Recalling Two Dates in Late September

I am revisiting a previous post this week since I have experienced some major laptop difficulties the last several days.!

One of the Best Ways to Celebrate Birthdays

Aunt Daisy Rice, Dawn Rice Haney, Aunt Emma
 Rainey Buckley, Rick Rice, me, Angie Gates 
Bradley. Take notice of the two cakes.

                Daisy Dean Rainey Rice was born on September 30 in 1893. My sister, Angie, was born on September 28 many years later. For several years, we looked forward to a family event in September to celebrate these two birthdays. The celebration was a dinner, usually in the early evening. Some years my family hosted the soirée at our home as the photo below shows. On other years, the dinner was at Aunt Daisy’s house. Aunt Emma, the embodiment of a perfect hostess as a result of her many years in Washington, D. C., entertained everyone at her home on the east side of the square for some of the happy occasions.

Aunt Daisy Rainey Rice and Angie Gates Bradley 
at the 1965 September celebration held at our 
home that we shared with my maternal grandparents.
It is hard to believe that our home was only 
4 years old.at the time of this photograph!

             An interesting note about the square - it consisted of a section of land in the Big Bend community just west of the Belford Schoolhouse. Aunt Daisy’s house was on the south side 
 of the square, our home was on the north side of the square, and as already mentioned, Aunt Emma’s home that she shared with her younger brother, Gene, the last home of her parents, was on the east side of the square. Hazel Goad and her family lived on the west side of the square. (Hazel was a daughter of Daisy Rainey Rice. For more about Hazel see the blog post of May 18, 2014, entitled Celebrating a Hundred-Year-Old Treasure.) Just to clarify a bit of family history - Lewis and Pearl Rainey lived on the south side of the square just east of Aunt Daisy’s home. Lewis was the older brother of Daisy, Emma, and Gladys, my grandmother. Rick Rice and his parents, Virgil and Helen, lived a short distance from the southeast corner of the square.
              There were always two cakes at these celebrations. Aunt Emma Buckley usually fixed the cake for Angie. Mother and Aunt Daisy shared an affinity for the color pink so Mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, enjoyed baking and decorating a cake for her aunt - a cake that always included pink in some way. No matter the cake or frosting flavors, both cakes were always created with much love.

Angie Gates Bradley and Aunt Daisy Dean Rainey Rice just before "Happy 
Birthday" was sung and the delicious,homebaked cakes were sliced and sampled. 
This photograph was taken in 1966, at the celebration hosted by Aunt Daisy at
her home.

            Understandably, Angie always was much more excited about the gifts than Aunt Daisy was. Looking at the expression of delight on Angie’s face in the photographs, one can tell she was a happy, little girl. Aunt Daisy's birthday joy derived from being surrounded by her family. She wanted nothing more than to be with her loved ones. Her motto was "The more the merrier." Sharing a happy time together as a family was paramount.

The "Two Cakes Celebration" in 1967. Grandma Mamie Tripp Gates, Dawn
Rice Haney, me, Rick Rice, Aunt (actually Great-Aunt) Daisy Rainey Rice, 
Edmund Gates, Jr., my father. Angie Gates Bradley is barely visible above her
cake baked by Aunt Emma Rainey Buckley!

Rick Rice, Angie Gates Bradley, me with my side to camera, Dawn Rice Haney 
in the living room of our home as Angie opens gifts in 1967. Rick's parents and
 Dawn's parents had helped my parents and grandparents build our home in 1961.

Grandma Mamie Gates (partially visible), Edmund Gates, Jr., Elmer Rice, Angie
sitting on Grandpa Calvin Callcayah Smith's lap, Daisy Rainey Rice with Ruby
 Martin Rice standing behind. This was taken in Aunt Daisy's kitchen in 1966. 
Grandpa and Elmer probably had just had a good laugh over some political comment.

