Schetter's

On the way home from Church the other night with our son Jim and his wife, Joyce, Jim said, “On your blog, Dad, why not tell about some of your experiences with radios at Schetter’s?”

Since I’m always looking for new ideas on what to write about, this struck me as a possible good idea that I had not considered. This has been common with me. Many of the postings I have made (58 since last November) came about after a suggestion, or thought, or idea, - seemingly “out of the blue” - as this one is. And, sometimes suggestions from someone else.

So………what about “Schetter’s”?

When I returned home from Manila at the end of World War II, having installed, checked and repaired aircraft radios during that war, Bob Schetter, the Town Jeweler in Mechanicsburg, offered me a position repairing home radios. I had known Bob before my stint in the Army, and then he laughingly indicated that when I came home, maybe he could use me as a radio repairman. He was doing some of it, while repairing watches/clocks and running a Jewelry Store - R. W. Schetter Jewelry. The offer “panned out”.

Of course, with no other job readily available, and the repairing still fresh in my mind, I took him up on the idea, and joined him in his store.

To let the townsfolk know about my radio repairing, Bob took out an ad in the local paper, The Daily Telegram. (Later, it became weekly, and still later, moved out of town. ) I remember the ad as being not a very big one, and though I can’t remember all it said, the basic wording was: “Expert Radio Repair”. Some of my friends kidded me about being an “expert”. That didn’t matter.

Before long, radios began “trickling in” for repair.

I think the thing that MOST helped my repair business, was the popular radio “Soap Operas”, sponsored by Ivory Soap; Dreft; Oxydol; et al. If their radios went bad, those housewives “had a fit” until they were repaired. I got the radios right after they quit.

Over time, I learned a little secret that endeared me to those housewives. While I had their radios, after getting them to work again, I turned on the Soap Operas in the shop and listened - to be sure they were REALLY repaired. I had several working at the same time tuned to different programs, so that, if one quit, I would notice it right away.

(You understand, that if they were all tuned to the same program, one or more of them could quit without my knowing it.)

The REAL benefit to them was that, when I returned the repaired radios to them, I found out what “Soap” they listened to, and filled them in on what had transpired while I had their radio.

They were THRILLED!

I listened to “Ma Perkins” (along with Shuffle Shofer); “Lorenzo Jones” (with wife Belle. “Lorrrennnzo!”, she‘d say.); “Just Plain Bill“; “Pepper Young's Family”, starring Mason Adams as Pepper; “Arthur Godfrey”; et al. And, for the kids, “Jack Armstrong, the All American Boy”, et al; and in the evening, “Lowell Thomas“; “Amos ‘n’ Andy” and “Lum and Abner”, with their Jot ‘em Down Store, along with their friendly competitor, Dick Huddleston. My memory of these last ones was: starting at 6:45PM was Lowell Thomas; 7:00 PM, Amos ‘n’ Andy; and at 7:15, Lum ‘n’ Abner; then there was “One Man’s Family”; “Suspense”; “The Shadow”; “Major Bowes Amateur Hour”, et al, in the evening.

(A few days after starting this posting, I remembered more about “Lorenzo Jones”. He was an inventor. Some of his “inventions”: Steam heated streets, which was a disaster; and a speed control for the car that when a certain speed was exceeded, the car recording would say, “Take it easy Bub”. As you may have guessed, when Lorenzo tried it, the “voice” rattled him so, that he had a wreck. All of his “inventions” were disastrous.)

I KNOW there were other programs that my feeble brain can’t come up with now, but you get the idea.

(By the way, I use the term “et al” all the time. It occurs to me that not everyone is aware of what that means, or at least, what I mean when I use it. Literally, it means, “and others”. It implies that there are more, if I could just remember them.)

As I mentioned in a previous posting, I smoked Lucky Strike cigarettes at that time - and, eventually got up to over 2 packs (40 cigarettes) a day. It turned out that “in between puffs”, I fixed the radios. (Maybe not that bad, but you get the idea.) After some puffs, I laid the cigarette down on the bench, and when I didn’t pick it up quickly enough, it burned a brown/black spot on the bench.

You say, “Why didn’t Bob caution you about that?”

Well, Bob smoked also. He and his wife both smoked Raleigh Cigarettes, with “cork tips”, each pack with a coupon on the outside, that could be redeemed for small gifts. He laid HIS cigarette down on his bench, also, though he may have used an ash tray more than I. His bench was marred also.

Fixing the radios was pretty simple: you tested tubes; checked voltages; watched for shorted capacitors, or a charred resistor. Sometimes a coil would burn out, but not very often. Couldn’t do without my trusty “Simpson 360 Multimeter” for voltage, current and resistance tests.

I don’t recall how much we charged for fixing the radios, but it surely wasn’t much. Things were a lot chaper then - just compare the then cost of cigarettes at 15 cents a pack, or $1.35 a carton of ten packs, to today’s prices.

