Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness: Missoula, MT

When David saw that our local REI was having the Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness class (and it is FREE), he immediately sent me a text and signed us up.  We wanted to take this class when they offered it last year but I was out of town.  I'm glad he waited for me because I had a lot to learn.

 

They took us in the back storage room for the class. The sign is a little confusing.  They are directing us to go right for the class but then at the bottom are warning us of Zombies and to Keep Out!  We decide to risk it.

They are set up for about 40 people.  We are the 2nd to arrive.  I wondered if the three of us there would be it but they filled a little more than half of the seats.  Most were couples like us, one in the back had a newborn with them.  The guy sitting next to me is a little on the odd side.  You might be thinking, You went to a Zombie Preparedness class and people living in houses Zombies can break into shouldn't throw stones.  But he is weird in the way that makes you think that he thinks the show The Walking Dead is a documentary.  Incidentally, I have never watched a single episode of that show.  David would sometimes watch when I was in the room doing something else or in the next room and the sounds alone are enough to run me off.  Like when the kids were teenagers and were trying to watch Saw in the living room and I could hear it in my office.  I made them turn it off.

 

I'm not sure if she is supposed to be a Zombie or if she was in an earthquake and had to dig out of her house or what.  This poster from the Centers for Disease Control (CDC)  was on the door we entered through.  I visited the website listed at the bottom (emergency.cdc.gov).  No mention of Zombies. 

 

The class lasted about 45 minutes and the instructor actually has a masters degree in emergency preparedness (no emphasis on Zombies).  This class is basic emergency preparedness (they were honest about this at registration) with some funny stuff thrown in about Zombies.

There are some handouts and slides to explain the stages of Zombieness?  Zombieism?  

The one that I struggled with the most was smell.  Zombies smell bad.  But several times during the presentation hygiene came up - or more specifically - the possibility that hygiene won't be high on the priority list in any emergency.  We might start to smell bad.  How can I tell if David has turned zombie or not when his BO takes over?  And what about teenaged boys?  They smell bad all of the time.  Do we kill them and not take any chances?  As the mother of a son, I found teenage boys to be generally useless so I might have to give this more thought if the you-know-what hits the fan.  Even our dog Karma didn't like teenage boys.  Every puberty-riddled male that walked through our door made her bark and growl and caused her back hair to get up.  No other group of people or individual person makes her do that.  

You know what they say...dogs sense evil.

 

If you are inclined to deal with your hygiene, these towels might come in handy.  They are only slightly bigger than my thumb.  As their tag line points out it is "The Only Towel That is a Survival Tool".  Could be true.  If David smells good he is less likely to get accidentally hacked up with my Sog Tomahawk.  That would be ironically sad too since he was the one who bought it for me.  

During the presentation they show things that you can buy at REI, obviously this is expected.  But she didn't cram it down our throats and she also showed clothes that can't be purchased there, food that came from the regular grocery store and other things purchased elsewhere.  She also provided websites and information on other companies, some that I had no idea existed.  Like Zombie Tools.  This company is even based here in Missoula and they make tools appropriate for Zombie eradication - swords, knives and bladed instruments of all kinds.  After checking them out, I don't understand how Helena made the #1 city for Zombie Apocalypse survival in Montana.  

 I am set for blades.  David bought me a machete a couple of years ago that I carry when we hike and also the aforementioned Sog tomahawk.  He tried to tell me when I mentioned wanting it that the Sog isn't for chopping wood, it is for killing people.  I said, "What's your point?"  He is a very trusting man.

There were several things I learned in the class that I didn't know and other things I knew but might not have thought about again had she not mentioned them.  I took a lot of notes and it did cross my mind that people (the instructor in particular) probably thought I was the odd one because I was the only one doing that.  Here are a couple of notes I made that need to be shared:

• A shovel is probably your best choice for a weapon/tool combo.  You can use it "to bash a zombies head and to bury your poop".
• Boots are also a good choice as a multi-purpose purchase.  They are good for warmth, difficult terrain and "smashing brains".
• Guns are not a good choice.  Ammo is heavy, you will eventually run out and the noise attracts more zombies.
• Slow moving zombies are called Walkers.  My maiden name is Walker.  Take what you will from that.
• You will get bored.  Pack something to entertain yourself.  I mentioned this to a lady I work with and she immediately produced and gifted to me a tiny deck of cards.  

After class, I thought more about this than I expected.  Not about the zombies but about being prepared in an emergency.  David and I have a lot of the things they suggested we have but I realized they aren't all in one place.  If we had to evacuate our house in a hurry, we would be hard pressed to get it all together.  Iin a place like Montana where it is early November as I write this and we already have snow, we need to be prepared to be outdoors in harsh weather.  It is easy to think we will never need to leave in an emergency or to "shelter-in-place" but it happens.  We have already had a flood at our house (we have hip-waders hanging on a hook in the garage because of this, they could be handy in the future).  We could get snowed in.  There could be a wildfire (there was one not far from here the second year we lived here).  There could be an earthquake. 

I brought up what I was thinking about a few times  over the next several days with David.  He openly told me he was concerned that I might go too far and become a "prepper".  Until I make him dig a pit in the backyard for a secret underground schoolbus shelter (a real thing, look it up), I think he is overreacting that I might be overreacting.  I did investigate some things on the Internet including the CDC website and Ready.gov, the website the instructor suggested.  Most of these had the same lists of things you should have in your Emergency Kit.  It just so happened that I recently emptied a large Rubbermaid tub like the one the instructor showed so I decided it was time for us to make a kit.  Here's what I put in it.  The items with an * are things we already owned, I just had to locate them.

• 2 pair of inexpensive work gloves
• a set of 3 crescent wrenches in various sizes
• box of kitchen trash bags* (good for hygiene or trash)
• box of contractor bags* (can be used to seal up windows/doors for pandemic or hazmat problems)
• roll of duct tape (we had this but I bought a fresh roll)
• 2 Life Straws (lets you drink from potentially contaminated sources without treating first)
• 2 particle respirator masks (we also had these but they are well used so I got new ones, they were $1)
• a BBQ lighter
• 2 small flashlight/glow stick combos in red (the recommended color)
• Notebook/pen/pencil/sharpie*
• Tiny Deck of Cards*
• 2 sticks of Chapstick
• Bug spray & sunscreen
• Toilet paper - wet and dry* variety (this will be the new economy by the way)
• 2 large lantern-style flashlights with extra batteries (one of the flashlights is in the hall by the garage door, one and the batteries in the kit)

I put the kit in the hall closet where I keep my winter weather clothes: snow pants, coats, hats, gloves, scarves.  I could grab what I need when I get The Kit.  David also has a lot of camping stuff in the garage that could be quickly thrown in the truck, stuff like tents and cooking gear).

