Draper Days-Celebrating Utah

I did another day of service. Actually it was less than 4 hours at the Draper Days Breakfast, but after my 4 hours of service at the Race for the Cure, I can say I did a day of service. I have accepted President Erying's challenge.

My brother, John picked up Jay and me about 6am to help out with the annual Draper Days on July 16th. While we were driving out, I realized that July is a busy time for Utahns to celebrate. Provo has a huge celebration, complete with a concert and firework show and one of the biggest parades in the state the weekend of 4th of July. (Murray, Sugarhouse and Holladay also fireworks.) Last weekend, Taylorsville celebrated their annual Taylorsville Days. Next weekend, Salt Lake City will party with the biggest parade in the state and fireworks somewhere. That celebration probably started this past week with the Days of 47 royalty and Youth parade yesterday. Cottonwood Heights will also celebrate their Butlerville Days the same weekend as Salt Lake City.

For some time, the Draper Lions have sponsored a breakfast before the Draper Days parade. The Lions are a service organization. John was a member of Holladay Lions and when he moved to Sandy, he became involved with the Draper Lions. John requirted Jay and me a few years ago. This year was our third or fourth year to help John out. On the way to the park, John told us that the South Valley Kiwanis (another service organization) were helping out for the first time at the breakfast. A few were there when we arrived and helped us set up. Some more showed up just before the rush (which happens annually after the 5k race). Most left soon after we closed up shop, except for one guy named Millet (French name pronounced Mel-lay) who stuck around for clean up. He was performing with a group at noon, either at the Draper Park or somewhere close by.

When the Draper Days parade turned the corner to go around the park, I noticed an entry that a monkey that looked a lot like Curious George. A few months ago, I purchased a "Curious George" book in Spanish (I'm making a less than serious attempt to learn Spanish.), so when I saw this monkey, I knew I had to get a picture, so when I saw it on the street before the street that I was closest to, I left the tent with my cellphone that has the camera. After I took his picture, the monkey shook my hand. I am thinking that this monkey was part of a local automotive business that had an entry in the parade. Quite a few local business will have entries in the parade, including dance studios.

The Draper Days parade is not one of the biggest parades in Utah, maybe one of the bigger one in the Salt Lake Valley. Days of 47 and the Freedom Festival parade in Provo are much bigger. But the Jazz bear still showed up. Just before this picture he squirting parade watchers with confetti from a can. When he passed by the spot where I was standing, he threw out styrofoam hats. The children seemed to love both. In some ways, the Draper Days parade is a preview of the Days of 47 Parade which is held on weekend of the 24th. Some of the floats that appear in this parade will be in the Days of 47 parade.

When we done serving, Karen mentioned that she could hear the pipers. One of the men in my ward has learned to play the bagpipes recently and is part of one of the two bagpipe bands in the valley. So I left tent and waited patiently for them to go around the park. I waited by the port-a-potties. When I saw them turn the corner, I opened my cellphone. When they got closer, I got the camera really for picture taking. Just as the pipers got in view, someone walked by or out of a port-a-potty, causing me to get the tail end of the band. I know don't if Brother Buchanan and his son were apart of the group or not. I forgot to ask his wife and I don't recognize any pipers in this picture.

Last year I notice this statute. The couple portrayed looks like they are ticked off about something. The male pioneer is holding a gun and she has her arm is reaching out for handout. I walked by this statute last year, thinking that ornery people settled Draper; they trusted no one and never got the handout they wanted. When I arrived at the park this year, I realized why this pioneer couple looked so ticked off. The birds visited them and left them some handouts no human ever wants.

Holladay 4th of July 2011

The City of Holladay has done a firework show for about ten years. While it isn't a big or fancy as the fireworks in Sugarhouse, it still draws a big crowd. My brothers and I attended our first Holladay fireworks in 2003, just before Jay and I moved to the Heart of Holladay. When Jay didn't want to walk to the park (because the next day was a work day), I would watch the fireworks from the parking lot or the sidewalk in front of the condos along our street.

