On This Date in 1999 (January 2, Part 1)

I woke up Friday morning at 3 o’clock, after falling asleep sometime before midnight. We let the boys watch TV once we returned to the cabin, and I can remember JoAnna calling out, “Time to go to bed!”, which caused me to lift my head from the pillow and scan my surroundings so I could answer the question, “Where the hell am I?” I’m not sure if I gave a correct answer before drifting off to sleep again.

Once I was awake, I wanted to leave right away, but I repressed this impulse and tried to go back to sleep. After a half hour of staring into space, I whispered to JoAnna, “Hon! Hon! Let’s leave now.” She wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet.

“Let’s rest for awhile.”

She couldn’t sleep either, but even in her groggy state, she had the good sense to keep us in bed. It would have been foolish to start our trip four hours before daylight. I’m such a road warrior!

After dozing off a few times, I got up at 5:15 and washed my greasy hair. It seems no matter how short I wear it, I always have to wash it every day, unless I want to look like a derelict. While JoAnna roused the boys out of bed, I stuffed our two duffel bags into the back of the van, not caring about rear-mirror visibility. I wasn’t pleased to find a fresh cover of four inches of snow on the ground, with more falling from the sky at a pretty good pace. It’s going to be some tough sledding during the first part of our trip, I thought.

And I was right. Once we made the left turn onto U.S. 62, I strained my eyes to see the road. It wasn’t so much the snow than our defective, or perhaps just frozen, windshield wipers. I kept our speed at 30 mph and steeled myself for the stress of slippery roads and wind-blown snow. We encountered very little traffic so I took advantage of the opportunity to straddle the center line while driving. During the stretch of NY17 between Jamestown and Bemus Point, numerous ghosts swirled in front of the windshield, their brief reducing visibility to zero for a few disconcerting seconds. For awhile, I thought we were a supporting cast members of a snowbound sequel of Casper.

Curious about what we were driving into (or, hopefully, out of), I tuned in a radio station from Jamestown hoping to hear a weather forecast. The disc jockey talked about 3 feet of fresh snow on the ground in Sheridan, New York, which JoAnna was unable to find in our Rand McNally Road Atlas. Knowing where New York’s snow belt is located, I figured (hoped and prayed) that it was north of us. We also heard that the New York Thruway between the New York state line and Lackawanna was closed. What about the Pennsylvania stretch of I-90, I wondered. How bad can things get?

Not too bad, fortunately. The interstate was open, but snow-covered and probably slippery, but I didn’t go fast enough to find out. Road conditions didn’t improve until we reached the west side of Cleveland. Through the western two-thirds of Ohio and Indiana, we were able to make up for some lost time. We encountered some lake-effect snow driving through the western suburbs of Chicago, which we hoped wasn’t the leading edge of a storm blowing out of the Great Plains. It wasn’t. We returned home at 5:30 p.m. CST, 12½ hours on the road and five minutes into the second quarter of the Rose Bowl.

We turned on the TV as soon as we entered the house. I did get the van unpacked but this morning most of the suitcases remained filled. During halftime, I drove to the grocery store to pick up some basics – milk and bread – but I found the door locked, even though all the lights were on. They had closed at 5:00. JoAnna’s top priority was reorganizing the kitchen cabinets, which she was able to accomplish by the end of Wisconsin’s extremely satisfying 38-31 victory over UCLA. I should have bet some big bucks on this game. A simpleton could have looked at the scores of the games that UCLA played this season and predicted a Rose Bowl loss for them. They have no defense. Wisconsin may not have a quarterback – Mike Samuel has been an object of constant abuse during his collegiate career – but they do have Ron Dayne and one of the best defense units in NCAA division I football. The Big 10 had a great bowl season, going 5-and-0. Most sports dorks, partial to southern schools, will consider it a fluke.


Right now we’re in the middle of our first major winter storm of the year. Snowing, blowing, stay-at-home conditions. We’ll probably end up with 6-8 inches on the ground before the end of the day, and more is predicted for Sunday. If we had left Warren today, we’d probably be looking for a motel right about now (2 p.m.).

In spite of the treacherous weather conditions, Andy still played his first basketball game of the season. His team beat Verona 40-19, and Andy didn’t look as though he had spent the last two weeks in front of a TV set. He only scored 2 points but pulled down 5 rebounds. Middleton played very well together and look like they’ll be a contender for the league championship.