I also added the recommended first aid items to The Kit:

• Various bandages and bandaids*
• Scissors*
• Non-latex surgical type gloves* (I put in 4 pair and if you are wondering why I already had this, I dye fabric sometimes and it keeps my hands from staining.)
• Medical tape*
• Tweezers (I couldn't find mine which you would know if you looked at my eyebrows so I bought a replacement and one for the kit)
• Instant cold compress
• Bendaryl - liquid* and cream
•  Tylenol* and Advil*
• Asprin (for a heart attack)
• Imodium* (because, diarrhea, if the Life Straws don't work as advertised)
• Petroleum Jelly (could double as "entertainment" in a pinch)
• Hydrocortisone cream
• Rubbing alcohol
• Wet Wipes*

And Food/Water:

• 10 Gallons of water (we had none, they recommend 1 gallon per person for a minimum of 3 days for both hydration and sanitation/hygiene/cooking, more if you have special needs or a pet - which we do).  This the only thing not physically in the kit, it is on a shelf in the garage.  We could chunk in a vehicle of we had to go.  If we were at home, the ground water wasn't contaminated and we could get outside, we are on a well and could pump more.
• 2 cans of Spam (they actually don't recommend this because it is salty and bad for hydration but I had to get something David will eat)
•  2 pkgs Tyson white chicken chunks
• 2 cans of sardines in oil (for me, David will NOT eat these, even in an emergency)
• A large jar of Peanut Butter
• 1 box of 8 Atkins chocolate PB bars (low sugar - David is diabetic)
• 1 box of 4 Kind bars in chocolate/sea salt flavor

If we had to leave the house for more than a week, we wouldn't have enough food so I need to keep working on that. If we stayed here, I always have rice and potatoes and other staples on hand.  There is a Costco in Missoula.  I don't have a membership because I despise that place but they do have this:

 

This is the SMALL one.  If you look in the sidebar there is another bigger one for the bargain price of almost $4,000.  That will have to wait until David digs our secret pit.

 

I needed dry milk to make some bread a few days after the class and found that the store down the street only carries a Zombie Apocalypze size box - like this one of the same size at WalMart.  That is a 4 LB box.  If I bought this for The Kit I would have to buy 4 pounds of chocolate Nesquik to go with it or David would never touch it.

 

Poking around the Internet I also found you can get this Zombie Extermination, Research and Operations kit on the OpticsPlanet website.  For a bargain basement price of just under $24k.  

I don't think I have gone that far over the edge.  I did think that we needed to also prep our vehicles (again, cold and snowy here) so in the back of my car I now have (I also made David a car kit with minor changes):

• A bag of kitty litter (for traction, not hygiene); David is to get sand for his truck, it helps add weight to the tail end and can be used for traction (he had this in the past but we used it up sandbagging during our flood)
• 12 16oz bottles of water
• A fleece blanket*
• A sleeping bag*
• A first aid kit
• Wet Wipes*
• A flashlight and extra batteries
• A change of clothes* (I didn't do this for David)
• A 4 pack box of those same Kind bars (also just me)
• Ice scraper, snow broom*
• I can of Fix-A-Flat

I realized during this exercise that I don't even own jumper cables.  David is presently researching a stand alone jumper kit for my car so we can order it today.  When that arrives, I will make him take me out and show me how to use it.  I also want him to show me how to change my tire.  I did this exactly once something like 20 years ago and I put it on backwards (Remember that mom?).  Who knew you could even do that?  I am also ordering 2 NOAA compliant emergency radios (one for The Kit and one for my car) and 2 tools for breaking auto glass and cutting seat belts (one for each vehicle).  

The last thing they covered that I never really considered was evacuating while at work.  This is particularly stupid of me since I have had to leave my hotel room more than once due to fire alarms.  Once, it wasn't a false alarm and I couldn't find my room keys.  I had to stand at the front desk bra-less in my sleepwear to get a replacement key when they let us back in.  All while meeting a customer for the first time.  Not good.  Now I make sure to leave clothes (including a bra) and shoes readily accessible and put my car and room keys in my purse by the door before I go to bed.  I also added a small first aid kit and flashlight to the bag I carry on the plane when I travel.

The Ready.gov website had a list of items you should keep at your desk in case you have to shelter-in-place or evacuate and walk a long distance (again, prepared for extremes like the cold if you live in Montana).  Since I work at home, I have the whole kit here.  But David could have this happen.  I figure the kit in his truck can double for this.  Since he works at the airport, they have a pretty relaxed dress code and it can get cold in the hanger so he is usually prepared for that.  Being diabetic, he needs to keep some food in his desk and truck.  I am leaving it to him to handle that.  That is probably naive of me but he is a grown man after all.  I am also trying to get better about hanging my keys up when I get home so I know where they are and knowing where my shoes are since I rarely wear them when I am in the house.

There was one thing that they didn't cover in the class that was already ingrained in me by my dad.  Gas.  Not the "I hope you put Gas-X in The Kit" kind of gas but the gas in your car kind.  David is really bad about letting his truck and/or my car if he drove it last get really low on gas.  Less than 1/4 of a tank bothers me but he is okay with waiting for the light to come on.  And then waiting some more.  I finally told him (after more than 25 years of marriage) that this drives me crazy.  What if we had an emergency in the middle of the night?  If the Zombies are coming at 1 am you don't want to have to stop and get gas.  But in all seriousness, what if one of us was sick or injured?  We live 30 miles out of the nearest city with a hospital and we only have a volunteer fire department.  Our next door neighbor recently collapsed at home and had to be taken in an ambulance to Missoula and then taken to Salt Lake by CareFlight.  If I had to stop and get gas during a time like that I would probably freak out.  I am going to train him to start leaving more gas in the vehicles, maybe it will only take another 25 years of nagging gentle reminding.

