Mom thinks that I complain too much. That really isn’t true.

I’m happy with a lot of things, if you want my point of view.

She said if I was seated upon a pot of gold

It would take me just a minute to find the pot too cold.

I’ll give you one example, though I have quite a few,

I’ve always told my Mother I hate her homemade stew.

Tonight I had a bowl full, and I ate every drop.

I didn’t even tell Mom her recipe’s a flop.

She said it was Bonna’s stew, as I tried to get it down.

I said,” Well that explains it. It’s been all over town.”

Bonna, Kitty, Elna, and Mom make casseroles galore

They’re the food swap ladies like you’ve never seen before.

We all sit at our tables and stare at empty plates.

My brother runs the food around while everybody waits.

Will we have Mom’s beans tonight with Kitty’s southern cornbread?

Or  Elna’s tuna noodle dish that her kids have all been fed?

The food swap ladies method works , with just one small exception

One they didn’t think about upon the plan’s conception.

When Billy walks through the door with his heavy sack,

We’ve said a prayer Mom doesn’t get her own leftovers back!

 

 

 

 

I apologize that my stories have come at odd times the last couple of days. It’s my plan to post Murdo Girl between 7 and 9 each evening, beginning Saturday. I have really enjoyed writing about my Murdo memories. I hope you’re getting a smile or two as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I dream about the cabin. When I’m awake it’s now past tense.

I seek to make it come alive in a way that still makes sense.

I’ll remember how my heart felt, when Grandpa’s car topped that last hill.

The days that loomed before me would be safe, and sane, and still.

I will think about togetherness and all the fun we had.

When we lost the stringer with the fish, Grandpa never did get mad.

My stomach started growling, I wished I hadn’t seen ’em

I think Grandpa’s got a secret. He didn’t want to clean them.

I looked to see what Grandma thought, what food would we prepare?

I looked into her smiling eyes, and could see she didn’t care.

We packed up in a hurry. Together we’re a team.

We headed for the cabin, boy I really like this dream.

Right then I heard,” Wake up Mary,” I wanted to say hush.

Cause we were cozy in the cabin, cooking cornmeal  mush.

I snoozed for 5 more minutes, I had dreamed most of my wishes.

I woke up just as it was time to do the dirty dishes.

They say that most dreams don’t come true, they’re only for pretending.

They don’t know I lived that dream, with its syrupy happy ending.

 

The following is an excerpt from an exclusive interview with retiring Jones County High School teacher, Margie Peters.

This exclusive interview did in fact take place. Even if it didn’t, it’s all true.

Yram Sicnarf: Good morning Margie. May I call you Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters: Whatever floats your boat.

Yram Sicnarf: Let me introduce myself. My name is Yram Sicnarf and I’m an award-winning reporter out of Gun Barrel City, Texas. Please call me Yram.

Mrs. Peters: Gun Barrel City?

Yram: Yes, it’s a little town, South of Riffle Butt, and East of Slingshot, but that’s all you need to know… Mrs. Peters, out of the thousands of students who have excelled under your tutelage, is there any one particular student, who because of your influence, has risen to greater heights than those less fortunate?

Mrs. Peters: Oh, my goodness Miss Sicnarf from Gun Barrel, that’s really a loaded question. (No pun intended.) I hate to single out any one student, but I will say the whole town is extremely proud of Senator John Thune. I’m sure you must have heard of him.

Yram: Yes, yes, I’ve seen the sign. Maybe it would help if we narrowed it down a little. Let’s say the class of 1970. To tunnel down even further, think female!

Mrs. Peters: Well yes, that certainly narrows it down doesn’t it? Hmm, let me think…

The sound of crickets

Yram: I recently interviewed a stunningly talented young lady who was very complimentary of your influence. She goes by …Murdo Girl.

More crickets

Yram: Yes, Murdo Girl idolized you. She told me she credits you with the success of every one of her careers.

Mrs. Peters: Careers? You mean she’s had more than one?

Yram: Mrs. Peters, we’re here to talk about you. As an aside, Murdo Girl told me that she has never forgotten you…well there was that one time she used your name as a password prompt. The question was, “Who was your favorite teacher?” She had a momentary brain freeze and forgot. It all came back to her when she remembered how you had tricked her in speech class.

Mrs. Peters: Excuse me?

Yram: Yes the topic for the impromptu speech was, “What is an educated woman?”