The boys are out sledding at Elm Lawn right now. We made sure they were well protected against the elements. JoAnna’s in the kitchen baking and watching the Bills get beat by the Dolphins. (It looks like Doug Flutie’s magic season is about to come to an end.) The card party we’re invited to is still on for this evening. In fact, that’s one of the reasons JoAnna’s in the kitchen. She took a page out of Kim’s cookbook and is making stromboli.

We had a wonderful vacation, probably one of the best Christmas holidays in memory, but it certainly is nice to be home. I thought the house had a strange feel to it when we returned yesterday, as if it had been standing vacant for months instead of two weeks, but that’s probably just an indication of how special our getaway was.

On This Date in 1998

I wanted a change ot scene so I drove an alternative route during most of the trip back to Middleton. I took one of my favorite (and most familiar) stretches of highway in Pennsylvania, U.S. 62 between the Buckaloons and Oil City. To pass the time, the boys and I played a game of Jeopardy. Andy picked the categories – psorts, states, cities, (musical) groups, movies, TV shows – and I made up the questions. Groups for $300. What group sang about Michelle, Anna, and Lady Madonna? The Beatles, an answer the boys missed, as they are more familiar with the earliest Beatles songs. Sports for $200. What quarterback led the Green Bay Packers to their first two Super Bowl victories? Andy knew it was Bart Starr.

After a pit stop at the Barkleyville interchange, we hopped onto Interstate 80 and soon found ourselves crawling along at less than 10 miles an hour due to a road construction delay. It felt as though we were in rush hour traffic. Fortunately, it lasted for only 15 minutes.

We took U.S. 30 through the western half of Ohio, the first 1090 miles a mostly straight stretch of two-lane highway except for bypasses around Bucyrus and Upper Sandusky. Traffic was moderate but moved along at a pace just above the speed limit. Our destination was Van Wert, just 13 miles east of the Indiana state line. But with light still in the skiy and my butt glued to the driver’s seat, we continued onward to the west side of Fort Wayne and checked into a Holiday Inn with a pool and activity area, just like South Bend, much to the boys’ delight. We played around in a swimming pool strewn with big plastic noodles, which was helpful for Eddie since the water was 7 feet deep at one end. Andy and I played ping-pong, and I bought the boys $5 worth of tokens to play video games. Back in the room ,the boys settled in front of the TV (big surprise!) while I went out to find a convenient drive-through. A McDonald’s was located less than a block away.

We continued our trip at 9 a.m. Monday morning. We drove 20 miles west on U.S. 30, which is a four-land divided highway across the length of Indiana, before stopping for breakfast at a Bob Evans in Columbia City. Eddie ordered pancakes off the kids’ menu but ate only two bites, plus the one strip of bacon served with his order. He seemed lethargic and slightly pale, so I wondered if he might be coming down with something. Andy ordered lunch, a kids’ pizza with alphabet-shaped deep-fried potatoes, and a lemonade, which he found too sour for his taste. I considered an omelet, but everything pictured on the colorful menu looked like too much food, so I settled for an order of 2 eggs over easy, fried potatoes, and toast. Eddie did eat one piece of my toast.

The trip through Chicago around noontime was a breeze. No delays anywhere. The section of Interstate 94 that arcs around Chicago was a different story. The portion of the highway we saw in northwestern Indiana was moving at a snail’s pace. And the traffic looked to be mostly semis. In an interesting, but frustrating reversal of typical road conditions, the loser we got to Rockford, the worse the traffic became. It seemed to be a combination of stalled vehicles and road construction. The delays caused us to push back our expected time of arrival 45 minutes. Originally, I had predicted 2:30. We pulled into the driveway at 3:10.

The boys immediately plopped themselves in front of the TV while I unloaded the car, unpacked the suitcases, started a load of wash, and then removed an assortment of debris – gum wrappers, half-empty bottles of Mountain Dew, little football and baseball helmets, crumpled napkins, etc. – from every surface of the Saturn. At 5:00, we left for Cross Plains, so Andy could pick up his football equipment. At first I thought I’d hear a complaint from Eddie, but he almost sprang off the couch when I told him it was time to leave.

This excursion took longer than I expected. We didn’t return home until 7:00. Along with Eddie, the back seat contained a helmet, jersey, pants, shoulder pads, knee pads, hip pads, and a tailbone pad. Did I forget anything? When Andy had put on all his gear, just to make sure everything fit, he looked as though he had aged a quick two years.