As a former fireman, dad also preached that you change the batteries in your smoke detectors when the time changes.  Ours were changed recently (they were chirping at us) so instead, we bought replacement 9-volts for all 7 of them to have on hand.  But the other thing I will do now, based on this class, is update the kit at the same time.  I asked the instructor how often she rotates her food and other items that expire (like medicine) and she said she would do it that weekend, when time changed.  That weekend, I put The Kit together and went through our cabinets (food and medicine) and got rid of anything that was overly expired (defined by me as more than a year).  Like the sunscreen that expired in 2007.  For someone that can get a sunburn sitting in my office in a long sleeved shirt with the curtains drawn, it was particularly sad that I let that go so far past.  No more, I have a schedule now.

And because my dad taught me these extra lessons I decided I wanted to pay it forward.  I will be at his house next weekend and his birthday was yesterday so I got him a few things (don't tell him if you see him, I want it to be a surprise):

1. A solar-powered hand-crank emergency radio with am-fm-weather options.
2. A monogrammed (Stanley) Swiss-army style tool that has a mini-ax on the top.

 3.  For his food supply.  He considers Eagle Brand one of the 4 food groups.

I am feeling fairly confident there will be an emergency requiring pancakes at his house next Saturday.  I can teach my grandkids to improvise with their utensils using dad's multi-tool and to crank the radio until NOAA comes in while we ensure these products don't make it past their expiration date. 

My daughter knows how to make a fire by rubbing sticks together.  I think I will schedule her to teach a lesson after breakfast.  It is never too soon to start teaching the next generation of preppers.

 

Amsterdammit: Amsterdam, The Netherlands

When David received the message he would be going to Scotland, he asked if I wanted to go.  Initially, I said no.  We were at our son's wedding.  There had been expenses involved with that whole affair.  When my aunt passed away and I traveled to Florida, I spent a lot more than I originally planned.  I had spent quite a bit of money in a very short period of time.  I just couldn't see spending the money for me to go right now.  Then I talked to Carla.

Everyone needs a friend like Carla.  Carla will tell me if I look fat, or tired, or my outfit is awful.  She will tell me if I am being unreasonable or mean or ignorant.  When I told Carla about my not going on this trip she said,"Stop being an idiot."  She may have said I was crazy too.  "When will you ever get the chance to go again for just the cost of your plane ticket and food?"  She was right.  All of our hotel and David's airfare and food would be covered by his company as he is going to attend a conference.

The day after my talk with Carla, David sent me a text as I was getting started on my work day.  "Tim died this morning."  His friend Tim had died after arriving at work.  Sitting at his desk he had a heart attack and just like that he was gone.  Tim was in his 50s.  I sent David a message back, "I'm going to Scotland with you."

Because that is what life is about.  Living it while you can.  Not being an idiot and skipping a chance of a lifetime.  I had never been outside of the US before.  Not even Mexico or Canada when both had been options at different times.  I didn't even have a passport.  David had been on my case to get that done with us living only about 3 hours from the border with Canada but I was dragging my feet.  Not on purpose, but that was the reality.  I printed the paperwork and it sat in my in-tray for a long time.  Then I filled it out and it sat some more.  Then I found my birth certificate and paper clipped it to the application and it sat again.  That is the state it was in when I decided to go.  And because of that, I got to spend an extra $80 in all to do an expedited passport.

Now, at 46, I finally have my passport and a plane ticket to Scotland.  Our trip will take us from Montana to Salt Lake City, UT to Amsterdam to Glasgow.  The flight from Salt Lake to Amsterdam is 10 hours by itself.  I am excited the night before and was worried I would have trouble sleeping.  I didn't, that is until 6 am when Delta sends me a text message.  Our flight in Salt Lake is going to be delayed an hour and we will miss our connection in Amsterdam.  I am not sure how they already knew this since we weren't even due to leave Montana for a few more hours.

We get to Salt Lake and discover that the plane to take us to Amsterdam is coming from Amsterdam.  That's how they knew.  Amsterdam is 8 hours ahead of us so when they left there late, it sealed our fate very early.  Two of David's colleagues are on all of our same flights.  As promised, we leave SLC about an hour late.  Fortunately, David and I are seated in a 2 seat section so it is just us.  I really wanted to sleep and took Advil PM but it wasn't meant to be.  I couldn't get comfortable even with the extra leg room we had and the lack of others in our row with us.  I did that sort of twilighty nap thing where you are still vaguely aware of everything but I never really slept.  Somewhere over Canada, the man in the row in front of us starts nudging David's coworker who is seated in front of David.  They are looking out the window so we look too and we see the Northern Lights.

 

It isn't easy to photograph the Aurora Borealis with your iPhone through your airplane window while zooming over Canada in the middle of the night.  I have always wanted to see them and now that I have, it just makes me want to see them again and again and again.  Norway and Alaska may have just moved up on our "someday" list.

But as the universe has a tendency to do with me, it gives and it takes away.  It gave me the Northern Lights so it was time for me to pay.  We arrive in Amsterdam to find that we didn't exactly miss our connection as that flight never left, it was cancelled due to fog.  Really bad fog apparently because flights are being cancelled and delayed like crazy and there are people lined up everywhere.  The lines are very, very, very long.  I can't even stress how long.  Longer than anything I have ever seen in a US airport.  No one there knows where they are supposed to be and the airline and airport employees were no help and in our case, sometimes made matters worse.

We get in a line at a "transfer station" that is for Delta priority members - I am gold with Delta.  The line isn't nearly as long as those who don't have status but it isn't short.  There are 4 employees there to help everyone in both lines.  We will be here a while.  We didn't even join this line until we tried to use the automated kiosks which said "report to desk" and "no alternative flights are available".  While we are in line, the men I am with have various conversations about what we should do.  They check the Delta app which has conflicting information ranging from we have a flight in a few hours no flight at all and this changes each time they look.  A few times one or more of them get out of line to try the kiosks again "just in case".  Because Delta is not the actual carrier now, it will be their partner KLM, that website is consulted and is also giving information that doesn't help.