Mrs. Peters: Ah yes, it’s all coming back to me. I was trying to prompt my students to be more creative. You know, think on their feet. I recall a young woman struggling. She talked about school and college, blah, blah, blah.

Yram: So you admit to setting her up?

Mrs Peters: On the contrary Miss Sicnarf. I hope it was a valuable learning experience for her. An educated woman is a great deal more than…

Yram: I hate to interrupt Mrs. Peters, but I have an interview in a few minutes with the Senator’s father, Mr. Thune. Let’s wrap it up with this question. Do you really feel it’s important to know how to diagram sentences? I mean, how many times is an employer going to ask you to diagram a sentence?

Mrs. Peters: I can’t believe you just asked me that. I’m sure this Miss Murdo Girl you speak of, has to know the importance of using proper grammar. Knowing how to write and speak properly is part of being an educated woman. Knowing how a sentence is structured teaches the correct usage of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs. Some are unable to snag a good job because they don’t know a conjugated verb when they see one. I notice you always use first person.

Yram: I see…Does it help to use a lot of pictures? Never mind. I’m off to see Mr. Thune. Miss Murdo Girl has never had to use Algebra either.

Mrs. Peters: It’s very nice to have met you Miss Sicnarf. Don’t you want to take a picture before you go? I would suggest you take several.

I don’t see the sign. Do you see the sign?

“Oh here’s for Murdo Coyotes, they’re bound to win .(fight fight fight).(blank) like a stone wall, guards and forwards, all around to win for Murdo..let us cheer them forward, never give in.( fight, fight, fight).(blank, blank) for victory for we shall win.

I don’t want to write too many stories about cheerleading, but I have a couple of comments and a question about our school song. First of all, I wish we had a song with some pep to it. Secondly, it’s a weird song to sing at a football game, because it’s all about guards and forwards. Maybe I don’t like it because I don’t know all the words. Would someone please fill in the blanks for me.

I know I should be embarrassed and I am.

Before and After…You Go Queen, but next time ditch your crown for a helmet!!

The following Murdo Coyote discussion with Bob Brewer took place in 1964

Next, I want to talk about the Murdo Coyote. Remember last summer when I went out to California? Well, one of Billy’s roommates Bob, who’s not from Murdo, started talking about The Murdo Coyote. He said, “Look, they call people Finks right in the newspaper.” I said, “They’re not calling them a name. That is their name.” You know the Lindquist girls? Their Mom is a Fink. Ronni Poppe is a Fink too. They have another sister Norma, who’s a Fink, and I believe there is one Fink brother. (Norma is a real hoot.) Anyway, I told Bob that there is a bunch of Finks and they’re all really nice people. I don’t think I ever did get him to understand. He’s a ratfink.

Next he said, “The Coyote is always saying someone motored somewhere. Why don’t they say, they drove?”

“What’s wrong with motored? Instead of saying the same old drove word that everybody else uses, they say motored .”

The last thing I listened to him talk about was regarding the paper not always giving the last names. He showed me an example. “Mable and May motored to Pierre, and got their hair done, after which, they stopped and had coffee. A good time was had by all.” He wanted to know what they put in the paper if “all” didn’t have a good time?

I told him he was just being difficult. Everyone knows who Mable and May are, and I’m pretty sure they always have a good time when they go to Pierre.”  I didn’t say this to Bob, but I hope Mable meant to put the part in the paper about getting her hair done in Pierre. If the beauty shop operators in Murdo read that, it could start a real fuss.

Further more, It would be as bad as when Mom and Kitty went to Rapid City to take Kitty to the doctor, and Doctor Murphy’s wife Florence decided to go with them. They didn’t want Doc and Florence to feel bad, so they went through all kinds of stuff so she wouldn’t find out Kitty was cheating with another doctor . It would have been a disaster if that would have hit the Murdo Coyote.

A good time would not have been had by all.

I know something else that’s newsworthy, but certain people might not want it in The Murdo Coyote. Last Halloween night, (blank), who is a boy in the grade ahead of me, went to the Ford Garage in Murdo and let the air out of all the tires. He walked home and went to bed. He started feeling guilty, so he got out of bed and went back to the Ford Garage and started airing the tires all up again. That’s when he got caught.

The lady said I have to write 1000 words, but if you read the whole article from The Murdo Coyote about Judy Dykstra’s Mom giving a report on Africa to the ladies at the Progressive Study Club, I’ll have way more than 1000 words; besides, it’s very interesting.

Don’t miss the second write up below the Africa report.

