my suppliers would ask if I had heard anything of Mickey. It gave me a pleasure to say that he was working as a day laborer in my warehouse.

One morning my manager reported Mickey's check from Seattle. He opened the safe and indicated a paper bag.

He had accompanied our work crew to a nearby restaurant that included a backroom with a long bar.

Mickey was there throwing out $50.00 bills to buy drinks for the house. He had cashed the huge check and demanded the money in cash.

Steve my operations manager had enticed him back to our office fearing someone would hit him over the head. My store manager reminded him about his mother exhausting her savings counting on reimbursements.

He surrendered the bag and staggered off to his nearby flophouse room.

My employees were able to get a list of debts and pay them on his behalf. For the most part he came by to draw enough money to stay drunk for a few days. He bought an old car that broke down. His bouts with the bottle became longer and longer and eventually his health broke.

He was hospitalized and disappeared from the area.

He was bright and talented. In the short time he worked for me he designed and built special work aids out of steel and was very personable in demonstrating welders for sale to customers.

He screwed up his life because he of his addiction to alcohol.

What a waste!

2008-08-07T20:10:00.000-07:00

After writing the Goldburg You'r in Business thing. I recalled a case study we read in Human Relations class.

Bell Systems in the 1940's had a typing pool of over one hundred women typing letters for various administrative departments.

The women were divided into groups and each group had an experienced editor who read each piece circling errors and sending the missive back to be reworked.

A consultant was called in when rejections approached 100%.

Interviewing members of the pool he found that most of the women were recent graduates of prestigious colleges some with masters degrees. They had their resumes out for positions in their field and in the meanwhile took the typing job to pay the rent.

The recommendation was that the editors be eliminated and one supervisor do random checks.

When the women learned that they were to be treated as responsible adults errors disappeared.

2008-08-05T14:23:00.000-07:00

In the late 1800's a middle aged couple arrived at the office of the president of Harvard.

The man asked to see the president.

When asked if he had an appointment, he replied in the negative but added that they were in town only for the day and would be happy to wait for a break in the busy man's schedule.

The two sat quietly for several hours as contractors with rolls of plans and instructors with briefcases full of books entered, sat, and eventually were sent into the inner office.

Sometime after five the president came out and told the secretary not to send any more people in as he was leaving for the day.

The secretary pointed to the couple and explained their patient wait.

The president walked over to them. "I am already late for a faculty meeting. I will give you five minutes"

The man cleared his throat. "Our son was killed this summer in a tragic accident involving a horse he was riding. He had attended Harvard and said it was the happiest time of his life so we would like some kind of memorial here."

The president cut him off. He indicated that if they were thinking of a picture in a hall they were already lined with portraits of alumni who had become senators or ambassadors and, yes, even presidents.

Well something more than that.

Drinking fountain? We have them at every corner. One of our alumni just donated a wing for a building. It cost close to a million dollars.

This campus represents big money, about $100,000,000.

At that point the woman who hadn't said a word up to that point said, " Dear, if that is all a university costs let's build our own."

Without a further word the couple rose and left.

On some farm land they own south of San Fransisco they built their own university.

They named it Leland Stanford Jr. Memorial University.

"It is nice to be important it is more important to be nice."

2008-07-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

December 1,1955 I started work full time in the family business.

My father told me this story.

The battalion commander at his headquarters just a few kilometers from the front lines in Europe in World War ll was baffled.

On his desk was a recommendation that Goldberg be awarded a Silver Star medal an award just one notch below the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Of the hundreds of men under his command he identified Goldberg immediately. He had been a screw-up from basic training on.

He summoned his driver and they sped off to the headquarters of the company commander who had forwarded the recommendation.

What is this about Goldberg he shouted!

The captain referred him to Sgt. O'Casey.

O'Casey said, "I know you are familiar with Goldberg as a sad sack but you have to hear my story. We were pinned down by a German machine gun platoon that was on high ground with a perfect field of fire. We would have all been killed.

I pride myself, in knowing how to motivate my men. Goldberg is Jewish

I called Goldberg over and told him see all those Nazis out there. Grab your rifle. Here is a bandoleer of ammunition.

FROM HERE ON GOLDBERG YOUR IN BUSINESS FOR YOURSELF!

He wiped out the whole damned platoon.

From that day on I was pretty much my own boss.

2008-07-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

Moe was a Holocaust survivor.

After being liberated from the concentration camp he made his way to the American sector and through help from relatives already here was able to come to America and make a life for himself.

On a visit to a supermarket he observed that the lottery prize had reached $100 million.

He bought a ticket.

He was the sole winner of the drawing! The hundred million was his.

He rented a banquet room and invited all of his friends and relatives to a celebration.

He ascended the podium. He was setting up a multi million dollar scholarship foundation for the children of those he cared for. Applause

He was setting up annuities for people who had helped him when he was in need. Applause

He was giving a million dollars to the United Jewish Appeal. Standing ovation

He was giving $50,000.00 to the Nazi Party. Stunned silence

He unbuttoned his sleeve and exhibited the concentration camp tattoo on his forearm.

Where do you think I got the winning number?

2008-07-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

What is a schlemazel?

Many Yiddish words have found their way into the common vernacular. The schlemazel is a person with perpetual bad luck. A schlemiel is a waiter who trips over his own feet and spills soup on a customer. The customer who gets the hot soup in his lap is the schlemazel.

Al Capp (Kaplon) in his cartoon "Lil' Abner" featured a character with an unpronounceable name who perpetually had his own dark raincloud above his head. This was the schlemazel.

A schlemazel cannot escape his fate.

Sol dropped out of high school when his mother became a widow an took a job as a roustabout in a furniture store.

After taking night school classes, he became a bookkeeper spending long hours in a corner of the storeroom with his green eye shade recording numbers under a single sixty watt globe.

Most comfortable in his studio apartment listening to his CD's, he sometimes was invited to accompany the raucous sales crew to lunch or dinner. Habitually, when introductions were made to table hoppers he was by-passed and waitresses either forgot to take his order or brought him the wrong entree.

One morning Sol woke to a rustling noise beside him. Standing there in his little room was the angel of death.

Sol, I have come for you. It is your time but looking at the record of your life I find it totally without blemish. I am granting you twenty four hours to go out and do one reprehensible deed as only God is perfect.

Sol wandered the streets imagining scenario after scenario of dastardly deeds only to reject them.

As the twenty fourth hour approached, he decided to return to his room and let the angel decide his fate.

As he neared his room, a door opened. Miss Schwartz, the spinster who was his neighbor all these years opened her door to let her cat out.

Filled with frustration and without thinking Sol burst through the partially open door grabbed the hapless lady threw her to the floor and had his way with her.

As he turned to leave the room in shame, he heard her exclaim. Sol, I am a lonely old maid. I thought I would never know love. You have done a mitzvah ( obligatory good deed) I will mention you in my prayers.

(Story based on one in a Yiddish/English dictionary)

2008-07-14T18:02:00.000-07:00

Statute of Limitations?

In a small Russian village in the pale of settlement back in my grandfather's day, a young mother- to- be was about to deliver her first child.

Female family members gathered to witness the event.

The midwife went about her chores culminating with holding the newborn infant girl by her heels and giving her the traditional slap. But alas no crying out.

Try as she may, the midwife could not get a response from the otherwise perfectly formed child.

The family went into conference.

It was Friday and by Jewish tradition the remains must be buried before the sundown of the Sabbath.

A boy was sent to summon Hyam, the grave digger.

As the gathering began their mourning, the seven year old sister of would be mother sidled up to the crib. Projecting out from the blanket covering the baby was a doll-like hand.

An uncontrollable impulse seized the child. She grabbed a pin and poked at the tiny fingers.

A lusty wail ensued. The ladies rushed in in response. The infant's pallor had been replaced by a rosy hue and she was bawling out her greeting to the world.

The seven year old was hugged and feted. The story was told and retold. People came from miles around to see the seven year old aunt who had saved her niece's life.

The young couple invited the heroine to come and live with them. As she neared marriage age they suggested that maybe she should seek a husband. She replied that she had saved the baby's life she must remain and take care of her.