At some point, one of the men is given the advice by a woman in an official looking uniform that we should get out of this line and go down the the gate.  I really don't want to do this.  I think it is a bad idea to give up our place in this line but I keep that to myself.  I am trying not to end up being called that 5-letter B word that I really, really hate being called.  You know the one.  If you know me, you have probably called me it at some point, especially if you are a man.  Bossy.  So I stay out of it and we leave the line that maybe has 20 people in front of us.  Not that the line is moving.

We go to the gate where they are going to board a flight to Budapest before the next one to Glasgow.  One of the guys goes up to the desk to ask the gate agent to help.  This was after the kiosks were tried again on the way to the gate "just in case".  Incidentally, now the kiosks say we don't exist at all.  One of the gate agents tells us to go away, they can't be bothered with us right now they are working the Budapest flight.  But they aren't.  There is no one at the desk and they are not boarding or getting ready to board right away.  One girl does start to look up some information but ultimately she can't help.  She tells us to go back to the transfer station and get back in that line.

 

As a testament to the weirdness that is this airport and this day, the sign on this door says "Emergency Door, keep clear" in English and Dutch.

 That door is on this wall that is in the middle of the floor with no other walls attached to it.  Please do not block this door that is in this wall that you can walk all the way around.

We pass another transfer station on our way back and the line is incredibly long.  Longer possibly than the one at the original station that wasn't for priority customers.  Back at the original transfer station, the priority line is at least twice as long as it was when we left.  We are standing there when the lady that told us to go to the gate walks by (looking for people who do not have status with Delta to kick them out of this line).  She makes a face and says, "Why are you back in my line?"  She sends us away again, back to the gate.  She promises they will help.  She talked to someone on the phone.  

Back at the gate, guess what happens?  They won't help us.  AND the next flight to Glasgow has been delayed.  We have no idea if we are on that flight but it is delayed for a couple of hours more and we are told we cannot get help until about 40 minutes before the flight.  Back to the transfer station.  More consulting of the Delta App, the kiosks and the KLM website occur.  One of the other guys says he shows confirmed on a flight that will leave the next morning.  David is currently showing he will leave at 1 am and I show the delayed flight.  We arrive back at the transfer station priority line which has grown so long they had to put up temporary barriers as it is probably 5 times as long as it originally was.  

Enough is enough.  I decide the B word is worth risking and I call Delta on the phone.  David and I are confirmed on the first flight that will leave the next day.  I get the boarding passes of David's colleagues and get them squared away as well.  Now we have to get a hotel and clear customs.  This isn't going to be an easy task either as we are not the only ones with this problem.  I think we arrived in Amsterdam around 11 am and it is now around 7 pm.  We tag team the hotel acquisition and one of David's colleagues gets us rooms and we head to the customs line.

 

I am in the front as we try to find the end of the line.  You go down a long hall and turn and there are people as far as you can see.  Down that hall, turn, people as far as you can see.  I think 4 halls later we find the end.  People are cutting like crazy.

These are some of the rudest people I have ever encountered and I have flown a lot and have seen lots of rude behavior.  Besides the blatant cutting in line, people stand right on top of you.  The girl behind us keeps trying to edge past us and makes comments if you don't move up immediately and stand directly on top of the person in front of you.  When we finally get to where the line split to go to one of two custom's agents we were standing back to see which would move faster and she demands to know which line we are in.  BOTH we told her.  I wanted to call her a heifer, my go-to term for irritating people, but since we are not in the US I am not sure how that will translate.

We make it outside and find the shuttle bus to take us to the airport.  On the shuttle, almost immediately the bus driver gets into an altercation with a cab driver.

 

The cab driver ends up driving right in front of our shuttle bus and slamming on his breaks to antagonize our driver.  Our driver in return is tailgating the cab.  I try not to look.  Even when we turn, the cab cuts us off and our shuttle driver never lets up.  Various fingers were displayed before I took this picture.

 

We (luckily) make it to the hotel, the cab driver pulls into the parking lot across the street.  The police are called and they actually come.  I am thinking that I would be shocked for the police to respond to something like this in big-city America when there was no accident and no one was physically injured.

I am getting an extra stamp in my passport because of our delay, The Netherlands.  It is late and we are tired and hungry.  What do The Netherlands offer us?  You may have noticed it in the last picture.

 

That's right...the golden arches of McDonald's.  I have managed for the first time in my life to leave the US only to get to a hotel after a less than ideal day, hoping for some kind of Amsterdammy type experience but no.  They have a McDonald's.  I refused to eat there.  Not for dinner.  Not for breakfast.  It is also the view from our hotel room.  It's like they are mocking me.

In setting up the rooms we learned things can be different over here.  When told we need 3 rooms for 4 adults they ask if we want to be in one room.  Yeah, that is a big fat NO.  They finally understand - 3 hotel rooms, not three beds.

 

We end up with 2 beds in our one room.  Twin beds pushed together.  I was so tired I didn't care if they were pushed together or not.  I would have taken a cot at this point.  We have been awake for something like 21 hours.  I don't even remember David turning off the light.  I was already asleep.  This set up also works for me because I don't like anyone touching me when I am trying to sleep.  Stay on your side of the bed please.  David likes to tether.  He likes to put his hand on me, or his foot.  I hate that.  It is like a hot weight on me and it drives me crazy.  He had to stay on his side or risk falling in the gap.  Or being pushed.

 

In another attempt to keep this experience as American as possible, David finds Little House on the Prairie and I watch my first episode ever while we get ready to leave the next morning.  Not just my first episode in Amsterdam, the first of my whole life.

So far, it is feeling like maybe I should have just stayed in the US.  I could have had been stranded at an airport, had McDonald's and watched reruns of 70s shows there too.  Plus there would be two less American men in the world who learned that I can be bossy (allegedly).  I don't know if the men in the rest of the world will find me that way.  I have to find some first.

Saying Goodbye: Pensacola, FL

My aunt died.  It wasn't unexpected but really, does that matter?  Does that make it easier for the people that loved her?  Of course not.  She was ill for a long time but things had deteriorated and my cousin notified me that she was in hospice.  So I told her, when the time comes, I will be on my way.  But, as often happens in these situations, it didn't turn out exactly the way I planned.

Phyllis was my dad's only sibling.  They were close growing up.

 

When your mom regularly dresses you up and poses you for pictures, I assume you form a special bond.  There are a large number of pictures of my dad and Phyllis in various outfits, not always matching like the ones above, being posed both with and without their parents.  Church, funeral, school events like prom, Easter, Christmas, birthdays, a new haircut.  No event was too small for this exercise.