Eventually, most of the radios in town were fixed, and business slowed down a bit, so Bob Schetter taught me how to repair large wall and mantel clocks. I was later graduated to #16 and # 18 pocket watches.

The wall and mantel clocks had large springs. It order to fix the clock, you had to “unwind” the spring. Well, not really “unwind” it, but it had to be released from pressure. To do that, Bob had some large metal one piece round rings,



with an opening that permitted it to be inserted around the large clock spring after it was tightened, then the latch on the gear was released, and the spring expanded to the size of the ring.

With the springs disabled, you could take the clock apart. Most clocks had two springs - one for the time, and another for the chime.

The outside of the clock works was two brass plates, with holes drilled in them, just the size of the “pinions” on the wheels. (Each “wheel” needed different sized holes, of course.)

The result of wear on a clock and/or watch, is in the hole in which the pinion is inserted. With wear, the hole expands, and the wheel and pinion can’t turn properly. They’re “off center”. Fine watches have “jewels” for bearings, and they don’t wear. Still need oil, though.

How to make the holes smaller? You might use what a supervisor of mine - Leigh Robinson - sometimes called a “put on tool”. You just use it to “put on” some brass in that hole. Except, or course, there wasn’t such a tool made.

If the hole is too big, how do you make it smaller?

You close it, that’s how. With a “closing punch”. The punch had a hole in one end, that was larger than any of the holes in the clock. The edges of that hole were sharp and sloped, so when hit with a hammer over a clock wheel hole (laid on a steel railroad bar), the brass around the hole “closed up” - not all the way of course - but enough that the wheel pinion could not be put in it.

Then, using “trial and error”, one uses a “reaming tool”, or actually, an “awl”, to gradually ream out the hole to make it round, so the wheel pinion could turn freely in it, but not “wobble”. Trial and error.

That had to be done to all the wheel pinions - at least where testing revealed some wear. (The wheels closest to the spring went “out of round” first. More pressure there.)

The next trick is to get the clock, wheels, pinions, and escapement back together, with all the pinions in the right holes at the same time, and the plates “screwed” back on. (NOT an easy feat!)

What about the springs? Well, you used the clock key and tightened the springs - one at at time - to make the spring small enough to take off the metal ring.

Then, each bearing had to be oiled - to forestall further wear. The escapement also.

Complicated? You bet. But, wait until you get to the smaller pocket watches, then small wrist watches. The same procedure was done for all - at least it was 60 plus years ago.

Whew!

In 1949 or 1950, I believe (don’t hold me to the years), Television hit Mechanicsburg. WLW-TV in Cincinnati began televising the Cincinnati Reds home baseball games.


Mechanicsburg was, and, I suppose still is, a “Reds Town”. People began going to
Columbus or Dayton to buy TV sets. When they broke, they wanted them to be fixed.

Bob paid for me to go someplace (I don’t remember where), to get trained as a TV technician. Then, he decided to SELL TV sets, as well as radios. My “repair” life changed forever. Radio repair decreased considerably.

Eventually, I got so I could repair the television sets, and we were “off to the races”.

Before I got to fixing the small pocket watches, by the way, I bought out the radio/TV part of the business, and opened Maddex Radio and TV. Earlier, I mentioned my selling that business, and entering into the Radio Ministry.

That was “Schetter’s.”, in 1946 - 1952.

Exercising For Seniors

Ok……Here’s a potential controversial subject for us old timers.

We all KNOW we should exercise. We are FOR it. We want our FAMILY members to do it. We’ll feel better AFTER we do it. Etc.

But, starting it - and continuing it if we do - is another matter.

From time to time, “down through the years”, (Does that sound like me, or what?), I’ve done “push-ups”, “sit-ups”, “body twists”, etc. One time, maybe ten or more years ago, I did “push-ups” often enough to finally reach 100 of them at one time. I must add, however, that my Grandson Jimmy - who did them in the Army - said I was cheating, since I didn’t go clear down almost to the floor after each push. I just figured that if I bent my elbows, then straightened them again and lifting my body, it was a “push-up”. At any rate, cheating or not, my arms were worn out after 100 of whatever I was doing. Even at my age 10 years ago, just pushing my body up and down with my arms 100 times was a “miracle” to me.

If we live by ourselves, it’s ESPECIALLY hard to start exercising - and continuing. We need motivation.

Family members can help in that, by suggesting: “Better walk again today, Dad.” “Keep up the exercising, Grandpa!” “Did you do any push-ups today, Myron?”

Or, if you live in a Senior Citizens facility, they might have a regular exercise program involving several other “procrastinators”.

Interesting that I should mention that. We DO have an exercise program here at The Grand Court Assisted Living Facility. (So far, I don’t really need the “Assisted” part, but undoubtedly I will, eventually.)

The program is offered 5 days a week, at 10AM, for a half hour. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen from 5 to 15 participants.