When the niece became a bride, she transferred herself to the newlywed's hut. Each time it was hinted that the place was small and the budget was smaller the Aunt would remind the couple that had it not been for her----.

The Aunt lived to be ninety nine years old moving in with each generation. After all, she had saved the infant's life and therefore made their life possible. They couldn't convince her she was "impossible".

Obviously, there is a moral to the tale but I have forgotten it.

2008-07-14T13:34:00.000-07:00

The best laid plans--

Was to leave for a cruise today but a flareup of asthma precludes flying. So cruise cancelled.

2008-07-12T15:23:00.000-07:00

A philosophy lesson-

After my father passed away I assumed his partnership with my uncle.

Uncle Dave was eighteen years my senior and my mentor in many facets of my life.

Sharing an office, we often had wide ranging discussions during lulls in our work.

Whenever I expressed pessimism he would offer the axiom- " The wheel turns." Meaning in due course things will improve.

One day he was the pessimistic one and I seized the opportunity to offer "The wheel turns."

Without missing a beat he responded, "But not necessarily in the same rut."

2008-07-07T12:13:00.000-07:00

Trials and tribulations

My father it seemed had a story for every situation.

From time to time I would approach him with why do I have to ride an old bicycle when all of the kids are getting new ones, will you help me buy a new car all of my friends parents----

His stock answer would be a recounting of this experience. In the 1920's Dad's Uncle Max operated a second hand store on Main between Fourth and Fifth. His pot bellied stove was a welcome resting place for passers by.

Often as a group of idlers would accumulate in a circle around the red hot source of heat the topic would turn to their experiences in the late war (World War One).

Constant artillery barrages,
hand to hand bayonet charges,
poison gas,
trench foot from standing for hours in one position in ankle deep mud
Buddies wounded or dying on right and left.

If a lull in the conversation occurred, Uncle Max would make his contribution.

You fellows don't know what it was like when I served in the Russian army.

Supply was erratic. Some times we had sugar for our coffee and sometimes we had to drink our coffee without sugar!

End of conversation with Dad.

2008-07-02T13:25:00.000-07:00

I am trying to sell some General Motors Debentures. With rumors of GM's demise floating through the financial community offers are ridiculous to absent.

These "Good Faith Promises to Pay" have paid me above average interest over several years so I hold on to them with my eyes open.

What is best judgement?

In the early 1930's grandfather B. received a large check from a customer. It being Friday afternoon his best judgement was to deposit the check in the Union Bank so it would be safe.

He rushed to the bank only to miss closing by a few minutes. He tapped on a window and caught the eye of a clerk who recognizing a bank customer unlocked the door and accepted the deposit.

Sunday morning a banner headline on the local paper proclaimed, "Union Bank Fails".

In the days before the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp.was established this was not an uncommon occurrence.

Grandfather actually was lucky. An astute group of receivers worked diligently to salvage the bank's assets and in payments spread over many years he recovered most of the balance of his account.

Customers of other banks often were not that lucky. A rumor that a bank was in trouble could send a hoard of depositors queuing up at the tellers windows withdrawing their balances. Thus the rumor would be self fulfilling.

2008-06-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

The following may seem silly but it is bases on an actual incident.

In the 1800's Chinese laborers were imported in large numbers to do tedious work on the expanding railroads and and the dangerous and demanding work in the mines.

The "Celestial" as they were referred to were the subject of scorn by the European workers not only for their strange dress and customs but for the fact they they worked harder and demanded less.

Individuals after working ten or twelve straight hours would tend their little plots of vegetables only to have cowboys demolish their crops by riding their horses over the maturing plants.

Those that panned the rivers for gold were subject to be beaten or murdered for the valuable dust.

There was a murder in Colfax, Washington, in those days. The Marshal needed a perp. Rather than doing a laborious investigation he arrested a young Chinese man who it was reported had walked through the area of the crime at one time or another.

Justice in those days was prompt. Some wanted to string him up immediately but the Marshal was a stickler for procedure so the man was dragged to the local bar which was quickly converted to a courtroom. A jury of good Americans was selected from the imbibers and impaneled.

When it was pointed out that the accused neither spoke nor understood English, someone was sent out to get Chan, the laundry man, who spoke passable pidgin English and was respected as a good "Chinaman".

The prosecution presented its case. It was time for the defense. The only witness for the defense was the testimony of the poor guy.

As he went to the stand, the impartial judge mused that since all Orientals lied in their dealings with Europeans he doubted if he could accept the testimony.

The laundry man assured him that Chinese were very superstitious and the custom in China was for the testifying person to cut the head off a live chicken, grab it by the feet and swing it around his head three times. To lie after that ritual was to endanger one's immortal soul.

Chan then began a long conversation in Chinese with his client in which he demanded that his instructions were to be followed without question. Your life depends on.

Wondering why he was doing it, the man took the offered knife and decapitated the chicken and began swinging it around his head. Heart still beating the chicken spewed gore over the clothing and faces of juror and spectator alike.

The laundry man then began translating a long story he was actually making up as he went along
confirming the fact that the accused had been attending a Chinese Benevolent Society meeting at the time of the crime. The other ten members of the board were waiting out in the street to confirm. Could they recess while he found ten more chickens?

No need! The acquittal decision was quick and unanimous.

The chicken was brought in. The young man was given a sharp knife.

2008-06-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

Concerning statues in Europe as mentioned in my previous blog, a guide told us that if the hero is depicted astride a horse, he died in battle. If he is depicted standing, he died in bed of old age.
Is the greater hero the one who died in battle?

This puts me in mind of General George S. Patton's harangue to his troops immediately before the D-day embarkation to Normandy. It went something like this:

No poor S. O. B. ever won a war by dying for his country. Wars are won by making some poor unlucky S. O. B. on the other side die for his country.

I don't know if that was original with him but I have always felt it was profound.

In this same vein was the statement by my ROTC professor at the University that any time the military fires a shot at an enemy in anger it was a result of a string of failures by civilians to take adequate diplomatic action and of the military to flex its muscles and maneuver in such a way as to intimidate the prospective foe.

In 1950 was he ahead of his time?

2008-06-11T14:37:00.000-07:00

Mike gave me a copy of an article in the Puget Sound Business Journal reporting on the pledge of cousins Stan and Alta in the amount of four million dollars to the University of Washington Law School "to establish an institute to improve human services around the world."

My first thought was our family has come a long way from grandfather B. who in early life was a cooper's apprentice shaping barrel staves and after coming to America went farm to farm with a horse and wagon bartering for scrap metal and animal skins. Grandfather often slept in barns and ate meals offered by the farmers on their back porches.

But reading even further, I was impressed by Stan's quote:

A lack of basic human services, many of which are widely available to the wealthy, is preventing the poor from improving their lives. Ensuring those services is a smart foreign policy that will save lives and earn a great deal of good will."

Over the weekend I attended the high school graduation of a young man adopted at birth by an American family after being abandoned by his birth mother, a Central American Indian, at a mission hospital. This was her seventeenth live birth. With her husband, children and a grandchild, twenty people shared space in a one room shanty where they lived on a bare subsistence level.

Mainly due to poor nourishment no one in the family including the parents was over five feet tall. This biological son is approaching six feet. With the love and encouragement of his adoptive parents and siblings he is off to continue his schooling and will have meaningful life.

Traveling in Europe, I remarked to my wife, "There are statues all over to people who have lead armies to war. Where are the statues of people who have prevented war?"

2008-05-26T17:07:00.000-07:00

Bernard Baruch was a financier and advisor to democratic presidents from Woodrow Wilson to Harry Truman. He was born in South Carolina in 1865 and died in New York in 1965.

His father was physician to Confederate general Robert E. Lee and rode with the original Ku Klux Klan when it served the purpose of running off Northern "Carpetbaggers" who came South after the Civil War to bilk the survivors out of their land.

The Baruchs moved to New York and young Barney tried his hand at Wall Street. He became a millionaire at thirty. The story told is that while the Baruch family was not religious, his mother insisted on observing Yom Kippur.

Mr. B was in the middle of a hot deal having invested most of his net worth selling short stock in a company that he believed would announce a cut in dividend the next day.