My dad moved to Texas in the late 60's and he and Phyllis never lived geographically close after that with Phyllis moving just over the line from their hometown of Atmore, Alabama to the Pensacola, FL area.  Almost every summer, we loaded up the car and made the 12+ hour drive to spend time with my dad's family and in particular, Phyllis's family.

 

This was a common ritual.  My parents LOVE the beach.  I do not (nor did Phyllis).  Possibly because I hate sand, maybe from being buried to my neck every summer.  The only plus side to this is being protected from sunburn, something I can do after being exposed to very little sun. 

Front to back:   Me, my brother Donnie, my brother Aaron, my cousin David, my cousin Dawn (they are brother and sister).

I saw my mother's family constantly growing up.  They lived nearby and we also had a boy and girl cousin on that side that were close in age to us.  I enjoyed spending time with both families but there is something about spending time with Phyllis's family that was different.  I peg it to staying in hotels and beach houses.  Staying at your aunt's actual home (which happened with Phyllis but not that often), isn't as memorable.  

 

I am sure our parents could say where this was taken but I cannot.  I do remember the outfit I am wearing and that a person in a gas station asked if I was a boy or girl.  Really?  I am the little blonde girl.  Do people really dress their sons in halter tops?  That's Phyllis on the left, her husband (one of my 3 uncles named Jim) and then my mom on the right.

 

Jim & Phyllis with David & Dawn.  This photo brings back so many memories.  We stayed in that hotel a bunch of times, the Holiday Inn in Navarre, FL.  I don't think it is there anymore, I believe one of the hurricanes damaged it beyond repair.

 Back to not sure of the location exactly.  My grandpa once took us swimming in a gravel pit so there is no telling.  That's Phyllis with my brothers on her left and Dawn in the foreground.  I don't know where I was but my guess somewhere in the shade.

I think Phyllis probably took this photo.  I also think this is the one and only year that my parents flew us out to visit in advance of their coming.  We stayed at Phyllis's house and at both of our (divorced) grandparent's houses.  I cut a huge gash on my upper thigh after I accused Donnie of cheating at cards and went to leave in a huff.  My grandpa's solution was to lay me on the floor and pour rubbing alcohol on it.  Based on the size of the scar I don't think I would be wrong in saying I actually needed stitches.  That's me in the middle in the white dress.  The tall one.

 Me and Phyllis laying on the beach.  No doubt we both sunburned that day.  It was always easy to see where I got my freckles from when I was around Phyllis.  I think I am about 16 here.  That's uncle Jim in the sunglasses behind us.  I could have sworn I had a copy of this where Phyllis was looking at the camera but I couldn't find it anywhere which makes me really sad.

When I was 18, her son, my cousin David died.  He was in a car accident the Wednesday before my wedding.  His sister Dawn was supposed to be my Maid of Honor.  Obviously, she wasn't as understandably none of that family came.  I got married on Saturday and on Sunday my parent's called to ask my new husband David and I to postpone our honeymoon so they could go be with Phyllis when David died.  We agreed.  He died that Monday.

 

Me and Dawn at her wedding in 1992. I'm still the tall one.

 

This picture was taken just a couple of weeks before Dawn's wedding (the baby is my son Blake).  We had traveled there when my grandpa died.  Someone suggested that maybe the women in our family shouldn't get married because someone always died around that event.  For Dawn it was grandpa.  For me it was David.  Phyllis's grandmother Dora died around the time of her wedding.

One thing about Phyllis that stands out to me, and really applies to that whole family, is that she always seemed happy.  She was always smiling.  Look at her in the picture above.  I know she wasn't always happy, no one is ever always anything.  But my impressions of her now and as long as I can remember, she was a positive person.  My dad has that trait too.  You never hear them complain or use words like "I wish".   I never heard her be sad about David's passing.  Whenever she talked about him she lit up, she smiled, she talked about happy times.  I want to be like that.

After her husband Jim died, things started to change.  After a few years, Dawn was forced to seek care for her mother.  Alzheimer's, early onset I would say since she was only in her mid-60's when she passed away.  Like her mother, I never heard Dawn complain.  She took care of it with a grace I hope to have half of if I am one day called to make the difficult decisions she was forced to make. 

When Phyllis passed away, my dad called me.  I asked if he planned to go to Florida and he said he would let me know.  He and my mother had been there only a few weeks before and he had said he wouldn't go back when the time came.  Knowing my dad I thought he might have changed his mind.  When he decided yes they would go, I knew my course of action.  

I would fly to Texas (from Montana) and then help him make the long drive to Pensacola.  Dad drives a truck for a living and let's face it, he isn't getting any younger (that was for you dad), so I didn't like the idea of him making that long drive by himself.  It isn't that he can't, that didn't matter.  I didn't want him to.   There are few people in the world that bring out my protective side but he is one of them.  Once, when he was playing softball, a man on the other team was heckling him while he pitched and it took a lot of self-control for me to not go punch that man in the face.  My plan is to get the keys as soon as I can and to do as much driving as possible.

All of this would delay my getting to Dawn as fast as promised but it felt like the right thing to do.  Besides, thinking Dawn would need me right away (or at all) was a fallacy.  It isn't that she didn't want me to come but she doesn't need me.  She has a great family, close friends, good colleagues at work.  She would have been okay had I never made it at all.

I flew to Texas and we made plans to start the drive the next morning.  When my brother asked what time we were leaving I told him that mom was setting her alarm for 6 am so my guess would be 9.  I was close...we got in the car at 8:30.  That's when things started to fall apart.  My mom calls her mom while we are still on the street my parents live on.   Her mom is unwell and at 90 years old, that is a big deal.  There is conversation about missing medication.  She speaks to one of my aunts who is at my grandmother's home and there is talk of going to a hospital.

Getting to Dawn quickly wasn't about Phyllis.  It was about Dawn.  When the discussion began about what needed to happen my dad said it perfectly to my mother, "Phyllis is gone, I can't do anything for her now.  Your mother is still here.  We have to take care of the living."  So dad drove me to DFW airport, I rented a car and drove on alone.  I know it was hard for my dad but I also know he would never tell you he was sorry for that decision or that it was wrong.  That's not the way he thinks.  Again, I want to be like that.