Congratulations to Larry Weigandt, and Warren Broecher, for being named to the Southern State College marching band. I hope Judy Dykstra reads this. She won’t feel so bad that Larry kept beating her out of first chair.

**Billy told me Bob Brewer never misses an edition of The Murdo Coyote, and he reads it front to back!

I’m just going to warn you, that from now on, the Murdo Girl stories will be nonlinear. It depends on what she remembers. It will however, have taken place in her lifetime. The photos will be random too. it’s possible they won’t have anything to do with the story. Are you ready?

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Mom and I were filling the pop machine at the Motel this morning and two of Gertie Smith’s kids came over. (They live in a house that’s real close to #10.) They usually show up when we’re filling the machine because sometimes Mom gives them a free pop. Mom calls Sandy, probly I’ll have grape, because that’s what she always says. I spelled probably the way Sandy says it. Anyway, probly I’ll have grape, brought her older brother Danny with her today. He had some very bad news. He said, “Did you hear they shot Leonard King?” Mom and I both stood there with our mouths hanging open. Danny didn’t know who shot him, but apparently the shot was fatal. For those of you who don’t know Leonard King, he used to be our sheriff.

Well, Mom got right on the phone trying to get the scoop. I’ll bet half the town thought Leonard King had been shot and killed before someone who had been watching the news told Mom that Leonard King was fine. It was Martin Luther King who had been shot. Not that it isn’t still a terrible thing, because it is.

Dad has switched television shows again. Now he likes Hee Haw. He particularly loves one song they sing. “I searched the world over and I thought I found true love, but you met another and thptpth you were gone.” (thptpth is how you spell the razzberry sound.) He laughs his head off at that show. It is kind of funny when they pop up in the cornfield and say funny stuff. I guess since I don’t dance in front of the TV anymore, Dad feels it’s safe to watch shows with music in them again.

Marlene found a lady that will sew our dresses for us. All we have to do is buy the material and pattern and she makes the dress for only $10.00. She’s pretty fast and good too. It took me a couple of tries to realize that what I picture in my head, isn’t always the way it’s going to look finished. I found a pattern I just loved. It was kind of a flowing shift style and it had a white collar. When I went to buy the pretty blue and white fabric, I was shocked at how much it took, but I had to have it.

When the dress was all done, the flowing part was so huge, I pratically had to take three steps before the dress even moved. The sewing lady tried to fix it, but it never did turn out right. On the next try, I decided to play it safer, and I chose a pattern for a jumper that I saw a Noname girl in my Chemistry class wearing. Her Mom had made hers, so I looked and looked until I finally found the same pattern. I had it made out of red material. Miss Noname showed up at a school function with her jumper on, and I had mine on too. I got so scared she’d be mad at me for copying her dress, I kept my coat on the whole time. On the 3rd try I had a dress made like one of Marlene’s, because she didn’t care. I didn’t end up saving any money since I could only wear one out of three dresses.

Mom says patience is not my middle name, and it continues to cost me a lot of money. Remember those loafers I bought in Kennebec? They were identical to Josephine’s, but a size too big. I tried everything to keep them on my feet. I wore thick socks and stuffed the toes and everything. I still couldn’t keep them on. I should have asked Josephine if they run big. I want to go back to Kennebec and see if they got my size in, but right now I’m out of money. (I saw a little elderly lady about Grandma’s size the other day. She had pumps on and they must have been too big, because she was keeping them on with rubber bands.)

I hope some day I learn what my style is. It’s too hard to keep copying everyone else. Besides that, by the time I copy their clothes and hairstyles, they switch to another style that I like better too.

*************************************************************************

Since I was out of money. I decided to apply for a job as a waitress at the Skelly Truck Stop.  Well, I got hired. I had no idea how hard waitress work is. I was waiting on everybody sitting at one of the U-shaped counters, and I thought everything was going fine, until one guy said, “Hey! This isn’t what I ordered.” Another guy sitting on the other side, said, “Shut up and eat it, and be glad you got anything.” I had switched their orders, and they were eating each other’s food.

Anyway, I didn’t last long. They didn’t exactly fire me, but let me put it this way…nobody begged me to stay. As Mom always says, “Come back when you can’t stay so long.”

 

 

 

Well, it’s now the countdown to the reunion. I always make sure two things happen before I head out for a family, work, school or any other type of get together with people I haven’t seen for a while. Number one, I make sure I gain at least 10 lbs. and two, I get a bad haircut. I got the bad haircut yesterday. Just ask my friend Pat, who always tells me the truth. It looks almost as bad as the basketball players who took a pocket knife and cut their hair so Coach Applebee would let them practice..