That evening his mother called to remind him the next day was the holiday, Yom Kippur. He was to spend the day with her and have no contact with the stock market.

All day long he was fidgeting at what might have happened in the market but his respect for his mother was such that he abided by her wishes.

At the end of the day he reviewed his telegrams finding that during the day his associates were imploring him to close out his position.

The morning after the holiday the stock took an unexpected large dip. He then replaced the shorted stock at a much lower price and made a fortune.

He was influential in setting up programs to increase industrial production in World War I and set Nuclear policy after World War II.

He became famous nationally when it was revealed that he often conducted business in later years from a bench in Central Park and would hold court there for for industrial titans and high government officials. When Winston Churchil visited the U. S. he taxied to Central Park to confer with Baruch.

On a warm spring day Congressman Tom Foley visited Democratic campaign Headquarters in Walla Walla. Most people were mowing lawns and other rites of early spring and as I sat next to Tom who was then Majority Whip we spoke of my former college roommate, Tom Lantos, a newly elected member of the house.

I related this story to him. One morning as Mr. Baruch entered his office adjacent to the stock market floor he was greeted by an earnest young man who handed him a letter. The missive was from a dear friend of his mother. It explained that the young man, her son, was looking forward to a career on Wall Street and any help the well known Wizard could give him would be appreciated.

Baruch took the boy by the arm. He explained the he was heading for the men's room at the far end of the floor. You will go with me as far as the door giving me an update on everything your family is doing in a very sincere manner.

Because you are with me every eye will be on you. If you you can't take it from there, you will never make it on the Street.

The next time I saw Tom Foley he reported that he followed up on our conversation encountering Tom Lantos in the House Cloak Room during a break. He invited him to sit near the entrance where all could see them and the future Speaker of the House and the freshman member had an earnest discussion about-----me.

I never heard the follow up on Baruch's young man but Tom Lantos during his lifetime became a world class legislative inspiration.

2008-05-23T15:17:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I was visiting Los Angeles.

My Aunt Edith and Uncle Sobey lived at the La Brea Tower.

Uncle Sobey offered to take me to breakfast at the Farmers' Market not far away.

As we walked through the crowded lanes, Uncle Sobey exclaimed- Look, there is Teddy Kollek, the mayor of Jerusalem! I am going over and buy him a newapaper. We spoke briefly to one of the key people in the founding ofIsrael and Uncle Sobey insisted he be allowed to pay for the L. A. Times.

Teddy Kollek was instrumental in forging the close relationship with the U. S. and the CIA.

At the height of the cold war the FBI received an offer to tempting to pass. A Russian Colonel of Counterintelligence agreed to defect if supplied with an estate and certain funds.
The FBI is charged with domestic security the CIA has the rest of the world.

J. Edgar Hoover, was dedicated to weeding out Comunist spies and he wasn't having too much success on the home front. If he could cut in on the CIA's territory, he could get the type of publicity he loved.

The defection was arranged and the defector was hidden at a safe house near Washington. As money was placed in his account he began to sing.

Certain CIA agents were in fact turncoats working for the Russians. The information was supplied to the CIA who removed the compromised agents from their posts.

The uephoric FBI inquisitors wanted more names. He said show me a list of names and I will identify the traitors -- for a price.

The CIA was going nuts. They were losing many of their best operatives some of them from cover that had taken years to establish.

At a party Mr. Kollek pulled aside the local CIA rep. He told them that his MOSAD sources in Moscow informed him that the MKVD dirty tricks people were laughing their heads off and let something slip.

They had recruited a bright Soviet army lieutentent with acting ability, trained him over a period of time and given him the forged papers with the rank of Lt. Colonel in Counter Intelligence. He was then allowed to set up contacts with the FBI and arrange a "defection" to the U. S. He was creating more havoc than they had hoped for.

Based on Teddy Kollek's report the CIA took care of their situation with the sham "Colonel" and the CIA began a a partnership with the MOSAD enjoying their having sources in places the CIA did not.

2008-05-10T21:36:00.000-07:00

Last night we saw a performance of "Anne Frank" done professionally and with great feeling at Seattle's Intiman Theatre starring Lucy Devito, daughter of Rea Perlman and Danny Devito in the title roll.

The play begins with a comment by the Otto Frank character that after being liberated from a Nazi concentration camp he had spent months being shunted from one refugee camp to another before being released to return to Holland.

This reminded me of a conversation with a veteran infantry master sgt. who was temporarily billeted at our facility in Korea.

He reported that his son was a tank commander at the front lines. The tank was in imperative need of a new engine and orders through normal channels went unheeded. He had come to Seoul to seek direct contact with an opposite number in the Ordinance Corps. who could steal an engine destined for someone else and load it on his truck.

I understood this to mean that a couple of cases of Seagrams VO would be passed in compensation for the favor. That is the army way.

The sgt. then expanded on the value of the old boy network.

He had been captured by the Germans in the invasion of North Africa and shipped to a prison camp in Germany.

Almost three years later as American troops broke the backs of the Warmacht, the prison guards fled leaving the gates open. The captives gingerly at first began making their way West toward the American lines.

Streaming along the roads some partly dressed in cast off German uniforms they encountered the vangard of the advancing army.

Their joy at being reunited with their fellow GI's was short lived. They were met at gun point.

Enemy soldiers wearing American uniforms and speaking passable English had created havoc behind U. S. lines. Everyone was on his guard.

If you are Americans answer this. Who won this year's Worlds Series?

Gee, tell us we want to know.

Who is Dick Tracy's current nemisis? What is Frank Sinatra's current best selling record.

Man, we have been locked up in a prison camp and our captors have not shared that information with us.

A decision had to be made so the released captives were sent to a fenced camp at the port.

Weeks went by and the detainment camp grew larger and larger and noone in authority seemed to be in a hurry to check the verity of the detainees.

The sgt. noticed a troop ship in the harbor being loaded with troops. He asked a guard who the lucky guys were who were going home. The guard replied that they were not lucky GI's but German prisoners of war being transported to U. S. prison camps.

You mean they are going to the U., S. and we are rotting here! Who is in charge of this port?

The guard mentioned the name of the General commanding the port.

I was the General's driver at Fort Riley. Get word to him I am here!

Within an hour a General's jeep pulled up to the stockade. The General imediately recognized the Sgt. After a short conversation an order went out in no uncertain terms from the General.

Get the those dammed prisoners off that boat and get these poor guys home as quick as possible.

In a matter of hours the sarge and his buddies were on their way home.

That is the army way.

2008-05-08T15:08:00.000-07:00

Jean is renting a condo in New York for her upcoming trip. She indicated her plan was to there by taxi.

Someone asked her if the info she had incuded the address.

This sparked an old memory stream.

I was probably nine or ten years old. My mother was sending me to Portland to stay for a few weeks during the summer with my aunt Mollie in the care of my grandmother.

Grandmother spoke very little English. Her treat was to spend some time with her Yiddish speaking friend Mrs. Schahtz.

We embarked on the Toonerville trolley that pulled our sleeping car to the Wallula Junction to hook onto the Mainline train for Portland.

Arriving in Portland we collected our luggage including my Colson full size bicycle bought for me so that I could "grow into it".

We exited the station to the cab stand. The courteous driver stowed our luggage in the trunk of the vehicle advising grandmother there was a fifty cent charge for the bicycle.

We installed ourselves in the traditional passengers seat and the driver cranked the engine.

Where to?

Grandmother responded, " To Mrs. Schahtz' house."

Yes, Mrs Schahtz' house. But what is the address?

Grandmother knew the house. Grandfather had driven her there several times in the big blue Auburn but she had absolutely no idea of the address. If she had it in her purse the stress of the moment panicked her.

I want to go to Mrs. Schahtz' house. Mrs. SCHAHTZ!

The driver jumped out of the cab and litterally threw up his arms and shouted, HOW SHOULD I KNOW WHERE MRS. SCHAHTZ LIVES.

I, imbued with the admonition that children should been seen and not heard sat by as a very quiet witness.

Actually the driver not wanting to loose a fare plus the fifty cents for the bicycle, disapeared and returned momentarily with a Portland telephone directory. He skimmed down the column of "S'
and called the first names of the three likely suspects. Grandmother identified a likely Schahtz and the cabbie took us to the right one first off.