So I drove and I thought.  And thought.  And thought.  And wrote some of this post in my head along the way.  Probably some really good stuff I didn't write here. Driving to Florida to say goodbye to Phyllis and to do whatever it was that Dawn needed me to do gave me lots of time to think about them, about family, about my childhood.  

I remember that trip when we flew to Florida without mom and dad clearly.  Maybe because mom and dad weren't there.  Maybe because a lot happened and we had that factor of staying in homes we weren't familiar with and with people we barely ever saw.  What stands out the most is that when we arrived at the airport in Mobile, Phyllis and Jim were there to get us and I was sick.  We drove to their house with Phyllis sitting in the back of the van with me, holding my head in her lap, while I fought the urge to vomit.  I can't be sure that I didn't.  I just remember her caring and kindness and her promise I would be fine.  Those are important things when you are young and away from home and with what almost amounted to strangers.

Phyllis and I saw each other once, maybe twice on average, per year over the whole of my life.  Less after I was an adult.  But there are parts of my life that only she and her family bore witness to.  The time I was sick after the plane ride, when I cut my leg on the table, when I threw up large amounts of watermelon in my grandma's back yard.  Now I think, maybe those things never happened.  There is almost no one left to tell me otherwise.  

My family on that side is dwindling.  My dad, my brother, me and Dawn.  Our families of course.  But as it always is as generations begin to pass on, sometimes those below have a hard time keeping in touch, finding time to be together.  We have that whole geographic distance problem:  Dad and Aaron in Texas, me in Montana, Dawn in Florida.  Both Dawn and I have been married  more than 20 years and our husbands might have met once or twice.  Recently, Dawn and I have made an effort to find a way to see each other at least once a year.  Just like when we were kids.  

 Dawn and I in Nashville this past April.  I'm the one on the left.  Always the tall one.

Memory works in strange ways.  Phyllis lost hers.  I feel like some of mine are less real now that she is gone.  As Dawn and I go on and make new memories, maybe together, by seeing each other and talking about the old times, the fun times, hopefully those memories I feel are fading by the loss of their witnesses, can stay real.  At least for a little while longer.

Side Tripping in Idaho: Twin Falls, ID

I've been busy with other things but now I am finally to get back to business which means, back to Idaho for a few more stories.

When I booked our trip to Idaho, I only set plans for the evening.  I made our plans over a month in advance and had no way of knowing what the weather would be.  I looked up some indoor and outdoor options but in the end decided just to live in the moment and see where the universe took us.  The day after the concert proved to be a beautiful blue sky day and since we don't need to be back in Boise until 7 pm, David suggests we take a side trip over to Twin Falls.

David is constantly telling me what he has "read about" and in this case he has read about a bridge and a falls.  What he hasn't read enough about is how to stay awake in the car.  The drive from Boise south to Twin Falls is not exciting and I experience it largely alone.  As with many aspects of my life (myself, other people, situations, events and in this case places), Idaho isn't what I expected.  Living only 30 minutes from the border with Idaho I expect it to look like where we live.  Mountains.  Trees.  That was wrong.  The northern parts of Idaho do look like that but as you go south, not so much.  I think there are more trees in Amarillo than there are between Boise and Twin Falls.  It is flat and brown.  You can see for very long distances.  I didn't appreciate when we set out that we would be so close to Nevada until we started seeing signs on businesses about serving "Southern Idaho and Northern Nevada".

Over 20 years ago David and I talked about the possibility of living in Twin Falls.  He was finishing school and we had agreed that it might be best for us to get out of Texas.  We had been through a difficult time in our marriage a few years before and we had just spent a little over a year getting him through school while I was the only one working.  We had 3 kids in a crappy 2 bedroom apartment.  They had little foam chairs that pulled out into mats they slept on all in one room with no other furniture.  Our mattress was sitting on the floor and we also had no other furniture.  Everything of value had been sold or pawned to get him through the last few months of school.  Now he was graduating 1st in his class and we were ready for a change.  He applied for a job in Twin Falls.

The job he ended up getting was within walking distance of that crappy apartment and for the next 20 years we stayed in Texas.  Worked and raised a family.  But we always talked about going north and west someday and now here we are living in Montana.  And I think it worked out the way it should.  But for the writer in me it is interesting to look at this town and to think how different things would have been if we had moved all of those years ago.  Especially for our kids whose whole lives would be different.

The bridge isn't hard to find, you have to drive right across it coming from Boise.

The I. B. Perrine Bridge has been here (under other names) since 1927.  When it was built, it was the highest bridge in the world.  

 This bridge spans the Snake River and somewhere in that near distance is a site where Evil Knievel crashed in 1974 after his parachute malfunctioned during a jump.

As soon as you cross the bridge there is a visitors center so we stop in to see what information they have about the area.  What we end up seeing are people working on packing parachutes.  It turns out this bridge is a very popular BASE jumping site.  David and I grab our cameras and go to find a good vantage point to watch from.

 

Checking to see if the coast is clear.  There are a lot of boats, kayaks and paddleboarders on the river.

 

Over the edge.

 

The first step is the hardest.  This guy did a flip on the way down.

 

The girl he was on the bridge with jumps next.  No fancy flips for her.

 

Chute's out.

 

The landing site.

You can sign up at the visitor center to try this in a tandem jump.  We don't for a few reasons.  David has a fear of falling.  I have a fear of looking like an idiot or them telling me I weigh too much.  But a big reason is it seems like a LOT of work for such as short experience.  The packing of the chute appeared to be a very time consuming activity and then getting on all of the gear and walking out on the bridge to wait for a good time to jump.  It was over in a few seconds.  Then they have to hike back up to the top of the bridge carrying all of this equipment.  It is a steep, difficult hike.  After crying during our hike on St. Mary's, where only David was around to see, I am not prepared for the possibility I could have that same experience here with all of these people watching (and taking photographs).

Plus, there is a falls to see.  Shoshone Falls is listed as "The Niagara of the West".  I have been to Niagara Falls so I am really anxious to compare.

 

It may be 45 feet higher than Niagara but in scope and grandness...not even close.

