My Birthday Weekend

My birthday always falls around Memorial Day. This year it fell on Memorial Day. Uncle Ronnie plays in a golf tournament for Marion Motley's scholarship fund every Memorial Day weekend and has invited Brent and I to play before. This year our schedules allowed us to make the trip up.

So, in spite of my reluctance to travel (especially on holiday weekends), we headed for the two hour trip to Columbus on Sunday. We got to Brent's house in the late afternoon and the kids enjoyed a day of playing Wii and we even kicked them out of the house in to the great big "outside" for a while. The other day when I tried to force Kayla and Shayna to go outside, you would have thought I had asked them to spend a year in a gulag. They absolutely refused to go and asked me why we keep insisting they go play outside where there is "nothing to do".

After arriving in Columbus, I asked Brent for a few details about the tournament. Since the invitation from Uncle Ronnie had come through Brent, I thought perhaps they had done something like, well you know, talked about it. Bad assumption on my part. It wasn't until Aaron left a voicemail on Saturday that I found out our tee time was AM instead of PM. That was actually a relief for me because I planned to drive up from Columbus to Cleveland on Monday morning and all the way back to Cincy on Monday night. It's hard to be out of the office especially after a three day weekend and I did not want to spend this morning (the Tuesday after the holiday) driving back. Anyway, Brent knew nothing (and I mean nothing) about the tournament. Brent is a "need to know" kind of guy. He needed to know the day, the time and the location and that's all he knew. I spent about half a hour trying to find some info on Google. But to no avail. I wanted to know things like -what type of course is it? Are there prizes? Is there breakfast/lunch? Sponsors? You know. Just general information. Something to kind of set the expectations for the day. After all, in addition to the Marion Motley Memorial Scholarship Fund Tournament, in a sense, this was the Brian Smith Birthday Tournament.

Driving up to Cleveland turned out to be quite a challenge for my goal of radical acceptance and of living in the moment. The weather sucked. I got up around 5am for a 6am departure. The trip up was Googled at 2 hours and 15 minutes and we had no idea what traffic would be like (and there's always the possibility of construction). I hate being late and with 9am SHOTGUN start, you can't be late. If you're late, you don't play. So, we hoped to get to the course around 8-8:30. The closer we got to Cleveland, the more dense the clouds. Then, about 5 minutes from the course we saw our first flashes of lightning. Then, as we pulled into the parking lot, it began to pour. I had brought no rain gear because the forecast was for mid-80s and all my raingear (the one jacket) is warm weather. Plus, Uncle Ronnie doesn't play in the rain and if he hears thunder, he is the first one back in the clubhouse. I just knew there would be no golf today. But, we had to stick around to say hi to Uncle Ronnie. OK. So, it's a holiday weekend and I'm driving hours and hours through holiday traffic to play golf in the cold and rain. These are all things I do not do and on my birthday no less.

Brent and I grabbed some breakfast (I had grits which everyone else frowned at). As 9 o'clock approached and no one had checked us in and we hadn't even gotten our clubs from the car or put our shoes on, I asked Uncle Ronnie "Shouldn't we do something?" He said "Like what?" "Like putting on our shoes. Getting our clubs." To make a long story a little shorter, now I know why the lack of concern about the 9 o'clock hour approaching. We didn't tee off until after 10!

Uncle Ronnie was in his element. He was like Norm in Cheers. The tournament was full of long-time golf buddies, ex-Cleveland Browns and people who are both. Uncle Ronnie knew every guy in the place and he took the time to introduce us to each and every one of them as we passed them. D'art (my cousin and his son) joined us for the day. Uncle Ronnie took up golf in his 30s. He is a self-taught, golf nut. He plays several times a week, always has his clubs in his car and has played all over the country as he drives to various family functions and to appointments for work. He coulda/shoulda gone pro on the senior tour. But, he only tried to qualify once and missed the cut because it started to rain and he picked up his ball before the horn blew. He cared more about getting his son back to safety than making the cut. Anyway, it's a joy to watch him play golf because he has a really interesting, very compact, very functional swing. He's about 6'2" and very lean. He could have been a power hitter. But, he's a student of the game. While all of his buddies were trying to pound the ball and spraying it all over the place, he learned to take a very short, controlled swing and put the ball exactly where he wants it to be. His view of golf is it's not about making great shots, it's about making the least amount of mistakes. And, because of that, he beats nearly everybody he plays. The young guys and the big hitters get frustrated because his swing is so efficient he can nearly drive out there with them. He hits the ball perfectly every time. His short game is amazing. So, while he's probably not going to hit the green in two on many par fives, he rarely makes a bogey and he makes enough birdies to beat just about everybody.

Another really cool thing about yesterday is D'art (amazingly) was on the golf course playing with Uncle Ronnie for the first time ever. How you grow up in a household with a semi-pro golfer (Uncle Ronnie doesn't pay for golf or for equipment- he wins his green fees back and more and he wins equipment in tournaments) and not ever go out with him astounds me. But, D'art had a great time. It was funny as he compared real golf to Wii golf or PlayStation golf. He thought it would be just like that. Watching D'arts highs (as he managed to pull off a 200 yard drive) and his lows (as he missed the ball three times in a row) was interesting. He finally got how difficult golf is and how it's not as easy as it looks on TV. Each and every put is a different speed and breaks a different way (especially at Highland Golf Club). Highland is not a modern or fancy club by any means. It's a municipal course in Cleveland. The amenities are kind of run down. And it looks easy. That is until you realize how tiny the greens are and how every single putt we had outside of 5' yesterday was a speed putt. We didn't have single birdie putt all day that you could put in the front of the hole. Everything had to be dropped in from the side. It was cool to see D'art get an appreciation for the game and an appreciation for just how good Uncle Ronnie is.

Uncle Ronnie is very special to me. Ty called him the glue that holds the family together. I don't agree with that assessment. But, he's only about 18 years older than I am. So, I remember him when he was young and single. Since grandbaby (his mother) lived with us, he came to visit a lot (and he was single and there was always a good meal to be had). He was there for a lot of holidays and never missed one of our graduations and other life events. Uncle Ronnie has done the same with all his nieces and nephews. He doesn't fly. So, he drives everywhere. Want to go to Florida? Call Uncle Ronnie, he'll give you a ride down, play golf while you do your thing, then drive you back. He's a talker, a story teller and he used to be a great tall tale teller (he's backed off of the tall tales as he now has real life experiences to share). My mother had six brothers. Uncle Michael (murdered several years ago) was really close to me. But, Uncle Ronnie is the Uncle I physically resemble most. As I get older, I can him in me more and more. I just wish I could play golf half as well as he does.

