Be Nice
By
Gerry Niskern
“Be nice!” my mother admonished me when I was growing up, every time I complained about an elderly, crabby neighbor. “But what if they are not nice to me?” I complained. “That doesn’t matter. Old people have a hard life. Always be good to them!”
Those words of my mothers are beginning to come back to me like “bread cast upon the waters.” Due to a balance problem, I’ve started using a cane once in a while when I’m going to an unfamiliar walking area. And I don’t know why but I’m constantly amazed at the kindness of people.
I’ll be slowly making my way up to the door of a building and realize someone is standing there holding the door for me with a warm smile. Or I’ll go to pull out a shopping cart at a store and someone goes ahead and offers me one. Those sweet gestures catch me by surprise and that unexpected kindness is a ray of warmth that touches everyone.
Much has been written about the rude, inconsiderate people in the public these days. I’ve been pretty vocal myself. I hate the sense of disconnect in today’s world where most don’t feel the need to know their neighbors or even speak to another person in a waiting area. I think we can all agree that technology has definitely changed our lives. Companionship comes from all our electronic devices now.
So, this cane that I use for balance has taught me that there are indeed a lot of caring people in our world. Their small gestures of compassion are happening everyday.
You know, I don’t even mind the occasional “triage” consultation that happens in parking lots when someone stops me and says, “Oh, is it your back? Or your foot?” And then proceeds to tell me of their current physical problem. I learn about a great cream for sore joints or best orthopedic doctor in town while cars are zipping around us.
It has renewed my faith in humanity and I’m reminded that “kindness is a gift that keeps on giving.”
I think many mothers in years past must have had the same mantra that mine did!

I Never Looked Back
By
Gerry Niskern
(authors note: Our doctor used to say that measles are “in the air” in the spring.I’m reminded of one springtime our family had.)
When my daughter Kathy started kindergarten I envisioned her bringing home lots of interesting things to show me and her little brothers. I was happy for her. It was going to be a great year.
Well, She brought things home all right. The first thing was Chicken Pox. She gave it to her little three year old brother Mark. Three weeks later the baby broke out. Kathy and Matthew, the baby, only had a few pox, but Mark, the three year old, was totally covered. He became so sick with a high fever that we rushed him to St. Joes emergency one night and the ER doctor said “ when kids get this covered they have as many inside as outside!” Baby aspirin and trips to the doctor became our new lifestyle.
Next Kathy came home with Rubella, the light measles. The brothers caught it several days apart. Just as the first child was feeling better, the second one would come down. And so it went, week after week.
Later around Christmas time we took time off from our schedule of having all the childhood diseases to fit in the Asian Flu. In l957 the Asian flu emerged, triggering a pandemic. The whole family had that; me and Ken too. By that time I hadn’t slept for months, at least it seemed that way. Their daddy was trying to help, but still had to get to work every day.
Everybody, baby included, finished up with a case of strep throat in time to celebrate Easter. We had the usual Easter egg hunt at the crack of dawn in our yard to see what the Bunny had brought, then church, and afterward a visit to one set of grandparents for lunch. Of course, later we were expected for the rest of the day at the other grandparents.
I had developed at touch of Bronchitis and suddenly that holiday evening I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I started to panic and hyperventilate and managed to partially paralyze myself. Ken rushed me down to Good Sam and they called our family doctor who had been our constant companion thru that winter; so wouldn’t he want to join us on Easter too?
The nurses got me calmed down and when the doctor arrived I kept saying over and over to him, “tell them what’s been happening”.
He took one look at me and said “ Get her a private room.” Then he turned to Ken and said,
“She’s staying here for a while and getting some rest. Don’t let anyone know she is here, except her mother.”
I stayed five days in a blissful blanket of quiet and did nothing but sleep and breathe in the healing mist from a huge vaporizer . When Dr. Craig came to sign me out I remember him muttering to himself a he filled out the chart, “Lets see. How can I word this so the guys in the ivory tower will cover it?”
When my frazzled young husband came to take me home that morning he said, laughing, “ I’ve got to tell you this. When I was trying to talk to Kathy and Mark about you, and explaining that they should try to not aggravate you, Mark said, “But daddy, she’s the mom and if we want to aggravate her, we can aggravate her.”
I got home just in time for Kathy’s next big surprise. I noticed her jawline looking strange. As time went by I realized she was swelling up with the mumps. And of course, right on schedule, a week or so later Mark started swelling and then Matthew the baby. More sleepless nights with high fevers and lots of baby aspirin all around.
Bit the fevers weren’t going down. Guess what. The hard red measles had joined the mix. More days and nights of very sick kids.
Then one day as I was giving my very busy mother a “triage” report I mentioned that everyone’s fever was gone and they all seemed okay; just a little funny looking with swollen, rash covered faces.
I received a surprise call from Mom the next morning, a Friday. “Pack a suitcase. I’m coming over this afternoon and when Ken gets home you two take off and don’t come back till Sunday evening. The kids will be fine with me”.
When she arrived I “hit the door running” and never looked back.

