In 1958 Mom took a trip to Ketchum with her good friend Orriette Sinclair. Mom was always interested in property to buy, and she found a lot on Warm Springs Road about 300 yards across from the ski run on Baldy. There was no lift on Warm Springs run in those days so you skied it as the last run of the day.
She convinced Herb to buy it and Herb got a loan from Jim Sinclair, the bank president and Orriette's husband in Twin. This loan was a such good rates that Dad made the minimum payments on it, until, after Jim had died, the new bank president called to complain that "it looked bad on the bank's books". Dad promptly paid it off.
In about 1963 Herb and Lorrain decided to build on it. They bought a 'kit house' that was hauled in unfinished by truck. They had ski instructors (alleged carpenters) put it together over the summer. Everything was in the kit...except the brick Mom wanted.
So, Mom and Dad found an old brick school near Kuna ( I think it was the Happy Valley School) that was being torn down and we began to salvage the brick. God, what hot hard sweaty work. We had to clean the mortar off the brick also. Scrounging thru the piles of broken brick to find usable ones became our weekend work.
We would load the brick in Dad's 1958 Chevy Biscayne and drive to Ketchum. But you couldn't just put the bricks in the car's trunk and go. No, they had to be placed so the car was not over loaded. Dad devised the method to haul the maximum number, 228, of brick by putting them on the front and back floorboards and in the trunk. Talk about a smooth ride. It was the first lowrider. And when Herb got a head of steam up, there was no slowing down. It probably took 20 trips to complete the walls and fireplaces.
It was was a great house. I met my wife on New Year's Eve while staying there with fraternity brothers over Christmas break in 1977.
Cleaning brick, loading brick, driving the brick up to Ketchum occupied an entire spring and summer. Dad would always say, as we sat in the hot car sweating and covered with brick and mortar dust, "these are the happy days!" I didn't know it then, but he was right.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Spinning Class at the Y
For over 20 years beginning when the folks were 70, they worked out every weekday at the West YMCA. They would arrive at 5 am like clockwork. Mom would swim and Dad would ride a stationary bike while watching TV. After about 15 years of this, when they were about 85, Mom had had enough. She told him "you are not working hard enough, you just sit there and go through the motions." She was German. To her way of thinking Dad should work harder than he did. But the reality was, Dad worked harder than anyone I ever knew.
So she enrolled him in a 'spinning class'. Except this class was the advanced class and everyone in it was less than 30 or so. All young and fit .
Dad told me about the first class. He got there early and sat on a bike in the back. Others arrived and looked at him but said nothing. The instructor came in from the front and didn't see Dad. The class started and the instructor told the class to get "up high and off the seat, let's get a good sweaty warmup started."
Dad said he was "really going" when the instructor said "Stop!" and pointed at Dad saying "you are not supposed to be in this class". "Are you sure you have a doctor's approval?" Dad told her he had ridden a stationary bike for years. He just didn't tell her it was while watching TV. She then asked " so, no heart problems or anything?" Dad gave her the old 'secret agent' slip...not a lie, just a sidestep; "Not that I would say". Truth was Dad had suffered at least three heart attacks by that point in his life.
Long story short, Dad was kicked out of the advanced spinning class. And Mom was not happy about it. Thereafter, any chance she got, Dad was made to shovel the driveway, rake leaves, gather firewood at Symms, etc.. When I saw Dad shoveling the back deck one day when he was 91 I confronted Mom.
"Good lord! Are you trying to kill the poor man?"
She replied " That's good for him".
She thought like we all did, Herb was the toughest man in the world and nothing could hurt him.
So she enrolled him in a 'spinning class'. Except this class was the advanced class and everyone in it was less than 30 or so. All young and fit .
Dad told me about the first class. He got there early and sat on a bike in the back. Others arrived and looked at him but said nothing. The instructor came in from the front and didn't see Dad. The class started and the instructor told the class to get "up high and off the seat, let's get a good sweaty warmup started."
Dad said he was "really going" when the instructor said "Stop!" and pointed at Dad saying "you are not supposed to be in this class". "Are you sure you have a doctor's approval?" Dad told her he had ridden a stationary bike for years. He just didn't tell her it was while watching TV. She then asked " so, no heart problems or anything?" Dad gave her the old 'secret agent' slip...not a lie, just a sidestep; "Not that I would say". Truth was Dad had suffered at least three heart attacks by that point in his life.
Long story short, Dad was kicked out of the advanced spinning class. And Mom was not happy about it. Thereafter, any chance she got, Dad was made to shovel the driveway, rake leaves, gather firewood at Symms, etc.. When I saw Dad shoveling the back deck one day when he was 91 I confronted Mom.
"Good lord! Are you trying to kill the poor man?"