Timi Neff, our “Lifestyle Program Director” coordinates these and other Activities at this Facility. She leads the Exercising, called “Grand Court Energisers”. I just noticed that on this month’s Calendar, it’s called “Movement is Medicine” also.




These are not “heavy lifting” exercises. They’re not designed to build up muscles. They merely keep our bodies “tuned up”, and assist in “keeping our blood flowing”.



(If you "double-click" on this picture, you can see the white shirt guy in the middle is me. This is "evidence", and "proof".)

These “body parts” are affected: Arms, legs, fingers, back, feet, neck, shoulders, and any other “movement” muscles. We even exercise our faces, by over-emphasizing the sounds of the vowels.

I can tell when a particular exercise is helpful to me at that time, by the “grunt” or “groan” I emit when I do it.

After Timi takes us through the exercises she wants to emphasize that day, she asks each of of us to suggest one, and then we ALL do it - whatever is suggested.

An important part of it is breathing while exercising, and then at the end, the “cool down” procedure. That comprises our massaging our foreheads, temples, cheeks, jaws, chins, neck, arms, and then, reaching clear down to our feet on the floor.



(I'm the white shirt on the right.)

As an incentive for us, Timi has posted a “Rogue’s Gallery” list (not her designation, but mine), that lists all of our names, and a record of the days we have “showed up”. I was told that I would receive a “Grand Court Energisers” T shirt for attending 20 sessions. By now, it’s 27, I think. I’ve only missed four since I’ve been here - 3 when I helped at WEEC’s SHARATHON, and another for personal reasons.





I guess I “feel better” after all of these sessions - at least my muscles, legs and arms move smoothly. The long term (accumulative) benefit is what I appreciate.

I’m always reminded of the Scripture that says “Know ye not that your bodies are the members of Christ?” I Cor. 6:15. And, “glorify God in your body” I Cor. 6:20.

Missionaries

In the years since Jean and I became Christians in 1951, we have known scores of Missionaries. Some of them we knew (or know) “up close”; others as part of our church’s support team; still others by reputation.

By just mentioning the word “Missionary”, a flood of memories rushes in. My problem now is to not forget those who come to mind, before I can mention them here.

A brief definition of a missionary described by “Wikipedia” states:

“A missionary is one who is a member of a religion who works to convert those who do not share the missionary’s faith…..”

Pretty basic, right?

Christian missionaries, then feel "called of God”, to share their faith in Christ, with whomever they can, or come in contact with. Some go to a foreign country, and some stay right near home. In reality, those of us who “belong to Christ”, should share the message of Christ with anyone available. Not every christian is “ordained” formally, but all are “called” to “give a reason for the hope that lies within us.”

Having said that, I want to make it clear that in this post, I want to emphasize the “full-time missionary”, whose “full-time job” is sharing Christ.

I’m trying to remember the name of the first missionary to a foreign land that we knew, who took his family to Brazil 60+ years ago, and “evangelized” by using a boat on the Amazon River. I now remember that they were stationed at Belem, Brazil. (You might guess that I’m “stalling”, trying to remember their names.) They were “supported” by our local church, and when on furlough, visited us and told of their ministry. Actually, I’m also trying to come up with the name of one of the former members of that church, who might remind me of the name. Sadly, most of those folk who MIGHT help me, are now gone. I did just now find one of the “young people” of that day - Doris Bess. And though - like me - she remembers the family, but can’t yet come up with the name. Probably not important to have the actual name.

The next one who comes to mind is a maiden lady from Chicago, who, just out of High School and some training, went to India as a missionary. Before I forget it, I’d better quickly mention that her name was Victoria Christenson.

When we met her, she had just returned home for the last time, after 45 years in India. She was a soft-spoken Swedish lady, who had a lifetime “heart” for those un-saved in India.

We were “struck” by the story she told of God’s Provision during that time.

(Just now, the first name of the Missionary to Brazil came to mind - George - followed in 3 minutes by Norton - his last name. Doris confirms the last name, but is not sure about the first.)

Victoria said that at age 19, when she was just ready to leave for India, a long time friend and his wife told her that they would be praying for her, and that they wanted to provide something for her to take with her.

The man then gave her a sealed envelope, and told her that she was not to open it, UNTIL she became discouraged, and felt she couldn’t go on. She mentioned that she always kept that envelope with her, and frequently wondered if this were the time to open it. Each time, she resisted the temptation, trusting God to Provide.

Now - after 45 years - she reached in her purse and showed us an old envelope - tattered from being carried around - that was STILL sealed, having NEVER been opened. She said, “God’s Grace and Provision” are sufficient. She then vowed NEVER to open it.

After these two missionary families, I'd now like to discuss the missionaries that have been my friends for 44 years - Ken and Karen Anderson.

Both of them are graduates of Moody Bible Institute - he from the Missionary Radio Course, she from the General Bible Course.