JoAnna, of course, was happy to see us all. After she made some phone calls for one of her candidates and I did some grocery shopping, the four of us went out to Dairy Queen for a treat.

I was up early Tuesday morning g. At 5:30. Already back into the routine, what with laundry and shopping Monday evening, I was on the Walkfit before 6:00, listening to music and watching Sport Center with the sound off. For the first time this summer, I was the first to arrive at work. I was at my desk a few minutes past 7:00. I had lots of mail to look through, 380 email messages waiting for me (most of which I immediately clicked into the trash), then prepared myself for the three meetings I would be attending during the day: Dane County librarians in the morning, Wisconsin Library Association Personnel Committee in the early afternoon, and a library board meeting in the evening. It was a long day. The boys went to work with JoAnna as Andy had a physical at 10:15. We had to schedule one with our previous pediatrician, who now practices in Fitchburg, a south suburb of Madison, as our current one was booked into October when I called for an appointment three weeks ago. Andy had to have a physical before his first practice yesterday, and, to my great relief, the Middleton Clinic made the referral for us. Otherwise, I would have had to get down on my knees and beg and plead.

The boys spent the first half of the afternoon at home alone. When I stopped by for lunch after my second emoting, it was obvious that they had been occupying every room of the house at one time or another.

“Why do you guys have to watch TV in our bedroom?” I asked them in exasperation, after picking up a half-empty glass of milk in the bathroom, the residue of Chips Ahoy cookies on the surface of the milk and sides of the glass.

I wanted to get back to work but waited around until Andy’s ride to practice arrived. I was afraid he would forget the form the doctor signed, certifying that he was fit to play. And sure enough, he would have. It might have been a good lesson for him to watch the practice from the sidelines.

Eddie didn’t want to accompany me to the library, so I dropped him off at his chosen destination. The Middleton pool, which provide a convenient “babysitting” service. JoAnna picked him up there. After the two of them had something to eat, they went to pick up Andy and Drew at practice. I couldn’t wait to get home to ask how things went, so I called JoAnna right after the board meeting adjourned at 7:45.

“He liked it,” she reported. “He looked really good. I’m surprised how fast he is.”

Andy always complained whenever he had to run the mile in 3rd and 4th grade gym class, and running is a big portion of this week’s football practices.

“We didn’t only do running, Dad”, Andy told me during a conversation about his first practice after I returned home from work. Before going to sleep, he clipped stories and statistical summaries from the day’s sports pages of The Capital Times and taped them on one of the walls next to his bed. Close to ten o’clock, he was still wearing his practice jersey, although he didn’t wear it to bed.

Eddie still isn’t sleeping in his own room. He slept on the floor next to his brother’s bed last night and on the futon on the night before. Yesterday evening, he started to work on a large drawing with a prehistoric theme (i.e., dinosaurs, which haven’t been in his repertoire lately.)

It sure didn’t take long to get back into the old swing of things.

The boys and I enjoyed our visit. Last night, JoAnna suggested, without prompting, that we go to Pennsylvania for Christmas, but we haven’t work out the dates yet.

On This Day in 1998: Monday, March 23

Considering the number of times Andy called you last night, I should probably offer to pay my folks’ new phone bill. He certainly was all fired up about the game. I knew the outcome without asking as soon as I heard his groan of disappointment at 11:05. What a heartbreaking loss, huh?

On Friday morning before I dropped the boys at school, Eddie’s thoughts were not yet completely focused on the trip. While taking care of my last-minute packing, I overheard him say to Andy, “ wish we could leave on Saturday.” Once he considered the full impact of leaving school early, he realized he’d be missing art class.

“But Eddie, if we left tomorrow, we wouldn't be able to stay in a motel,” I explained.

Suddenly art class wasn’t so important anymore.

Eddie repeatedly reminded me to bring along my Walkman. He didn't mention what music he wanted to listen to, so I offered, “Let’s take the Beatles tapes.” We listened to the early Beatles between Rockford and Chicago, the boys impressed with my ability to sing along with every song, rarely stumbling over the words.

During Saturday’s road trip, Eddie listened to the first side of the early Beatles tape three times. He bobbed his head in time to the music and sang the words to some of the choruses. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” That bit of exuberance brought a quick cry of “Be quiet, Eddie” from his brother, who was quizzing Dad with questions from the newest edition of Trivial Pursuit.

