Category: Storyworth (Page 7 of 7)
It’s Tourist Thursday with plans to visit the Ringling Brothers Museum. Unlike last week’s adventure in the sticky heat and humidity, this will be at least air conditioned. There is so much circus tradition in this community that this is a must-do activity. I’m sure that I’ve visited before but that was at least 55 years ago. My grandmother was a big fan of the circus clown Emmett Kelly who portrayed the hobo character “Weary Willie.” He was the subject of several of her paintings. I’m still curious about Grandma Grace’s attraction to this character. Apparently, Kelly often referred to Indiana as his home – grandma was from Elwood, Indiana. I found this article in Lafayette Indiana’s Journal and Courier newspaper:
“In 1942, he (Emmett Kelly) joined Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey, where he performed until 1956. While there, he appeared in the movie “The Greatest Show on Earth.” His most famous routine was taking a battered broom and sweeping the spotlight that was trained on the sawdust floor, until it grew smaller and smaller, then went out.”
“Following his departure from the circus, Kelly worked in nightclubs, indoor circuses, trade shows and resorts. He performed for such world figures as Queen Elizabeth, Winston Churchill and President Truman.”
“Kelly also appeared in Broadway plays, on television and in the movies. In 1956, he clowned with the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team.”
“In 1957, he joined the Shrine Circus and eventually settled in Florida and continued appearing in commercials and on special shows until he was 80.”
“He died on March 28, 1979 (in Sarasota, Florida – home of the Ringling Brothers Museum). His grave (between mother and sister) is in Lafayette’s Rest Haven Cemetery, west side of Sagamore Parkway.”
“OK, then, why Lafayette?”
According to Kelly: “I haven’t had a stationary home since going with the circus,” he said, “but since my parents lived in Lafayette about 25 years ago and my sister lives here now, I always claim it as home.”
“Kelly and his character “Weary Willie,” the perpetual underdog, were inducted into the Clown Hall of Fame in 1989. Kelly analyzed his success this way: “By laughing at me, the audience really laughs at themselves and realizing they have done this gives them sort of a spiritual second wind for going back into the battles of life.”
Another of my grandmother’s favorites was fellow Hoosier, Red Skelton, who also had a fascination with clowns. Like Granny Grace, he painted them as a hobby. “At the time of his death, his art dealer said he thought that Skelton had earned more money through his paintings than from his television performances.” Skelton considered himself to be a clown – his life’s work to make people laugh.
My grandmother had a great sense of humor and loved to laugh. This is why clowns like Emmett Kelly and Red Skelton were such a big part of her life. Hopefully, my sister still has a couple of her paintings.
Some childhood memories popped up this morning through the “I Grew Up in Elkhart Indiana” Facebook page. It was a thread all about Carolyn Avenue, the street that I grew up on. I lived there from adoption through the fifth grade before moving to the other side of town. I attended Rice Elementary school, with only one busy street to cross on my uphill walk to classes. Teacher names like Miss Graham, Mrs. Anderson, Mrs. Wilkens, Mr. Havens, and Mr. Collins come to mind, as well as several neighbors. The Krider family lived next door, across the street were the Herzbergs, and just down the block on Baker Drive, the Ongs. Several other names like the Smiths, Conns, and Morrows also brought back distant memories.
The house hosted my mom’s bridge club and Indian Guide meetings. There was a big picture window in the living room that also served as my mom and dad’s bedroom. We typically gathered downstairs to watch TV, open Christmas presents, or pretend we were operating a store in the cardboard house that we put together from a kit one year. The other side of the lower level was unfurnished and a bit spooky, where the furnace lived. I could dribble the basketball around it if I ducked to avoid the pipes. The only bathroom was upstairs.
I remember the park behind our house and the creek that kept me contained to the neighborhood. The dirt hill that ran beside my bedroom window was an access road to the park but served as a toboggan run in the winter. City park volunteers would keep us busy with arts & crafts, treasure hunts, and games. There was a basketball goal, playhouse, monkey bars, swings, a baseball diamond, and picnic tables, as I recall. Bad memories included a tree limb that fell on me, a rock that I failed to dodge, a sharp stick in the eye, and an escaped panther from the circus that haunted my dreams. The creek was alive with turtles, frogs, and polliwogs. It was a great place to grow up.