Anyway, I haven’t bought any new clothes yet. I’m waiting until I’ve gained all the weight. 

I was going to end the blog this week-end with the promised Grand Finale, about the Sanderson Christmas, but I decided you all wouldn’t mind if I grew up a little more first. Once a Murdo Girl, always a Murdo Girl.

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What is the worst job you ever had? The longest and best job in my employment history lasted 16 years. The worst and shortest lasted 2 hours. It should have only been 15 minutes. I was a hangar clerk.

Do you know what a hangar clerk is or does? Me neither. I’ll get back to that.

Many times, when someone asked Mom how I was doing, she would say, “She’s just as happy as if she had good sense.” More often than not, she was right on the money.

I worked at the Motel until one day the President/owner of the Draper State Bank asked Mom if she thought I’d be interested in a job at the bank. He told her he needed to hire an “outsider,” because everyone in Draper was related to each other in one way or another, and they didn’t want any “insider,” to know their business. So I got my first big break, because I wasn’t related to any of those rich farmers and ranchers who had all the money. I’ve always been lucky that way.

I’ve never been much of a gossip, so it worked out well for the town and me. Mr. Hayes was right. Back then, we hand sorted all the checks every day. As we put them all in alphabetical order, we knew who had been on a shopping spree in Pierre, and how much they spent. We knew  who had been frequenting the bars, and who couldn’t pay the bills because we were going to have to bounce their check. If someone had a car or house payment, we knew how much that was too. A savings account for Christmas? A tax refund or did they have to pay in?

There was no such thing as a credit report. With all the above information, Keith and Leroy knew who had the means and/or the character to repay a loan. The  handshake agreements meant something then.

After I had worked at the bank a few months, Mom asked Mr. Hayes how I was working out. He told her he wished he had two of me. Her response was, “Is she that slow?” This from someone who thought I didn’t deserve the agreed upon amount per room, because it didn’t take me long enough to clean it. I learned from the best Mom.

A couple of years later, I left the bank and moved to Wyoming. I called my friend Karen, who was working at the Okaton State Bank, and told her about the job. She was another “outsider.” Karen worked at the Draper bank for about 50 or 75 years.

After moving to Wyoming, I decided to try something besides banking, and applied for and got the hangar clerk position at a power plant. I showed up that first day and was escorted to a small trailer with two desks in it. The girl who I was replacing handed me a hard hat, and introduced me to the guy who occupied the other desk. It took me about 2 minutes to form the opinion that he was a sleaze, and another 2 minutes for him to prove me right.

I should have left then, but I still wanted to know what a hangar clerk was. My trainer, walked me the short distance to the office of this humongous operation. She told me there were only 4  other females working at the plant, and they could all hunt bear with a stick.

Well, to make a long two hours short, I took the first opportunity I had to escape. I walked out to my car, put my hard hat on the hood of the car next to mine, and after I picked up my son at the babysitter’s, I drove home. When I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. It was the very nice man who had hired me. (Not the sleaze.) “Where did you go?” He asked. It should have been obvious that I had gone home? What I said was, “That job isn’t for me.”

About a week later, when I got home from my new bank job, there was a check in the mail from the power plant for $14.00. I was extremely offended when I noticed, “Not eligible for rehire,” was typed on the pay stub.

A few years later, I had worked my way up to manager of the real estate lending department at a small bank. One day, the man who had hired me and sent me the “Not eligible for rehire” check  walked into my office. He had changed jobs too and now worked for a real estate developer. We ended up doing quite a bit of business together. I could tell he was going to be a gentleman and not say anything about my leaving the power plant without giving more than 2 minutes notice.

One day, I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you about something. What exactly is a hangar clerk?” He said it had something to do with plans and specs. Then he added, “Don’t worry about it, that job wasn’t for you.”

 

A couple of days ago, I had dinner with a friend of 15 plus years. She has been reading the stories written by our miss Murdo Girl. She made the comment that she really didn’t recall that much about her growing up years. She said, “Mom gave us some paper dolls and said go play.” I’m curious about this. How many memories of growing up do most people have?

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When I have to take a test, I love multiple choice, or true or false questions. Even if you don’t know a thing, you can still get lucky.

