A Day to Remember

Dear Gentle Reader,
Friday the 13th, 1961. That was a wonderful day, and I’ve never had reason to be superstitious about Friday the 13th. We were living in an eight by thirty-five-foot mobile home ("trailer," in those days) in a tiny Iowa village, when our first son decided it was his entry-day.

The maternity ward of the local hospital had just been remodeled, and we arrived about 7 a.m. My husband was a teacher, and after getting me registered and settled in a room, he left to teach his classes. He returned during the noon hour, just in time to watch through the doorway as John Kenneth was ushered into the world. Having been given a saddle block, I was fully conscious and very surprised to have given birth to a baby with blond hair. (All the photos I’d seen of newborn babies must have shown dark hair.) Since I had been blond as a child myself, I should't have been surprised, but I was.

He weighed 7 pounds exactly, and was such a sweet little bundle. The day before had been very balmy for a mid-January day in Iowa, and I had taken a long walk. It’s strange how one remembers so many details about momentous days, but scarcely remembers anything about weeks preceding or following those days. We spent three days together in the hospital, getting acquainted. I feel sorry for today's moms who get sent home with their babies 24 hours after giving birth!

John moved with us around the country a lot during his childhood--to Iowa City, then the Davenport area, to Sunnyvale on the West Coast, and Palo Alto. From California, we moved east to Madison, Wisconsin, and then successively to two suburbs of Milwaukee. Before he was 10 years old, John had lived in eight different communities and attended school in three different school districts. Good thing he was adaptable!

Now he’s a parent and has done significant traveling himself. In his thirties, he walked the entire Appalachian Trail, from Georgia to Maine, in one season. Then he and his wife traveled to China to adopt their daughter, Alice Beth. A few years later they went to Korea and brought back Justin. Both children were just one year old when they were adopted; now they’re 8 and 5 respectively.

After several years of practicing law, John decided to take "the road less traveled." He’s gone into the coffee business, roasting and selling coffee, both retail and wholesale. His wife has her own career as an optometrist, and it’s quite fascinating to watch them juggle their jobs and their family responsibilities. They do it really well.

It’s possible that I’m biased, but I think John's a fine person. I’m very proud of our son.