She replied " That's good for him".
She thought like we all did, Herb was the toughest man in the world and nothing could hurt him.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Herb and his "friends with the blue lights"
When I was growing up, and up into the 90's, Dad had a lead foot when he drove. Never reckless but about 20 over the limit on open roads. Mom knew it and when she was peeved at him about some thing, she'd needle him.
"Herb slow down!" Dad's response was always the same. "What?" as though Lorrain has just accused him of doing the impossible...like having two heads. Mom would then turn to me and say " he should have been a race car driver ." She would then make car noises and say "zoom!".
When Matt was little he'd ride with the folks on trips. Upon their return on one occasion I asked how was the trip? Matt replied "Great! We met Peep's (this was the boys' nickname for grandfather) friend with the blue lights!" Seems that that was how Herb explained the traffic stop, saying "Oh how nice, my friend wants to say hello and he's signaling me with his blue lights". Dad would then go back and have a nice chat with his "friend."
Dad would never ask me to defend him on any of his citations. He would just quietly pay them and never bad mouth the officer. Mother was quite different in her approach.
You see, Mom never felt she was guilty. And she would tell you so with all conviction. Then she would hand me the citation saying "take care of this". Once I asked her "what do you mean, take care of this?".
"We'll, just tell them I'm not guilty. You're a lawyer ...they'll believe you". Right. I never did tell
her that most folks thought the exact opposite.
The second to last ticket she gave me to "take care of" was for using the emergency turn-around on the interstate near Mountain Home. This occurred when they were in their 90's and Dad was driving. As always, I interviewed my client with the hopes of establishing a defense.
Seems they missed the turn to Sun Valley and needed turn around. Seeing an ISP trooper parked across the interstate didn't deter Mom;
"Turn right here on this gravel road" instructed Mom.
"Lorrain, you can't do that. It's for emergencies"
"No it isn't. It's a nice graveled turn-around and if they didn't want you to use it they wouldn't have put it in".
So, Dad turned onto the emergency access and went back toward the Fairfield exit. Again, right in front of the ISP officer who had someone else pulled over.
About 5 miles down the road Dad saw the lights and pulled over. The officer stayed in his car talking on the radio and writing for a few minutes.
The officer then walked up to Mom's side and handed her the citation. And she hadn't been driving. "Here, sign this" he said. Somehow the ticket was properly filled out. Her name, DOB, address, everything was correct. What did Mom do?
"I signed it".
I looked at the ticket. There was no signature there. "Where did you sigh it" I asked. "Right there...I drew a 'frowny face'" Sure enough.
There was a mean lookiing frowny face on the signature line.
"So what did the officer do when you drew the frowny face?"
"He grabbed it away from me and then, looking past me over at Herb, said, 'Mr. Carlson, you have a nice day' and drove away.
Leaving the house with that citation I had to laugh. The ISP officer must have watched Mom gesturing at toward the emergency access and pressuring
Dad to turn in there. I ended up paying the ticket myself even though, legally, Mom should not have been cited. Later, Mom asked about the ticket. "All taken care of Mom" I told her. "Good" she said, "they never should have put such a nice turn-around in if they didn't want people to use it."
.
I
"Herb slow down!" Dad's response was always the same. "What?" as though Lorrain has just accused him of doing the impossible...like having two heads. Mom would then turn to me and say " he should have been a race car driver ." She would then make car noises and say "zoom!".
When Matt was little he'd ride with the folks on trips. Upon their return on one occasion I asked how was the trip? Matt replied "Great! We met Peep's (this was the boys' nickname for grandfather) friend with the blue lights!" Seems that that was how Herb explained the traffic stop, saying "Oh how nice, my friend wants to say hello and he's signaling me with his blue lights". Dad would then go back and have a nice chat with his "friend."
Dad would never ask me to defend him on any of his citations. He would just quietly pay them and never bad mouth the officer. Mother was quite different in her approach.
You see, Mom never felt she was guilty. And she would tell you so with all conviction. Then she would hand me the citation saying "take care of this". Once I asked her "what do you mean, take care of this?".
"We'll, just tell them I'm not guilty. You're a lawyer ...they'll believe you". Right. I never did tell
her that most folks thought the exact opposite.
The second to last ticket she gave me to "take care of" was for using the emergency turn-around on the interstate near Mountain Home. This occurred when they were in their 90's and Dad was driving. As always, I interviewed my client with the hopes of establishing a defense.
Seems they missed the turn to Sun Valley and needed turn around. Seeing an ISP trooper parked across the interstate didn't deter Mom;
"Turn right here on this gravel road" instructed Mom.
"Lorrain, you can't do that. It's for emergencies"
"No it isn't. It's a nice graveled turn-around and if they didn't want you to use it they wouldn't have put it in".
