VERN
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| Vern at Omaha Beach American cemetery in Normandy |
Five years ago, Janice's
mother Loraine, remarried at age 85 after her husband had passed. For their honeymoon, she and brand-new-right-out-of-the-box Vern
went snorkeling off the Great Barrier Reef. In 2009, they came to visit us in France and we toured the region with them.
Earlier this month we lost 92 year old Vern after he had a stroke, fell
and struck his head on the cement driveway. He was taken to the
hospital by ambulance but within hours it became apparent that due to
the extent of his internal injuries his condition would be fatal.
While unconscious, he was medicated to keep him comfortable but he never woke and passed 3 days later on January 26th. While helping us clear out his desk, his son came across 3 explosive devices in a drawer. They were WWII igniters, initiators, triggers and the
like that he had undoubtedly brought back as souvenirs as he had been a combat engineer during the war.
The fact that they were in a small box with a note on it
that said "DANGER: live percussion igniters" got our undivided attention. (Spoiler alert: everyone lived) Like a primer, they are designed to set
off a larger charge or explosive. Knowing that the
Sheriffs department would go ballistic if I just waltzed in and laid them on the counter at
the station, I called to let let them know what I had and to ask how
they would like me to handle this.
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| Live percussion ignitor. Pull the pin, step on the plunger and let the party begin! |
It being a small town with little action for the officers, they got all dramatic and put out a radio call "LIVE BOMB REPORTED IN A SENIOR TRAILER PARK!!!!" Four police cars from the city police and Sheriff's department showed up. Not one of them had a clue what the devices were, but began discussing the possible need to evacuate the area.
Meanwhile, the officers told passing pedestrians to go around the block to get home. They in turn (over) reacted by burning up the phone lines to all their neighbors and friends, telling them there were "9 police cars and snarling dogs" and that they should lock their doors and "shelter in place".
I persuaded the officers to let cooler heads prevail and call someone from the bomb squad to come out and have a look. They did, he came and identified them as 'live percussion igniters' ( Duh, he read the note!) then put them in a metal box and drove off with them in his car. He said they would dismantle them at their next training session.
I persuaded the officers to let cooler heads prevail and call someone from the bomb squad to come out and have a look. They did, he came and identified them as 'live percussion igniters' ( Duh, he read the note!) then put them in a metal box and drove off with them in his car. He said they would dismantle them at their next training session.
The next day, I was helping my mother in law clear out more stuff from their storage shed / workshop when I came across 6 more devices that were in the bottom drawer of his tool cabinet. I took the new 'demolition firing devices' home as I wasn't about to call the circus again. I quietly called the bomb squad Sergeant and had him drop by the house to
pick them up.
You can see the one below with the pin attached and a timing device. The one at the top of the page has a convenient plunger so you can bury it, allowing someone to walk over it to trigger it or to set it up behind a door for someone to open, pushing the plunger.
You can see the one below with the pin attached and a timing device. The one at the top of the page has a convenient plunger so you can bury it, allowing someone to walk over it to trigger it or to set it up behind a door for someone to open, pushing the plunger.
Vern, you wild man you! He is now on the "no fly" list. Still, I can't be too harsh on him considering how tame these are compared to the souvenirs I have from my days in the military.....
As we continued to dispose of his property, I was struck by the fact that all the 'important' papers, souvenirs and things we save up for decades end up having so little value to those around us. In a matter of hours, the bulk of our earthly life is disposed of with nary a thought by those left behind. Meanwhile, what ever we do save will probably get disposed of by those who follow us. Only the memories remain.
Tough winter
As everyone knows, this has been a tough winter, especially for global warming zealots whose persuasions are so deeply entrenched you need spelunking gear to
go after them. This month we got a few pictures from friends in the great white north, that we wanted to share with you.
Over
the years, people have asked us how we could get to our island in
the winter when the river is frozen. Personally, we choose not to, but
some hardy neighbors apparently do by using a Canadian Icebreaker.
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We sure don't want to appear insensitive to our Eastern family and neighbors, as we have seen the endless horrendous winter storms that have ravaged the East coast. We want them to know that we feel their pain. They maybe up to their eyeballs in snow, ice, power shortages and freeeeeeeezing temperatures, but they should know that it has not been a picnic here in California this winter either. In fact, just the other day there was a gust of wind so strong, I had to comb my hair. It was absolutely brutal.
Did you know...
In
1933 when banking failures made hard currency scarce, Americans turned
to script. Most was printed on paper, but some towns used whatever was
at hand, even old tires and fish skin to
keep the economy going. In Pismo Beach (city limits 1/4 mile from our driveway) the chamber of Commerce and
11 local businesses traded the plentiful Pismo clam shell. This .50c
piece was numbered and signed in India ink. It changed hands as change
and was later redeemed as cash became available. Others fetched more
"clams", up to $20.00 Some of this emergency money was
later donated to the Smithsonian.
Speaking of Pismo Beach, each year thousands of vibrant orange and black Monarch Butterflies
flock here, seeking shelter like us from the freezing northern
winters. From late October to February, the butterflies cluster in the
limbs of a grove of Eucalyptus trees.
Spectators come from all over to view the Monarchs. The butterflies form dense clusters with each one hanging with its wing down over the one below it to form a shingle effect. This provides shelter from the rain and warmth for the group. The weight of the cluster help keeps it from whipping in the wind and dislodging the butterflies.
Our colony is one of the largest in the country, having an average of 25,000 butterflies over the last five years. The Monarchs that visit are a special variety. They have a
life span of six months as opposed to that of common Monarchs who live
only six weeks. This is apparently due to a unique fat storing system. Even with an extended life span, those butterflies that leave
in March will never return.
Show and tell
As we go to press, we are three days from flying out of here for the season. We will take a nap and wake up in Paris. Whatever has not gotten done by now won't get done until our return next October. We have accomplished the "absolutely must get it done's", so all that remained were the "we would really like to get it done's" and the "we wish we could get it done's". Its been a great winter here but it is time to go. Besides, we are completely out of sunscreen.