We finished up the tournament at 4 under. Not great. I played like I had never seen a golf club before (just barely better than D'art). But, I hadn't touched a club since September other than a trip to Pebble Creek the week before last and a quick trip to the driving range on Friday. We even had a bogey, which is absurd in that format.

We got back last night and I was so exhausted I couldn't sleep. Up at 5am, playing 18 holes of golf, then another 5 hours on the road coming back was a lot on this 47 year old body. But, it was a great day spent with family. It was fun watching Uncle Ronnie in his element where he is a master. It was cool watching him bond with D'art. Even though I was embarrassed by the way I played (Uncle Ronnie taught me golf over 20 years ago and I'm not much better now than I was then), it was a great birthday- one of the best ever.

Pic of Ty and Kayla

I just like this shot. Got a few more at the game that are pretty good, too.

Xmas 2007

Christmas was fun. The girls were ecstatic with their haul, as usual. They got iPod nanos (last generation) as a surprise. They were not expecting them. (Those are the best kinds of gifts). I lucked into finding a Wii almost two months before Christmas. I happened to be at Costco at opening one day and there was a pile of Wiis. I hadn't even given a Wii more than a few passing moment's thought before then but when I saw people grabbing at a pile of stuff, I grabbed one too, then figured out later what I had (isn't mimetic rivalry a weird thing?). I called Ty and we decided to keep the Wii. But, she made me wait until Christmas to present it to the family. It was a hit, even though the girls had no clue they were going to get one. They hadn't even asked because, for some reason, they had figured they would not get one. I'm not sure why because there's much they have asked for that they haven't gotten.

I bought a Troll bracelet for Ty. This was another sweet gift because she had asked for it so late and I had convinced her that there was no way I was buying into that racket. But, after visiting a shop with Jon and spending a couple of hours looking at the things, I became convinced they actually are very nice (even if priced at about 2X what they are worth). You can buy charms for those special occasions in life. We started her off with six beads including "Ty", her birthstone, a Xian fish symbol and a couple of glass beads.

Ty got me a nice speaker system for the iPod (so I could have music in the basement). The remote was broken however, so we returned it and I went to Costco and picked up another system. I also got the Eagles' new album which is fantastic!

Watching TV with Shayna

A rare picture of me.

Thanksgiving/Kayla's Birthday

Kayla's birthday fell on Thanksgiving this year. One of her birthday wishes was to spent the day with her cousins in Columbus. We headed up in the morning and came back Thanksgiving evening. The only reason we still live in Ohio is so we can be near family (is there any other reason to live here?).

The trip was nice. Traffic was light. We took Zoe up for the first time ever. It might have been the first time she was ever in anyone else's house. She was great. She loved all the attention and the scraps. She was so distracted by all the people and the food that she didn't eat her own food. But, she didn't jump on anybody or try to take food off the counters (and she could). Mom was so proud of herself that she allowed a dog to be in her house and didn't freak out.

Shayna insisted that Kayla wasn't 11 until noon. So, during the morning or when we first arrived, she would correct anyone saying that Kayla was 11. I pointed out to her that she would not be so happy with that rule on her birthday since she was born at 10:45PM and most likely she would be in bed before she actually turned 8. Kayla told her her little rule was going to "bite her in the butt".

Ty made pecan orange french toast casserole for Kayla's special breakfast. Kayla wasn't too thrilled with the way it sounded. But, it turned out great. So good, that Kayla wants it again for her birthday party next weekend.

Yesterday, we smoked a turkey and we'll be making a Thanksgiving feast (including cranberry salad for Kayla) today. Shell and the boys are coming in today to spend the night.

Here are pix of the day: .Mac Gallery of Thanksgiving

OK. Time to make the cranberry salad!

Thanksgiving and Kayla's Birthday

Kayla's Birthday is always right around Christmas and the Ohio State/Michigan football game. As everybody knows, I threatened to miss her birth if she had waited until her due date, which was 11/23, the day of the Big Game in 1996. Fortunately, for all involved, she was born a day early.

This year we celebrated with an orange pecan roll that Ty made for breakfast then headed up to Columbus to spend the day with the family.

It was a historic trip for Zoe. She came along with us and did great. It was her first time out of West Chester.

Busy!

I haven't been posting because I've been extremely busy since getting back from Disney. It's not all work though. I put together a movie of the trip and even got it burned to DVD to send to the technologically challenged in-laws.

If you'd like to see the movie, it's at the new website I just launched:

http://www.brianandtywana.com

Our Florence Nightingale

We were at Epcot wrappping up our last day at Disney. The plan was to hit the few things we had missed during our 1/2 day there on Thursday and to revisit a few highlights (like Space Mission and Test Track). As we were just walking in, I asked the girls and Ty to pose in front of the dome at Epcot. As I was taking their picture, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find a little Disney employee asking if I wanted her to take the picture with me in it. This was one of the very nice things about Disney. Not only the employees volunteered to take pictures with our digital camera, other guests would volunteer as well. So, for this vacation, you’ll actually see some shots with me in them (Ty also took a few). Back to my story, Florence the Disney Employee, after taking the picture asked where we were headed. We said to The Land to check out Soarin’. We had missed Soarin’ (and The Land) on our first pass through and wanted to catch it before dinner. She asked if we had checked out the wait. I was a little taken aback because the park was pretty empty and we hadn’t waited any time for anything on Thursday. She took us a few steps over to the board where the wait times were posted. 45 minutes for Soarin’. We hadn’t waited 45 minutes for anything in the 4 days we had already spent at the parks. She said “Do you want me to take you to the ride with no wait?” My thinking was that she was going to steer us to another attraction that we could get on my more quickly. But, she then said that she was with the Year of Million Dreams team and that she was adopting our family to make our dream of getting on Soarin’ come true.

As Florence led us to the ride, she told us about how long she had worked for Disney and that she was actually a college math teacher who took this as her “fun job”. She alternated between handing out gifts, handing out Dream Passes (a group of six Fast Passes for the most popular attractions, randomly handed out during the day (we had gotten some on Star Wars the day before at MGM)) and handing out this special treat. She led us to The Land, gave us a walking tour on the way there, telling us the story of the handmade inlaid art work done by a guy and his daughter with over 155,000 pieces each (the two walls were identical except for one green stone, he added to commemorate his daughter’s birthday). Florence had been searching for years to find that one stone. As we walked up to Soarin’, I felt like a VIP. Florence walked up to the guy accepting Fast Passes and told him she needed five. He handed her five and we walked through, right past a 45 minute line and up to what Bob Euchre would call (and a line I had been repeating all week “The Front Row!”. Florence asked the girls what each of their favorite Disney characters were and asked if they had gotten into pin trading. They had not.

