“My Capitol”

By

Gerry Niskern

“Be very quiet” my dad whispered as our family took their seats in the United States Senate visitors gallery in the U.S. Capitol.  The year was l940, summertime.

Our senators were debating about passing the Selective Service Act. It was a controversial time as many of their constituents were against drafting our young men, but everyone knew we would probably soon be drawn into the war in Europe.

We left the Capitol through a tunnel, riding in some kind of a small powered vehicle, compliments of one of our congressmen from West Virginia. I don’t remember the details on that ride, but I vividly remember the rest of that summer trip to Washington, D. C.

My parents were planning to move to Arizona the next year and I recall my dad saying, “The girls may never get back this way again in their lifetime and we need to see to it that they see our nations capitol.” Back in those days people didn’t travel as frequently as now. ( The added bonus for me was always being the only student in class in Arizona to raise their hand when the teacher asked, “Has anyone seen the U. S. Capitol?”)

Of course, the first icon we spotted as we approached the city was that sacred, beautiful building, the Capitol. The  building that sits higher then everything. We each had our favorite place in the city. My sister loved the Washington monument because we got to climb the stairs to the top.

Mom loved the Lincoln memorial. The statue of Lincoln sitting there was breathtaking. It invoked a feeling of reverence and also, peace. The Jefferson memorial was just being constructed and we viewed it from a distance across a body of water.

We saw the White House, but I don’t remember visiting the inside, although we did tour George Washington’s home, Mount Vernon. We also enjoyed the Smithsonian. My dad loved getting to see Charles Lindbergh’s plane, The Spirit of St. Louis, handing over our heads.

Dad also wanted to take mom to see the Senators play. She loved sports as much as him. They had never seen a major league game before.  My sister was 12 and I was nine and we were on our own while they attended the game. There was a beautiful park nearby, and I think a zoo where we spent the day on our own in that wonderful city.

We left the next day. As we drove away I watched thru the rear view mirror as my favorite, the Capitol  building, faded in the distance.

Now, ten days ago, all these many  years later, I watched in horror and grief as our country was violated. Acts of violence were committed by Americans in the same marble hallways where we had walked. The peaceful transfer of power was stopped by  rioters incited by lies and untruths spread by the President and his enablers.

There is much work to be done by every citizen. Through discussions and solutions we need to learn respect for one another’s beliefs. Because our Democracy Is strong, On January 20^th there will be a lawful transfer of power in front of the capitol; your capitol  and mine!

“NOT WORTH A PENNY!”

When I think of coins, for some reason, I think of pennies first. You know, the pesky little coin that weighs down your purse, fills up your car console and that you tell the cashier to just keep.

Our government is talking seriously again of doing away with the penny. I, for one, think it’s a great idea.

The first “ copper”  I remember was the one I clutched tightly in my sweaty hand as I leaned against the candy counter while my mother did her weekly grocery shopping. I agonized over the candy corn, Hershey kisses and marshmallow bananas. Then again, I loved to get a pack of candy cigarettes. The cigarettes were cloyingly sweet, but how sophisticated I would be taking long draws and puffing in the back seat on the way home. Maybe I’d even blow a few smoke rings.

Later, around aged ten, that coin became more important and a source of humiliation.  When I was sent to the store with a dime for a loaf of bread that cost ten cents and a penny tax that made the total eleven, I knew I was in trouble. I would tell my mother, “Mom, the lady always says eleven cents”. She would simply say “No, you tell her it’s a sin to tax the daily bread”. And then she usually added, “After all, right is right”. I begged for that penny so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by the A. J. Bayless clerk. But my mother instructed,   “Just say, I’m sorry, my mother didn’t give me a penny for tax”

Years later I boarded a city bus carrying my chubby daughter and a heavy grocery sack full of pennies. The slow walk up Central Avenue in heels (because you always wore high heels when you went downtown), lugging the pennies and dragging the one year old to the bank was not easy. I remember it was summer and she kept trying to walk behind me in my shadow which made for really slow going.  I hated those pennies.

Her grandparents had given her a penny piggy bank at birth and filled it up over the year. I doubt that many kids get very excited over piggy banks nowdays.

Since the banks were only open during the week, I was expected to take her and her fortune to open a savings account in her name. It was some kind of family tradition, I guess. Anyway, again I was doing what everyone expected me to do but I was not too impressed with this ritual.