The Holiday Inn where we stayed in South Bend is literally a flying leap from the Interstate. Due to he placement of the exit, we had to drive a circuitous two miles in a driving snow on slushy streets before reaching the front door to the motel.

The boys were so excited about getting to the swimming pool that they dashed away with the plastic card to open the door to our room before I had a chance to gather up the luggage I had dumped at my feet. They found their way to room 212 without incident, but I did have a talk with them about the importance of responsible behavior – not getting all wrapped up in the excitement of the moment. For the rest of the evening, I didn’t have a single problem with them.

The arrangement at the South Bend Holidome is similar to the one in Stevens Point, although where we stayed the pool was completely enclosed, separated by a glass wall from the arcade. Although I saw no signs to confirm this, it appeared that motel management preferred that guest not use the arcade area in their dripping wet or completely dry swimwear. I observed everyone there wearing street clothes.

The pool was 4’8” at its deepest, and the shallow end was indeed very shallow, so Eddie didn’t need to wear his floatation device. At this request, we had left it in the room anyway. After battling some of the ruggedest Chicago rush-hour traffic I’ve ever encountered and dealing with snowy and slippery condition during the last hour of the trip – we counted at least a half dozen cars that had skidded or spun off the road – I enjoyed the therapeutic effects of the warm pool water. I was ready to stretch out on a poolside chaise lounge when the boys announced that they were done with their swim.

I think that Andy was secretly hopig that the snow would keep us stranded in South Bend for an extra day. He and Eddie had made a few acquaintances Friday evening, which made our present location, in his mind, the best place to be. He exhibited some resistance as I pushed to get us on the road. You know the symptoms. The elongated, “Nooooo!” in answer to any question. Whining. A scowl upon his face. Fortunately, it was a short-lived performance.

We stopped at a Bob Evans for breakfast. Andy, of course, ordered lunch. Eddie inhaled his bacon but only nibbled at the edges of his silver dollar pancakes. My entrée was not quite a scramble, not quite an omelet, but included eggs, diced potatoes, sausage, gravy, and grated cheese. Not the healthy heart selection either.

Our Saturday road trip was uneventful. Andy slept for on hour. Traffic was surprisingly light.

The road trip continued.

Grandma greeted the boys with a shriek of delight, her day-long, pent-up expectations bursting forth like water breaking through a dam. Grandpa got up out of his chair in the dining room, shuffled to the edge of the carpet, and stood unsteadily in the doorway. Even though his eyes were teary, I had the strange, unsettling sensation that he wasn’t quite sure what all the commotion was about. I thought I heard him mumble something about “going to” rather than “coming from”. His confused condition, his obviously worsening case of Parkinson’s, put a damper on the initial moment of reunion for me.

Naturally, Grandma had the dining room table set and dinner just about ready to be served. She had prepared two casserole dishes: one mostly cubes of chicken with dressing pressed into a baking dish, the other a very tasty spinach-and-rice combination.

After supper most of us remained around the dining room table to play Trivial Pursuit, at Andy’s request. The Pennsylvania team beat Wisconsin.

Sunday morning I debated whether or not to be the dutiful son and attend church with Mom, but instead I took an hour-long walk, picking up a New York Times along the way. When I returned home, Dad was sitting alone, in silence, in the living room. I joined him there to read the paper, but the quite soon started to spook me. (Dad is very close to the point where he can no longer carry on a conversation.) I asked him if he wanted to watch TV. He surfed for awhile, demonstrating some remaining manual dexterity, but found nothing of interest. I offered to put on a CD. I selected a Mozart recording and that seemed to momentarily perk him up. I saw a hint of life in his face.

Sunday, January 19, 1992

We eat breakfast, pack the van, and hit the road by 10:30.  The road is snow-covered and probably slippery to Washburn, a 12-mile stretch.  After that conditions are variable.  The dusting of snow that fell earlier during the morning creates a white-out effect whenever cars, and especially trucks, pass in the opposite direction.  I drive as far as Stevens Point, where we stop for take-out at McDonald's and to put some air in a much too soft left rear tire.  We return to Middleton at 5, and the boys are so happy to see us.  It's obvious, though, that they had a great time with Cindy and Mayra.  In fact, Eddie starts to fuss when Mayra approaches the front door to leave.