It occurred to me years later that we could have called my aunt who had to have the address to pick me up.

For years a family catch phrase when one of didn't have an answer was, "How should I know where Mrs. Schahtz. lives?"

2008-05-01T14:52:00.000-07:00

Dan put a hit counter on my blog site
I resisted for some time strictly for ego considerations. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to know if anyone was reading the results of my two finger typing.

It seems people far and wide are landing on my site. I perceive the message of those who stay less than the average 43 seconds.

Noticed I am even getting hits from the Middle East. Of course that is lead in to the story.

When I broke up my Palouse street residence nine years ago I was amazed at the things we found.

One was a letter from an Egyptian high school student.

I was in the second or third grade and the assignment was to write a letter to a pen pal overseas.

It was necessary to include a picture of onesself. The picture I sent was of a six year old proudly dressed in chaps, a cowboy hat, a bandana and a toy gun in a holster strapped to my side.

The reply came.

These were great times in Egypt. The headline news of the day was the marriage the sister of King Farouk to the Shah of Iran. If they only knew the future.

The letter ended with a request that I send him my pistol so that he could shoot birds.

My parents were horrified. No way was I to send this Arab a gun, even a toy one.

At the age of seven or eight I was aware that there was animosity between Arabs and Jews.

My mother's aunt was a pioneer in what was then the Brittish protectorate of Palestine. In the 1920's she and her husband had been among the founders of the Egged Bus Co-op so my mother
followed the news of attacks on the builders of what would be Israel.

As a sidelight I might mention that I spent time looking at the archives of my home town newspaper. On the day I was born, September 26, 1929, Arab marauders murdered thirty young students who were camping in a valley near Jerusalem.

By coincidence I was able to visit the place. It was the home of our tour guide. His residence on the West Bank was actually a concrete blockhouse. The valley is still considered an invasion route to Jerusalem.

Arabs say they are angered by the founding of Israel sixty years ago.

Anyone who studies history knows that the case is far more complex and includes the perfidy of the Brittish Foreign Office who promised the land to the Jews after World War l and at the same time told the Arabs they could have it.

2008-04-23T16:02:00.000-07:00

A Lasting Impression

Lawrence told me this story. Lawrence attended university the same time I did at a diferent school.

His friend, Guillermo, was a student from Argentina who imagined himself to be quite a latin lover.

On weekends he would push studies aside and prowl the neighborhood bars picking up young women who were receptive to his accent and amorous advances.

Alas, during his stay, Argentina was grasped by a currency crisis. Sending money out of the country was forbidden. Funds soon ran dry and the few dollars his parents could smuggle to him was barely enough for a meager diet.

Guillermo was renting a room in the home of a widow. He referred to her as an older lady but as he was barely out of his teens I imagine she might have been forty.

He confided with Lawrence that he had solved the problem of keeping a roof over his head. He had shared the secrets of his adventures with the neighborhood women with his landlady and convinced her he could be her "boytoy" in lieu of rent. She could then rent his room to soone else to replace the lost income.

One night Lawrence responded to a late knocking at his door. Before him stood a haggard Guillermo books and duffel in hand.

He implored Lawrence to allow him to sleep on the floor of his dorm room. The agreement with his landlady had to stop. Her demands on his part of the bargain were so frequent and furious that he could not concentrate on his studies. In fact, he was suffering dizzy spells.

I thought about this story frequently and anytime I made a business agreement I tried to make sure there were no "open ends". Alway stipulate a limit on your obligations in a deal was my guide.

2008-04-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

The manager of the wine drinkers Co-op

Karl was not that impressive the first time he came into the store. He had been sleeping it off at the mission but I think the stay time there was limited and he need a job so he could rent a room.

After working for a few days and drawing a paycheck, he was a new man. His wide mustache was waxed he was shaven and his clothes were washed and neat.

He soon became a straw boss. The go to guy in the crew that loaded and unloaded the trucks.

Of course he had a story. He had been a superintendent for a construction company somewhere on the east coast.

Beers with boys and cocktails with the bosses soon became a habit and then an obsession. The booze took over his life.

When the job went so did his wife and family. He became wanderer getting jobs only to lose them when the "thirst" took hold.

I am not sure what brought him to Walla Walla, an out of the way place, but there was a hobo jungle along the railroad tracks. I often found impromtu sheds made out of scrap metal at our scrap yard, large diameter pipe was a home for some.

BB&S had a very tolerant attitude. If you showed up and there was work available you were hired. There was always a job for Karl. He worked on and off for a couple of years.

He also put his organizational talents to use in another way. During a period when again drink took over his life to the point where he could not work he became the leader of a group of "winos", those addicted to the cheap jug wine that the Safeway store on our block sold in quantities that allowed it to stay open after the company had consolidated its other neighborhood stores into one large supermarket.

During the day he would sit in a back booth at the Rodeo Tavern and his cohorts would come and go doing day labor or panhandling. They would disgorge the money on the table and he would allocate it for drinks making sure that he was well covered.

That is why I referred to him as the "Chairman of the Wine Drinkers' Co-op."

One day I was having lunch in the back room of the Pastime Cafe. Karl was seated next to me at the counter drinking coffee.

I remarked that this was not his usual beverage.

He explained that this was his new drink. No more cheap wine drinking.

On a cold night he had crawled into a garbage dumpster and burrowed into the papers and trash to keep warm. He had been rudely awakened from his wine drugged sleep by the shouts of a garbage man staring at him. The garbage truck driver had hooked on to the box to flip it into the compactor mounted on his truck when the machinery stalled. He had dismounted to determine the cause and looking into the steel box saw Karl who but for the glitch in the works would have been packaged and consigned to a grave in the garbage dump.

Karl took this as a sign that his drinking days were over and was hired for a well paying job in shipping and receiving at the General Foods Plant.

2008-04-02T15:08:00.000-07:00

Adventures at St. Mary's Hospital

Returning to Walla Walla was a mixed joy. It was great to be home. Jean immediately checked into the local hospital.

The hospital administrator had abruptly left the hospital, I think he might have been asked to leave, and the place was kind of running itself.

Nursing attention was sparse. I complained to the head floor nurse and her response was that she was working on the hospital budget and didn't have much time for supervising staff.

The tracheotomy needed frequent cleaning. I noticed that the nurse was using straight from the bottle hydrogen peroxide. I remembered reading years before a label recommending a 50% solution. I confronted the nurse and she responded that she was following stated protocol.

I spoke to Dr. McClellan, chief of medicine, he changed the orders.

The final straw occurred when Jean reported that she had been assigned a student nurse to replace her regular nurse. The "nurse" was preparing to make up her bed. She was in the process of transferring Jean to a chair when something distracted her and she instructed her to stand for a minute. Of course Jean collapsed to the floor.

I felt very guilty. I took my wife from one of the nation's top teaching hospitals to this Mickey Mouse operation.

At lunches in the cafeteria I was getting similar reports from the family members of other patients.

Uncle Dave was a member of the advisory board of the hospital. I vented all my frustrations on him and begged him to intercede. He suggested that the complaint might have more weight if it came from a non-family member. He recommended Art Griff, a fellow member of the board.

I unloaded on Art finishing up with the admonition that St. Mary was heading for a sure law suit based on what I was hearing in the cafeteria.

Apparently, Art really shook some people up. The next time I visited the hospital the acting administrator came to Jean's room and told me that things would change and experienced staff would attend my wife.

This was 1985. A new administrator was hired and the hospital has grown and prospered and returned to it's former tradition of quality care. Art was tapped to be on be on the administrative board that actually operates the hospital.

I have related a few instances from a twenty year sequence. Not wanting to offend the AMA and the American Hospital Association further I will take a hiatus from the composition of "Jean's Book".

I salute the staff doctors, residents, and nurses who busted their butts saving their patients lives and making them as comfortable as possible under the circumstances but it is hard to forget some of the foibles that took place on the way.

2008-03-19T16:12:00.000-07:00

This is a continuation of the previous post. If you haven't read that you may want to read it first.

With the tracheotomy complete Jean was transferred to intensive care.

