Labor of Love

Gerry Niskern
I met this immigrant family several years ago. The man came up to talk with Ken about some hauling from our do-it-yourself home renovation he needed done. The young Hispanic husband brought his wife with him. We visited while the men talked. She understood me, but was hesitant and shy trying to answer me in English. We did just fine by sharing photos of our children and a little sign language.
A few weeks later when my husband was knocked many feet down to the driveway floor by a collapsing load of dry wall one evening, my son called from the hospital and asked out new friend to come early in the morning and haul away the dry wall reminder of the fatal accident. He came before dawn removed every trace and later would not accept any payment.
One day after doing some landscaping for me, I asked if he would have time to take my trash cans down my steep driveway every week, he said he didn’t, but maybe his middle school daughter would like the job. The Honor Academy student did the job for me and continued to do so throughout her four years at GCU that she was attending on a full scholastic scholarship .
When I moved to another house, I hired him to spray for scorpions before I moved in. He saw my garage full of moving boxes and he and his wife stood in my hot garage and broke them down one afternoon; again refusing payment. One holiday season I asked the woman if she had time in her cleaning schedule to just clean my bathroom. She did and would not give me a charge, just kept saying, “Merry Christmas”.
When I first met the young immigrant family I remember trying to give their other daughter, who was a five years old some money when I was paying her daddy for landscaping. She refused to take it. She said, “They don’t want me to take it.” This immigrant couple were hard to define but easily explained in terms of generosity. They both worked hard for their money and wanted their two daughters to learn their values. They invited me to their little daughter’s birthday party. I remember sending the toddler a birthday card and learned how thrilled she was to actually receive something ,for the first time, from the mailman. When that little girl was in middle school at the Honor Academy also, she helped me learn to use my IPad! I asked her to pick my orange tree and after she had a mound of bags full of oranges, I looked out to see her dad up on a tall ladder finishing up the top. I was only allowed to pay the daughter.
I don’t know when they came to the U.S.A. and I don’t care. I always thought of my own immigrant grandparents who came here to work for a better life for their family. This Hispanic family labored hard for their money, but insisted on no compensation for doing small things I asked; for those they gave me friendship!

“Have you been to a Drive-in Movie lately?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Fall weather is coming and it’s time: Drive in movie time! I can hear some of you Millennials asking, “Drive in Movie….what is that?”
Years ago, before air conditioning, TV, electronic games and computers, drive-ins were a great place to take the family on a balmy weekend evening. In l958, there were 49 outdoor drive-ins in Arizona and now might be one. It’s debatable.
Land proved to be too valuable to the owners and the developers around the valley. So the drive-ins disappeared, one by one.
In the l950’s the Northern Drive-in was going strong. They charged per person rather than per car like some drive-ins. Of course, that meant that a teen driver had to have his buddies and their girl friends hide on the floor of the car until they got through the gate. No one was going to pay for each passenger if they didn’t have to!
When we were raising our family the Indian Drive-in was a great place to see a movie, We didn’t have to spend hours on the phone trying to hire a baby sitter just so we could see a movie. It was located at 4141 N. 27th Ave. near the northeastern corner of 27th Avenue and Indian School road. Burger King and a Motel 6 stand there now.
Once inside, there was always the period of adjustment where you tried to get the right tilt of the car to see the screen to everyone’s satisfaction. After that was settled, the kids wanted to head straight to the playground. Most drive-ins had a playground with equipment to keep the munchkins happy until the movie started. Of Course, the trip back to the car went right by the snack bar.
Most kids arrived in their pajamas because their mothers were counting on them to conk out soon after the first feature started. (There were always two features shown). If you wished, you could lie on the hood of your car or sit out in lawn chairs and enjoy the cool air. (Yes, there was cool air in the evenings.)
When I think about it, my kid’s daddy wasn’t real crazy about drive-ins. At least once during every excursion he would declare, “This family doesn’t come to watch the movies, we come to demolish the car!” That proclamation was usually made after the knobs were off the window cranks, the wind-wing windows were no longer working and the visors were askew.
Actually, there was one reason he chose the Indian Drive-in over the others. Diagonally across 27th Avenue and Indian School Road was the Air Haven Airport. That airport had two unpaved runways. He enjoyed watching the light planes dropping in just a few feet above the huge movie screen as they descended into Air Haven.
A trip to the drive-in movie during this time of year was best of all, monsoon season. The lightening show crackling above and behind the giant screen gave you two shows at once.

“Are They Really Ready for School?”

by

Gerry Niskern

I’m sure you’ve seen them. Who could miss the must have for school lists in magazines and newspapers?
According to the experts, the young ladies need the new see through backpacks for their books. The kind with wheels would be even better. And remember their jean jackets don’t have the stone washed look this year, but anything with a Taylor Swift logo works.!
Speaking of clothes, the boys favor the cargo pants, with at least fifteen pockets, including one across the rear. The shirts must be a popular brand their crowd is wearing, and get ready to dig deep for a pair of the latest in footwear.
Of course, you could have one of those kids who waits to see what everyone else is wearing. Then you and the child are hitting the mall in the evening during the first week of school when she should be home hitting the books.
Dressing like your peer group in school has always been important to a student. I remember when new kids came to Phoenix Union High. If a young man from back east showed up in shirt, tie and dress slacks, you can bet he came back the next morning in Levis and the mandatory white tee shirt. Eastern girls came in nylons the first day, but wore bobby sox from then on.
The basic school supplies were pretty much the same between east and west. Now the choices are mind-boggling. If you are picking up a Nike binder for your child, you should know if the instructor requires the contoured, zippered or ensemble style. Of course, iPads are a must and don’t forget how handy a pager and cell phone can be. Your student needs a new cordless mouse for his computer and separate phone line, for research, of course!
. The other day I saw, among some school supplies, a key ring displaying the temperature, time and it even had an alarm. I guessed the alarm was to wake you up when math class was over. The first-graders weren’t neglected. They can find personalized pencils in sets of four with a choice of over 200 names.

Kind of makes you yearn for the days when getting ready for school involved a simple trip to the corner grocery for a Big Chief tablet and a #2 pencil, doesn’t it? And remember the lunch pails? I had a pretty orange one with my name scratched out in block letters across the lid by my dad.
Ken used to say that all he ever had was a paper sack for carrying his fried egg sandwich.

Phoenix High Rise Collapses
By
Gerry Niskern
A high rise with high occupancy fell to the ground this week. There is no possibility of rebuilding. Several birds were raising families in nests down in the many holes in the giant Saguaro cactus that graced my front yard.
The majestic tall Saguaro grew to over 20 feet in this yard for over fifty years. I don’t really know how old she was. She looked down on other smaller Saguaros, a wonderful Organ Pipe, and some smaller barrels.
In the Spring her top was adorned with a crown of creamy white blossoms. (Did you know the Saguaro blossom Is our state flower?) All the birds loved to eat the blossoms and the bees liked the nector. Many of the occupants inside the holes in her pale green form were Cactus Wrens. (Did you know the Cactus Wren is the official state bird of Arizona?)
Lots of old friends who walk by on nice evenings, made a point to come on this hot day to ask “what happened”. They were really sad to see a familiar landmark on our street meet her end. During most of the year I sit out side in the evening and watch the mother birds flying back and forth to the various holes feeding their young. I could hear their little squeaks and see tiny heads popping into view sometimes.
I will miss her and so will all her tenants!