Kayla was a little nervous about the ride as she is afraid of heights. The ride is a simulated hang gliding experience where you are in a row with about 8 people and are raised up in the air and thrust into a screen that surrounds you on all sides, above and underneath. You really get the true sensation of flying as when you look anywhere in about 180 degrees peripherally and 360 vertically, you see hang gliding scenes taken from the California sky. When you fly over the orange groves, you smell oranges, when you fly over the trees, you smell the forest, etc. It was truly an amazing experience. I comforted Kayla by having her try to get out of the seat before we took off (so she could see it was impossible to fall). While we were flying, she because a little overwhelmed, so I had her look to her left to see the people beside us to get a little perspective and close her eyes when it became overwhelming. She did great. I was so proud of her!

After the ride, Florence gave each of the girls a pin. Donald Duck for Shayna and Minnie Mouse for Kayla. Then, we thanked her and she was off to do her next good deed. As she left I thought of a few things. Was this a life changing experience (aren’t they all)? If I had not stopped the girls and Ty (who were several feet ahead of me) and directed them back to take the picture in that spot, we would not have met Florence. Had we not met Florence, we would not have gotten the opportunity to walk right up onto one of the two most popular attractions at Epcot (unbeknownst to us at the time though). I We would have headed home never having experienced what was an amazing experience for all of us. As a Black man, in a White world, there’s always that little feeling in the back of your mind of how White people really perceive of you. When a 60 year old White lady who can adopt any family she chooses, chooses our family, and not only takes us to the ride, does it with us, talks to us before and afterwards and shows genuine caring and concern for us, it reinforces my faith in people. It was one of those little magical moments at Disney that I’ll always remember.

On The Way to Disney

Today, we rose bright and early and left for our five day trip to visit The Mouse In Orlando. Shayna and Kayla were both out of bed with no problems. Shayna was a bundle of nerves and energy. I waited until the last possible moment to pack (as always and ran out of time). We hustled out of the door at 6AM (in spite of getting up 20 minutes earlier than planned) and had to make an unscheduled stop to pick up a smaller container of contact lens solution. So, we rolled into the parking lot at the Dayton airport at nearly 7AM with our flight scheduled to depart at 8AM. Fortunately, the Dayton airport is a morgue at 7 o'clock on a Thursday morning and we breezed through security.

I learned first hand what a great job airport security is doing of keeping us all safe. They confiscated my toothpaste, less than half an ounce of face cleanser (in a one ounce bottle) and my shave gel (in less than a 2 ounce tube). I was told if I had a ziplock plastic bag with me (because doesn't everyone carry one of those?), I could take my stuff. Otherwise, I had to place it in my checked bag (at this point making its way past the maze of conveyor belts behind the airport) or relinquish it. Good-bye toothpaste, hello Orlando.

We had a direct flight that went without a hitch. We were in Orlando airport at just after 10AM, boarded Disney's Magical Express and were at our hotel (French Quarter at Port Orleans before noon. Amazing. Unfortunately, the room wasn't ready. So, we had to hang out for a while. We had lunch in the hotel and walked around while they prepared our room. Our bags had been magically transported from the airport to our room (we didn't even have to claim them in Orland0). We had our park passes in our hands. So, by 3:15, we we were headed out for Epcot.

The girls were so excited. They were almost giddy as we headed for Epcot, which was a short bus ride (less than 15 minutes). The park was almost empty. We were able to visit Mission Space, The Seas with Nemo, Journey Into Imagination and Test Track less than three hours. The girls absolutely loved Test Track and Mission Space (we did the beginner's trainig- Green Level). They wanted to immediately go back and do the advanced training. We had dinner at the Rose Crown Pub & Dining Room. Ty thought I would enjoy fish and chips. She's right. I would have. But, the fish was the worst cod I have ever had. I think it was underdone. It was actually kind of tough rather than flaky. But, we had more than enough food as Ty got a lambshank that had to be every bit of 12 ounces of meat. Kayla decided she wanted a children's meal (pizza) even though she was on the adult meal plan. With the appetizers and desserts we each got as part of our meal plan (Ty and I), there was more than enough food. We did get out of there just in time for the fireworks and laser closing. It was amazing and with the VIP seats we had been comped, we had the best seats in the house. The girls were exhausted. We closed down the park, got back to the room before 10pm. But, they were so excited, they each got a second wind and we stayed up late talking about the day.

View the photo set here:

Dad Has Prostate Surgery

Dad had surgery to remove prostate cancer Friday, September 7. I am writing this post on Monday morning.

I woke up Friday morning and decided to meditate (a habit I had fallen out of). I'm not really sure why I decided to meditate on that particular day. While I was meditating, a verse came to me. "Perfect love casts out fear." Since overcoming the panic attacks (actually during the process which I am still in), this has become one of my favorite verses. But, I was wondering why this verse had come to me at this time. I wasn't feeling fearful about Dad's surgery or his cancer at all. They caught his cancer early (PSA screening) and he had done his homework on his options and had chosen the best laparascopic prostate surgery guy in the country to do his procedure. But, one thing about Dad that amazes me is during his by-pass surgery and during this time he has never shown one bit of fear. He completely trusts in G-d. During his by-pass surgery, I thought it was a front he was putting up for the rest of us. But, thinking about it during the six years since then, I no longer think that. I think the verse came to me because Dad has that love for G-d that does cast out fear. How it's possible with his image of G-d, I don't understand (I really don't understand). But, the evidence is there in his actions.

The surgery went great. Unfortunately, I got to Columbus too late to see him before he went in. Even though his surgery was scheduled for noon, they took him back into pre-op before 10:30am. Since it's a teaching hospital, the set-up takes longer as they have to explain things to the interns while they are doing them. The "live" update board turned out to be not so live as it told us he was still in pre-op at 11:45. But, then, an hour and a half later, it said he had gone into the OR at 11:15. It was after 3:30 before they got him to a room. Ty and I had to leave to get back to do shipping for Friday. So, it turns out I didn't see him at all. As I thought, the family reported, he was pretty much out of it Friday evening anyway. I don't think he would have remembered seeing me.

