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Dear Gathnetters, <br>I couldn't resist answering Jon's very good
description of life in the east. His story reminds me of Cathy and
my beloved "pond" also known as the "swamp" which existed behind the
Stienkist home and the Johnson's. These were our neighbors to the
south in Lorraine Street in Glen Ellyn, IL. This pond was not near as
deep as Jon's but to me expecially, it was a point of endless
pleasure. Sailing boats in the summer and skating in the winter.
(Although the houses is gone, the pond has been upgaded a bit and is a
beautiful garden spot among all of the mansions that have replaced our
modest homes.) I also remember that I was always playing out there and
had to wear my boots. And as you can imagine, I always came in the
house with very wet feet. Either going deeper than my boots would let
me or causing a leak in the boots and allowing pond water to soak my
feet.<br>
<br>
But..... I hate to tell you folks from the east that we have been
enjoying 80 degree temperatures these days. It is a good time of year
here in southern California. Crystal clear air (here in the
mountains), warm temperatures and our wonderful well supplying us with
clear good tasting water from deep in the ground. In spite of the
desperation of the state government to spend beyond ts means, being
retire here has been very good. No snow to shovel, not ice to drive on
and no heating bills to pay. Also no heavy cloths to buy. Every thing
is just great until the next bout with fires.<span class="moz-smiley-s6"><span> :-[ </span></span><br>
<br>
Jon's story reminds me of my experience with falling into Lake Ellen in
the midst of trying to plow the snow from the lake. If you have heard
this story before, just skip to the end.<br>
<br>
Back in the old days, I use to work with my Grandfather, John Gathman
in the Glen Ellyn Park District. The story opens on dark night with
the skating lights on and I was assigned the "walk behind" tractor with
an attached plow to clear the snow from areas where it wasn't safe to
take the truck or jeep with a big snow plow. It was really fun I
thought, running a tractor with a plow on a beautiful night. I was
dressed up warmly so the cold wasn't a problem. Grandpa was back in
the furnace room of the old boat house keeping the fire going etc.
Grandpa was trying to take the place of my father who had been killed
in Germany in WWII. We worked together many times and I warmly
remember the times we were together. Anyway,, as I was plowing along,
all of a sudden there was a huge "crack" and the tractor, plow and I
all went into the lake. It was very very cold I remember. I managed
to get to shore (I don't remember how) and draged myself to the furnace
room through the dark. Poor Grandpa, he grabbed me and got me close
to the furnace to warm me up. I am sure now he was wondering how he
was going to tell my mother about the accident. Mom was still not
recovered from the loss of my father and the potential of this loss
would have been very bad to say the least. Anyway, after I had warmed
up a while, Grandpa got me into his 1937 "machine" (ford) and drove
me home. I got to a warm bed and was fast asleep immediately. I guess
the were later in the daylight to hitch a rope on the tractor and pull
it from the lake. Just a memory flashing into an old man's mind when
thinking of ponds and ice.<br>
<br>
Love to you all, <br>
<br>
der alte Grossvater<br>
<br /><hr />Windows Live™: Keep your life in sync. <a href='http://windowslive.com/explore?ocid=TXT_TAGLM_WL_t1_allup_explore_012009' target='_new'>Check it out.</a></body>
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