We actually have a guidance counselor now. He is trying to help us figure out our strengths and weaknesses in terms of choosing a career. When I met with him, we went over all my grades and he had few ideas for me. He suggested I would excel at being an airline stewardess. I really like the idea of travelling and all that, but I’m not sure I’m cut out to fly the friendly skies for a living.

I also have no desire to work on a cruise ship. The vastness of all that water to drown in, doesn’t appeal to me at all. I can’t think of one single way to flourish in a career that involves travel. I guess I could be a bus driver; assuming I’ll get better at turning. (That’s a reference to yesterday’s paper.)

Next time I visit with the guidance counselor, I’ll ask him if he knows anyone who has been hypnotized to overcome their fears of flying and cruising. If that’s not a possibility, we’re going to have to pursue another train of thought. Oh..now that’s an idea! I could travel by train!

Anyway, we’re all going to Pierre next week to take the ACT test. The results are supposed to give a pretty good indication of what professions we have an aptitude for. Also, the higher the score the better chance you have of getting into a good college.

In the meantime, we’re taking the “Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow” test. The one that scores the highest gets a pin on awards night.

The beauty of these tests, is there is no way to really study for them. We went to a one day seminar, that suggested ways to bone up for the ACT and SAT tests, but that won’t help us increase our scores that much. I’m sure sometime in the future there will be more and better ways to prepare, but right now that’s really all there is.

THE RESULTS

Mom came home from her Saturday morning coffee at Mack’s Cafe with interesting news. I’m Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow! What a shock! I don’t know how to cook or anything. Well, that isn’t true. I learned how to make a mean bed cleaning all those motel rooms. I doubt that I’ll ever be a good cook. It seems really difficult to me. You have to know how to get everything done at the same time. Let’s say you’re making pork chops, potatoes and gravy, and corn on the cob. It can’t be that easy to get everything cooked and ready to eat at the same time.

They might teach that sort of thing in home economics. MHS doesn’t offer that class.We went to a basketball game in Martin, and at half time, their cheerleaders took us to see the home economics room. It was like a whole house. It had a huge kitchen and everything.

Anyway, the Betty Crocker test had a lot of questions about sewing and first aid. You all remember my attempts to learn how to sew. It’s a good thing there wasn’t any questions about how to make a dress without sewing the sleeves in backwards. As far as first aid goes, I left my poor little Grandma alone with a wound that was bleeding profusely. Instead of watching over her, I jumped in the car with Grandpa to go find Doctor Murphy.

The only reason I am Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of tomorrow, is that I’m proficient at eeny, meeny, miney, moe.

When Dad heard about me being Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow, he said, “Well, I’m not surprised, because she’s always going to do everything, including clean her room,  tomorrow.”

Today is Monday, and I guess my luck is still holding out. The Guidance Counselor called me in to go over the results of my ACT test. He has changed his mind about my  career in travel. He asked me if I had ever considered being  pharmacist.

I know you must think I’m lying, but I swear on a stack of Bibles, this is all true, and I’m not taking  bit of credit for it. When you only have a certain amount of time, true or false is much faster than multiple choice. Another stroke of luck!

Well, my guidance Councilor and I never did come up with the career choice of my future. I’m sure he’s still out there somewhere scratching his head over that one.

You know, now that I think about it, the summer before my Junior year, Mom called me to the phone. Apparently, our Superintendent, Mr. Haugland was going over all the classes everyone had signed up to take the next school year.

He said, “Mary, you signed up for bookkeeping. I am just letting you know that I’m changing that to chemistry.”

I got through Chemistry with B’s and some C’s. I hated every minute of it, but Mr. Haugland was probably right. I’m sure I’ve learned everything I need to know about bookkeeping from my Mom. All those years spent renting rooms at the Chalet Motel have surely given me all I need to know about keeping one or two sets of books.

This I learned from Mom, a woman who failed Algebra in High School.

So..If in the future, if you need a cake baked, or a prescription filled… I’m your girl.

 

 

 

 

 

I decided to do something a little different for today’s Murdo Girl, because my thoughts are on a very special person in my life, and he’s turning 85 in a couple of days.

Many of you Murdoites know Gus Gustafson. He and Mom had been married 38 years when she passed away on December 30, 2008. He had never been married before Mom, but he certainly knew how to be a great Husband, Second-Dad, and Grandpa.

Mom would be the first to say she was a challenge, but life with her was never dull. Billy and I will be eternally grateful for the love and caring spirit Gus unfailingly demonstrated in all the years he shared his life with Loretta. If patience is a virtue, then he is the most virtuous person I know.