The surgery went completely as expected. The doctor was out of there in an hour (it used to take him 5-6 hours to do the procedure). There was minimal bleeding. Dad is very comfortable now. I spoke with the family Friday night and I called Mom on Saturday to get a report. Dad was sitting right there and she was relaying messages from me to him and vice-versa. But, I didn't speak with him. Yesterday, Mom called and she did put Dad on the phone. He said he is having no pain (or even any discomfort). He's got a pump installed for pain medication and a catheter. He removes the tube for the pain medication himself on Tuesday (has a prescription for pills if the needs them then). And, he sees the doctor on Wednesday to have the catheter removed. His only "fear" (and it's really more of a slight concern) is making sure he doesn't overdo things because he's not feeling any pain. He doesn't want to be sore when the pump is removed.

For a long time, I wished Dad and I were more like "buddies". But, I've accepted that will never happen. He is who he is and while I'm changing, I can't change enough for both of us. When I expressed dissatisfaction about our relationship, it was like I was speaking a foreign tongue. It only created discomfort for him. Discomfort which apparently is not there now. So, it is what it is. I'm grateful the surgery went well and he is doing great.

Monticello Trip- Correction from Debbie Truscott

I made a couple of mistakes in my piece on What I Did On Summer Vacation. I'd like to print what Debbie Truscott wrote to me. She meant it as a comment. But, it deserves its own post.

Dear Brian--I read your blog with great interest and posted a reply but I'm not sure it "took." So I thought I'd send you what I wrote:

* * *

I greatly enjoyed your insightful and fascinating blog--so beautifully written, moving and honest--but I was struck by one statement. You wrote:

"I might get this wrong because I haven't followed this whole thing. But, I think that was pretty significant because I think the Carr family was kind of a roadblock to the black side of the family (the Hemings) being accepted as descendants of Thomas Jefferson."

Actually, the exact opposite is true. The Carrs themselves have a family association that includes members of both African and European descent. The "Virginia Carrs" have long recognized that the "Ohio Carrs" are descended from Samuel Carr and Judith Barnett, and both sides have embraced their blended ancestry. In fact, the mutual black-white acceptance of the Carr family has stood in stark contrast to the Monticello Association's refusal to acknowledge their Hemings cousins. Additionally, the M.A., which was formed about 80 years ago to maintain the Jefferson graveyard, has refused to grant the Carrs membership in the Association, even though the graveyard was created for Dabney Carr, Jefferson's best friend and brother-in-law, and the first person buried there. The Carrs have long been "inclusive" folks, and the (white) Jeffersons would do well to emulate them.

Thanks for the correction. As I said, I'm pretty new to this whole thing. I apologize for the mistake and any offense it may have caused.

Oh...one more thing...it was Janet Carr and Linda Carr-Kraft, both (white) Virgina Carrs, who began the "We Are Family" song...which has become the theme song for gatherings of the "greater" Carr/Jefferson/Hemings families. It never fails to move me, also. Linda says we need to write more verses! Care to contribute?

Another bad assumption on my part.

You are a fine writer, Brian. I look forward to reading more of your pieces.

Best wishes always,

Debbie Truscott

Debbie, thanks for taking the time to read my piece and comment on it. And, thanks for the compliment. I also appreciate your setting the record straight. I guess if I ever become a newspaper reporter, I'll have to hire a fact checker. ;-)

Peace,
Brian

Ty's B-Day (Part I)

Tywana doesn't have a birthday, she has birthday weeks. Her birthday week kicked off with a trip to Red Robin for the free hamburger. Kayla was very upset we were going out the day before Ty's actual birthday.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation- Monticello

This blog entry is a combination of my blog and personal journal. So, it'll be long and maybe not very well organized. I want to capture some thoughts/emotions I'm feeling after a pretty enlightening weekend. Where to begin? I just returned from the Monticello Community Gathering in Charlottesville, VA at Monticello- the home of my great, great, great, great grandfather (hereafter referred to as great⁴ grandfather) - Thomas Jefferson. This was a gathering of the descendants of the Jefferson family, slaves, artisans, anyone connected to Monticello. This entry includes links to pictures of our trip. There are are about 240 pictures in all. The links only go to a few. To view the full collection go here: Monticello Community Gathering Picture Collection. The weekend was something I was not looking forward to for several reasons.

• Glorifying plantation life is similar to glorifying concentration camps. My ancestors were stolen from their homelands, forced into labor, killed and raped to support the plantation system. I really had no interest in listening to people talk about the "good old days" of Thomas Jefferson's Monticello.


• I hate being away from home. Nights in hotels- yuck. I'm practically agoraphobic (not many people know that). I only leave home when I have to.


• It was a 9 hour drive and I'm not much for long drives.


• It cost money and I'm cheap.


• I'm just not into genealogy or history for that matter.


• I'm not much for family reunions.  I'd rather have a party with people I know than meet more and more "cousins" I'll never speak to again.

I went for the girls and for Mom & Dad. Since finding out that our family includes Thomas Jefferson about a decade or so ago, I've been mildly (at best) interested. My first reaction was "Did he leave us any money?" Being a descendant of Thomas Jefferson didn't have any impact on my daily life. So, I really wasn't interested. That changed this weekend as the faceless names on the pieces of paper that people were telling me was my family tree took on flesh and blood and became real to me. This entry is not going to be a rant about how bad the experience was. It was surprisingly pleasant and informative.


Ty and I took the girls down a day early so that I could relax from the drive before the festivities began. We set out for Charlottesville on Thursday. We didn't get out as early as we would have liked because we had some backorders to get out and had to wait for product to arrive in the mail on Thursday. Finally, around 1 pm we got on the road, putting our ETA into Charlottesville after dark. We had an uneventful trip, in spite of some anxiety caused by Google maps' lack of detailed information and the mile markers on I-64 in Virginia changing twice causing us to not know if we had an hour left on our trip or nearly 4 hours, at one point. Note to the state of Virginia: A couple of signs along I-64 with the mileage to Charlottesville would be very nice. Kayla, overhearing all of our conversation began to worry (as Kayla does). Shayna wanted to know why we kept trying to figure things out and didn't just take the word of the Google map or the girl at the hotel's word for it. We pulled into the Sleep Inn around 10 o'clock, checked in and had a good nights' sleep. We shared a room and were a little concerned how much sleep we'd get with the girls there. But, both of them were out like a light when we finally crawled into bed around 1 am.



Friday, we had some spare time so we went to the Omni and checked in early. We then spent some time walking up and down the mall which is a group of shops, restaurants and street vendors that stretches in
front of the Omni. It is a very nice eclectic mix, very inexpensive and the people in Charlottesville were wonderfully friendly. Any meal that we didn't eat with the "gathering" we ate on the mall. Five Guys Hamburgers was great. There was a little noodle shop where we had some very unusual cold noodles (mine came with a spicy sauce and slices of apples). Shayna ate at Christian's Pizzeria which had everything from broccoli to ravioli to avocado toppings. Of course, she had cheese pizza. The rest of the family rolled in Friday (except Brent who had a couple of days from hell- having to drive to Cleveland to visit Sherri's dying father and comfort her mother before heading down to Charlottesville and hitting a deer about 11 o'clock that evening).