My neighbors taught me about baseball card and coin collecting that have become lifelong hobbies. I got my first kiss in that neighborhood and played strip poker one day. I also learned all about the stock market and ticker tapes that enabled me in later life to eventually buy my first car. Weaver’s Market was within walking distance but much easier to get to by bicycle, with cards attached to the spokes with clothes pins to make it sound more like a motorcycle (Although motorcycles lost their appeal when my neighbor lost a leg in an accident). The neighbor on the other side had a sailboat and convinced my dad to own one, too. It was a great place to grow up in the fifties – Carolyn Avenue.
Fourteen years ago, when my parents were both still alive, the family gathered at a neighborhood park and planted two small trees, including a red maple and a ginkgo. Appropriately, the gingko was one of my dad’s favorites, plus he grew up on Maple Street. My sister and I were both adopted by them and had families of our own when the ceremonial planting took place. Since that time the maple has been replaced several times, but the ginkgo continues to survive. It turns a golden color this time of year. At it’s base, we buried a time capsule that included this poem:
The Family Tree
May it grow tall,
Roots big and strong.
Branches of love,
Sprout many years long.
Shade in the summer,
Color each fall.
New leaves come spring,
For enjoyment by all.
Where birds will nest,
And squirrels will play.
This truly is,
A magical day.
Only we know it’s special,
For you Mom and Dad.
For all you have given us,
For the good lives we’ve had.
We stand here together,
With the love we all share.
And planting this Ginkgo,
Is a family affair.
The root of our being,
Your marriage has sewn.
From your guidance and love,
Our families have grown.
October 28, 2006
Ginkgo Tree planted especially for Burt
And Cathy Johnston
Copyright 2006 johnstonwrites.com
I spoke with my sister yesterday and reminded her of the time capsule and the anniversary of the planting. Her kids were there when we added the contents, but neither of us can remember what was included. She doesn’t live too far from the park, so I’m hoping she can get her kids together and dig it up, maybe add more things before replacing it in its rightful spot. Our parents, Burt and Cathy, both died in 2014, eight years after the tree was planted. There’s a photo that I will dig out for next year’s anniversary.
I’ve since discovered the identity of my birth parents, so I spend a lot of time with my Ancestry family tree, searching for clues about my existence and genetic ties. However, it’s not nearly as meaningful as this living monument to the people that loved and raised me. I honor them today with this memory of our lives together. Miss you, Mom and Dad!
My mind has been bubbling with thoughts of Disney World and all that time I spent in line last week. In fact, I was inspired to write this poem, my first of the new year:
A Day at Disney
There’s a line!
Another long wait.
One of those things,
That most people hate.
Instant gratification,
Is what I seek.
I need it now,
Not next week.
Impatience is,
My greatest foe.
The final score,
I long to know.
Quick rewards,
Are all I want.
I’m dying to,
Be up front.
I’m standing here,
Wasting the day.
All these people,
Are in my way.
Another hour of life,
Has idly passed.
When will I get,
On this ride, at last.
It’s not moving,
I’m going nowhere.
Could someone please,
Get me a chair.
Time is ticking,
I’m seeing Red!
There must be a way,
To get ahead.
My feet are sore
I‘m starting to tire.
Maybe I should,
Start screaming “fire!”
Copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com
I’m taking the road to the Oregon Coast this morning, hoping to avoid the 98 degree high expected this afternoon. It should be at least 20 degrees cooler near the Pacific. It’s also enjoyable to drive the winding road through the Coastal Range to get there and back. It reminds me of a roller coaster, twisting through the Tillamook Forest alongside the Wilson River. It will take a little over an hour-and-a-half to get to my friend’s home on Netarts Bay. We went kayaking the last time I visited, but the dogs will go with me this time. My friends have two big Labradoodles named Quincy & Zane that my schnauzers Tinker & Tally look up to – way up to!
Rog and I went to high school and I.U. together, so our friendship goes back at least 50 years. Last year at this time we went to the College World Series in Omaha to watch Oregon State win the national title. He and his wife moved out to the Coast two years ago and they use our guest room as “home base” when they come into Portland for events like Jason Mraz and Hamilton. Just before they sold their Portland home, we all did a retirement river cruise from Paris to Normandy. Another memorable experience was our trip to the Maui Classic to watch I.U. play basketball. This was actually before my wife and I moved to Portland. I also fondly recall some “bachelor” trips to Mt. Bachelor for skiing. My son Adam even joined us on one of those occasions. I’m looking forward to today’s visit where perhaps we’ll plot our next great adventure.