              No matter where or when we create good memories, the foremost remembrance involves people. There may be funny happenings, lovely surroundings, delightful food, or beautiful music, but the key reason we cherish those times centers around our loved ones. In light of this, we should, as we live our daily lives, hold close in our hearts, in our thoughts, and in our prayers those we love. Living life this way diminishes future regrets.

        

           This photo was snapped of Angie Gates Bradley and Ronnie Rice just as the 
          delightful evening was ending. Ronnie lived many years with his grandmother, 
         Daisy Rice after Virgil and Dean, her younger children, left home following the
 death of their father, Ernest Rice. Aunt Daisy did not like to be alone and loved to
have her family members around her.

Happy Birthday to Julia Irene Gates Newland

Julia Irene Gates Newland

Julia Irene Gates was born on September 22 on the Gates farm west of Ralston. Her three older sisters and five older brothers welcomed her into the family of Edmund Gates, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates. Baby Julia received the same middle name as her mother – Irene.

My father, Edmund Gates, Jr., was the oldest brother that Julia knew. He was fourteen years old when she arrived. Dad enlisted in the Army Air Corps just twelve days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Little Julia, at the age of eight, missed her big brother terribly since he had been living on the farm helping their father as the family tried to recover from the Great Depression.

Julia with her baby sister, Mamie Marie modeling the pretty pink dresses made
by their mother, Mamie Irene Tripp Gates.

Julia vividly recalled one time when my father came home on leave. The little two-room house bulged with excited family members, vibrating with the never-hushed voices of the talkative Gates clan. Even though Julia’s anticipation of her big brother’s return had pervaded her thoughts, at that moment one of her teeth pained her unbearably to the point of tears! Remembering how sensitive he had always been to her, she approached her brother. He learned of her aching tooth. My father located immediately a topical pain reliever, put it on a piece of cotton, and applied it to the decayed tooth. To her relief, Dad’s remedy alleviated her pain, allowing a joyful celebration with her favorite big brother.

At that time, Julia attended Woodland Grade School, graduating from eighth grade. Then she rode the bus to Burbank to receive her high school education. Upon graduation, she worked at the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company office in Blackwell, Oklahoma.

Julia with Mr. Lowell Welker and Clayton Hicks with their 8th grade diplomas
from Woodland Grade School in the west Big Bend.

She later completed college courses in the early childhood field. Soon after that, she taught little ones in some of the locations where she lived after her marriage. She enjoyed teaching music in two nursery schools in Dallas.

I recalled the day Grandma Gates called to say Aunt Julia had a fourth baby boy. At around eight years of age, I was “all ears” at family news. As Dad relayed to Mother the name of Julia’s new son, I overheard “Daniel Edmund.” I interjected, “The baby is named after Daddy.”

Mother corrected me, saying the new baby cousin was probably named after Grandpa, Edmund Gates, Sr. Her statement appeared logical to me so I never questioned further. Over fifty years later, as I informed Dan of my father’s death so he could convey the sad news to his mother, he explained that he was indeed named after Dad, since he was her favorite. Since Dad’s death, I sometimes refer to Dan as “Daniel Edmund” since I like to hear Dad’s name, and it reminds me of a cherished family story illustrating Dad’s sensitivity to his sweet, little sister.

How appropriate that Daniel Edmund Newland, Dad’s namesake, worked his magic as a graphic designer/publisher on my father’s military experiences entitled Okie Over Europe. As an independent publisher, he published the books out of his own studio. Dad lived long enough to see and hold in his hand the book in its final form. He would have been pleased to see how much people have enjoyed his recounting of those years that so scripted his life.

I have much admiration for Aunt Julia as she raised her four boys with the principles she had been taught by her parents. Using her diligence and talent, she did monogramming for schools and companies to personalize the specific items for these entities in the Dallas/Fort Worth metro area. With the frugality she had learned in her home from her parents in the west Bend, she provided support for her sons coupled with an abundance of love.