In the next bed was a man. While the nurses were working with Jean, I chatted with him. He had been a professional deep sea diver. Between jobs he worked as a taxi cab driver in San Francisco. One of his clients was a pensioner who lived in a flop house in the North End. Climbing the stairs of the seedy hotel to help his fare to the cab he felt his legs collapse under him.

Somebody called the police. Since he couldn't stand, it was assumed that he was either drunk or under the influence of drugs and he was dragged down the stairs and dumped into a police car. His problem was similar to Jean's. The surgery, however, in his case was not successful and he remained paralized from the waist down.

He was sure that his encounter with the police had aggravated his problem and said he would sue. He may have gotten an appology but from what I heard him say I don't he could get much beyond that.

Jean's situation was not improving. She was transferred to a high vigilance CCU specializing in heart problems. During that period she was sent with an CCU nurse to get an MRI deep in the bowels of the hospital. On oxygen at the time there was quite a todo over finding a non magnetic oxygen tank. She could not maintain the position required for the shoot so we went back to the CCU. During the procedure, I removed my watch and wallet and put them behind the operators shield. The poor nurse forgot to take off her watch and it became magnetized.

The heart problem did run its course and she was sent back to the floor. At first the tracheostomy was a open tube limiting her ability to talk but as healing took place a cap was installed that forced the air through its normal path. The cap stayed in place during the day and was removed at night to allow maximum breathing while she slept.

A critical day arrived. A resident came in with a nurse. They eased Jean out of bed. Helping her to stand they asked her to take a step. Her feet just would not follow the instructions that the brain was sending them.

The verdict. She could bear weight on her legs but she lacked proprioception. Unless the latter improved with time and therapy she would be confined to a wheel chair. This of course was the future. The fact that she could still stand when she was held in an erect position at least made the job of assisting her much easier.

She wanted to go home. We both missed our kids. The doctors had prescribed an extensive program of rehabilitation. I told them our small hospital had one of the best in Dr. Herb Hendricks. Reluctantly, they released her.

2008-03-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

A ..new crisis.

I have traveled widely and without a doubt the most beautiful city I have seen is San Francisco.

Waking up at dawn in a room on the eighth floor of the hospital situated almost at the top of Twin Peaks the view in the background was the Bay Bridge already bumper to bumper with commuters' cars with headlights still twinkling on the top level and parades of trucks like elephants entering a circus tent on the lower level. As the sun rose, mist would rise unveiling the high rise buildings like a theater curtain on the opening act. From my angle the Transamerica Building with its thin spire seemed to be the tallest and the last one fully visible.

The hospital people in their wisdom placed the patient's beds in the far corner of the room so that none of this was visible to them.

One morning as I awoke and began perusing the panorama out my window I became aware of a rasping noise and quickly realized that Jean was gasping. I pushed the call button to summon the nurse but as minutes went by I went out into the hall and literally grabbed the first nurse I saw.

I told her the problem and her reply was, "You will have to wait because the doctors are all in a conference".

I just said to her, "This isn't right. I want a doctor here now."

In a matter of minutes a resident, a Brazilian with a very strong accent, arrived and did a cursory exam. I was a bit sceptical but reasoned that if he was accepted to learn under Charlie he must be good. He disapeared and soon a guerney arrived. Another trip to the surgery.

Jean's vocal cords were not operating properly causing a closing off of most of her air supply.
The surgery was a tracheotomy. An incission was made below the vocals cords, the muscles spread apart, and a plastic tube installed.

As a sidelight, this procedure was conceived not by a doctor but by a Walla Walla College student.

During Word War ll, every young man was subject to the military draft. There were exceptions for the physically unfit and for so called conscientious objectors. The test for the objectors were severe and few were successful.

The boys from Walla Walla College while refusing to bear arms volunteered as stretcher bearers subjecting themselves to great risk while rescuing wounded from the battlefield under enemy fire.

One, a pre-med student, found a soldier with a neck injury that impaired his breathing. Out of desperation the stretcher bearer reached into his pocket and with a pocket knife made an incision below the adams apple. He then used a barrel of a fountain pen to keep the airway open and staunch the bleeding saving the soldier's life.

To be continued

2008-02-13T14:52:00.000-08:00

An infection of "unknown etiology"

Bite the inside of your mouth while gnawing on a steak and healing takes place almost imediately. The inside of the spine is so much less likely to be exposed that there is little defensive mechanism especially against the pantheon of germs that tend to hang out in even the most sterile operating room.

While a surgical procedure that had failed at the University of Washington was completed successfully at Moffet, Jean was now running a high temperature.

I am not sure what the official name of a bug doctor is but one came to Jean's room and assured us that although they did not know exactly what pathogens were involved he would concoct a cocktail to "to whom it may concern".

Jean was injected with a dye that mingled with the infection and was wheeled to a lab containing an assembly of arcane scanners. The one they used on her resembled a kettle drum. A screen showed the infection congregated in various parts of her body particularly the lower abdomen.

The brew made up by the bug man clicked in over a period of days and that crisis was behind us. Some residual loss of hearing in one ear resulted.

At this point I had moved into Jean's hospital room on a cot provided by the hospital. It was a bit of a strain on me. The clean up crew came through about six a.m. and I was expected to have my bed made and my stuff in order subject to inspection by the head floor nurse.

2008-02-05T14:32:00.000-08:00

Did we blunder into a rerun of a Twilight Zone?

It was all very surreal.

A phone call, a physical, and zip within days we were transported from our daily lives to the office of Dr. Charles Wilson, neurological guru, yes, the world's foremost specialist in brain and spinal surgery. From his aerie on Twin Peaks in San Francisco he attracted neurological residents as well as patients from all over the world.

July 4th, 1985, as the staff of UCSF's Moffet Hospital did their workups on Jean I sat at an eight floor hallway window at dusk looking over Pacific Heights at the tops of the columns of the Golden Gate Bridge. As the skies darkened, I could see the canopy of sky rockets a part a fireworks display celebration at the Presidio.

The surgery, it was explained, consisted of inserting a tube the diameter of household sewing thread from the skull down the spine to the lower abdomen where the previously blocked spinal fluid would be absorbed and eventually excreted.

The work was done with the use of microscopes. The residents commenced the surgery exposing the site for"Charlie" who stepped forward to do do the fine work. I was told that on a typical case his job was finished in about three minutes. Because of the intensity of his concentration, he seldom exceeded twenty minutes on a case.

The morning of the surgery arrived. I was told that Jean would probably be taken to pre-op around 8 so I was there early. About 7 the nurse came in and said to relax the surgery would be at 10:30. A procession of nurses commenced with various workups. About 10:00 am the anethesiologist came into introduce himself and get some backround. Toward 11:00 a gurney arrived, the transfer was made and I walked as far as the door marked "authorized personel only".

Time wore on. I told the nurses I was going to the cafeteria for lunch as the noon hour had passed.

Seated at the table with my tray I glanced around the room recognizing the anathesiologist lunching at a nearby table. As he appeared to finish his meal I approached and asked him for news of my wife's case.

He informed me that some emergency situations had come up and it might be a while. He advised that I speak to the nurse in charge of pre-op using his name to request to be allowed to sit with her patient.

She took me into a room larger than most gymnasiums. The light was subdued. Along the walls and down the center were rows of gurneys, possibly one hundred or more. Each with a somnambulent form covered with a white blanket and a drip bag at its head dispensing anathesia.

Jean recognized me but promptly went back to sleep. An aid brought a chair. In the dim light I soon began to nod. The quiet was interupted from time time as a group of people in green uniforms with green hair nets, green booties and masks approached a gurney examed the paper work and wheeled the patient presumably into one of the surgical theatres. As the hours wore on an occasional new patient would be pushed in but on the whole the room began to appear empty.

At 5:45 with only two or three others still in the room, through the sea of emptiness the green men approached us and the sleeping Jean was scooted to the surgery entrance. I fell back returning to the eighth floor thinking about an article I had read in Readers Digest suggesting one have operations early in the day as the doctors tired as the day wore on.

2008-01-29T16:55:00.000-08:00

Charles Luce

Does it happen in real life or only in novels?

In the New York Times today there was a three column obit for Charles Luce, retired chairman of the Board of Con Edison.