So, Dad turned onto the emergency access and went back toward the Fairfield exit. Again, right in front of the ISP officer who had someone else pulled over.
About 5 miles down the road Dad saw the lights and pulled over. The officer stayed in his car talking on the radio and writing for a few minutes.
The officer then walked up to Mom's side and handed her the citation. And she hadn't been driving. "Here, sign this" he said. Somehow the ticket was properly filled out. Her name, DOB, address, everything was correct. What did Mom do?
"I signed it".
I looked at the ticket. There was no signature there. "Where did you sigh it" I asked. "Right there...I drew a 'frowny face'" Sure enough.
There was a mean lookiing frowny face on the signature line.
"So what did the officer do when you drew the frowny face?"
"He grabbed it away from me and then, looking past me over at Herb, said, 'Mr. Carlson, you have a nice day' and drove away.
Leaving the house with that citation I had to laugh. The ISP officer must have watched Mom gesturing at toward the emergency access and pressuring
Dad to turn in there. I ended up paying the ticket myself even though, legally, Mom should not have been cited. Later, Mom asked about the ticket. "All taken care of Mom" I told her. "Good" she said, "they never should have put such a nice turn-around in if they didn't want people to use it."
.
I
Lorrain and the golf cart
Sometime around 1990, when Lorrain was still teaching at Eagle Elementary, I stopped by the house and there was golf cart parked in the driveway. Herb and Lorrain's house was about two hundred yards from the 18th tee at Eagle Hills, so I guess the presence of the golf cart made some some sense. But not really.
Herb and Lorrain didn't golf much since 1960 and not at Eagle Hills. Hmm. Must be someone visiting. Their clubs were on the back. Yes, that was it. Visitors at the house. When I walked in Herb and Lorrain were at the kitchen table like always. Reading.
"Whose golf cart?" I asked.
"What golf cart?" asked Herb.
"The one in the driveway".
Lorrain cut in quickly; "I found it. It was abandoned".
Herb got out of his chair. But said nothing. He knew this was a case of Lorrain's logic gone far astray. He'd seen it happen before, often with him having to cure the problem because Lorrain "didn't do anything wrong".
"Where?" I asked.
"Where do you think...on the golf course".
Herb sat down. Yes, this was one of those times.
I made Mom recount the facts...listening hopefully to hear the legal elements of abandoned property mentioned.
Not even close. It seems that while walking home from school Lorrain, somewhere near the 10th fairway had found the unattended cart with "no one around". She then drove it home because "they wouldn't have left it if they had wanted it".
And what about their golf clubs?
"If they'd wanted those they would have taken them with them."
Dad and I looked at each other. We both imagined the golfers looking for a lost ball and returning to see their cart gone. Or yelling at Mom as she drove off. But her being hard of hearing, just driving away. And the 10th tee? So far from the 18th and the house.
Dad and I went out to the driveway. The cart was gone.
"I guess they came and got it" Dad said. Then Mom came out and saw the cart was missing.
Her response..."someone stole it".
Dad turned to me and winked. "Happens all the time" he said.
And Mom's response; "Well those SOB's".
Herb and Lorrain didn't golf much since 1960 and not at Eagle Hills. Hmm. Must be someone visiting. Their clubs were on the back. Yes, that was it. Visitors at the house. When I walked in Herb and Lorrain were at the kitchen table like always. Reading.
"Whose golf cart?" I asked.
"What golf cart?" asked Herb.
"The one in the driveway".
Lorrain cut in quickly; "I found it. It was abandoned".
Herb got out of his chair. But said nothing. He knew this was a case of Lorrain's logic gone far astray. He'd seen it happen before, often with him having to cure the problem because Lorrain "didn't do anything wrong".
"Where?" I asked.
"Where do you think...on the golf course".
Herb sat down. Yes, this was one of those times.
I made Mom recount the facts...listening hopefully to hear the legal elements of abandoned property mentioned.
Not even close. It seems that while walking home from school Lorrain, somewhere near the 10th fairway had found the unattended cart with "no one around". She then drove it home because "they wouldn't have left it if they had wanted it".
And what about their golf clubs?
"If they'd wanted those they would have taken them with them."
Dad and I looked at each other. We both imagined the golfers looking for a lost ball and returning to see their cart gone. Or yelling at Mom as she drove off. But her being hard of hearing, just driving away. And the 10th tee? So far from the 18th and the house.
Dad and I went out to the driveway. The cart was gone.
"I guess they came and got it" Dad said. Then Mom came out and saw the cart was missing.
Her response..."someone stole it".
Dad turned to me and winked. "Happens all the time" he said.
And Mom's response; "Well those SOB's".
No funerals...how strange? Not.
