The Kitchen and Dining Hall at Concordia Seminary

Imagine this massive dining room festooned with all the traditional Christmas trimmings, and long, dark wood dining tables surrounded by joyful Christians singing carols.

It'll be a short post today.  I've been browsing my favorite blogs and saw this from President Meyer's wife's blog http://respublica.typepad.com/respublica/2011/11/sod.html.  It takes me back to my "little girl days" when my grandmother was a cook at the Seminary.  She didn't drive, so on the weekends, she would either take the bus to Coulterville (where we lived) or we would go pick her up.  I loved going to get her at "The Sem."  It gave us (my siblings and me) a chance to roam the hallways, which I recall as being rather dark, and make up ghost stories about Katie Luther.  Grandma had a dorm room there, and the Katherine Luther room was somewhere between the kitchen and her room.  We were sure she (Mrs. Luther) was in there -- dressed in black no doubt.  The real highlight was getting to go to the Christmas party in Koburg Hall, grazing at the buffet (Steve ate most of the shrimp), and enjoying the beauty of the Christmas carols sung by all those men.  The sound was so rich and warm, and I hope never to forget how wonderful an experience all of it was.

A Little History Lesson For Me

I received an email from my cousin Adrienne today.  In it, she provided a link to a very cool website, Penny Postcards, which I'm sharing with you here.  If you have any interest in history and what places looked like back in "the olden days," you'll probably enjoy browsing this site.

As I was looking up places where I have lived, I learned that the Madison County Nursing Home, which was torn down in 2009, was once a poor farm.  When I saw the penny postcard of it, I couldn't place it because there's nothing else around it.  So I "Googled" it to exercise my mind and learn something.

Turns out, just before it breathed its last, it was pretty much right in the middle of town -- just a couple of blocks south of downtown Edwardsville.  Giving credit where credit is due, the 2009 photo of the poor farm above was posted on another blog by The Militant Moderate.

I also enjoyed seeing the postcard of the train depot in Sparta.  Most people who have seen this building probably didn't commit it to memory. Others who happen to recall seeing it before may be under the mistaken impression that it's somewhere down in Mississippi, since that was the setting of "In the Heat of the Night," the movie where this unassuming little depot played a starring role.

But Sparta, Illinois, not Sparta, Mississippi, is where this building still stands today. These days, it's an art museum.  I'm glad the good folks of Sparta decided to restore it rather than tear it down.


I like when old things are made new again.  After all, one of these days that will happen to me.

The Blessing of Time

My parents and I just returned yesterday from a vacation back east where we visited old friends in North Carolina and Virginia.  In an earlier post, I mentioned stopping in Cairo, Illinois at Shemwell's, the old restaurant that I remembered as a kid.  As you can see, it's a happenin' place.

We started out last Saturday from their home in Missouri and spent the night in Knoxville, Tennessee.  On Sunday morning, we drove through the beautiful Smoky Mountains before arriving in Mooresville, North Carolina that afternoon at the home of my father’s Navy buddy, Donn.



At 82, Donn is a little more than a year older than Dad.  On a typical morning, he walks three miles before returning home for breakfast.  Time changes things, though, and Dad, Mom and their friends cannot travel as easily as they once did.

On Monday, the girls did a little browsing at one of Mooresville’s antique stores while the Navy boys stayed at home and reminisced.  I saw a lot of “pretties” and bargains, but I resisted the temptation to bring anything home.

Tuesday brought the younger set to Donn and Mollie’s home. Her daughter had business to attend to in Charlotte with her husband, so Mollie offered to have her youngest grandson, Jacob, spend a few hours with us until she returned.  I enjoyed spoiling him a little bit, and he decided I was his pal.

Tuesday evening, we celebrated our reunion at a local steakhouse where the waiter was kind enough to take a snapshot of our little group, and I took a quick snapshot of two sailors.

On Wednesday morning, we had a light breakfast before heading northeast toward Stafford, Virginia to see a few more friends.