On Monday nights in the 1950's I attended meetings of the Toastmaster Club in the old Grand Hotel in Walla Walla. Invariably, as I approached the Alder street entrance Chuck would be coming out of Shelton's bar and grill. What his tryste was there I guess I shall never know.

From small town lawyer to chairman of the board of the company that provides electricity to New York City and its greater area. Wow!

With a dam building splurge in the post World War ll period Indian tribes were losing their ancestral fishing grounds due to the flooding of the stream beds. They needed an advocate to press their case with the "The Great White Father in Washington" and this time they were not going to settle for a bag of trinkets.

Chuck was young, bright, and with little to lose took their case and with diligence and perserverence was able to obtain multi million dollar settlements for them up and down the Columbia and Snake Rivers.

Later he signed on to the presidential campaign of John F. Kennedy with the idea of a federal judgeship. Even the revered president spoke with forked tongue. He had already promised the judgeship to someone else.

However, in politics you do pay your debts. The consolation offered was to head the Bonneville Power Administration, a bureuocracy that administered the distribution of power produced by myriad federal dams in the Northwest including Idaho and Montana and through links to all the western states.

It was to be a parking place until a judgeship became open. Actually, after several months on the job, he was tapped for the chair of the prestigeous and remunerative private utility. As far as I know he never became a judge.

Reading of his passing opened memories for me.

As a result of large purchases of surplus pipe and steel in 1955 from the Hanford Works, BBS secured railside land at 2nd and Pine in Walla Walla. It was landlocked so we paid a small monthly fee to the fuel yard at the Pine street entrance. We also spilled over into nearby lots.

My late wife Jean and I visited Seattle in the late 1950's. Jean was trying on shoes at I. Magnin.
The salesman asked where we were from. When we said Walla Walla, he said he grew up there and still owned property.

A few weeks later I visited the storage yard and saw a man who looked familiar.

Who owns all this stuff he demanded.

When I indicated I was involved, he continued your on my land!

I recognized him as the shoe salesman from Seattle. I told him that if he would suggest a price I would be interested in buying.

He responded that $1000.00 was the price. Although the plot was landlocked and vertually worthless, it would have cost close to that to move all of our stuff. I agreed.

O.K. give me my money and I'm back to Seattle.

I explained that he would have to give me a quitclaim deed and we would need a lawyer.

I call Charley Snider's office. Charlie's secretary said he was out of town but to call Chuck Luce.

In Chuck's office we gave him the particulars and he said he would make up the paperwork and record it. $25.00 please.

I turned to the seller and said that it was usually the seller who paid the fees but seeing the look on his face I quickly added but I'll pay half.

A few years ago I was cleaning the basement at BBS. Flipping through some old bank statements. I saw the cancelled check for $12.50 on the obverse was the handwritten signature of Charles Luce.

As in the previous post, I wondered if it had a collector value but in the days before E-Bay I decided probably not enough to worry about.

I bought an adjoining piece that had been abandoned to the county for a bid of $600.00.

When the State of Washington took the land for the 2nd street offramp to the freeway, because we owned the property we received $6,000.00 for the property and $12,000.00 to move our stuff.

I never got a chance to thank the shoe guy for the $16,000.00 windfall.

2008-01-25T13:22:00.000-08:00

Have I told you this one?

Often an idea post occurs to me and by the time I get to the computer it has slipped from my 78 year old mind.

If you've heard this one stop me.

Uncle Dave and I shared an office. When business was quite we would sit and schmooze.

One day he pulled out his wallet and extricated a check. He examined it and then reported the following.

The Barer's had attended a party in Los Angeles and decided to spend some time in Palm Springs. I believe the year was 1973. A heart blockage was becoming a burden and Uncle Dave was spending his afternoons playing gin rummy with Senator "Maggie" Magnusen who also favored P. S. as a getaway spot.

The check was for $46.00 and represented a settlement on their series of game.

As the Senator was writing the check, he related this story.

It is a tradition in Washington, D. C. that when the president is in residence on Friday there is a late night poker game at the White House. It is an honor to be asked to sit in with the regulars who tend to be the movers and shakers of the administration.

While Maggie was a regular in the Lyndon Johnson era, he was thrilled as a young congressman to be invited to the game by the legendary President Franklin D. Roosevent.

At the end of the game the president summoned his aid, Steven Early to write checks settling his losses. The president always paid by check. He was a frugal man with his own funds and he reasoned that a check with his signature would not be cashed but kept as a memento or end up in the portfolio of a collector.

Uncle Dave asked me if Maggie was suggesting he not cash the check. I thought it might be a while before the Maggies signature would be worth $46.00.

The next question was, "Who is Winnie?"

Prior to leaving Palm Springs, Uncle Dave had called Maggie to tell him he was heading to Portland for open heart surgery.

First Winny now you was the response.

I wracked my brain and finally admitted that the only Winny I could think of was ex Governor of Arkansas and scion of the Rockefeller family, Winthrop Rockefeller who had fallen victim to a heart attack at that time.

He was visibly moved that he had been mentioned in the same breath as the grandson of the Standard Oil (Exxon) founder.

2008-01-02T20:49:00.000-08:00

Recently saw the movie "Charley Wilson's War".

The L. A. Times gave it a mediocre rating. I don't know if the reviewer and I saw the same movie.

The problem is that it is just too real as to the way congress works as well as the CIA, etc.

But let's talk about a different Charley Wilson or DR. Charles Wilson, professor of neurosurgery at Moffet Hospital in San Francisco. The hospital is staffed by the University of California Medical School(UCSF).

To backstep a moment Jeannie was beginning to have balance problems. On our 1984 trip to Washington, D. C. she was still walking on her own but was already noticing that looking up at the cherrie blossoms was difficult.

Most of the places we went we requested a wheel chair. At the White House we were taken up a freight elevator and wheeled through areas normally off limits to tourists to join a tour group.
Tom Foley assigned an intern to take us through the capitol building and we sat in the balcony at both houses of congress in the spaces usually reserved for the First Lady to observe democracy in action.

My old friend Tom Lantos took us to lunch in the congressional dining room, a special treat and even more special arranged for us to attend a rare joint house/senate committee meeting where
in the course of the CNN coverage we were seen on national TV.

As Jeannie's condition deteriorated we returned to U of W Medical School. The diagnosis this time was a blockage in the spine. The remedy for this was a threadlike tube inserted down the spine.

This was a breakthrough technique. Dr. Kelly explained that the night before the surgery he had met with the local neuralogical society to explain the surgery and that it would be broadcast live on a dedicated TV network for physicians to observe.

One problem- he couldn't get the tube through, there was too much scar tissue.

He kept mentioning the name, Charley, who had invented the technique. On a follow up visit I asked him if he thought Charley, himself, might be able to do the job.

Late in June we received a call from U of W Hospital advising
Jeannie to get a preop physical and to report on July 1 to Dr. Wilson at Moffet Hospital for further examination.

As a sidelight, Moffet Hospital is located on Twin Peaks, the heights overlooking San Francisco and one of the most expensive sections of ther city.

We booked a room in a refurbished hotel at the edge of Haight-Ashbury and across from Kesar Stadium where in my days in San Francisco the 49ers played football.

We had a brief meeting with the doctor. At the end of the meeting I asked if he would consider doing the surgery. He reponded that we were to report to the hospital the next day to prep for the operation the following day.

To be continued

2007-12-15T10:47:00.000-08:00

Sad to hear of the passing of Art Kulman. I knew him briefly at the University of Washington and we became reaquainted at R.O.M.E.O.s luncheons. That's Retired Old Men Eating Out for those who don't know.

One of our subjects of discussion was the fact that although in later life he had his own advertising agency he started in radio.

As a station manager he hired a young Burl Barer who introduced the new idea of a rock and roll format.

2007-11-27T14:52:00.000-08:00

Enough meandering-

As Jean's condition progressed the ivory tower savants at University of Oregon followed by the University of Washington were able to treat the symptoms but appeared to be at a loss to come up with the underlying condition that gave rise to the problem.

Again our neighbor and friend in Walla Walla, Dr. McClellen, solicited his friend Dr. Hendricks to intervene.