My first Drivers License
By
Gerry Niskern

I just took my car to emission testing the other day and it reminded me of the time I got my driver’s license, years ago.

“I’m not having another baby until I learn how to drive” I declared as I heaved my whale sized body out of the car, slammed the door and lumbered up the walk to the door of my Ob’s office. I hated having to wait for someone to take me places. I wanted my own wheels!

The following summer, while my young husband, Ken, was at Arizona National Guard camp I stayed with my folks. Every evening mom took care of my baby, while my dad took up the role of my driving instructor. We went to a huge insurance company’s parking lot and I drove, round and round and round. I shifted from first, to second, and over to third, over and over and over.

“Press the gas gently, and slowly let off the clutch”, my dad patiently repeated the words, again and again. His old green Chevy truck bucked and choked, lurching forward by frantic leaps and bounds, like a rodeo bronco I eventually got the hang of it and just as I was congratulating my self, thinking, “There’s nothing to this driving business” my dad commented, “Now tomorrow, we start practicing parallel parking.”

“You mean, between two cars?” I gasped. “Yes.” He laughed. “That’s what you usually park between. You won’t get your drivers license unless you can parallel park to the officer’s satisfaction.” “Well, there goes my dream of my own wheels.” I sighed.

After a couple more weeks of practicing parallel parking, Ken drove me over to the MVD, and waited in our brand new black Ford two door sports sedan. I was petrified. I knew I couldn’t do it. I took the written test with no mistakes. But I couldn’t feel happy because I was instructed to report to the driving test officer.

My feet were dragging with dread when I started out the door. Then I saw a crowd around our car. A distraught young woman was crying as an officer was writing out her first driving ticket! It seems she had started to pull out with the officer for her driving test and had managed to take off our brand new left rear fender. Seeing the distress all around, the officer said that after we exchanged insurance information I was free to go. He initialed my test form and said “It’s okay, young lady. You don’t have to take the driving test. You passed!”

“Do You Have Any Green Stamps?”
By
Gerry Niskern

Every day we all read about the turmoil at Disney World. According to a recent column by Ross Douthat in the New York times, the Magic Kingdom of family fun is still a great experience for the family. Granted it has become much more expensive and the lines are longer every year. When I hear once again about Florida’s battle with Walt’s World I’m reminded of our trips to Disneyland in California years ago. I’m glad we had the experience of enjoying Walt Disney’s” dream” with our kids and later on, grandkids. Please enjoy an essay I wrote about our trips.

The other day someone asked, “Do you remember S & H green stamps? Of course, I remember.
The first thing that comes to mind is Disneyland, but I’ll get back to that later.
Way back when I was a kid, and the earth was still cooling, my mother saved green stamps. The Sperry and Hutchinson company gave out the green stamps in partnerships with many supermarkets, gas stations and department stores.
The stamps were rewarded with the purchase from a business and based on the dollar amount of the purchase. Some stores enticed people in with double stamp days. The stamps were pasted into collector books that could be redeemed for valuable items from their catalogue or an S & H store.
One summer our family of five and my sisters family of five went to the Magic Kingdom entirely free. It took 39 books of stamps for each of our families to exchange for certificates that entitled each one a deluxe 15 ride package. We had saved for months and our mother chipped in to help out. We were still there at midnight for the fireworks when Tinkerbell flew across the sky and tripped the display. Our kids, all grade school age, had the time of their lives.
Of course, I have to admit, my first trip to Disneyland was sans kids. We hired a sitter and headed to San Diego one summer. “Let’s drive up to Orange County and look around,” my scheming husband suggested one morning. When we reached Anaheim he said, “Oh, look over there, at that little mountain. Do you think that is the Matterhorn at Disneyland?” When I responded, well, maybe it is!
Then as he intended all along, we spent a day at the Magic Kingdom. It was great.
The next summer, we took our two, five and seven year old. They loved it, but they made sure that every place we ate they told the waitress that they were going to Disneyland and with sad faces added, “They went last year without us!”
Of course, now you have to take out a small loan to make the trip to Walt’s World. There was a lot of satisfaction back when a whole family could have the adventure of a lifetime free; all on S & H Green Stamps.