Last year, the City of Holladay added a parade and breakfast. It was corny, but short parade last year and I enjoyed it. It was made of neighbors and children decorated their bikes and wagons. The parade started at City Hall, went along Laney Street and entered City Hall ground by the Fire Station. This year the parade was bigger, with more families and a longer route. It started 4500 south and went down Holladay Blvd, then crossed over to 2300 East where it ended at City Hall where breakfast was served. Firemen were serving breakfast.

About 2pm, the 4th leg of the Crit started. It started on north on Holladay Blvd, turned east and went by our condo. After passing us by, the racers turned south on 2300 East. Last year, the Crit, a version of short-track speed skating for cyclists, followed the same route. It was in July, but I am not sure if it was on the 4th or if it was the fourth leg of the Crit.

As usual, the day ended with the annual fireworks in the park. But since, it was a school night, I didn't plan to go. But Jay did. So what if he had to get up early the next morning. I had put on my pajamas a few hours and the thought of putting my warm jeans and t-shirt didn't sound too well. But I did sit out on the deck and listened to the fireworks. Sometimes I could hear the music. What surprised me was that I could see the fireworks flash on the trees in front of the condo. Light can travel far.

Something about Crystal

I was looking thru some files on my flash drive and I came across this. Crystal and her mom, Jewel recently came back from a two week stay in Ecuador. They had been doing volunteer work in the orphanages there. This reminds me of one of the ways Crystal got her start in founding one of her life's callings. Service often starts with thinking of others.

January 10, 2004 - I woke up in philosophy-kind of mood this morning. Maybe this is a good thing, because it caused me to think and if I share my thoughts, it might cause someone to think or have “oh” or even “a-ha” moment.
Last night, I was out at Crystal’s house again. The young woman (nine and half) had just come back from Hawaii after being there for almost two weeks. She had another time of her life. Crystal brought goodies back for almost everyone (and some for herself.) Postcards and bracelet for friends, t-shirts for the brothers and Dad, candles for Mom and Mom’s friend down the street. (Mom’s friend also spoils Crystal.) Crystal even bought me the chocolate macadamia nuts, I wanted from Hawaii. (Tell me who the spoiled one is here). And she knew her brothers would go nuts over the chocolates. (They were gone before I got there last night.)
On the way home, I thought of the compliment that I got on Christmas and five years ago.* And I realized that is what Crystal did in Hawaii. Crystal may be spoiled, but she does think of others quite regularly. I wonder if her brothers think of others like she does. Maybe Crystal thinks of others, because others think of her. It is that ripple affect.
Everyone knows of a selfish person who thinks of her/him and seldom think of others. I have noticed that selfish people can be bitter and what is sad, those around him/her are miserable. The selfish person blames others for her/his misery. So to rid yourself of misery, think of others. I am not the only one who is having problems. My co-workers have their difficulties, members of my family too. When I think of them, I know that I am not alone. When I do something for someone else, it lifts my spirits as well as theirs. And there comes the ripple effect. Maybe my thoughtfulness will cause them to think of others. And because others think of me, I am more likely to think of others. But when I surround by selfish people or associate with a selfish person, I tend to be more self-centered myself.
And so, Crystal made me think. She may be spoiled, but she does think of others. And in this selfish world, that is a good quality to have. Thanks to others who have shown her an example of thinking of others, she can have a rich life.

February 2, 2011 *can’t think of what the compliment was, but it probably something along the lines of thinking of others. Crystal cupided my door 2 years ago and one of the hearts read “u always think of others."