Friday evening we had a reception at the University of Virginia on the Pavilion behind the Rotunda. The significance of the location for the reception escaped me until I got there. I had forgotten that Thomas Jefferson (great⁴grandfather) was the founder of the university. The design of the rotunda and the living quarters of the students and teachers is amazing itself. The rotunda is the anchor point at the end with two wings down either side under covered walkway (you see this same architecture at Monticello). The teachers lived above the classrooms and the students in rooms between. That way, the students and teachers were living in close proximity to each other, creating a real sense of community. The reception was in one of the gardens, which was beautiful. We remembered to bring bug spray to Charlottesville for Kayla (high sensitive to mosquito bites). But, we dressed for an indoor reception worried more about air conditioning (and the girls getting cold) than bugs. Once I got two mosquito bites, we hustled Kayla out of there. Miraculously, she had none. She's always the first to be bitten. We had wonderful appetizers (my first experience with parsnips which were marinated, roasted and delicious).  Also of note was some very nice brie (which I normally don't like) and my first taste of goat cheese (pretty good). But, I hate to say it, Charlottesville, you're not much on the wine-making.



At the reception, the Carr family welcomed us. I might get this wrong because I haven't followed this whole thing. But, I think that was pretty significant because I think the Carr family was kind of a roadblock to the black side of the family (the Hemings) being accepted as descendants of Thomas Jefferson. Dabney Carr was Thomas Jefferson's boyhood friend and married Jefferson's sister. After the deaths of Dabney and Jefferson's sister Martha, Jefferson took the Carr children and raised them as his own. Frankly, a week ago I wouldn't have given a hoot about this one way or the other. But, meeting a guy named Dabney Carr and seeing all the descendants of that story brought it to life for me. The Carrs were very welcoming and played a major role in the gathering. Actually, they used the word gathering rather than reunion because this event was about more than just family, it was about the entire Monticello community. Monticello required more than just slaves to run, there were overseers, artisans, skilled laborers, etc. that Jefferson brought in as part of Monticello. And all the descendants of those people were welcome.



As I was snapping photos at the reception, I was overcome with a sense of belonging that I rarely feel.  I'm not into genealogy, I think for several reasons. Ostensibly, it's been because genealogy divides rather than unites. Genealogy, to me, says "I'm part of this clan and you're not.". I've always been more of a brotherhood of man kind of guy. I look at people as just human rather than part of one family or another or one race or another. I go back to the fact that we're all family through Adam (or spiritually through Jesus- if you want to go there). I don't give a damn who your father or great grandfather was, you're still my brother. But, subconsciously, I think another reason I'm not into that stuff has been jealousy. Maybe my reaction was a sour grapes kind of thing. While my friends could say "I'm Scottish", "I'm French", "My mother's family is from Germany and my father's from England", "My ancestors came over on the Mayflower", etc.; I could only say "I'm Black. My ancestors came over in the holds of ships, many of them dying along the way.". Slavery, over 400 years later still has an impact on the psyche of African Americans. We have been denied the sense of history, of roots, of belonging that is so common among white people. While they can go visit the castles of Europe and imagine what it was like for their ancestors to hold court there, we get to go to the Freedom Center or a plantation and imagine our ancestors being raped, beaten and just eking out an existence. Look back at history? You ask. No thanks. Let's just move forward, please- quickly.



But, something was different at the reception, as I looked around, I loved the fact that all these diverse people were acknowledging a common heritage. Since it was an expanded reunion, we were not all related by blood. But, in fact, many of us were related by blood. You could see the transition in our family from white to black and sometimes back again. My family reunions normally have a pretty wide range of shades at them anyway. But, this was pretty wild. At the reunion, it was apparent, that most "African Americans" are not that at all, we're mulattoes, mixed race people. But, we're forced to wear the simplistic label of "Black". The thing that is wrong with that it denies a big part of who most of us "African"-Americans are. Not only were our ancestors stolen from their lands and our genealogies lost to us that way, when our European ancestors mixed races with them, they denied the resulting children of half (or more) of their heritage. Sally Hemings, my great⁴ grandmother, was three-quarters white. Thomas Jefferson's wife was her half-sister. Sally Hemings was described by one of her contemporaries as "mighty near white" (unfortunately, no pictures of her are still around). My great³grandfather, Thomas Woodson was 7/8 white. Yet, for both, being mostly white wasn't enough. They were Black enough to be slaves. When Thomas Woodson moved to Ohio, many of his descendants "passed" and blended into the White community, leaving his later descendants in the dark about their true blood-lines until recently. At the reception, when I saw a group of people who not only accepted, but embraced this heritage, I felt a true sense of belonging. In this group, I was finally neither White nor Black, just a darker skinned cousin. We were all there to celebrate our common heritage and the racial divide was set aside. It simply was not an issue for these three days. That was a glimpse of the way things should be every day! For so long, I've wrestled with whether to simply allow people to classify me as "African American" or not. For the sake of simplicity, I usually do. But, I know my heritage is much richer (and checkered) than just that. When I go o just my "normal" family reunions, I can look around and see the results of the melting pot. But, we have to have things in neat little categories. People want to pin me down as an African-American male Christian. Who has the time to find out that 'm not only a son of slaves, but a son of kings (so to speak)? Not only Christian, but heavily influenced by Buddhism and other traditions? Not simply a Democrat or a Liberal, but someone who decides things one issue at a time?



People used to accuse me of being "afraid to be Black". I'm not afraid to be Black. 'm happy to be who I am. But, I am not what people assume me to be when they hear I am Black. And, I will not pretend to be what I am not to live up to (rather down to) someone else's expectations. I was not raised in the 'hood (ghetto). I do not speak Ebonics. And, all my ancestors were not slaves or Africans. I don't fit into the neat little boxes people want to put me in. It's cramped and dark in there. I want out.