It had been years since my last visit to Aquia Creek, a tributary to the Potomac River.  Our friend Barbara lives about a mile from the confluence of the two waterways. The shores of Maryland provide the horizon on the northeast side of the Potomac.  She had a wonderful dinner ready for us when we arrived, and her three daughters, Joyce, Cathy and Connie were there to greet us.

Once again I was reminded of how time changes things.  Barbara, who is nearing her 80^th birthday, is a widow now.  Her husband, Wilson, was a gem of a guy and worked with my father in the Army’s Aviation Systems Command in St. Louis in the early to mid 60’s.

Wilson was eventually transferred to Washington D.C.  I have good memories of being with their three daughters and swimming in the creek off their dock when we traveled east to visit. The pylons remain, but I understand the dock has been gone for several years now.

On Thursday, Dad, Mom, Barbara, Connie and I headed southeast toward Chesapeake Bay.  It would have been too much of a drive to see the bay, but we had lunch at a restaurant called Leadbelly’s at Fairpoint Marina near Reedville.

Though it was a long round trip to have lunch, the food was good, and we had an excellent day.

I was glad for the reunion with Barbara and her daughters, but I especially enjoyed seeing Connie, who is closest to my age.  I was invited to spend the first of the two nights at her home.  She’s a lovely person who lost her husband to cancer 18 months ago.  It had been too long since we had seen each other (we were both in high school), so we promised to be better about keeping in touch.

Friday morning seemed to come too quickly. It was time to go home. We headed south to Fredericksburg, turned westward and enjoyed the beautiful farms in Louisa County, and then it was on toward Charlottesville.  There is so much to see in this area, but it was going to be a long drive to Winchester, Kentucky where we would stop for the night, so we didn’t stop to take pictures of the scenery.  Next time.

As we neared Charleston, we came to the White Sulphur Springs exit where I spied the lodging services sign for The Greenbriar.  I had seen pictures of it a few years back and had learned a little bit about its history, so I asked the folks if they would mind taking a little side trip into town for a quick look. They were happy for the break, and none of us were disappointed.

The Greenbriar is an amazing resort in a beautiful setting, tucked in the mountains of West Virginia. I was blown away by it’s size. One of these days I’m going back to stay for a night.

We had a truly wonderful vacation, yet there was a bittersweet chord that I knew would be present before we ever left Missouri.  As Dad left each of his friends’ homes, my heart ached for him.  Tears welled in his eyes when we said our goodbyes.  He tried very hard not to let his emotions show, but he cried as we drove away and said the words that I knew he had been thinking.  All I could do was hold his hand.

While time does in fact change things, our traveling trio had a healthy conversation about the many blessings we share as a family.  Good memories are somewhere close to the top of the list, and there was yet another blessing to add when I saw my parents happy to be home again.

Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee

Hello from Knoxville, blog friends!  I'm behind on blogging but really haven't had much to report lately.  Go to work...come home...Go to work...come home.  But life is getting more exciting by the minute.  My folks and I landed safely here in Knoxville last night after leaving East Central, Missouri for a vacation to see some old friends in North Carolina and Virginia.  Traveling with two octogenarians demands a slower pace, but with one shuffling foot in front of the other, we've been had a safe and enjoyable trip. We've done a lot of chatting and oohing and ahhing at the beauty of Tennessee's mountains. Sorry -- No pics, but we haven't made any stops in any of the mountainous parts.

I did take a picture yesterday of a restaurant where my grandparents used to stop 50+ years ago on their fishing treks to Kentucky Lake.  I'll post that photo later when I've taken more this coming week.  The restaurant is in Cairo, IL, which used to be a nice town and a good oasis for travelers at the southern tip of the state.  These days it's quite run down (and can even be dangerous at the wrong time of the night).  The beautiful architectural designs in some of the old brick buildings downtown are the remaining evidence of a once vibrant town. So sad. I always think if I had a million dollars (actually it would take more these days), I would make a big old building like one of those pretty again. Anyway, the name of the restaurant is Shemwells, and they have a legendary barbequed pork that is unequaled for miles around. I asked our waitress if they have many out-of-towners who make a special stop there because they remembered how good it was back in "the olden days."  She said that it happens all the time. They still use the original sauce, and now they also bottle it.  Of course, me being the shopper that I am, I had to buy some to take home, and got a business card so I can mail order for more when I'm ready.