When the bus swished to a stop for our trip home all I had to do was hoist the husky

little girl clutching her savings book up the steps and sink gratefully into a soft seat for the ride home.

I say, get rid of those pennies.

By

Gerry Niskern

She goes by every day, sometimes twice. She’s about three months old and travels by stroller, escorted sometimes by siblings on scooters.

If I’m lucky enough to be out at the time her mother stops for a minute and  I’m rewarded with a perfect angels smile punctuated by two big dimples. “Can I touch her?” I asked. Her little bare foot felt like the finest silk. She was plump and perfect, but wait! When she realized her chariot wasn’t moving the angelic face turned into a cry.

Her grin brightens my day, but then I started thinking about something. With everyone wearing a mask babies don’t realize that you are looking kindly or smiling at them. You see, everyone knows that babies experience love and delight thru facial expressions.  Many articles have been written about babies having issues with emotional recognition and social interaction. I hope my new little friend sees my eyes smiling at her.

But smiling eyes are not just important for the many new babies this year.We have a brand new year starting today and we can all help make it a more pleasant and optimistic one.

Sure we will all still be wearing our masks for quite a while longer, but let’s stop complaining and make sure the eyes that people see above are smiling eyes.

What’s in Your Treasury?

By

Gerry Niskern

Everyone is concerned that their Christmas won’t be good this year. They want to be with their closest loved ones and Covid 19 is keeping that from happening.

Yes, it is, but most people have a treasure trove of memories that they can dig down into. If they try hard, they can find bits and pieces of wonderful Christmases past. I think it can carry them thru this frustrating time, if they try.

I’ll share some of mine. How about you?

The snow flakes were hitting against the windshield and fanning out in swirling perfect circles. I had never seen them put on that  display before, but then I had never been allowed to sit up front between my mom and dad before either. You see, I had on a little green fairy costume instead of my warm snow suit so they decided I needed to sit up by them and the heater. We were on our way to  our little country school and I was going to be in the first grade Christmas program. The snow was coming down hard, but the show must go on! I’ll never forget those magical snowflakes!

Mom and dad both grew up in families that didn’t have the luxury of Santa Claus. My mother was one of thirteen children and Christmas in that Orthodox Catholic family consisted of church services in the morning AND the afternoon. The adults sat on benches on the front and the children stood  in the back. That was followed by a special Christmas dinner.

My dad’s mother raised eight children on her own and had no money for Santa either.

So when my sister and I came along, my parents loved going all out for our celebration. They put up a big tree after we went to bed and decorated  it then. We always thought Santa brought it! They made sure Santa left lot of presents under that tree too. One special memory that I recall was a small Cedar chest that my dad gave my mom, and it was filled with chocolates! Then he surprised each of us with a miniature version of Mom’s chest, full of chocolates too. Somehow, that gift, exactly like our mother’s made me feel very special, a good incentive for little girls.

The frozen snow always crunched like popcorn as we hurried up the sidewalk to the sagging, old kitchen porch at my grandma;s house. The sound of love and laughter pulled us in. Of course, we didn’t expect present at that Christmas on January 6^th, but there was something much better; a house full of cousins!

How about you? Can you dredge up some good times to carry you thru this year?

“For the win”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you ever woke up because you sensed that someone was staring at you? I opened my eyes to  a little pair of eyes staring down at me.

“Hey, Grandma Gerry. ‘member that game?” he whispered quietly. I looked at the clock. It was five A. M. and the sun wasn’t even up!

On that morning many years ago, that three year old  little grandson was anxious to play a board game that I had introduced to him the evening before.  I think it was called Hi Ho CherryO.

Games at Christmas; the most fun of all. Sure Video games are great,  but right now I’m thinking of all the games I would like to play with my three year old Great-Great Grandaughter. She’s the granddaughter of that little boy who woke me many years ago.

She lives in another town, but I know she would love Old Maid, Go Fish, Slap Jack, Crazy Eights, Chutes and Ladders, CandyLand and I could go on  and on. And she would be good at them too!

Sure, everyone says “Christmas is for the kids”, but I think it’s for the Grandparents too. I look forward to the time when dinner is over, all the presents have been opened and we can get down to the important business of the day; the game. A game that all ages can play together. Trivia, Smart Ass, and Guesstures (a version of Charades) are a few that our family loved

That grandson who woke me up years ago to play will get another game from me this year as usual and so will his little granddaughter..