My son and his family are headed to Disney World this afternoon. I was able to set them in a nearby condo as part of our Marriott Vacation Club ownership. We’re also using it for both my step daughters honeymoons – one is already set up for Maui later this year. It’s an investment that’s been useful for our entire family and something that’s being passed down through our will. We’ve already enjoyed luxury lodging in Phoenix, Bangkok, Phuket, and Maui in the short time we’ve been involved. Tonight, however, the dogs and I will be bumming off my close friends – the much more affordable “Rog Vacation Club,” at the end of the roller coaster.
I like the phrase “roots and wings” when it comes to describing genealogy. With every family tree, there are the welcome new additions as more roots sprout to support those who have earned their wings and flown from the nest. In my case, it’s the Jerry Banister Family tree that keeps me busy accounting for all these comings and goings. It’s a tedious process trying to distinguish who’s who, so thankfully I have help. People that have been working on the Ban(n)ister lineage for 30 or more years have indicated that the family was often times not very creative in naming their children. As a result, there are too many first names of William and James to properly identify one Banister from another.
I’m a newcomer in “Banister World,” and trying to play catch-up from being a Johnston for most of my life. However, thanks to modern day DNA technology, the story of my birth and subsequent adoption is becoming less murky. I am clearly genetically linked to Charles B. Bannister (1875-1940) and his brother Henry Otis Banister (1879-1921). They would both be considered to be my great, great, grandfathers. Charles B. links to Cecil Ralph Banister through his son Arlie Adam, while brother Henry connects with Ivan Otis and daughter Edna Faye. If my family math is accurate, this would make Edna and Cecil third cousins at the time when I was “accidentally” conceived.
To be quite honest, as an adopted child I never paid much attention to inner family relationships. For the record, the genetic risk associated with second cousins having children is almost as small as it would be between two unrelated individuals, let alone third cousins. Consequently, this does not account for any of the “drain bramage” that some of you may associate with my bazaar behavior. However, considering presumed misaligned heath concerns, marriage between first cousins is legal in only about half of American states. Just out of curiosity, I copied this explanation from The Spruce:
What Is a Cousin?
There are many degrees and types of cousins. While first cousins are close relatives, second and third cousins are not. Here are a few definitions:
- a first cousin: the child of your aunt or uncle (your parent’s sibling’s child) is your first cousin
- a second cousin: the child of your parent’s cousin is your second cousin
- a cousin once (or twice) removed: a cousin separated by a generation (for example, your parent’s cousin is your cousin once removed)
- third cousin: the children of your parent’s second cousin
The chances are that you know and spend time with your first cousins. You may happen to know your second cousins. But unless you have a particularly large and close family, you may never have met third or fourth cousins or cousins who are once or twice removed. In the case of Indiana where I was born, first cousins once removed can be married only if they are over a certain age or cannot bear children. With regard to my inferred birth parents, they could have gotten married, but that’s not what happened.
All this aside, I made a few new discoveries on the Ancestry.com Jerry Banister Family tree this past week that further solidify my place in “Banister World.” Another first cousin connection on Cecil Ralph’s side of the family was revealed (shared DNA: 1,109 cM across 38 segments). This is now my #2 connection overall – the niece of my #1 match (shared DNA: 1,719 cM across 40 segments). My #3 connection, also a first cousin (shared DNA: 991 cM across 41 segments), according to the scientific charts, is linked to Edna Faye’s direct family – her niece. This is as close as I have come to confirming their presumed relationship that led to my birth. Adoption records definitely show her to be the mother, with only bits and pieces about the father. She is still alive but continues to deny what all this science can supposedly prove.
In addition, I added four more DNA relatives to my growing tree of 12,308 “members.” Some are Angels and some are Roots, but all have one thing in common – a distant connection to Laborn Banister (1801-1885). Experts have not yet found evidence of his father that some believe to be Burrel (1779-1837). This is where too many William Banister, Bannister, and even Banester identities destroyed the trail. Also, sometimes the only clue that people were related is the fact that they are buried next to each other. It’s easy to add someone else’s speculations to your family tree, but only a true professional genealogist seeks the factual details that lead to the truth.
My detective work this week also uncovered connections for second cousins, Ava Hope Simpson Crossfield Alama (shared DNA: 229 cM across 15 segments) and Gladys Marie Brooks Eikenbary (shared DNA: 221 cM across 13 segments), both falling in my Top 13 Ancestry matches. There is now a growing cluster of these folks that are related to me through the twisted Cecil Ralph branches.