Julia was a member of the Writers’ Workshop group at the Garland Senior Activity Center near her home in Garland, Texas. When her group proposed a publication focusing on veterans, she thought of her oldest brother.  Her contribution of a brief account of Dad’s World War II exploits was printed in a collaborative effort published by her group entitled Veterans and Patriots of Freedom. Dad kept the copy that Judy (the name he usually used for her) gave him.

Only Julia would be the one of my father's siblings to connect with a Rainey while living deep in the heart of Texas. Julia's boys were playing in the neighborhood in Garland soon after moving there. Rory, her second from the youngest, appeared at Marilyn Rainey Firestone Brager's door with her son, Craig. Marilyn said to Rory, "I knew someone with eyes just like yours but they were from Oklahoma." Rory, never at a loss for words, immediately responded, "My grandma lives in Oklahoma." Soon Marilyn and Julia were renewing their friendship that had begun decades earlier in the Big Bend. Of course, Marilyn, my mother's cousin, had lived for sometime with my mother's family. Dad's response was "It's a small world,"when Grandma Gates called and told him of the connection that Rory made.

Aunt Julia stands out in my mind as a woman of faith. Her trust in the Lord, through difficulties as she reared her sons and as she experienced illness in later life, has sustained her year after year.

Happy, Happy Birthday, Aunt Julia!

                                Julia with her four boys - Rory, Mike*, Daniel Edmund, and Pat**

*I wrote some remembrances of Mike, Julia's eldest son, who died in 2014, in a blog posting entitled, Singing on Grandpa's Birthday.  To access the above mentioned blog go to: bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/06/singing-on-grandpas-birthday.html

**Patrick, a cousin of mine, made a point to connect with me after lunch at a recent reunion. After exchanging the pertinent yearly personal updates, he said, “Your dad is my hero.” He continued to reiterate the steadfastness in my father that he had observed for all the years he had known him. The well-defined consistency in his character and faith had been an inspiration to my cousin as he was on his own journey through life. Then he said, “He is the most compassionate man I know.”
I reflected on the infrequency of hearing a man’s name connected with compassion. Then I recalled a phrase from the New Testament repeatedly used in Matthew 9:36, Matthew 14:14, and Mark 6:34 to describe Jesus. The scripture says that Jesus “was moved with compassion.” Jesus, the Son of God, just by seeing the hurts and needs of others was motivated to take action on their behalf. I think that is what my cousin saw in my father – someone sensitive to those around him. (I wrote this in an article from 2010 after visiting with Patrick, Julia’s second son, who is only one day older than I am. Patrick’s reunion musings seemed so appropriate for this posting.)

9/11 - 15 Years Ago

Exactly 15 years ago today, as Americans, our lives changed, altered by events entirely out of our control, perpetrated by a commitment to unconscionable, deliberate acts birthed in hatred. The memory of that time drove me to retrieve from the storage container my journal written in that era. I lifted sections from it, exactly as I wrote them fifteen years ago.

September 11, 2001

Today began as any other day. I found myself feverishly trying to be ready to attend Dad’s 305^th Bomb Group Reunion in Tulsa this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday….However, today, at around 10:25 a.m., I was going to pick up some copies from the computer room printer when Lisa Wills and Kelley Brumley, my teaching colleagues, were discussing a catastrophe. I learned from them that the World Trade Center in New York City had been a target as well as the Pentagon. Since I was unsure how to approach the subject without inciting fear in my students, I had to plod on with my teaching. Finally, the teaching day was over, but the concepts taught and the behavior of the third graders dimmed in light of the deadly attack on the U.S. government (the Pentagon) and the U.S. economy (the World Trade Center). Those I loved seemed ever dearer to me. I felt the need to be with loved ones and Mom was delighted to invite me to their house to see the special reports of today’s devastation….As we learned more of the attacks and the sorrow and death surrounding them, I realized how fragile life and peace are. Earlier today Kelley (Brumley) and I were talking and she said, “It just shows we must be prepared to die.” I replied, “If our trust is in Jesus, we know we are ready to go.”…Ironically, as we were watching, Dad said, “September 11, 1945 was the day I arrived home from World War II for good.” (His generation had thought they had fought the war to end all wars. Yet that very morning as he watched the latest news, he witnessed the second plane fly into the World Trade Center Tower.)