What was your favorite Christmas present?

By

Gerry Niskern

Can you think of the favorite Christmas present that you received in your whole lifetime?

Of course, all of Santa’s surprises were wonderful when you were a kid. I remember rushing down on Christmas morning and finding toys under the tree. Nothing was wrapped. They were just there, right where Santa dropped them!

Then as I got older I became more aware of the true spirit of giving gifts to loved ones at Christmas. In my teens I couldn’t wait  to exchange gifts with my girl/boy friends. Then it happened. That special boy gave me a small beautifully wrapped package. Inside was heart shaped locket made of gold and embellished with rose gold. It opened, and inside on either side was a space for two tiny photos.

Years later, at Christmas, my new groom, the Locket Guy, brought a large box home. He shut the bedroom door and tried to quietly wrap the contents of the box. When I heard something clanging and banging on the hardwood floor, I immediately thought, “If he bought me a vacuum cleaner, like some HOUSEWIFE, I’ll kill him!”

On Christmas morning, when  I opened his gift to me I  found a tiny FeatherWeight sewing machine. I loved it.

Other totally surprising and thoughtful gifts come to mind. : a beautiful silver coffee/tea set for my ladies group meetings, a luxurious Aqua blue gown and robe that he let the kids pick out on their own, Best of all, right after baby number three was born he brought home the latest kitchen item, a portable dishwasher. This tired young mother felt like she had a maid!

Years later, when they first came out, he surprised me with a microwave. I was not happy! I had read too many stories by all the skeptics that they were dangerous and could cause all kinds of health problems. Now, think about it.  What would we do without our Microwaves?

Finally, he settled into the tradition of a generous gift card from Barnes and Noble that warmed the heart of this “Book Worm” wife.

So, what was your favorite Christmas gift that you ever received? If I had to choose, I know that I will always treasure the gold heart locket with our tiny  photos inside, but I think  the portable dishwasher won, hands down!

Is it worthwhile?

By

Gerry Niskern

“There’ll be blue birds over, the white cliffs of Dover,

Tomorrow, when the world is free.”

That’s the song that pops into my mind every time I hear someone complaining about wearing a mask during this terrible pandemic. I was a child during WWll and we sang that song a lot while we collected scrap metal and old tires to be converted  for the war effort. We saved our pennies and bought savings stamps to paste into a book to help us exchange  it later for a War Bond.

Our mothers saved their fat drippings in jars and turned them in to help make explosives for the war. Everything was rationed. Ration books were issued to each family to allow us to buy shoes, gasoline, meat, and sugar. There was absolutely no candy for kids to buy.

We stood in line  at the grocery every Saturday morning, waiting for our mothers to come later and take our place and be first at the meat counter. Meat came in once a week and if she was lucky she could get a roast and maybe some bacon.

Besides all the creature comforts and essentials we gave up, many gave up sons, brothers and fathers.

Very few of the 330 milllion Americans living through Covid-19 can remember the time when the country was asked to make sacrifices for the greater good of their fellow citizens. The people of the United States made those sacrifices willingly to preserve our freedom back then and they made a history to be proud of. The personal freedom that people refer to defiantly when refusing to wear a mask was won many years ago.  and now needs to be achieved by beating this Covid-19.

Sure, today we have been asked to put our lives on pause in a number of ways. We’ve been on this journey for ten months now. We have been asked to wear masks, social distance and avoid large gatherings. It’s not much to ask.

All of those things we give up are not leaving the planet! They will all be here next year. Birthdays, weddings, graduations, Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas parties will take place again.  Remind the people you hear complaining that we are in for the fight of our lives and we can make history again.

Maybe what we need this time is another song.

“There’ll be love and laughter, and peace ever after, tomorrow when the world is free”

“Visiting My Dishes”

By

Gerry Niskern

I had lunch at my bachelor son’s house the other and had a pleasant surprise when he served it on my dishes. Like all families we passed dishes on to the kids when they got their own place.

I started thinking about it, and really I started passing what I’ll call “Family Heirlooms” a long time ago. It was fun to see family members using them. Why wait until  I was gone? A long time ago I decided I wanted to know who would cherish and actually use treasured items of mine.