They have much of the flow dammed up when we are there but even if it was flowing over the whole of this area, as it apparently does at times, this would still pale in comparison to the real deal in New York and Canada.  Still, I am awed by most waterfalls and the park/visitor area here is very nice and there aren't a lot of people so it was definitely worth the side trip.

On the way back, I treat David to a burger since there is no Popeye's in Twin Falls.  When we walked in I almost walked right back out.  I thought we were in the wrong place.  I wasn't expecting this "restaurant" to be in a bar/pool hall.

 

It is a good thing we stayed.  The burger came with tots.  I know the way to my man's heart.  I just might not be able to get in there someday when his arteries clog up.

On the way back to Boise, I think about what it would have been like if we had lived in Twin Falls all these years.  I told David - during the part he was awake for - that we would have been okay there.  It's hard to say I am glad we didn't move here back then because we went through some very rough years when our kids were teenagers and maybe that would have turned out different.  Well, I know it would have.  But different isn't always better, there is always the possibility of different worse. 

What I really need to learn from this trip is that my expectations are often wrong - about people and about places - and that it doesn't matter what the people we would be in that alternate universe would be like.  After all, they don't exist.   And look at his face in that picture.  Who would want to miss out on this version of David?

The Anti-Foodie: Boise, ID

One evening when our friends Steven and Joanne were over for dinner, comments were being made about David's many food issues.  In an effort to semi-defend him I said, "He's just not a foodie".  Steven said, "Yes he is.  He would drive his motorcycle all the way to Boise just to eat at Popeye's Chicken."  And I immediately realized Steven was right.  David is a foodie.  A Crap Foodie!  Or as I now think of it, an Anti-Foodie, like the Anti-Christ only with food.  He stands for everything that is the opposite of what traditional foodies stand for.

In my mind foodies are interested in quality ingredients, whole, organic food and they are open to trying a lot of different things - squid and brains and quinoa.  For David, it is the opposite.  The Dollar Menu?  Absolutely.  Pesticides?  Bring them on.  And there is a long list of things he will not eat.  Like onions in any form, cooked or not.  Lettuce, forget it and if it even so much as touches anything he is going to eat, it is over.  Almost all vegetables are out of the question.  Strawberries or anything strawberry flavored.  He will eat spinach from a can but not raw or when I wilt it from scratch. He is more interested in Pop-Tarts and Spam.  Hot and Spicy Pork Rinds.  Frozen Pizza and Kraft Mac & Cheese.  Ranch Style Beans with cut up Earl Campbell's Hot Links is a staple when I am out of town.

And he WAS planning a trip to Boise.  He had brought it up more than a few times.  Boise happens to be the nearest city that has a Popeye's Chicken.  One of the main things he misses about living in the Dallas area is proximity to restaurants and in particular, fast food.  Popeye's is at the top of his list along with Jack-in-the-Box, Sonic and Whataburger, all places we do not have here.  To drive home how much he misses it...Boise is SEVEN  HOURS away.

So with his 50th birthday approaching and my general aversion to purchasing gifts for people who aren't lacking anything, I wanted to do something different.  I decided to drive him to Boise for chicken.  I started looking at what there is to do in Boise, as it is so far that we will have to stay overnight, and saw that The Zac Brown Band was going to be at the University there so I bought us tickets.  They also have an Escape Game.  I enjoyed that so much in Nashville and thought it would be right up his alley so I booked that too.

When I told him that for his birthday we were going to Boise and presented him with our travel itinerary and tickets (including the address for Popeye's), he was very excited we would be there more than one day.

 

I don't hear anything but David swears he hears angels singing.

He tells me before we leave that he plans to eat there 3 times.  Once on Friday night, the day we arrive, once on Saturday, before the Escape Game, and lunch on Sunday before we go home.  I inform him that I don't plan to eat there even one time but as it turned out, it didn't work out for either one of us.  We arrive in Boise and check in to our hotel and have just over an hour to get to the concert.  Popeye's is across town.  By the time we get there we really don't have time to go to a second place for me so, trying to be the good wife and considering this is his birthday trip, I suck it up and we go in.

David orders his favorite chicken strips.  He is almost giddy.  I try not to eat meat other than fish and fortunately they offer both shrimp and catfish.  However, I am weird about the possibility of food poisoning, something I have had multiple times, and it takes me a bit to weigh the options.  I go with the shrimp. Fingers crossed.

 

This photo is blurry because I am laughing.  Eating with David is a lot like eating with a small child.  He can watch me take food out of the oven or off the stove and put it on a plate and he will immediately try to eat it and burn his mouth.  Every. Time.

 

See?  It has been "SO LONG".  He couldn't wait.

My shrimp is terrible.  I ate about half only because my expectations for options at the concert are low.  In my mind, the first stages of imminent, unavoidable food poisoning have begun.  David ordered a 5 piece but they gave him 7.  He ate them all.  In the car on the way to the concert, he is regretting that decision.  "They were just so good," he says.  But he is miserable.  He's lucky I have Tums in my purse.

We never ate at Popeye's again.  He said the 7 pieces were the amount he might have expected to eat over the whole 3 days so he got it out of the way all at once.  We did make the pilgrimage to Sonic and Jack-in-the-Box, both for breakfast.  And we did find one other place he was quite happy with on a side trip, more on that next time. 

 

We Escaped at the Escape Game (with 30 seconds to spare in a 2 person team, something the worker said is very hard to do) and I thankfully escaped another trip to Popeye's.  Two wins in one day. 

If you are ever in the Salt Lake City airport Terminal B, you can swing by Popeye's.  Maybe you will see me there trying go soak up the smell for when I get home.  It's better than any perfume I could buy as far as David is concerned.  But soaking up the smell is all I will be doing.  I definitely won't be eating.  Even if you are buying.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial: Washington, DC

While purchasing gas, a couple of young teenage girls approached me asking if they could clean my already clean windshield for a donation.  They were collecting for a school trip in 2016 to Washington DC.  I gave her a $20 bill - the only cash I had.  Her eyes got really big so I assume that no one else was giving that kind of donation.  And I didn't make her clean the windshield. 

If I had known then when I know now, I might not have donated at all.

School groups were pervasive in DC.  Everywhere you go, there they are.  Observing them you know they are only there because 1) They can be so why not? 2) They get to stay in a hotel with their friends and without their parents 3) It provides an opportunity to hook up with someone, to goof off, act a fool and do all of the things teenagers do when they are away from constant supervision.  I know there are some exceptions but most of them do not care about the history of this country.