They met at Moody, and upon Ken’s graduation in 1963, he came to WEEC and became the FIRST overnight announcer there. A month later they were married. Karen worked in the office. Six months later, Ken became the station’s Chief Engineer - the type of work he was trained for at MBI. In addition to other duties, after I arrived in 1965, Karen typed my letters.

Ken kept WEEC going - technically - until 1969 when the Lord called them to serve in Sao Paulo, Brazil with the newly formed Brazilian Evangelistic Association mission. The Board of WEEC voted to send them partial support for their evangelistic work in Brazil.

The bulk of their work involved audio recordings, as well as Christian movies, in Portuguese, the local language. In this way, evangelizing for Christ.

I could list many of the different ministries and successes of BEA, but my emphasis now is upon Ken and Karen, rather than their ministry.

In all of these years of knowing them, as well as scores of other missionaries, I’m struck by the utter “blind” faith of these two - and eventually, their whole family. Other missionaries, as well as some “ordinary” Christians, exhibit this “faith” tendency too, but the ones I know about are Ken and Karen.

Those close to missions and missionaries, know that the regular financial support of missions is “sporadic”, to say the least. They go to the “field” with a certain level of support promised, only to find that not all of the “promised” support materializes - at least not for the whole term. There’s always a need for more support.

An additional problem for them is the changing currency locally - as related to the “dollar”. The “exchange rate” fluctuates regularly, and one never knows what funds to expect.

In spite of this “fluctuation”, and some “slipping” support from home, THEY HAVE BEEN PROVIDED FOR. And God, through their faith in Him, has provided what is needed.

In some of their projects, they have need of “extra” funds - not expected. They have notified their supporters, and they came through. Ken and Karen EXPECT God to supply!

They have two sons born before going to Brazil, and one who was born in Brazil - having “dual” nationality.

The older two live in Ohio, and the youngest one returned to Brazil as a missionary with BEA - and found a wife in Sao Paulo.

They now have 12 grandchildren - all of whom have experienced God’s Provision - just like Mom and Dad.

Though now stationed at Tampa FL - the Home Office of the mission they have been “lent” to - Bible Basics International - Ken has made several mission trips to Honduras (where they both served for several years also), as well as Bolivia, where Ken has helped with technical support for a Missionary Radio station there. Much of this after they have reached retirement age.

All of these trips are financed by promised gifts of their friends and some churches, and they don’t hesitate to commit to the field trips BEFORE they have the slightest idea where the funds will come from.

They could cite several instances of the “Provision of God”, but rather than specifics, I want to generally Praise God for His Provision for them, and commend them for their “great faith”.

“But my God shall supply all your need according to His Riches in Glory by Christ Jesus.” Phil. 4:19

(Note: When in First Draft form I shared this with Ken and Karen, for them to correct any facts I “posited” [inside joke], they said, “Thanks for being so kind in your comments about us, and for giving God the glory. It is all due Him!”)

Praise the Lord for His Faithfulness!

Here are Ken and Karen, along with Karen's mother - Gladys Neis - who just passed away at age 99.

Easter Egg Hunt

The Senior Citizen facility I live in called The Grand Court, sponsored an Easter Egg Hunt for all of us residents.

WRONG!

Actually, it was for our Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren. We were supposed to just sit in the chairs and benches and watch. Well, maybe not all of us "sat around and watched."

My Granddaughter Jodi, and her son Rylan had lunch with me here, then, at 2PM, we were joined by maybe 30 other boys and girls - of all ages - and the Grandparents sitting in chairs beside the lawn to watch. Here's Rylan and Friend.



Ever hear of sack races? You know, the kids put both feet in a “gunny sack”, line up together, then race - hopping all the way? Kids?

Here’s one of them:



Who is that OLD guy? He’d better have help, or he might fall might fall and break his hip - or some other important joint.




Well, he DID fall, and look at him on the ground!


Somebody help him up!

I don’t know how many hundred plastic eggs were on the grounds, but all the kids found them.

There were other activities, such as: Pinning the tail on the bunny; and a Bunny Pinada that all the kids swatted at. It finally broke up, and the candy fell to the ground, followed by the kids to pick up the pieces.

One of the Grand Court workers took this picture of Jodi, Rylan and me, on the same day.


There is probably no greater joy for Grandparents (and Great-) than to see their grandchildren having fun. There were walkers, wheel chairs, canes and plenty of chairs/benches for us to sit on. They all laughed at me when I fell - unhurt!

You don’t care if this is a short posting, do you?

I was sure you didn’t.

Christ is Risen!

(He is risen, indeed!)

Distant Cousins

Wait a minute! “Distant” here doesn’t mean 4th or 5th cousins. It refers to the “distance” they are from me. Kind of like a “trick” of me, isn’t it? (Well, I have to do something to attract attention to the blog.)

Though there are many “cousins” who could be described as “distant” in miles from me, the two I want to talk about now are Rick and Sue Talbot, my second cousins from Connecticut.