Herb Hendricks specialized in rehab and sports medicine. Operating the rehab facility in the hospital he frequently checked in on Jean when she was an in patient. He became aware of a frequent complaint of a pain in her back.

He invited her to do a series of tests with a device that located sources of pain. From the results of the test, he drew a map on her back pinpointing the most responding area.

Back to the U of W Hospital. Dr. Kelly, chief of neurosurgery looked at the map. A session with the flouroscope confirmed his "Aha".

The problem was a syringomylia. This is a cyst formed in the spinal cord known as a syrinx that expands and elongates over time and presses against the spinal cord causing a weakness in the extremities. This is often due to a congenital abnormality of the brain called a chiara 1 malformation.

The treatment of choice was to take a bit of muscle and place it over the entrance to the cyst. This is mycroscopic surgery of the most complex nature.

Actually, when the gurney arrived to take Jean to the operating room, she refused to go. She turned to me and said, '" I don't think I want to do this." She then asked what I thought she should do. As her closest advisor and rock of stability I responded that it was her call.

Dr. Kelly came to the room and spoke again of the risks of the procedure and avered that he didn't blame her for being reluctant and explained the downsides of not doing the surgery. He told her that the operating team was assembled and would await her decision. About twenty minutes later he came back and she consented to go ahead.

The operation was only partialy successful. The patch was gingerly put in place at the base of the brain but subsequent scans showed that there was not a perfect seal and some spinal fluid was still seeping into the cyst.

2007-11-13T11:01:00.000-08:00

George Koval

George Koval may not be a household name. In fact the CIA and FBI kept it buried for many years due to their embarasment . An article in yesterday's New York Times as the obituary of this Russian who spent his early years in the U.S., spoke American English without accent was able to as a non com with a false identity get assigned to the Manhattan Project working on the original atomic bomb during WWII. Later he was employed as a nuclear physicist at Los Alamos all the while transmitting secret information back to his Soviet handlers.

The thing that got me was Koval was identified as a "secular Jew". His parents had come to the U.S. when Koval was an infant as a fund raiser for the enclave at Birobidzan.

Birobidzan was to be a Jewish area in the Soviet. Jews from various parts of Russia would resettle their and persue their lives as an ethnic minority free from the pograms and prejudices of the greater Russian society. Many Jews from the U.S. emigrated to help "Uncle Joe" Stalin establish the working man's paradise.

Also funds were solicited in every Jewish community. This caused a bit of a problem for me.
Rummaging through some of my grandfather M's things I found a receipt for a membership contribution to Friends of Biorodizan. Intrigued, I did some research and discovered that this was one of many scams the new Soviet government used during the 1920's to harvest hard currencies for the regime.

When I received my army commision in 1951, there was a long list of organizations that I was to certify that not only I had not belonged but that I didn't know of anyone who had belonged. Of course Friends was one of them.

It took about two seconds for me to decide I was not going to betray my poor old deceased grandfather.

The other memory this article invoked was a conversation with my normally very laid back father.

This was a time after the execution of the Rosenbergs when protests were made asking for their exoneration. I mentioned this and also recalled that in my San Francisco days a Rabbi friend was chaplain to Alcatraz. He reported an encounter with inmate Sobel, part of the Rosenberg- Fuchs gang that passed nuclear secrets on to the Soviets.

Sobel maintained that they were doing the world a service creating a counterbalance to America's monoply on nuclear power and the punishments meted out by the courts deprived humanity the use of their brilliant minds.

Without a moments thought my dad who spent his first sixteen years in Russia countered, "For any Jew who would spy for Russia execution was too easy a punishment."'

2007-10-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

Would women today believe that the B'Nai B'Rith Women were condidered an auxillary of the men's lodge?

When the Walla Walla Men's lodge voted to turn in their charter the women recieved a letter that their charter was also voided.

To the men the"BB"was a social thing. They had poker games as fund raisers.

The women, mainly stay at home mom's, were another story. They networked and worked on a volunteer basis for the Red Cross and the Veteran's Hospital.

As world War II progressed, Walla Walla was the final training spot for B-17 bomber and later B-24 bomber crews. The men or mostly boys were single or married with their wife with them shared one thing they were away from home they were facing a long overseas posting in a combat situation.

The synagogue was full every Friday night. Several marriages took place there.

Service men were invited into homes and life long friendships were formed.

The U.S.O was an off post gathering place for off duty service men and the BB women served as surrogate moms to many many lonely fellows.

During the years of the BB women there were frequent get togethers with each woman bringing a portable electric oven usually full of sweet and sour cabage rolls or brisket. An ample meal was followed by cards or other socializing.

The big event that brought all of the members out was the "Rummage Sale."

The planning for a major invasion paled before networking that took place before a BB rummage sale. It was rumored that some members bought items at department store sales just so they could have a suitable donation. Of course there was a shakedown of local merchants for their overstock items.

There was always a lineup of "doorbusters" looking for underpriced treasures. The word on the street was that the BB sale was the one to attend for the best in upscale recycled clothing and household good.

The sale went two or three days yielding three to five hundred dollars or more after paying rental of a vacant storefront.

Most church rummage sales at that time yielded far less. I asked a ladies at other sales what they made and they were happy get $25.00 to $100.00.

Nothing was marked and it was strictly a barter situation of prices and counter offers.

The Jewish community in Walla Walla has had ebbs and flows. Today there is a resurgence.

I don't know if there will be another era like the one I remember.

2007-10-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

In old Walla Walla

Each night as my Dad would come into the house after work he would go throught the litany- What's new with Dorothy? How's Sadie? How's Violet. Did you speak to Leona or Clara?

This was a bit of a tweak on my mother's close relationship and her daily phone calls with the "girls".

Like teenagers, the girl's made the rounds by telephone planning social events, charitable activities, Mah Jong games, etc.

Other's came and went and some just didn't participate in the A phone circuit but were part of the sisterhood anyway.

The history of Jewish people in Walla Walla goes back as far as Walla Walla itself. Shortly after the valley was reopened for settlement following a ban after the Whitman masacre, the Schwabachers moved up from The Dalles and made the community the headquaters for their retail chain that extended through most of the towns in the area from Boise on the East to the village of Seattle on the West where there son in law Bailly Gatzaert also served as mayor. They eventually moved on selling their flagship store to their manager who renamed it Gardener's.

My earliest memories are of my mother and Aunt Dorothy under the watchful eyes of the ölder hands" like Mrs. Chernis, Mrs. Youdavitch, the Gorfkles putting together the chartering of the B'Nai B'rith Lodge and Auxillary along with families from Pendleton and Baker, Oregon, the Tri Cities and I believe as far away as Yakima.

The occasion took place at the old Odd Fellows Hall on Fifth and Main which was torn down many years ago. The sponsoring group was the Spokane Lodge.

The charter presenter was Bessie Copeland, Aunt Dorothy's mother. Mrs. Copeland was an officer and eventually president of District #4 of the order. District#4 encompassed the states of Washington, Oregon, California and I believe some of the peripheral states as well the province of Brittish Columbia.

Whoops got off the track again. More to follow.

2007-10-24T10:57:00.000-07:00

It is hard to imagine life without Aunt Dorothy.

From the time I took to the stage to show off my new but undeveloped tap dancing skills at my aunt's and uncle's wedding at the age of five, Aunt Dorothy has been so much a part of my life.

As a new bride, she invited me to dinner at the new Barer residence at the Birchway Apartments, evidently baby sitting me while my parents were out. She was so gracious and I was so impressed that when the Birchway property came up for sale many years later I bought it.

It was one of the few times Uncle Dave really took me to the woodshed about a stupid buy and he was right!

I don't know if you could call it the Barer neighborhood but my grandmother and my Aunt and Uncle all lived within an easy walk of each other. Grandfather had made the move from 28 W. Chestnut to 1217 E. Isaacs not too many months before he died. Jan inherited 1217 and sold it to the school district so the the house is gone and the land is part of the Green Park school playfield.

I spent alot of time at the D. Barer residence. As a quiet kid, I found my aunt very easy to talk with probably overdoing it as one day as I was leaving she mentioned that she hated it when people said they were leaving and then stood around and yacked. I got the message.