As I was raised by my adoptive parents (my only true parents), I was introduced to my cousins. However, I’m not sure I really understood what a cousin was with respect to blood lines. To this day, they are still my cousins that continue to share of life-long bond of familiarity. All of my new DNA cousins might involve a natural connection but there is little of life in common. Regardless, it’s been a fulfilling experience to meet and talk with others interested in the fascinating Banister history of Angels and Roots.
I was devouring my last bite of porterhouse steak at Peter Luger’s Steakhouse in Brooklyn when I got the photo of my new baby granddaughter, Nora Grace. She is a 6 pound, 11 ounce, 19 3/4 inch bundle of cuteness. After the bacon appetizer, beers, fried potatoes, rolls, and cheesecake, I did what every retiree does to celebrate – took a nap. It can be exhausting being a grandfather thousands of miles away, so once I recovered from the delivery process, I immediately sat down to spread the news. Nora joins Gavyn and Maddux, the day after Mother’s Day, as my three little amigos. I felt guilty last night going to Gavyn’s favorite, SpongeBob SquarePants, at the Palace Theatre without him. After all, I wouldn’t even know the character if it weren’t for him. To help make up for my disloyalty, I bought him a t-shirt that says, “Best Day Ever,” knowing that today would be that day, with the planned birth of his new sister Nora. We also went to the M&M‘s store and splurged on gifts for all the kids that I’ll send along with a couple of new outfits for the baby.
I’m sure she’ll call me Grandpa J., just like the other two kids, because like any Modern Family they have several addressed by that grand title. I’m the only one that shares her last name of Johnston (J). Grace was my mother’s mother, and my son Adam’s favorite grandma, although I suppose she could have been named after Mark Grace, former Cubs’ great. I acknowledge this because Maddux is named after Cubs’ Hall of Fame pitcher Greg Maddux, since Cubs team loyalty runs in our family. Gavyn, on the other hand, probably wishes he would have been named after his hero SpongeBob SquarePants. He’s not a big baseball fan, although does have his name immortalized on a brick at Wrigley Field with his father and I – “Three Generations.” (See Post #511.)
I have to admit that I really enjoyed the SpongeBob SquarePants show, despite my concerns about its juvenile content. However, it seems to have fit my level of maturity perfectly, as many of these other recent Broadway productions have gone well over my head. The music was from Aerosmith, John Legend, David Bowie, Cyndi Lauper, and Lady Antebellum, to name a few. The Lady Antebellum song added further guilt since I had recently taken the kids to the Daytona 500 and we watched the pre-race concert by the group. It was Maddux’s first concert ever, so another memorable grandfather experience. I have also earned the title of “Disney Grandpa” (See Post #385), since the Orlando Airport is the most convenient way to visit them. As a result, we typically meet at Walt Disney World, where they are all annual pass holders. I’ll be looking forward to our first trip there with Nora Grace in several years. Hopefully, she’ll be braver than Gavyn and taller than Maddux in future visits. Maddux was always too short to ride the roller-coasters, and older brother Gavyn was afraid of the dark on their very first visits to the Magic Kingdom. Walt Disney is a much better baby sitter than I am, and as the kids have gotten older they seem to have never lost their love of the park. I know I certainly haven’t!
I’m on my own tonight, as my wife enjoys the Fox television “upfront,” where they launch new shows and discuss network programming strategy for the upcoming season. There’s a party in Central Park that I’m not invited to attend. I did catch her earlier trying to sneak a man into our room. As it turned out, they had gone to lunch at The Bacon Bar and had leftovers that needed refrigeration. Since I couldn’t join them for dinner, they felt that I might enjoy a later snack, so they stopped by unexpectedly. I was supposed to be still at lunch, so it was quite a surprise to all of us when I heard the door open. I appreciated their thoughtfulness, and will remember that logical excuse the next time I invite a woman to our room. I’m of course teasing, because I know both of them. The leftovers will have to go untouched until we get another room for my stomach. The 23 year-old son of a friend’s that I took to lunch could really pack it in, and old, Grandpa J. tried to stay step-for-step with him. I just might need my old family friend Speedy Alka-Seltzer…plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is! (See Post #201).