Getting the run around

I was sitting at the computer and for some reason, I thought of my parents in my younger years. Whenever I wanted something, I would ask my mom first since she was usually the most available parent. If it was for something that church or school, she would usually grant me permission. After all, who wants to deny a child a field trip during school hours? But if it involved money, my mom's quick response was "Go ask your Father." If dad was in the house, I would promptly ask him and he would usually say "Go ask your Mother." My dad was deaf, so he never heard my mother's response. Then I would go back to my mom and say "Dad says to ask you." I don't know if I was ever smart enough to say "Dad says it's okay.", but I have to admit I really didn't like the run around I would get. Now that I am older (don't know about wiser) I realize my Mom wasn't going to give permission unless my Dad gave his approval first. Although their responses irritated me then, now it just makes me smile when I think of getting the run around my parents. Some one had to keep me in line.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is a hard holiday for me, but I have to admit it is getting better as the years go by. My Dad passed away in February 1980, so that month is usually difficult for me, especially President’s Day weekend. But at least, with Father’s Day it is only one day. Not much happens at church; compared to Mother’s Day, it is less of a fuss. No flowers, maybe the Primary will have the children make something for their dads and sing during Sacrament Meeting. But if the congregation sings “O My Father”, I might get a bit teary eyed. That hymn was sung at my dad’s funeral. I once remember heading straight to the women’s room when that hymn was the closing song. I thought I had dealt with the death of my dad, but on that day, I realized I hadn’t.
I never really gave my dad a father’s day present. I don’t remember doing anything in Primary (which was held during the week in the 60’s and 70’s). And I don’t remember Arts and Crafts during Sunday school. But there would usually be a Father’s day program during Sunday school opening exercises. (A general meeting before we split up in our individual age based classes.) That was probably the extent of remembering my dad on Father’s day. When I went to college, I do remember buying a box of chocolates and giving it to my dad, when I made a surprise visit home. But I think that was the extent of my gift giving.
When my dad passed away, I realized I no longer had the option of giving him something on Father’s day and that has made Father’s Day hard for me. But over the years, I have learned to cope. Once I sent flowers to my brother, who is a dad to two teen age boys. Last year or maybe it was the year before, I sent flowers to my cousin so he could put the flowers on my dad’s grave. My dad is buried in the San Luis Valley of Colorado, where he grew up.
Even though my dad is gone, I can honor him by remembering the values he passed on and making a good attempt to walk in his footsteps. And when I really stop and think I realize that is something I’ve been doing all along. Something we can all do as we honor our dads on Father’s Day.

A Man I Have Never Met

I never met my paternal grandfather, Lafayette Jackson, but I have witnessed the legacy he left behind. I have seen in it my father and his siblings, my siblings and my cousins. My grandpa died when my dad was three years old, so I never got the chance to know him personally. But from what Aunt Isabelle has told me, I've learned that my grandpa was kind. Although my dad was very young, when he lost his father to cancer, my dad knew that his father loved him. And my dad loved us. My dad was a kind soul, so I know in those three short years, my dad was able to learn a lot from his father. My cousin, William Jackson, set up a blog about my grandparents. It is titled “To my Jane.” http://www.lafayettejanejxn.blogspot.com/ . Although, William hasn’t updated the blog in a year, I find that I learned more about my grandpa, a man I never met, but know.

Remembering the Students of the Tiananmen Square Massacre

On June 4, 1989, the demonstrations ended. Not by choice, but by force. Students in China had been gathering in Tiananmen Square for the past few weeks. They even built a replica of “Statute of Liberty” out of Styrofoam. They wanted democracy; even though they weren’t sure what democracy was. What they knew was it had to better than the government that was in power. Like the Mao and the communists 40 years before, they started their own revolution.
I read about the Chinese students protesting in either Time or Newsweek, whichever magazine I was subscribing to at the time. At the time I was a recent college graduate and I had attended classes with several students from China. Most of them were sponsored by their government, except for Grace. Her family, if I remember right, was paying for her education. From what I read in The Salt Lake Tribune, Grace was helping with demonstrations in China, even though still a student on the campus at University of Utah.
This weekend on Facebook, my cousin, Gary Oba, posted a picture of a sunset in China. He wrote “On June 4, 1989, Chinese soldiers, acting on orders from top leaders, attacked pro-democracy demonstrators in Beijing's Tiananmen Square leaving hundreds dead.” His words reminded me of what happen 22 years ago in China. I responded to his post with the words, “I remember reading about that and the hope and sadness I had. I like the picture you posted.” The hope was for the courage the students took in their attempt to change their world and to make a difference. The sadness was when People’s Liberation Army brought in tanks and such. The students were massacred. The demonstrations were over and the hope of democracy in China was gone. I still remember the picture of a young man standing bravely in front of a tank crawling toward him. He must have known he would die.
Then last night before I crawled into bed, I read on my Nook, the Daybook blog by Steve King. It was titled “Remembering Tiananmen”. Mr. King wrote about the massacre. When I finished reading the article, I found myself wondering if I had attended school with any of the students who were massacred at Tiananmen Square. After 22 years, I still find myself asking China “Why?”