The third graders that I was teaching on that ill-fated September 11, 2001.
Photograph by Blunck Studios, Inc.

September 12, 2001

Today is “the morning after” the worst attack in U.S. history. I left my radio on all night to KOSU to hear NPR reports. It was interesting because after 11 p.m., they began airing the BBC news report. (In London, the time was 5 a.m. – as Dad would say “The Limeys are six hours ahead of us.”) Nevertheless, I was ready to get up. I shut off the radio so I could read my Bible and pray. After I got around and ready, I went to Bigheart Grocery to buy The Daily Oklahoman and the Tulsa World. I also took a children’s encyclodpedia with a lovely panoramic shot showing the World Trade Center. ...I had my students write in their guided journals their feelings or facts about the suicide hijackings. Later in the day the students were able to illustrate their journal entries. Near the end of the day, I allowed those who wanted to, to read aloud their journal entries. If they wanted me to read the entry, they could put their journals on the round table. Curtis Edens and Laryn Rice did this. I tried to listen to the students and allow them to look at the newspaper. Steven Ben said his dad said there was a hero on the flight that crashed in Pennsylvania….That night was Wednesday night Bible study at the church. …The song chosen was “In Times Like These” … one godly woman mentioned that God was trying to get America to repent. I almost immediately recalled the many times as young boys, Brendon Lowe and Joshua Corley had prayed for America to turn back to God. Even though we were very small in number, it seemed good to be with our church family. Dad taught that night from Joshua 1:1-18 (We were without a pastor at the time.). I must “be strong and of a good courage.”

September 13, 2001

Today is the 2^nd day after the attack on America. About 1-2 a.m. I finally turned off NPR radio because I was falling asleep and there wasn’t a lot of news. I was packing this morning since we are leaving at 1:30 p.m. for Dad’s 305^th Bombing Group Reunion* in Tulsa. I ran by Formby’s today (I should say Bigheart Grocery) to pick up the The Daily Oklahoman and the Tulsa World. …We had Woodland Wake Up. As always we pledged Allegiance to the flags. We also sang the National Anthem and “God Bless America.” Bobby reminded the students to be grateful for each day we have because nothing is guaranteed. He had told the Red Cross we would make cards for the rescue workers in Washington, D.C. and New York City. I told my students I would be gone this afternoon and all day tomorrow….When we unloaded and checked in, we then headed down to get Dad registered. We learned neither of the fellow members of his original crew were coming. Many of the other 305^th that had planned cannot or have not arrived due to the total flight shutdown in the USA….Each night the TV is full of news reports even well after 11 p.m. The country is so shaken by the attacks. Our country never believed we would be attacked on our own soil, but we have been. It is my moment-by-moment prayer that we turn back to God and realize our need for Him on a daily basis.

Until I reread these entries, I had forgotten the uncertainty and fear that seeped into conversations with the third graders fifteen years ago. Not only did worry and concern affect the usually happy, carefree children but also their parents, grandparents, teachers, and adult neighbors. That morning did change the outlook of many Americans. The security of being in the strongest nation in history vanished. I didn’t fathom fifteen years ago, other smaller attacks on unsuspecting citizens on American soil would occur, but we all know they have.

During these following years of insecurity, apprehension, and trepidation, those bright-eyed third graders have grown into responsible adults of whom I take pride each time I hear of their accomplishments. Most importantly, I rejoice when I am told and see the thoughtful, kind, caring, and dependable young people they have matured into being. In reality, no terrorist can destroy that inner commitment to follow the values and principles taught by their families and teachers. In light of that, the chapter from the Bible that I shared with many in September of 2001, still resounds with relevancy today. It is our only strength and hope.