Try to follow me here: Sue is the daughter of my First Cousin, Kathryn Ann Fitzgivens Barker, who was the daughter of my dad’s sister, Almeda Fitzgivens. Sue, therefore, is my Second Cousin.

Still on board?

Sue, as well as her mom and dad, have ALWAYS lived in Connecticut. Her dad is Jack Barker, who married Kathryn Fitzgivens. They met in the Navy. Jack was born in London, grew up in New Jersey, then moved to Connecticut to work - spending years in the steel industry, in management positions.

Down through the years (doesn’t that sound like me - an old timer?), the Barkers visited Ohio to see Sue’s Grandmother, Almeda, and other family members. I remember seeing them several times at her house. Sadly, both Almeda and Kathryn have passed on, and we only have memories of them. Though Kathryn (“Kay” to Jack) passed away in Florida, Almeda died in Urbana, and I conducted her funeral.

“So, Mike, why are you bringing up only a pair of your cousins, when you have a “slew” of them?”

Well, after not seeing them for over 20 years (probably more), when my sister Miriam moved into the same Mobile Home Park as Jean and me, Sue and Rick showed up one day at Miriam’s door. Long lost cousins!

They did more than “show up”. They dug right in and helped Miriam (over 90 years of age) do everything she needed to do. Especially, after she decided to enter the Ohio Masonic Home. They took her on rides, visited our old hometown of Mechanicsburg with her, and had “a jolly old time” - at least Miriam did.

When finally Miriam decided that at her age, she might need some extra help getting around, cleaning house, fixing meals, etc., she decided to enter the Ohio Masonic Home.

This is where Sue and Rick excelled.

I don’t mean to indicate that they were the only ones who helped, because Miriam’s long time friends and financial counselors from Phoenix, came, just before she moved in.

But, Rick and Sue were the ones who stayed, and helped her get settled. They put pictures on the wall, got her a desk, an overstuffed chair (which I inherited), a digital clock, some clothes and anything else that she needed, to get settled.

Since Jean and I lived in the same Mobile Home Park as Miriam, we were with them quite a lot - and enjoyed the local travels and sight seeing. When our Granddaughter Kelly brought our two great-grandchildren here to celebrate birthdays at Chuck E. Cheese’s Pizza Parlor, Rick, Sue and Miriam joined Jean and me in celebrating. Though I crawled through the “tubes” with the kids, they watched and enjoyed.

The time finally came when Miriam went to be with the Lord, at age 92. Since Miriam no longer needed their fellowship or help, we haven’t seen them since. That’s not to say we’ve lost contact with them. We e-mail a lot, and talk on the phone occasionally. We exchange cards and family info.

Sue’s dad, Jack Barker, lives in Florida, where he and Kathryn settled quite a while before Kathryn passed. At vacation time, Rick and Sue “crank up” their large pick-up and large travel trailer, and visit Jack in Florida for a month or two.

The last time they were there, I tried to convince them to stop by Springfield on the way home to Connecticut. Sue laughed, and said, “You’re just like Miriam. It must be a family thing. To drive to Springfield ‘on the way home’ would be an extra 1,400 miles for us.”

Right!

But, intrepid senior citizen that I am, I wouldn’t “take that lying down”, so I e-mailed them the other day, with a “vacation offer” I think they can’t refuse. I sent them a list of places they could visit if they came here this summer on vacation.

Places? How about

Air Force Museum; Armstrong Space Museum; Columbus Museum of Science and Industry; Ohio State University; Dayton Art Museum; Holmes County Amish Country; Cincinnati Zoo; Columbus Zoo; Indianapolis Speedway; WEEC; and the memorable city of Mechanicsburg OH, et al.

The final results of this quest of mine aren’t available yet, but I did get an encouraging e-mail at 11 o’clock last night that said,
“Oh boy! Very compelling, Cousin Mike.”

Ya know what? I THINK they’re gonna come.

Time will tell.

“Cousin Sue, COME ON DOWN!”

School Happenings

Every once in awhile, I get “flash backs” of something that happened to me, or others, in School. Most of them are short, and wouldn’t take up a whole posting on this blog.

Just now, however, I thought of just writing out my memories of each of these things, and then putting them together in one post.

Here’s a start:

In third or fourth grade, one of the things we used to like to do was to take the blackboard erasers outside of the building, and “clean them up”. How did we do that? Well, my memory is that we beat them on the concrete sills of the lower windows of the school that we could reach. To be assigned to that task was a special favor, or so we thought. And, it got us outside.

The residue of what we “beat out” stayed on the concrete window sill, and I suppose, was eventually washed off by the rain. We didn’t know anything about that, we just got a special “trip” outside - during Spring and Fall, of course.