Saturday morning, we had the keynote address and introductions. The Monticello families were listed on a PowerPoint slide and each family had a representative give a brief accounting of how they were related to Monticello. My favorite though was the matriarch of my branch (whom I hadn't met until Friday). Mary Casells Kearney is 85 years old and told a powerful story of wanting to belong and of her heritage being denied her. She was a child when her father sat her and her siblings down with a little brown leather journal. But, from the way she told the story, you could tell in her mind it was like it happened yesterday. Some powerful emotions must have be brought forth for that day to have made such an impression on her. From this book, her father recited her heritage to her- how she was descended not only from slaves but from one of the most influential men in American history (and in world history), Thomas Jefferson. Mary is a light skinned woman, as you can see in the picture. But, as a child, when she looked at the ictures in the book, she said with surprise "Those look like white people in that book." She had been told her whole life she was Black (I'm guessing the word was "colored"). She had no idea about how she got the light skin. It was a story of a proud heritage. Yet, at the end of his recitation, the other shoe fell. He told them to learn their heritage, but not to speak it to anyone. A lump came up in my throat and tears came to my eyes as Mary said she didn't care what historians or scientists said, she knew she was a member of the family. It was obvious Mary did care. She carried that book with pride and she loved the fact that finally, finally, the rest of the family was acknowledging her as a member. Mary received a standing ovation.



Prinny Anderson, who did a lot of the coordination of the event, did an excellent job of kicking things off and sharing her reflections on what was happening.  Prinny has been very active in the effort to bring both sides of the slave legacy together, participating in the Coming to the Table project. When she spoke, it was obvious that this discovery of the "other side" of her family had had an impact on her. When she introduced her "cousin Connye Moore-Richardson", old habits made me (and others)expect a white woman to stand up. But, Connye is a beautiful black lady from Los Angeles, CA. It was another reminder of how deeply race and its divisions has been put into us.



The Mayor of Charlottesville, David Brown, addressed us and welcomed us to Charlottesville. Obviously, Monticello and the University of Virginia are major parts of Charlottesville, both given to the city by our great⁴ grandfather. The mayor gave us a warm welcome. I have to admit, I swelled with pride (just a little). How many family reunions have a mayor address them and talk about the contribution of their family (actually the Monticello community) to their city?


The keynote speaker was Associate Professor of History at University of Alabama, Dr. Josh Rothman. His speech was long (too long for some- especially the children). But, I thought it was fascinating. He could not have delivered the information he had to deliver in any less time. I appreciated his thoroughness and was glad he took his time. I was expecting a dry recitation about life on the plantation (which was wonderful if you were White but sucked if you were Black). But, that's not what he delivered. He talked about the complexities of the White-Black relationship, the codependencies and the fact that it truly was an integrated society (even if both sides were uncomfortable with it). He acknowledged (much to my happiness) the fact that Monticello could not have existed without the forced labor of many men, women and children. He did not whitewash (pun intended) the often swept-under-the-rug part of that life. He talked about the complex relationship between slave owner and master. The masters often talked about benevolence to slaves. Yet, most did not hesitate to use the whip or to break up families or rape women. They wrote lofty words about how all men are created equal, yet they traded men like cattle and treated them worse than they would their dogs. They said Blacks were sub-human, yet reproduced with them. They said Blacks were unskilled and untrainable. Yet, while Monticello started off as a very cosmopolitan place with craftsmen from all over the world imported to make the things Jefferson sought, those craftsmen transferred their skills to these "subhuman, untrainable" Blacks who provided free, skilled labor to produce Jefferson's necessities. Masters would often give slaves the opportunity to earn money to buy things for themselves (sometimes selling these goods back to the masters- Jefferson did this). Occasionally, a slave could even purchase his own freedom. But, were these things done out of paternalistic concern, humanitarianism or because it was good property management? Who knows?



One major point the professor made that I hadn't really thought about before was that the plantation life was an integrated community, not segregated. And, it was a community. Blacks and Whites worked shoulder to shoulder and were intimately (in all meanings of the word) involved with each other. It was after slavery that we tried segregation in this country. But, slavery forced us together.


Thomas Jefferson wanted to be completely self-sufficient. It's ironic that he could only do this on the backs of almost 200 slaves. The plaque at Monticello references only about 110. But,from what I've read elsewhere, the actual number is closer to 200. If Jefferson could make a thing at Monticello, he did. He had wool spun, fabric produced, buttons made, a nailery (where they made nails), they produced their own charcoal, they did their own carpentry, at least one carriage was made there), he grew his own grapes for wine (from grapes imported from Italy). And that's just the tip of the iceberg. However, when I look at plantation life, it's not with a sense of longing for the "good old days" or even admiration for what they accomplished. I see an economic engine that benefited a chosen few. An engine whose fuel was the blood, sweat and tears of men, women and children. Monticello, while fascinating in many ways, was still a plantation. Even while I was admiring Monticello during the tour, I never wanted to forget that and I never will. It's not so hard to achieve financial success when you have a virtually unlimited pool of free labor.



After the professor's speech, Lucia Cinder Stanton, Senior Research Historian at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation (and probably the world's foremost authority on slave life at Monticello) spoke to us. She told us about a "day in the life" of Monticello. I assumed this would be a generic, this is what would happen on a typical day. But,
great⁴ grandfather was a man who I'm guessing would be diagnosed with OCD
today. He kept a journal on every detail of his (business) life. So, when you do a day in the life of Jefferson, you can pick a day like July 14, 1814 and do that day. He began his day by noting the weather making notes like "CAR" (clear after rain) and giving the exact rainfall, down to two
decimal places). He gave us the decimal monetary system and tried to take the nation to decimal measures all around. He spent this particular day riding around the property (up to 5,000 acres back then) noting how things were going. Earlier I said he wanted Monticello to be completely self-sufficient. So there was a lot to check on. He would note how much fabric was produced in the mills (by each worker), how many hours each worker worked, how many nails were produced, when the tomatoes would be ripe (three days from now), etc. There are journals covering decades of exactly everything he bought. Yet, such a detail oriented man died in debt (way in debt!). He was obsessed with living the good life and apparently, he was going to have what he wanted, no matter the cost. He said he detested slavery. Yet, he only freed two slaves during his lifetime, allowed two to "run away" and freed five after his death. We did hear stories of others who freed more slaves (in life and in death- it's easy to give them up when you don't need them anymore). But, I always wonder how a man who could write the words of the Declaration of Independence and father so many children by a "Black" (remember Sally Hemings was 3/4 white) woman could sleep at night knowing his crown-jewel, Monticello, was built and run by enslaving men, women and children. Most of us think of slaves as dark skinned, nappy headed Africans. That would at least distance them from the masters in appearance. But, many slaves looked no different than their masters. Children with the same father and different mothers grew up on the same land but in completely different worlds. There's a report of at least one person remarking how much one of Sally Hemings children (a slave) looked like Thomas Jefferson himself. Thomas Jefferson, while a great thinker, public servant and full of ideals was complex and flawed as we all are. He could only live the lifestyle he chose to live by making the decision to keep slaves. Given the compromises I made every day to provide for myself and my family, I cannot honestly say that I know, to a certainty, I wouldn't do the same thing. But, I don't think I would. ...I hope I wouldn't.