More recently we were joint owners of a piece property. I paid the bills and Aunt Dorothy would reimburse me so her standard greeting when I would call would be, "So what do I owe you this time?" It was our joke.

2007-10-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

The customer is always right.

Just finished, I hope, a misunderstanding with a phone kiosk operator at the discount warehouse

Jean got tired of being jerked around and talked to a few management people and finally found one who put his foot on the neck of the offender and he made things right.

As we plugged in the final computer entries I had a flashback probably sixty or more years ago.

The main store front at our place was sixty feet from the front door to the rear. Behind was a driveway between the store and the warehoue.

In those days a popular product was steel wire rope cable used for loading hay.

I was standing in the driveway with my dad and Uncle Dave when a man approached.

Throwing a role of cable on the ground he asserted that the cable was no good and he wanted his money back.

Uncle Dave examined the cable and responded that there was an appearance of abuse while being used.

The man flew into a rage. "I knew you Jew Sons of ----". He didn't finish his statement.

Uncle Dave spun the man who was at least as tall as he was. Picked him up by his belt and collar and "bums rushed" him the sixty feet to the front door propelled him out where he lost his balance and fell. As the man gathered his wits, the roll of cable came flying out after him and the door slammed behind him.

The other onlookers present began debating as to whether the guy should have been beat up on the premises or whether there was a liability incurred by throwing him out on a public street.

I, of course, was taken aback this was totally out of character but it was explained to me that the merchandise was purchased prior to haying season and now that the season was over and the cable had been used and abused the guy wanted his money back.

The ethnic slur was not to be tolerated.

2007-10-09T17:12:00.000-07:00

No report on the rogue's gallery in the Human Resources dept of B. Barer & Sons would be complete without mention of E-- who at last notice was enjoying three hot and a cot courtesy of the Washington State Department of Corrections.

E-- had a speech impediment. Normally I wouldn't mention this except for the fact that when pressed he spit out the pebbles and became a Demothenese.

The love of his life was L-- and he idolized his son, Michael.

L-- had a friend in Pasco, forty five miles away, when she fought with E-- she would visit her friend. She would call E-- and inform him that she and the friend had only beer in the house and Michael was crying because he had not eaten all day.

E-- would race to Pasco only to find the doors locked and no response. He would rap on the front door and bang on the back door only to be confronted by a policeman summoned by L--.

The first time this happened I drove to Pasco and paid his fine in lieu of a long stay in jail on charges of harrasment.

After that, I told him that if he was dumb enough to bite on her scam again he could sit in jail.

The only problem was that after he had finished his term I rehired him.

He then used a derelict truck I used for transfering scrap around the scrapyard to drive to

Pasco for another confrontation with L--. A Highway Patrol flagged him down about the beat

up machine that violated every rule in the book. He was able to plead a dire emergency and get

away with it.

Eventually, I told him enough was enough. Hewas very vindictive about being sacked and

began a campaign of vandalism against me.

And L--. She became infatuated with Steve. At least once or twice a week around ten in the

evening the doorbell would ring. Steve would hide and a drunken L-- would demand to see

him. I would assure her that Steve had gone to sleep due to a very early morning appointment

and eventually she would leave.

2007-09-22T15:20:00.000-07:00

Just returned from memorial services praying for for departed family and the memory of Jean Granek Barer is still fresh on my mind.

I sometimes wonder if it is really in order to report on her travails but in the spirit of her "I should write a book" I will continue.

The revision of the shunt provided a bulb at the back of her head. From time to time grains in the spinal fluid would clog the tube reviving the symptoms that took place before the shunt was installed. By taking both hands and pressing on the tiny bulb one could force a stream through the tube and possibly dislodge the obstruction.

The doctors showed me how to do this but believe me I was never comfortable doing it.

The bulb failing the next step was to drive to Seattle and have a neurosugeon flush the tube with a saline solution. We made the trip several times over the years.

Jean figured that in the first year she had twelve different procedures that required a day or more in the hospital.

Thank god for Walla Walla Valley Medical Insurance. Not only would the medical bills have put me into bankruptcy but the paperwork would have driven me crazy. I let them fight with providers about costs and minutinae.

From time to time I would receive a call from a voice at WWVM informing me that a new level of service was available at an increase in premium. I would just tell them to go ahead and lay it on me.

I don't want to shock anyone who pays medical insurance but our initial premium was $15.00 per month. The plan was a hangover from the union days at WAitsburg Welding Works. It actually cost $45.00 because I had to bring my mother and Aunt Dorothy into the plan to get it reactivated.

I am getting a bit ahead of the story but at one point Valley Medical sent me a letter advising me that I was to go to a special high risk program funded by the state of Washington and costing about $800.00 per month due to the fact they they had spent over $300,000.00 more then premiums on us.

I spoke to Uncle Arnie about the problem. He advised me that from time time there were reenrollment programs. I was to hop aboard if one came along.

A new insurance commisioner was elected. One of her first acts was a blanket reenrollment.
Our premiums went down drastically but more important our policy was split in two. Previously the policy was in my name and would cease when I went on Medicare since I would flip to the federal program. This gave Jean her own policy and continued her coverage when I turned 65.

2007-09-17T11:42:00.000-07:00

I was just reviewing some previous postings and picked up on Burl's mention of the Davey brothers.

When one of the brothers took home the keys to the warehouse where we stored our copper and other high value metals, I was able to track him to a trailer in an upscale trailer park where he was apparently boarding with a family. He appeared chagrinned and handed me the keys. I wrote it off as a mistake.

When I received a call from our friendly competitor, Bill Gehrky, informing me that the boys had just visited him in my truck offering to sell him a load of scrap metal they were transporting from a customer to my yard, I decided that I had had enough of the Davey brothers and they were history.

I can't remember the name of the other young fellow who I had as store manager for a while who spirited a $1500. 00 welding machine off the sales floor while he was alone in the store and hocked it at Valear's across the alley.

It was alleged that he had participated with the Daveys in other petty thievery. After I suggested that he replace the machine imediately and then clear out, Burl reported that the man had visited his house as a representative of the gas company making adjustments on gas appliances in people's homes.

2007-08-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

Oops, sorry to interrupt, now back to the story

The Walla Walla Clinic had hired some new doctors.

The one assigned to Jean took me aside and asked me why I had traveled to Portland for care when we had such a great medical school in Seattle.

I found that these guys also had personal contacts at U.W. Med. School.

With problems still persisting we made an appointment and checked in.

The first thing done after the patient was signed in, had blood drawn, and set up in a room was a visit from a young resident. He had a tray with a kit and as he informed me that he had never done the procedure before, I opted to stay and watch.

I learned why visitors are asked to leave the room while the doctor is working.

The resident had Jean sit up and turn her back to him. He then selected a hypodermic needle and counted down the ribs. After marking the spot he pushed the needle into the marked spot and removed the plunger part allowing the almost clear spinal fluid to flow into a beaker.

He explained the importance of using just the right size needle to control the flow.

He went on to explain that in the original surgery the Oregon neurosurgeons had run the drain from the shunt into the thorax where a protein reaction had ensued causing a buildup of the spinal fluid requiring, I believe it was called thorocentesis, removal at least a litre of spinal fluid.

A new surgery was done utilising the stub into the brain but using an updated pump and a tubing size that maintained a pressure closer to her natural pressure.

Also the tube was fed into the atrium of the heart so the fluid would be carried in the bloodstream.

2007-08-15T22:05:00.000-07:00

Dan asked me about the musical "Young Frankenstein"

Y.F. has been put together and is being tried out in Seattle at the Paramount Theatre.

It is a real treat to have real Broadway pros on the local stage although the Seattle theatre scene does not lack in the quality of its talent.

Dan, if you haven't already looked it up the name of the monster player is Shuler Hensley.

At just shy of three hours running time there obviously will need to be some cutting of scenes before it hits Broadway.

The dance numbers are superb.

There may be a few people in this world who do not appreciate Mel Brooks' schmutzic, vaudeville gag laden genre but they surely were not in the sell out audience Sunday. If the area between the seats would have been wider a majority of the occupants would have been off their seats and rolling on the floor.

Another Producers? Very possibly.