Mom and Gus did some traveling during the months the motel was closed for the winter. On one of their trips a shaggy dog found them. Some local kids said they knew his name was Trouble, but his owners were no longer around. Trouble didn’t have tags and seemed to be in need of humans, so Mom and Gus invited him to be their permanent companion.

It was a two-day trip back to Murdo, so they stayed in a motel that first night. When they got up the next morning, Mom opened the door of the motel room and let Trouble out. Gus expressed some concern. Maybe their new friend wouldn’t find his way back. Mom said, “Any dog that doesn’t know how to get back to its owners is good for nothing anyway.” Trouble knew a good deal when he saw it, and was back in time, ready to occupy his new place in the front seat of the car with Gus. Mom liked to sit in the back anyway, so she could lay down and rest when she wanted to.

Trouble enjoyed life at the motel. He learned to recognize Aunt Elna’s car, because he loved the leftovers she brought him. In fact, when he saw her car coming, he would run and get his pan to greet her. In his excitement, he would jump up on the driver’s side with the pan in his mouth and bang it on her window. Fearful he would scratch her car door, she started driving by and throwing the food out the window. That was just fine with Trouble. He had it in a flash.

I looked everywhere for the picture of my son Mason, who was about 3, and Trouble. Mom loved the picture, because of the story behind it. Mason is playing with Trouble and holding a toy sheep. The sheep was part of a set of farm animals that belonged to David Edwards, who lived across the street. David’s parents owned the Graham Motor Lodge. Mom occasionally  took Mason over to play with David, and it appeared that Mason had purloined the sheep. Mom said she didn’t realize what had happened until one day David’s Mom Cynthia, mentioned that David knew all the animal sounds…except the sheep.

It was almost as much fun to holler, “Here Trouble,” as it was to call for Berferd, plus we could always say, “Here comes Trouble!” In later years, if Mom wasn’t feeling well, Trouble would instinctively know, and didn’t leave her side until he could see she felt better.

 

By the time I moved to Gillette, Wyoming, Mom and Gus had sold the motel and purchased a travel trailer. They moved to the Crazy Woman campground in Gillette where Gus worked construction, and Mom had a job she loved at the Rockpile Museum across the street. They soon befriended Charlie and Becky, who were from back East and also lived in the Crazy Woman Campground. One day Becky was out hosing down their parking area and a fellow camper sped by in his pickup. The dust and dirt flew. Becky was irritated, so she turned her hose on him. He had his driver’s side window open so he got doused pretty good.

Later that evening, Charlie was sitting in his favorite chair enjoying the daily newspaper, when the door to their motor home opened and some guy threw a bucket of water all over him. Imagine Charlie’s surprise.

Mom and Becky were quite a pair. They loved to shop with coupons. Mom was really excited about one of her coupons until the cashier told her it was expired. “But that’s my best one,”she said. It must have ruined their whole shopping experience.

I hope I have remembered a few of Gus’s favorite stories. He still talks about Trouble and what a good dog he was.

Eventually, Mom, Gus, and Trouble moved to Ontario, California. My brother Bill’s company managed the parking at the Ontario Airport, and they did some work counting the in and out traffic for him . One day Mom left the airport to go get some donuts and accidentally got on the freeway. She said she told God if he got her safely off that freeway, she would never drive again.

Gus still lives in Ontario and manages the RV park where the travel trailer has been parked for many years. He facilitates Bible study classes at the local Salvation Army, and also helps them distribute food to those in need. He enjoys steak night at the American Legion and helps out with their functions.

Every Saturday that Bill is in town, he meets Gus at the Pomona Fairplex, where they have simulcast horse racing. They always say they hope to break even, because they sure could use the money.

Gus comes to Texas once a year for Christmas or Thanksgiving, and we try to go see him at least once during the year. He spends other holidays with Bill and his family who live in Los Angeles. Gus’s nephew Mark and his wife Marlene live in Rapid City, so he visits them and their kids and grandkids.

He’s always interested in hearing news of the Sanderson family and other friends in Murdo. Gus was very saddened to hear of Dwight Hurst’s passing.

Gus is a stand-up guy and we love him very much. We hope you’ll join us in wishing him a happy 85th birthday (5/30), and continued good health. He shares the day with my Sister-in-law Liz, (Happy Birthday Liz.) Bill always takes them to the restaurant of their choice to celebrate.