Those two obituaries put me in a reflective mood. That tends to happen when I read the Warren paper and come upon a familiar name. This letter may turn into more of a reminiscence than a report on what happening in Middleton.
Midweek already! Where are the brakes on this 1999 vehicle? I’m on the freeway when I’d rather be taking the scenic back roads. JoAnna is feeling the same way. Her schedule has become very full over the past three weeks while she has been coordinating Shirley Abrahamson’s campaign. She’s in Milwaukee attending a fundraiser this evening. The event was scheduled from 5 until 7, so maybe she’ll be home before 10. Andy just returned home from basketball practice and is into a hockey game on his Playstation, which is now back in his possession after a week in storage. Since his intransigence a week ago yesterday, he’s been very good about getting up in the morning, especially on band days. His “I can live without Playstation” statement during a fit of pique last week turned out to be nothing more than false bravado.
Eddie’s at his art table, drawing dinosaurs, which is one of the units his class is studying this week. While Andy was at practice, I drilled Eddie on his vocabulary words for this week, and then he read to me for 15 minutes.
I received a belated Christmas card and note from Tina (Werlin) Branstad, who now lives in Chicago. I enclosed a note in the card I sent to her and her husband. She sent a picture of her “family”, which includes a huge black Standard poodle. Tina looks great, as well-coifed and well-dressed as ever. She extended an invitation to JoAnna and me to visit them sometime. We actually need an excuse for a trip to Chicago, but I’m not sure if it’s going to happen anytime soon. Tina mentioned that both her parents died in 1997, so she really doesn’t have any reason to visit Warren anymore, outside of our high-school reunions, I suppose.
We received another interesting piece of mail today. A wedding invitation. Sandra Kay Richardson and Charles John Stark. When I saw the return address, I thought it was an invitation to another of his occasional concerts that he plays in the Madison area. The wedding is at Bethel Lutheran Church, located just a block from the capital square. You attended services there with us a few times in the late 1980s. I would guess that the ceremony will be in the chapel, since the sanctuary of this church is so large. I can’t imagine that Sandra (whom I don’t know) and Charles would have invited that many people. Unless Andy’s basketball tournament interferes, both JoAnna and I should be able to attend.
Dear Tina,
So did you head east to Warren, midsummer, for our 30th high school reunion? At the beginning of the year it was on a list of events I wanted to incorporate into my 1998 schedule. I was actually looking forward to it, somewhat of a surprise considering my rather lukewarm experiences at our 5th and 20th editions. I even imagined conversations with certain classmates: Gail Benson, Bill McGuckin, Melissa Vought. Don’t ask me why those names floated into my head.
Andy’s baseball schedule clarified our summer plans. He had a tournament scheduled for the last weekend of July, which, of course, coincided with our reunion. As it turned out, the boys and I were in Warren the following weekend, JoAnna’s ultimately successful efforts in reclaiming the state senate for the Democrats the reason for her staying home. (She’s the director of the state senate Democratic caucus.)
Once I realized I wouldn’t be attending the reunion, I wanted to get my hands on the booklet the planning committee prepares. I procrastinated for weeks, telling myself to write Rick Dies a letter. I had heard from my sister-in-law that attendance was below expectations. There’s gotta be some extra copies in someone’s closet, I figured. Guess what I received from Rick Dies one day in the mail in late August? Yes, the coveted booklet. I studied it carefully, eager to know who has grandchildren, who’s living the deluxe lifestyle, who doesn’t seem to have changed a bit since 1968. What really bowled me over – and this observation will give you an indication of just how carefully I reviewed the contents – is how many of our classmates still live in the Warren area. It’s easily more than 50%. I have to admit that I have come to appreciate Warren a lot more than I did in high school – its history, its architecture, its foothills setting – but I can’t imagine myself ever living there. During the 20 years I’ve lived in Wisconsin, I’ve become a tried-and-true Midwesterner, even though my Packer allegiance is still pretty weak.
What a strange Christmas letter, you must be thinking. Admittedly, it’s very self-indulgent, but it is inspired by you, Tina. I think it would be fun to talk on the phone some evening and catch up on each other’s life. Mine has been very good. JoAnna and I have a wonderful relationship and, as you can see from the enclosed photograph, we have two handsome boys who add so much to our lives.
I hate to end this letter on a downbeat note, but I find that Mike (Foster) regularly walks through my thoughts. The last time I talked to him was in 1975, when he confessed to me that he way gay, a fact that I had been aware of, in an unspoken way, since the summer after high school.
I still miss him after all these years. In spite of all his idiosyncrasies and his high-maintenance personality, he was a wonderful friend.
I send along my sincere best wishes for the new year.