After the speeches, it was time to head up to Monticello. I say "up" because Monticello, which means "little mountain" is scenically located just outside Charlottesville up on a "little mountain". From the right vantage point, Jefferson could look down and see his handiwork, the University of Virginia. We missed the scheduled children's tour because they neglected to tell us that you can only drive up to about half a mile away from the house, then you have to take a bus up. But, I think that turned out OK. We were told the next (available) tour of the house didn't start until 5:10 (and it was about 3 o'clock).  I was amazed at the number of people touring Monticello. So, we decided instead to walk the grounds and see the house later (at the reception where we got exclusive access to rooms not available to the public). I as kind of dreading this. As I said, I see plantations as just several notches above concentration camps. The difference being plantations were set up on a system dependent on the exploitation of an enslaved people and concentration camps were set up for a people's destruction. Plantations could not have existed without forced labor. he South could not have produced its cotton and rice (rice shown to them by Africans) without the labor the stole from Africa. As I strolled the gardens that Jefferson strolled, viewed the beautiful views he looked over and walked into the bedroom where he and Sally Hemings may have conceived children that he denied, I felt conflicted. Ty made the comment that my ancestors had worked
these fields and lived in these 12'x20' slave houses. But, I had to remind her (and myself) that my ancestor also owned these fields, owned my grand⁴ grandmother and penned the Declaration of Independence.


After walking through the gardens, we strolled down to the Jefferson cemetery. That's something I normally would have taken a pass on. But, hearing the stories orally, from real flesh and blood people brought these names to life for me.  Not only was my grand⁴ grandfather buried there. But, the relatives of many of the people I had been meeting over the last few days. We joked about being buried there in the family plot, knowing that ain't gonna happen. I later found out that a certain part of the family blocked having the sunrise service in the graveyard the following morning. And there is still an issue with anyone descended from slaves being buried here. But, we didn't know either of those things at the time. As we returned to Monticello for the evening's festivities, we noticed the slave burial ground, almost half of a mile from the main house- way down the hill. Despite the detailed records of commerce at Monticello, there was o record of the slave burial ground. It was only discovered in 2001. Slaves were buried with maybe a rock to mark the grave. No inscriptions.


After the graveyard, we strolled up along Mulberry Row where much of the work was done, back in the day. There were people making cabinets, making barrels, making nails, making baskets from oak (I had no idea how they split the wood to make those things) and demonstrating how the slaves cooked. As I watched the skill involved in those things, I continually thought "How could they say Blacks cannot be self-sufficient when many Blacks were practicing crafts way above the level of the average White person of the time?" It's amazing to me what people can rationalize. Blacks could obviously speak, think, show emotion and reproduce with Whites. Yet, somehow White people managed to dehumanize them. I've heard that Blacks were often compared to animals or to children (of limited capacity). But, when it came to using them for skilled labor or for having sex with them, White people gave them responsibilities they would never give to children and did things with them they would not have done with animals.



Speaking of cooking, did you like the looks of the spread in that picture? Well, here's what each slave was given to live on for the week. That's a peck of corn and a little "fat back". I know they didn't know a lot about nutrition 200 plus years ago. But, they knew this wasn't enough to keep a person healthy. Slaves supplemented their rations by farming, hunting and fishing. But, since they worked, for the master, sun up to sun down 6 days a week, there wasn't a lot of time for this. Masters would though buy back excess food from the slaves, giving them their own spending money. Jefferson allowed the barrel makers to keep every 31st barrel of the barrels they produced. This could be sold for some income. The lady doing the cooking (she had just made an awesome looking chicken stew in a dutch oven) told us about how dependent the plantation was on the slaves and we talked about it for a while. From our name tags, she knew we were with the Monticello Gathering. But, I don't think her presentation was tailored to us. I was happy to hear that visitors to Monticello were being given both sides of the story. She told us she was honored to have us there. That was a strange feeling. Honored seemed like a strong word. But, it was another nice welcome home.


After freshening up for a bit back at the hotel, it was time for the reception on the lawn at Monticello. And, we could finally go in
"the big house". The reception was great. The food was even better than the day before. I was happy the kids got to experience the "fancy" reception. The tour of the house was just fascinating. The first thing I noticed was the clock above the doorway (both inside and out) and the weather vane indicator on the porch. In the entryway, there is the first sign that Thomas Jefferson was not perfect. The clock is operated by a weight that moves from day to day. You see Sunday through Friday. But, then there's hole in the floor and no Saturday. Saturday is in the basement. The clock mechanism is actually too high for the room. Oops! We were allowed to go
up to the third floor into the "dome room" and a couple of pretty plain bedrooms. These rooms are normally not accessible to the public. I was disappointed by a couple of things though. The dome was built below the roof-line on the front of the house. I really thought of Jefferson as sitting up there and looking out over Charlottesville. Not! The windows on that side of the dome don't allow that view. You might notice in this picture, the bottom half of the round windows is mirrored because it's below roof level. Also, there are no high porches or decks he could have sat out on. Major surprise to me. There's a door at the opposite end of entrance to the dome room that looks like it would open onto a deck. But, it opens to a storage area. "Proper architecture" dictated the door be put there to balance the doorway on the other side of the room.  But, there was no where for the door to lead to.


Inside, I guess I was most fascinated with Jefferson's library and his bedroom (which were connected). His office was literally right next to his bed. He had a thermometer in the bedroom right next to his bed (which struck me as odd since there was no central air or heat). The clock is right at the foot of his bed. It is said he arose when he could see the clock. That's early that close to the East coast. I know because the sun woke me up pretty early Friday, Saturday and Sunday. There is a chamber ("closet" above his bed, someone said that's where Sally Hemings spent many nights. A closet with ventilation holes?


The kitchen arrangements also were worth noting. The kitchen, cooks'
quarters, smokehouse,
dairy, etc. were down a kind of outdoor hallway on the left side of the house. The other side of
the house had a similar hallway with stables, etc. But, the dining room was on the complete opposite side of the house. The cooks (or runners) had to take the food from the kitchen, down this passageway, through the basement, up the first floor. Then, it was put on a lazy susan (to the right side of the dining room) and spun around to the house slaves who actually served the White people. That way, the White people
didn't have to see or smell the sweaty slaves who had to make these trips.