I will be returning to Portland tomorrow after a few great days with my son’s family. The only real issue of the trip was the need to replace a water heater at his home. Just after we hooked up in Orlando, he got a call from his neighbor, wondering about the water pouring out from under his garage door. Thankfully, that neighbor was nosy, but prevented this from being a much bigger problem, and immediately shut off the main water line just after their conversation. My son is also fortunate to have a handy father-in-law and a good friend who’s a skilled electrician. They were able to provide advice and assistance that is certainly not my forte. My only sacrifices were an injured finger, a cold shower, and some financial support. Even though there is yet some leakage to resolve, I was able to enjoy a hot shower this morning.
We stayed in Orlando for the night, so the grand kids could go to Disney World with me, but I’m certain my son was anxious to find the source of his water heater problem. It was, by far, my cheapest experience in seeing The Mouse. As I pointed out in a recent blog post (See #390), I have had my share of both working with and being a guest of the Disney family. Here’s a few quick memories:
- I did some Disney character “meet and greets” in Indianapolis in 1992, where I learned that Mickey was a girl, Minnie a smoker, and Goofy a Teamster, along with all the costume performers.
- I, along with the TV station I represented, was accused of “Whoring with the Mouse” in an Indianapolis Star newspaper article , following our partnership with Disney in conjunction with the 1992 Indianapolis 500 festivities. Mickey and friends unveiled the 1992 Cadillac Allante pace car driven by Bobby Unser.
- I have a personalized “Thanks for the Mousepitality” poster and gracious note for unexpectedly hosting the massive Disney stage vehicles after they were refused admittance into the Indianapolis 500 grounds where they were scheduled to perform. It turned out to be an oversight by security, the dreaded “yellow shirts” that often make visits to the Speedway a hassle every May.
- I first visited Walt Disney World in the 1970’s, during the first few years of it’s initial operation, a tradition that was repeated several times every year. We would travel as a family to the Orlando and Plant City area to stock up on house plants for our floral business. A long day of walking around Disney helped my son peacefully sleep in the van throughout the 21 hour drive back home.
- My family was once trapped inside the It’s A Small World ride for several hours due to an equipment malfunction, and had to wade out of the ride after listening to the song over and over and over again.
- I was there for Mickey’s 50th Birthday in 1978, for the park’s 25th Anniversary Celebration in 1996, and for my 50th Birthday Party with Eeyore in 2001, where I was stunned to witness the Jimmy Buffet song Margaritaville played on the harp at Disney’s Victoria and Albert’s Restaurant in the Floridian Resort.
- My current wife of nearly 17 years and I have been to the Orlando property together on five different occasions: May of 1999, August of 2000 & 2001, August of 2012, and May of 2014 with the grandkids. I regrettably went without her in February 2017, as part of a trip with my son and his family to the nearby Daytona 500.
- The May of 1999 trip, our first time there together, was particularly memorable because of my playful creation of “Mouse Ears” everywhere we went.
- My wife and I also visited Disneyland together in October of 2005 and had each been there on separate occasions before we were a couple.
- My son and his family have held annual passes to the park for the last four years
- My wife has a collection of Disney limoges boxes
As you can probably tell, my wife is as big of a Disney fan as I am. It’s unfortunate that once again this year, I traveled there without her. She simply hasn’t have the vacation time available to join me on my last two retirement trips to see my son, daughter-in-law, and two grand kids. Since we each had children before we were married, she would prefer not to be called “Grandma” until her two daughters have families of their own. She made last year’s trip to the Daytona 500 possible through her ticket sources, but was disappointed that we would also visit Walt Disney World without her. This year my flight was cheaper to come in through Orlando, so the family came over to meet me. It was, by far, my least expensive trip ever to the Magic Kingdom, since they all have annual passes, free parking, and member discounts. It was $113 for my ticket, $70 for lunch, a $15 Thumper and Bambi pin at my wife’s request, and $4 for a Diet Coke. That’s Disney for Five at under $200. Priceless! After all, a typical Disney vacation averages about $500 per person per day when you factor in airline, ground transportation, admission, parking, hotel, food, and souvenirs. No tipping helps, but it’s still a major investment for a family to visit for even a few days.
The rest of my expenses included the airfare to visit, family dinners, a rental car, gas and a new water heater. Disney was a bargain, until the annual pass renewal invoice comes again. They get plenty of use out of living near Disney World and I can use Marriott Rewards points in the area, that includes a breakfast buffet. I guess it’s not so cheap after all, when you’re “whoring” with The Mouse as much as we do!