We had eaten a late breakfast, so we got our sandwiches for the road. We drove for a while longer, then stopped at a "C" store for fountain drinks.  Somewhere around Clarksville, TN, we stopped to eat our sandwiches. Nothing to report from there except that it was about noon and we were in our fourth state for the day. The sandwiches were DElish!

Though we didn't stop there, as we drove through Nashville (we don't need no steenking by-pass), we all agreed that it has a beautiful skyline before turning eastward toward Knoxville.  This morning while I have coffee and blog down in the lobby of our hotel, Ma and Pa are upstairs in our room getting ready to come down for breakfast.  It smells good, and I anticipate another good meal before we hit the road to North Carolina.  Oh!  Here they are!  I'll be in touch again soon! 

Two Years

Sharing a sweet memory from September 19, 2009.  Happy Anniversary Matt and April!

Remembering Life

September 11^th.  It is a date among 364 others on our calendar.  In the wee hours of the morning on September 11, 2001, we didn’t know how significant that date would become, or how we would stop short in the years that followed whenever we heard it spoken.  Today especially, ten years later, as we hear radio messages and watch television programs recounting the events and recalling the sorrow we felt as united Americans that day, we can’t help but remember death and destruction. Things changed.  We can count, and keep counting, the things that changed because of that moment in time.

This morning, I had the sweet privilege of seeing a baby girl named Phiona become a child of God.  This precious life, adorned in a beautiful gown, knew nothing of what our loving God was doing for her in that moment.  She didn’t have to know.  She was not deserving of what was happening to her, just as no sinner merits so great a gift.  Phiona was the direct object of the verb in the sentence “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  I baptize you.  Phiona did nothing.  We are all helpless without Jesus Christ, no matter how old we are.  In his great mercy, Jesus, the Lamb of God, redeemed each and every one of us, whether we realize it or not.  It is during our Divine Service of Baptism when we are reminded of the comforting words of our Savior, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”  (Matthew 28:18)  Therefore, we can abandon any thought that we have any power.  We have nothing except that which Christ alone gives to us.

So today while being reminded of death, and of dreadful acts, and of humankind’s sinful struggle with false authority and power, we, united in redemption, can redirect our focus to life -- the eternal life which we are given in Christ Jesus.  We can remember Saint Paul’s words to the Philippians, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” looking forward to that blessed day when every knee will bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Almighty God grant you blessings in abundance on this day and every day!

Boys and Wheels

I celebrated Labor Day this past weekend in east central Missouri with my nine year old grandson, CMS, at the home of my parents.  It's always nice to have a change of scenery, and I had been wanting to take him to the lake with me for a weekend -- no [other] girls allowed.  His household has enough estrogen to sink a ship full of rhinestone tiaras and pink feather boas.  Since his dad has been working long hours six days a week, C was long overdue for some scratching, spitting and other manly pursuits that girls just don't appreciate.  Thankfully, the weather was warm enough for him to swim for a little while on Sunday, but the real highlight of his weekend centered around wheels.

If he wasn't begging his Aunt Cathy for a ride on the four-wheeler, he was driving his pal, Daisy, around on my father's golf cart.  I really enjoyed seeing him spend some one-on-one time with his great-grandpa as a shade-tree mechanic's apprentice.

The cart seemed to work just fine before the tinkering, but the aroma of gasoline was apparently too tempting and beckoned them to do a little fine tuning.  Well, I guess it did ... but I'm just a girl, so what do I know?

C and I agreed on our way home that the weekend didn't seem to last long enough.  Nevertheless, it was long enough to make some memories.


We sure had a grand time.