After the tour of the house, we stood outside for family pictures. We took one with the whole clan. As we were arranging ourselves, someone (I'm guessing of us "darker" cousins) broke into a spontaneous chorus of "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge. But, they changed "I got all my sisters with me." to "I got all my cousins with me.". It was one of the goosebumps moments. I don't have that picture yet.

A few more observations on my family. I was thrilled with the way everybody came together. There wasn't a whitewashing of the past or a denial of the past nor was there anger or bitterness over the past. We talked about the past, accepted all of it, shook our heads and said our "sorrys" about parts of it, embraced parts of it and were willing and ready to move on. We acknowledged that there were good things and bad things about it, just as there were good and bad things about great⁴ grandfather. He was a complicated man, just as we all are. He had many good and brilliant traits. He was an amazing architect, botanist, entrepreneur, political leader, philosopher, etc., etc. Yet, he was not without his flaws. He didn't know when to quit acquiring. He didn't nearly live up to the ideals he set down on paper concerning freedom. He denied and enslaved is own children.



As I said, I'm not much on history, genealogy, all that stuff. But, the trip was good. I'm proud of my ancestors. My White friends often wonder aloud why the Black community is so dysfunctional. Their perception is slavery was a blip and the civil rights movement of the 60s fixed everything. Most of us (including myself sometimes) underestimate the effects of the diaspora on Black people. It was more than a scattering, as the term diaspora implies. They were ripped from their homeland, lost their names, their culture and had another culture thrust upon them. Children were born with their fathers denying them. We still see this happening generations later- so many Black childen growing up without fathers. The effects are still being felt. The ripples have not smoothed out yet. OTOH, it was fascinating recognizing the other part of my heritage also. Thomas Jefferson, one of the most influential men of all time is a part of my family. The slaves that left Monticello led fascinating lives themselves, becoming leaders in their own communities, probably due to his influence. As I look at my own family who has escaped much of the misery and poverty other Blacks still suffer, I wonder how much of that goes back to the fact we were fortunate enough to have come through Monticello rather than some other plantation.



As we drove back yesterday, I asked the girls what they thought about the trip. They loved it. But, they loved seeing Brent's kids (Alyssa and Brianna). Kayla seemed to appreciate Monticello. Shayna... not so much. That's to be expected for Shayna. But, I told her I hoped she would remember the trip because we learned some very important things and I don't think we'll be making it again as a family. She said "I'm never going to make that trip again in my long, long life?" I told her she probably would come back there some day with her family and show them what she saw and appreciate it more then. The trip back was good. The girls were great.



We arrived home safely. I love my little retreat here. From now on, I'll think of it
as my own little Monticello. No slaves. But, we are pretty self-sufficient running our own business and making many of our own products. We are pretty active in the community, too. So, maybe a little of great4 grandfather is still in there. To be like great⁴ grandfather and give some detail, it took 8-1/2 hours back (about 450 miles) and about 9 hours to get there. The weather was good. Sunny most of the way, rain coming through the South Eastern part of Ohio. A little CAR (clouds after rain). We made a few stops.  But, only one stop for breakfast at McDonald's on the way back (no lunch). It was nice to pull back into our own little Monticello, up on the hill, sit on the deck and enjoy our view.



All in all, I'm glad I went, very glad I went. A good time
was had by all.



P.S.- Since coming back I've already been in touch with Prinny and
Connye again.  Maybe we can get a little Internet community
going.

Charlottesville- Family Reunion

We're in Charlottesville, VA. We're here for the Jefferson family reunion. After a 9 hour drive last night, we arrived at the Sleep Inn, our accommodations for the first night. The girls, Ty and I shared a room. It didn't work out too bad. The girls were very good on the trip. Very patient. Shayna slept a little. But, they didn't use their usual and ask every five minutes when we'd be here. It took about an hour longer than Google Maps estimated (and MapQuest) and, the mile markers along I-64 were very confusing as they changed twice in Virginia causing us to not know if we were an hour away or 4-5 hours away (fortunately, it turned out to be closer to the former).

Today, Mom and Dad arrived with "the cousins". So, the kids are in heaven now. They love spending time with Brent & Sherri's kids. We had lunch on the walking mall in front of the restaurant. It's a great area with quaint shops, sidewalk vendors and small restaurants. Mom and I did a little shopping. She, of course, did some damage. Tonight is the reception at the University of Virginia, founded by the man himself- Thomas Jefferson. Tomorrow, we tour Monticello. I have mixed feelings about that. But, it should be a great experience for the girls.

Low Key Fourth Of July

We had a very nice 4th. But, it was very low key. Tuesday, we went over to the neighbors to watch fireworks. There must have been a couple of hundred people there watching about $600 worth of imported (Indiana) fireworks. Yesterday, the girls and Ty hung out at the pool until the thunder started. Since the weather was so iffy, we decided to skip going to Blue Ash or Sharonville for fireworks. Instead, we grilled some Black Angus steaks (the girls and mine were just brown on the outside and cool in the center), sauted some kale and I invented up a sweet potato casserole recipe. Then, we watched Les Miserables. The girls loved it. Poor Shayna though bawled like a baby when Fontine died. It took her about 15 minutes to recover.

Just as the girls were coming up to go to bed, we noticed all the fireworks shows were going. It's hard to get an exact count. But, we could see at least 10 clearly from our front yard.

No pictures from yesterday (bad Brian!). Sorry.

My Father's Day...

Everyone else celebrated Father's Day on June 17th this year. But, I had mine a day early. Ty and the girls were headed to Kentucky to have a meal with her family. But, my gift for Father's Day has always been to watch the final round of the U.S. Open. With Tiger only 2 strokes back, I couldn't abandon him (although he let me down and didn't win).

The girls and Ty gave me a collection of golf shirts. And, the girls insisted that we have to do something special to celebrate. But, since Shell and her boys are here this week that probably won't happen.

Visit Home

We went to Columbus to visit Mom & Dad. Mom took the girls and Ty to the Arts Festival and Dad and I hung out and watched some golf. Brent, Brandon, Bridget and Holly dropped by and we all had dinner together.

This portrait of Dad captures him in one of the moments I'll always remember him by, chewing on a piece of ice and mumbling incoherently because he talks with ice in his mouth.

Pool Party At Chuck's

Chuck and Deb had an impromptu pool party today. We had a great time with everybody. Of course, the girls spent the entire time in the water.

Brent's Family Down for a Visit

Alyssa had a soccer tournament in town and it was Brianna's birthday. So, the whole crew was here this weekend (well, they came in shifts with Sherri, Alyssa, Brianna and Zach as the first wave, followed by Brent and Aaron.

Alyssa won the tournament.