Speaking of third or fourth grade - I’m not sure which, I began to get in a discussion with other classmates about Santa Claus. I really DID believe in him sometime in school, but I THINK it was at about this time that some of the “older” kids began teasing us younger ones about how foolish it was to “believe in Santa Claus”. I remember arguing pretty vociferously about it, being sure that he was real. I can’t quite remember what convinced me that I was wrong, but the “older” kids had a good bit to do with it.

Grades.

I remember the first time I got a grade as low as a “D”. It was in the seventh grade, and the subject was “Geography”. I don’t remember what my problem was, but I got my first “D”. I suppose now you want to know what my parents said about that. But, conveniently enough, I don’t remember. Kinda like I genuinely don’t remember my punishment when I “talked back” to my Sixth Grade Teacher. Denial, I guess.

That wasn’t the only “low” grade I got in School.

In High School, we were required to take 4 years of Latin and French - two years of each. At least, in the College Prep program. I THINK only Latin was offered to 9th and 10th graders.

Anyway, the first year of Latin was not so bad. I don’t remember my grades exactly, but they weren’t failing. However, the Second Year was a “killer”. Out of a class of about 10, only 2 passed at the end of the year, and I was NOT one of them. Even those who passed didn’t get very high grades. For some reason, I remember the names of Jimmy Dorsey and Paul Webster as being the only ones who did pass. (This was 1940!)

I just now remember that I didn’t just get an “F”, but in those days, my failing grade was “Red E”. More horrific, I think, that an “F”. How could anyone MISS it? A “RED E!!!!?” Failure.

What to do? We had to have the course credits.

Summer School!

In Mechanicsburg, there was an elderly, somewhat sickly lady, who had taught Latin there maybe 10 years before. Her name was Mrs. Jess Wilson. She and her husband Guy, lived clear down at the end of West Race Street, almost out of town.

One of the parents of these students who failed, got the idea of hiring Mrs. Wilson to “Tutor” us, and see if we couldn’t at least pass Latin - and become full-fledged Juniors.

So, these errant pupils spent, I think, six weeks - 5 days a week - with Mrs. Wilson, to try to learn Latin. At least a LITTLE bit of it. Of course, I was one of them.

By the time even 4 weeks passed by, we were all so enthralled with Latin, that some of us thought we might end up teaching it later. (I had no plans to teach Latin). She made that “dead” language, LIVE.

Can you guess how that Summer School Session ended? We ALL got A!

Now, French. That was a different matter. I’m not ready to say that I got all A’s, but to me, it was VERY interesting, and to this day, I try to pick up some French words whenever I can.

I remember the teacher started the class each day, by saying, “Bon Jour, mes eleves! Comment-allez-vous?” We’d answer, “Bon Jour, Mademoiselle. Tres bien, merci. Et vous?” She would answer, of course, “Tres bien, merci.” It sounds beautiful to me, just saying it aloud. Even reading it gives me a rush.
(I almost "swooned" when I heard Charles Boyer each week end his TV program with the farewell, "Bon Soir". And, before French class, I thought he was saying "Moh swahre".)

I passed it, at least. And, in recent years (a couple of times), I’ve gone to the Library to check out a French Lesson course. Over time, I start it, then keep putting it off, and haven’t improved much. I can still pick out some words - not as much when hearing it, because it goes pretty fast. I dearly wish I had continued studying, and, wonder-of-wonders, maybe have been able to go to Paris (pronounced Paree).

Alas!

I got my first lesson in electricity in Science class in about the ninth grade, I think. Mr. Roger Counts, the Science Teacher, hooked all of us up to a continuous circle, holding hands, with the two end pupils holding the two electrodes, and then he “cranked up” the hand driven generator. Wow! What a charge.

In that class, also, we did some quite unpleasant things with frogs, guinea pigs and mice that I won’t describe. Just Science! Right!

Oh……I haven’t thought of this for over 60 years:

We had a high school orchestra, and I learned to play the snare and bass drums. Saying, “I learned”, might be a bit disingenuous. I tried to learn, at least. I had no problem with the rhythm and the beat, nor understanding the music, but, for the life of me, I couldn’t do a decent “drum roll” to save me. I still got by, however, since High School Orchestras in those days weren’t expected to be “professional”. And, in the music WE played, there weren't many "drum rolls". Miss Connie Ogden led the orchestra, as well as a High School Drum and Bugle Corps, consisting of ALL girls. They were good. Jean was a drummer in that band.

(If I can “dig up” one more decent school story, I think I have a posting!)

I played a little baseball in High School. I was not a very good hitter, and my fielding left something to be desired. I now ask myself: “Why did I try?”

I didn’t want it to “beat” me.

About 3 years ahead of me was a tall, lanky guy with long arms, named Bob Runyan. When he wrapped his large hand around the baseball, and flung it toward home plate, it “whizzed”.

Another pitcher, I think a year behind me, was John Coffey. He was left handed, and couldn’t throw as hard as Bob, but he had a lot of “stuff” on the ball, and he won a lot of games. It seems to me that John played some kind of “semipro” ball (American Legion?), and was very successful. My memory of his batting is that he was worse than even me. He just waved at the ball. Could pitch, though!