The first question asked about Herb and Lorrain is "why no funeral services"? The simple answer is they didn't want one. Neither one did. But the more complex question is "why didn't they"?
To answer this requires that you know Herb and Lorrain.
They were happily people and funerals ALWAYS saddened them. The grief of attending funerals caused them to avoid them. In the half century I knew them, I don't ever recall them going to one and if they did ever attend one...they never talked to me about it. And they had plenty of friends who died...being in their 90's they felt as if all their friends had died. Makes sense that they didn't want to cause sadness for others.
The fact that they didn't want funerals was clear. Because they said so. It was difficult to get them to even draft an obit. Lorrain refused to write one. Herb wrote one and it reads like a bad police report; "Herb left to join The Lord on------. He tried to do the Lord's work while on this earth. He was born in Milwaukee on November 27 1918 and died in -----Idaho.
Factually correct.. Yet woefully incomplete. You see, Dad never could bring himself to talk about himself to others. He had no ego. He was humble to a fault. Makes sense that a selfless man wouldn't want a group to gather to praise him at a funeral. But he did tell stories to his family. These stories give us valuable insights into his values.
Lorrain had a different slant on it. No, she didn't like to talk about herself either. But, there was a more simple...and honest reason for no funeral; she often said she wasn't going.
If she would get sick she would call for whiskey. Not to drink. Not for some type of cure. The whiskey wasn't medicine to her. She would take a sip because " I don't want to die with whiskey on my breath". Made sense to her. She reasoned that if she had whiskey on her breath, then she just couldn't die. It would be too embarrassing to her family and God wouldn't do that to her or them. She'd known those who died with whiskey on their breath as a girl in Milwaukee. And how people talked! Nope. Not for her. A sip and she felt as if she just had to recover as if by a psychosomatic remedy. Too bad we didn't bring her a wee dram when she was hospitalized. But that is quite another story.
To answer this requires that you know Herb and Lorrain.
They were happily people and funerals ALWAYS saddened them. The grief of attending funerals caused them to avoid them. In the half century I knew them, I don't ever recall them going to one and if they did ever attend one...they never talked to me about it. And they had plenty of friends who died...being in their 90's they felt as if all their friends had died. Makes sense that they didn't want to cause sadness for others.
The fact that they didn't want funerals was clear. Because they said so. It was difficult to get them to even draft an obit. Lorrain refused to write one. Herb wrote one and it reads like a bad police report; "Herb left to join The Lord on------. He tried to do the Lord's work while on this earth. He was born in Milwaukee on November 27 1918 and died in -----Idaho.
Factually correct.. Yet woefully incomplete. You see, Dad never could bring himself to talk about himself to others. He had no ego. He was humble to a fault. Makes sense that a selfless man wouldn't want a group to gather to praise him at a funeral. But he did tell stories to his family. These stories give us valuable insights into his values.
Lorrain had a different slant on it. No, she didn't like to talk about herself either. But, there was a more simple...and honest reason for no funeral; she often said she wasn't going.
If she would get sick she would call for whiskey. Not to drink. Not for some type of cure. The whiskey wasn't medicine to her. She would take a sip because " I don't want to die with whiskey on my breath". Made sense to her. She reasoned that if she had whiskey on her breath, then she just couldn't die. It would be too embarrassing to her family and God wouldn't do that to her or them. She'd known those who died with whiskey on their breath as a girl in Milwaukee. And how people talked! Nope. Not for her. A sip and she felt as if she just had to recover as if by a psychosomatic remedy. Too bad we didn't bring her a wee dram when she was hospitalized. But that is quite another story.
About this blog
Herb and Lorrain were "one of a kind". Sure there were two people...but they did everything together. After 75 years of marriage they became one. When people think of Herb they also recall
Lorrain. When folks saw Herb, Lorrain was there also. They were a team. Really, the only thing they didn't do was die together. Herb tried his best to join Lorrain in death, but his heart attack the morning after Lorrain passed just wasn't quite strong enough. Well, he finally succeeded in April 2013.
This blog is for those who knew Herb and Lorrain. And for those who wish they had known this pair. Tell their story the way you remember these two. Read the stories others have posted. Get to know a bit more about these two wonderful people. Have some fun. Herb and Lorrain sure did.
Lorrain. When folks saw Herb, Lorrain was there also. They were a team. Really, the only thing they didn't do was die together. Herb tried his best to join Lorrain in death, but his heart attack the morning after Lorrain passed just wasn't quite strong enough. Well, he finally succeeded in April 2013.
This blog is for those who knew Herb and Lorrain. And for those who wish they had known this pair. Tell their story the way you remember these two. Read the stories others have posted. Get to know a bit more about these two wonderful people. Have some fun. Herb and Lorrain sure did.
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