The Lord is my light and my salvation: Whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked come against me to eat up my flesh,

My enemies and foes, they stumbled and fell.

Though an army may encamp against me, my heart shall not fear;

Though war may rise against me, in this I will be confident.

One thing I have desired of the Lord that will I seek:

That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,

 To behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple…

 When You said, “Seek My face,”

My heart said to You, “Your face, Lord, I will seek.”…

…portions from Psalm 27

*This was the last 305^th Bomb Group reunion that was close enough for Dad to try to attend. The 2001 Reunion had been bittersweet since his dear friend and pilot, Fred Rabo had died the previous year. Incidentally, Dad was the final member of the original group and lived longer than any of the other nine men.

Those Hated Thorns and Thistles

I Agree With Grandma

             As a small child, when my maternal grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, first heard the story of Adam and Eve explained by her mother, her response was, "I hate Adam." Her mother, Rosa Jarrell Rainey, promptly spanked her, appalled that her middle daughter would defame the first man created on the earth, in the very image of God. Let me go on record that I agree with my grandma to a point. I won't use the word "hate" but obviously, Adam didn't believe his willful disobedience in following Eve would lead to back-breaking work, destruction in his perfect environment, and most importantly, an inner change in the depth of his soul.

           Adam had to be one of the most miserable men that ever walked the earth. I made a similar comment to Mother after coming in from the pasture recently. I went on to explain that he experienced the earth without thistles or thorns. What a reality check he faced when he spotted the first prickly thistle in his lush, green pastures and even worse what a horror when he found the first one from his flock or herd sickened or dead from eating a noxious plant. The consequences for his choice had materialized.

           His life worsened as he realized that year after year those destructive plants returned. He was never able to eradicate them, no matter what methods he employed. For his entire life, following the soul-altering choice to disobey God's sole command to Eve and him, he fought the adverse elements in his pasture.

           Living in the Garden of Eden was literally a paradise for one who enjoyed seeing botanical wonders. What a sinking feeling he must have experienced when he encountered the first weeds amidst his lush vegetation!

On more than one occasion, I told Ron Badley, our 

botany teacher, that he prepared me superbly for 

all the life science courses I took at OSU. (He 

taught us to identify so many prairie flora. This is
 buffalo bur which became history soon after I photo-
graphed it!) I hate these signs of Adam's detrimental 

choice. I must admit that I know based on the Bible, I
 would have made the same irrevocable choice as Adam. 

          As he tended his herds and flocks, I know he had time to contemplate the decision he had made with Eve to violate God's only "do not" instruction to not eat the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Thousands of times, he probably recalled the days before their choice to disobey and what indescribable difficulty they ushered into their lives.

          We are akin to our first ancestors. We make choices overriding God's word, our consciences, and sometimes the warnings of those around us. Then we sorrow when forced to live with the consequences. 

         Thankfully, God's plan didn't end there. He Himself came onto our planet, subjecting Himself to a human body with all of its limitations to show us who He was. Ultimately, Jesus did for us what we could never do for ourselves. Willingly, He became sin for us that we might be made right in His eyes. Paul beautifully wrote of this unfathomable action in II Corinthians 5:21. How could we not accept the forgiveness of the God who became the sacrifice for us?

         I contemplate how Adam and Eve daily walked in the evenings with God. Their disobedience interrupted that pleasant end-to-the-day ritual. Thanks be to God who has restored to us close communication with us through His Word and prayer. May we always take advantage of His communication with us through the Bible. After all, the whole plan of God is centered on forming relationships with those humans willing to reciprocate His love. Through purposeful meditation on His word, reading and obeying His word, and encouraging worship with others who love Him, we can experience that daily walk with our Creator and Savior. What a reassuring thought that we can still have an end-to-the-day ritual as we talk through prayer with Him about our day, read from His Word of the certainty of His presence through our nighttime rest, and the promise of Him being beside us as we open our eyes to welcome the new day!