I spent 12 consecutive years in Mechanicsburg Schools (could have been 13, if we hadn’t had Latin Summer School), and I enjoyed every bit of it. I don’t remember just panting and panting until school was out. Sometimes it was hard, but was enjoyable.

A fun class was typing. I had that for 2 years, and the teacher was Miss Edna Schumm (It wasn’t shumm, nor shoom, but shoum (like should). She spent much of her time vocalizing the different letters on the keyboard. She would go: “AQA space; AZA space; SWS space; SXS space”; on down to “LOL space; L period L space; Sem P sem space; Sem diagonal sem space;”, etc. We would type as she vocalized.

Remarkably, I learned how to type. I do have to admit that since I haven’t kept up on the numbers and symbols on the top row of the keyboard, I have to sometimes look at them. The letters, though, are automatic - assuming I don’t try to type so fast that I hit the wrong keys.

That’s enough of school, I think. Unless, of course, I think of some other stories before this is posted in a little over a week. Wonder of wonders, thinking back to January or February when I got up at 1:00AM, just to ramble-type until I thought of something, if this one IS finished, I will now have 4 “in the tank”, (Word Processor). And, I just posted one this morning!

PTL!

“And let us not be not weary in well doing: for in due season, we shall reap, if we faint not.” Gal. 6:9

Comforting!

Music Ministry

Today, I was driving home from the Birthday Party of one of the WEEC Auxiliary members, and the thought of a Music Ministry came to mind.

I guess you could say that I grew up in a musical family. My dad was a “bass” singer; Mother, an “alto”; Miriam, a “soprano”; and I, mostly a “tenor”.

As a teenager, I sang in the choir of our local church - along with the rest of my family. Though my voice has ALWAYS been in the “tenor” range, for some reason, I sang bass in the choir at times. I think it must have depended on how many “basses” or “tenors” were available that week.

As a result, I learned to read music. At least when to go “up” or “down”. I never developed what some call “perfect pitch”. Though, I don’t think one can “develop” a “perfect pitch”. I believe it’s God-given. This feeling was further substantiated by learning of when Gil Meade, an organist and choral director at Moody Bible Institute, found “perfect pitch”. I learned that when he was a child (under 10 years of age), he could distinguish one tone from another, by naming the spot on the musical scale that the sound made. An automobile horn, for example. Or a train whistle. Or any other musical sound. When he heard it, he would exclaim, “B flat”, or “A”, or whatever note the tone sounded.

I think I developed what people call “relative pitch”. That is, hearing what one note on the scale sounded like, I could “sing” the note a “third”, or “fifth” above or below that, and, find and sing the other notes also. That only comes from experience, if one doesn’t have “perfect pitch”.

Though I regularly sang in church, that wasn’t the ONLY type of music I liked. I was into “popular music” also, and in much later years, “classical” music. I liked the “Big Band” sound of Glenn Miller, Kay Kyser, Benny Goodman et al. What just now comes to mind (I do this all the time) after listing these, was that overseas during World War II, we had the privilege of having been visited by the band of Kay Kyser. He regularly had a “quiz” on his show, that he called “Kay Kyser’s Kollege of Musical Knowledge”. And, though Glenn Miller had been killed in a plane crash in Europe while entertaining the troops, we had also a later visit from “The Glenn Miller Orchestra”, led by Tex Beneke.

Back to earlier years.

At about age 15 or 16 I think, some of my friends and I were attending the Champaign County Fair one time, when someone noticed that there was a booth that featured a disk recording device, that when sung into, made a flat plastic recording. Somewhat like the 78 RPM records of that day, only much smaller, and certainly not professional. It was also a 78.

One of my friends, knowing of my singing, suggested I step up and make a recording. I finally acquiesced, and ended up singing one of the popular songs of the day, “Oh Johnny!” (Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, how you can love. Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, heavens above. You make the whole world…………. etc.) I can almost remember the whole song, unfortunately.

Then, I remember, a year or so later, I began singing solos at church. One piece I remember was the classic “O Rest in the Lord, wait patiently for Him, and He shall give thee thy heart’s desire, O Rest……etc.” I think I can sing (to myself) all the way through the song. The amazing thing is that the last time I sang, or even saw, that song, or the Scripture that it’s based on, was maybe 70 years ago. The memory is an amazing thing. Or, as I think I have said before, “My memory is perfect. Recall is my problem.”

Remembering those words reminds me of another song from years ago (at least when I first sang it), the song, “Little man you’re crying, I know why you’re blue, some one took you kiddie car…………..” I can sing that one all the way through also. To myself, of course. I now remember that Jean and I sang that one to some of our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

And, even YEARS later, I still remember the words to one or two verses of maybe 30 Gospel Songs of bygone eras.