At a family birthday party last year it was a pleasure to watch my granddaughter serve the cake on my dessert plates, while the cake crowned my cake stand. The best thing about giving this granddaughter heirlooms is that she treasures old things and her daughter will learn to also.

The handmade quilt that I had as a child and actually had helped poke the needles up thru from under the quilting frame while my mother and her friends worked on it, will be in good hands. The story that goes with it will be passed along. The stories are valued as much as the items.

My other granddaughter lives in Alaska so it is a little harder to add to her household, but I did manage to carefully wrap and send an exquisite glass plate that my grandmother brought with her when she came to America in the l880’s. A difficult feat when you are traveling Steerage. I treasured it and I know she will too. It was her great great grandmothers!

A small unique Cedar chest is waiting at my great grandsons house for his daughter, with its sweet, scripted story inside.

Families have always passed down dishes, crystal, jewelry, furniture. It’s a wonderful tradition. And the best part is it doesn’t matter what your financial circumstances are, you always have the ability to give something you loved to someone younger and then sit back and watch them enjoy it.

When I was sixteen and visiting my Aunt Ann she insisted on giving me one of her ceramic serving bowls. At the time I really wasn’t interested in having it, but now it is one of my cherished possessions. When I see it I think of the good times we had in her house.

Start passing along some of your treasures. L promise it will bring you happiness

I haven’t posted a blog for a while. I couldn’t  really compete with the interesting and important writing taking place.

We had an election!

Many wise scribes wrote about the work that had to be done to reunite our country. Sure there are important issues for our new government to work on: building new alliances here and abroad.

But getting down to the nitty-gritty of what everyday citizens can do to build peace and harmony, it all starts at home. Sometimes we all don’t realize the smallest words or actions are repeated by our children and grandchildren.

Try this little exercise in communication to relax boundaries and bring everyone into the same fold, free from discrimination  and prejudice. When someone asks if you have a cleaning lady, say “yes, her name is (fill in the blank), instead of saying,

“yes, I have a Mexican/”

Instead of saying,”I’m going over to Home Depot to get a Mexican to do the yard, How about announcing, “I’m going over to hire a guy at Home Depot to help me?

It’s easy to drop the descriptive ethnic title and just call them “my friend”. Try it. And remember the young ones are listening and will imitate your actiions. Before you know it some of those new “friends” may actually become friends.

I’m sure, like me, you all have had many friends in your lifetime. They come in all ages, shapes, and sizes. A friend is a person you meet who likes you for what you are, not what you have done. Somehow, they see beneath your outside shell to the real you. And they like you anyway!

Let’s start building a community of friends who have no other descriptive title except “Friend”.

TEN DAYS AND COUNTING

By

Gerry Niskern

I remember interviewing this lady from Glendale when I was writing my
On this corner” series for the Republic about old landmarks around the valley.

Mary White Renner, age 83, is a lifetime resident of Glendale. Although Renner has traveled to many countries over the years, she values the wonderful memories of growing up in a small town. ”

The one location that Renner fondly called the “heart” of the community was Murphy Park, on Glendale Ave.  “The only structure in the park was the gazebo. When an election was coming up, the political rallies were held there. To us, this was a big event. Everybody knew everyone. The band was playing and families from all around the area brought blankets and spread out their picnics on the grass. The adults gathered around the gazebo, festooned in red, white and blue and listened to the opposing speakers, while we kids played. I remember it was a amiable atmosphere, no rancor or feeling of neighbor against neighbor.”

That gazebo is gone now.

So is the democratic spirit our country has always tried to maintain during elections, big and small. The kids today have heard all kinds of accusations and name calling. What they haven’t heard about is Syria, human rights, drones, inequality, the WHO, NATO, the United Nations. Little was said about the millions of displaced persons living in squalid camps for years. Our important alliances that work with us to try to solve the world’s most urgent problems was rarely mentioned.

Sure, we wll  all be relieved when the election is over, however long it takes. But we need to be thinking now about healing the spirit of our communities; getting together with that friend or neighbor who maybe didn’t lean the same way as you politically. Reach out to renew old friendships that have become frayed by the winds of angry rhetoric.

Maybe that old gazebo is gone now, but hopefully that spirit of democracy is still out there waiting to be recaptured.