I know there are chaperones but let's be realistic...1 adult per 10 or more kids is not enough.  I know from experience.  When I was 15 my softball team went to Durant, OK for a tournament.  There were about 13-14 of us girls - all between 14-16 years old - and 3 adults.  We were traveling in 2 vans.  One of the vans had mechanical problems just south of the Texas/Oklahoma border.  Two of the adults had to go into a nearby town to get parts leaving all of us girls there with our coach Roy.  Someone, I don't remember who but certainly not me, convinced my friend Kim to moon the next person driving by.  So me and another girl stood between Kim and the coach and she did it.  The man stopped.  We went and hid in the van while Roy dealt with the irate man.  We also threw ice in the elevator at a hotel in Houston when the doors opened and then we ran away.  So again, I am not guessing.

Back in DC, they are everywhere and there are a lot of them around The Wall when we arrive.  The Wall was #1 on my list of things to see in DC.  I "know" someone listed on there.

 

Panel 12E, Line 18, first name on the line:  Thomas L Blackman.

Tommy was my mother's husband.  He was not my father and he died before I was born but he was a presence in the house I grew up in all the same.

Tommy was 21 when he died on November 4, 1966.  He and my mother had been married a short 15 months.  His son, my half brother, was 6 months old.  He was killed in a non-combat related fire, along with 7 other sailors, aboard the USS Franklin D Roosevelt "in South Asian Waters".  

I have been thinking about this time in my parent's lives more than usual and have been interviewing them about various details.  I always knew about Tommy.  My brother was never adopted by my father and he always carried the Blackman name.  I have seen Tommy's picture.  The flag from his coffin is still in my mother's house.  I have read the telegram they delivered when she was notified of his death and the one that was delivered to Tommy when his son was born.  I spent more than a few weekend days playing in Tommy's parents backyard so my brother could visit his grandparents and his cousins.  I attended Tommy's parents funerals when they died.  I have been to Tommy's grave more times than I can count.

I had never been to The Wall in DC.  I had been to a replica in Pensacola but the size isn't the same.  And maybe because I have been talking to mom about this more lately than I ever have before, it felt different.  My colleagues promised not to make fun of me if I cried and they even hung back and gave me a little space once we got there.  I told my mom I was going and she said, "touch his name for me" but I couldn't.  It is too high.

 

The Wall is higher in the middle and then tapers down to a few inches off the ground on either end.  Just like this boy who is taking a rubbing, someone would have had to sit on my shoulders to get to Tommy's name.  The park service said they have ladders they can get out during the day when it isn't crowded but I never had the opportunity to do that.

After being at the panel with Tommy's name for a little while, I walked down to the east end of the memorial and waited on my colleagues to catch up.  I am trying not to cry (at The Wall and also right now) but am failing (at both).  Two older teenage boys approach me and say, "What is this called again?"  I couldn't believe it.  There are signs all over the place that tell you what each thing is.  The Wall is right by the Lincoln Memorial, the World War II Memorial, the Washington Monument and the Korean War Memorial.  Apparently, reading isn't being taught in high school anymore.  Or maybe it is common sense they are missing.

But more than that it strikes me that this memorial means so little to them, nothing really, that they don't even know what it is.  They weren't born during Vietnam.  At their age if they had a relative on the wall it would be a grandfather or great uncle.  But this Wall means everything to some people, like my mother.  But maybe you don't understand why my mother's husband's name on here would have an impact on me at all when he wasn't my father.

For me, the hard reality is that other people come here and mourn the loss of a loved one, someone they miss every single day.  But in my case, if Tommy's name isn't on that wall, I would never have been born. That is very difficult to reconcile.  I cannot even imagine how horrible that time was for my mother.  Her high school sweetheart was taken from her.  The father of her child.  She was 18 years old  when he died.  But if she had never gone through that awful time, I would not exist.

I know she can't choose between two lives but I can't help but wonder if she could, what would she choose.  And mom, if you are reading this, I know there is no right answer.  But I still wonder.  How could she not want Tommy to live?  Knowing that if he did, I wouldn't.  My younger brother wouldn't.  Our children wouldn't.  

We have all heard someone say that they believe there is only one right person out there for them but I don't believe that.  I can't.  If I believed that what would that say about my mother's feelings for my dad?  Or for Tommy?  My mother and father met not quite a year after Tommy's death and were married soon after.  They are still married today.  I know my mother loves my father but I also know she loved Tommy.  Still does.  Always will.

I know there are others out there like me.  People who would not exist if war didn't exist.  What does that mean?  Does it mean anything at all?  It is still happening now, today, will likely always be happening.  The answer for me is yes, it means something.  Something I cannot adequately explain.

 

On this memorial alone there are 58,272 names.

My father went to Vietnam when my mother was pregnant with me.  Once again, I can't even imagine how my mother felt during that time (or my dad either).  For a second time, she is pregnant and the father of her child is called away to Vietnam.  The stress must have been nearly unbearable this second time.  

 

This statue of 3 soldiers (the other is behind these two, this is the best angle I could get for this photo because of the massive herd of teenagers standing around it) was created to honor those that came back.  People like my dad who returned when I was 2 months old.

These 3 soldiers face The Wall, I assume as a tribute to those that didn't return.  Like these 3 my dad always has and to this day continues to honor Tommy.  He even cleans his headstone whenever they visit the cemetery.

I am not sure I can ever fully have peace in the knowledge that for me to live, my mother, Tommy's parents and siblings and others that knew and loved him had to live through so much pain.  When Tommy's father died some of us walked down to Tommy's grave which is nearby and my older brother, Tommy's son, was standing there looking at the headstone.  Even though I had been there lots of times before it never really felt the way it did that day to watch him looking down at that stone knowing his father was down there.  Someone he has no memory of.  Maybe it is even harder to consider since my dad is one of my favorite people on this earth.

So I visited the wall to pay tribute to a man I never knew.  To think about what his name, and all of the others here, mean to me.  To all of us.  May his memory live on in those who loved and knew him and maybe even a little in some of us who never had the opportunity.

Rest in Peace

Thomas Lee Blackman

February 10, 1945-November 4, 1966