When I joined the Radio Ministry of the Moody Bible Institute in 1954, and after I was promoted and had a steady daytime schedule, I attended Evening School there, and, along with some Bible classes and Christian Education courses, I took Music, including song leading, and choral conducting. That was the most formal music training I ever had.

At our church in Chicago at that time, we had a Choir Director who was outstanding. His name was Mel Kasen - since deceased I’ve learned. He developed such a following at church, that one year at Christmas, we had 50 to 60 voices (my son Jim helps me to remember) when we performed several parts of Handel’s Messiah. I NOW remember (I hadn’t thought of it until just now), that I sang the Tenor recitative “Comfort Ye My People”, and the solo, “Every Valley Shall Be Exalted”.

During that same period, I served as Assistant Sunday School Superintendent, and then Superintendent after one year, and after some Christian Education training at Evening School at Moody, I began organizing the Sunday School, and reaching out to the community.

In addition to Evening School, I got involved in the National Sunday School Association, headquartered in Chicago, and attended several Sunday School Conventions that they sponsored. I learned how to successfully “run” a Sunday Bible School. One of the crowning achievements of our Sunday School Staff, was a record attendance of 426 one Sunday, during a contest. This beat the previous record of 425.

When I retired as Superintendent, Mel Kasen asked me if I would accept the position of Assistant Choir Director, and kinda supervise the overall program - including section rehearsals, etc.

The time finally came when Mel retired as Director. I THINK he moved to Wisconsin, but I’m not sure.

I then got the Choir Director’s job by default. (Job is the operative word here, since the position paid a modest salary.)

Beginning in the fall of that year, we began rehearsal on a monumental Christmas program, consisting of maybe twenty different songs or pieces. We even had a printed program, listing all the music, as well as the groups who performed. We even had some “antiphony” groups in the back balcony.

Another “crowning achievement”!

Then, God called us to leave Chicago, and join Christian Radio Station WEEC in Springfield OH, as General Manager. Previous postings tell of this experience.

Shortly after our arrival in Springfield our church needed a Sunday School Superintendent, and I was elected. It seems to me that at about the same time, I became the Choir Director also.

We all had a wonderful experience in these ministries, culminated in my thinking, by a magnificent (in my opinion) rendition of “The Seven Last Words of Christ”. I can STILL see the choir, and FEEL their sad, but glorious singing of that Cantata. In the part where the crowd is depicted as saying about Jesus: “Take Him! Take Him! Let us crucify Him!”, I could FEEL the choir entering into the telling of this terrible experience of the Lord Jesus.

Very gratifying!

Music and Christian Education had been my church work for 10 or 15 years, in at least two churches. I have fond memories of both experiences.

Praise the Lord!

My music interest wouldn’t be completely told without mentioning my antipathy toward “out of tune” pianos. That is, a piano being “out of tune” with itself. And, over 11 years of hearing the pianos in Studios A and B at WMBI, I developed an “ear” for pianos that are out of tune with themselves.

Let me explain: The upper register of keys on a grand piano have 3 strings for each note. Toward the middle, there are 2 strings per note. (These are called “Unisons”.) Then, in the Bass section, just one string. In tuning a piano, the tuner must “tune” all three strings exactly alike, or it will sound “tinny”. (Like the proverbial “bar room piano” we hear described on TV.) And, the two string notes tuned exactly alike, as well.

Aside: To get the “bar room piano” sound purposely for a TV story, one or more of the 3 strings is just SLIGHTLY “de-tuned”, as might happen over a long period of time without tuning. It now sounds “tinny”.

Pianos don’t stay in tune - perfectly that is - for too long. Humidity, temperature or other outside factors affect that. And, heavy playing would gradually stretch one of the strings in the set of 3, and then sound “out of tune”, at least to me.

At WMBI, and I assume for all of the pianos at Moody Bible Institute, our pianos were completely tuned once a month. Virgil Smith, a Music Department instructor got training and experience in piano tuning. In addition, every Saturday morning, he came to the Studios, and “trimmed” the “unisons” and “octaves” of both of the 9 foot Grand Pianos. That is, one or more of the 3, or the 2 strings could slip some and be “flat”, or “out of tune” with another string, or a note an octave higher or lower. Virgil could correct that, and he did so every week.

Even professional recordings that are sold and aired on radio stations have “out of tune” pianos. I’ve heard them. That is, the piano is “out of tune”, with itself.

Finally, my music interest is shown by the latest recordings on my iPod that I carry with me all the time. Earlier I described the iPod. Three days ago, I downloaded some CDs to it, and now have 785 songs of all kinds (including Gospel Songs and Hymns, of course), plus reading chapters of the Bible - 21 from The Gospel of John; 28 from The Acts; 16 from Romans; 6 from Ephesians, and 10 Psalms.

My practice is to listen to the iPod in bed before I go to sleep every night. I think I’ve missed three nights in the last 3 months.

Whew! This is the longest posting I’ve made on this blog. I just hope it fits in the space provided.