Adventures with a Glue Bottle

While I am church, I can be found in the ward library. It is my calling. This morning, one of the Primary teachers needed some glue sticks, but since another teacher had taken all the glue sticks, she had to opt for regular glue. She picked up the first two bottles and nothing came out, but she did get lucky on her third attempt. So after she left, I grabbed the two glue bottles and a paper clip. I seen this problem earlier when I taught Sunbeams in another ward. After coming home from church, I went thru my emails I had printed and found the one I sent my friend Karie, describing my memorable adventure with a glue bottle during class.

March 8, 2009 "For one of the class activities, we made paper bracelets. And that required glue, which I had brought from home along with the scissors. I started gluing the first bracelet and the glue isn't coming out. So I got rid of the dried glue on the outside of the cap. IT still doesn't come out. I twisted the glue cap close and I am thinking the glue has hardened. I open the bottle. (Not a good thing to do around active three year olds.) The glue looked fine, but it didn't want to come out thru the cap. So I left the cap off and stuck the blade of another pair of scissors. Hey, there is more than one way to get glue out of a bottle. And not once did a Sunbeam spill the glue. They may spilled their water a few times. But not the glue bottle. I call that a miracle. After church, I washed the scissors, I think they still work. I also put the glue bottle cap under the tap. Then I got smart and stuck a q-tip in the insides of the cap. There was hardened glue stuck up there. Now the glue bottle flows freely when I squeeze it."

And yes, after Trish and I poked around and washed the caps of the glue bottles, the glue now flows semi-freely. I hope the glue doesn't hardened again, but if it does, we'll know what to do.

Bee

May 13th - On Sunday, I ended my last blog with one of my Facebook friend's post. She wrote that she had spent the afternoon and would stay overnight with her mother. She ended her Facebook post feeling as if she was in the presence of an angel. On Thursday just before I left for lunch, I dug out my Nook from my bag and logged onto Facebook. My friend's daughter (who is also a Facebook friend) wrote that she already missed Grandma Bee. After greeted with voicemails, I texted Crystal and Darren about the Facebook posting. Darren confirmed that indeed Grandma Bee had passed on when he texted back "Thanks".

May 14th - I could call Crystal and Darren's grandma "Aunt Bee", but that sounds so Andy Taylor. And like Nellie, I heard her often being called "Grandma Bee"; I was adopted by nine of her grandchildren, some of them from their birth. In some ways, Grandma Bee was like "Aunt Bea" on the Andy Griffin Show. TV's Aunt Bea cared and looked after the welfare of her nephew and his motherless son. Grandma Bee cared not only for her family; she also took those she knew under her wings. I once had the honor of taking her to one of Crystal's performances. While I wasn't family, I felt of her love and her care. I spent some time in her home and a favorite gathering place was the kitchen. It didn't matter how many children, grandchildren or guests came, there was room for all. And kindness was always spoken. Although her five children had established homes of their own, I always felt it was still home to them. When I called Jewel on Friday, she informed that her mom had saved money aside so that all her grandchildren could fly home for her funeral. 28 of 30 away from home are benefiting from this act of kindness. The two who can't are on LDS missions and will come home when their two years of service are completed. But I am sure, Elder Pugh and Elder Morris will be there in spirit.

May 18th - Abraham Lincoln's quote about his mother can apply to all moms, but I have to admit it does remind me of Grandma Bee. "All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." And if I had to pick a scripture to describe her, it would be Proverbs 31:10-28. Verse 28 sums it up quite well, "Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her." Her children, grandchildren and I hope great-grandchildren are carrying on her legacy of kindness. When I attended Scott and Kristina's wedding reception, I rode with Joy, Jewel's sister and Grandma Bee. When we enter the reception hall, Crystal who was helping out, saw us and made a beeline right for Grandma. As much as Crystal loves her aunts, Grandma Bee is her world. When I sent the Pughs flowers this week, I had written on the tag "Now I know why I called Crystal an angel; she, along with others, was taking lessons from Grandma Bee."

Crystal walked in celebration of Grandma Bee three times at the Salt Lake Race for the Cure. She now runs annually in the Salt Lake Half-marathon with family members. Those who run this event are known to race for a cause or two, just like the Race for the Cure.