If you were there I don't have to describe it, if you were to young or not there you have heard the stories and I don't need to repeat them. If you heard it was full of nudity, public sex, and drugs-you heard right. But there is another story you might not have heard:
The local National Guard unit and those units in the surrounding area as far away as Kansas City were put on duty that weekend. We went about our business as usual. The Adjutant General of the state of Missouri visited our unit and went on a fact finding mission to the festival. He wore civilian clothes and without a huge entourage.
About 1 a.m. Sunday morning I received a phone call from my commanding officer that told me to report to the armory immediately and to put on civilian clothes. The Chief of Staff of the Army National Guard got us all together, about 100 of us and told us that there was one drug overdose case every five minutes being taken to the the Bothwell emergency room. The concern was that there were many more that were not making it to Bothwell and needed assistance. "You are on a life saving mission, you are not there to enforce laws. You have about 10% hard core out there but the remaining 90% are just kids raising hell and having fun in their mind."
A dawn we all board army vehicles, given a Security T-shirt, and given sectors to patrol and radio in if helped was needed to evacuate some one from the grounds. A make shift hospital was set up near the site of the fair administration building manned by army doctors and nurses flown in from a Kansas City armory.
About half way through the day I received a call that my wife had called the armory, that she needed me and I was to come home immediately. I was whisked off by a highway patro car, found my wife in labor. I took my wife to the hospital where she gave birth to our first daughter. She asked me if I was going back to the fair grounds and I said no, they can manage without me.
For the most part the Ozark Music Festival was handled just fine. I don't know if any deaths occurred or not, it has been a long time ago and far, far, away it seems. Perhaps some of you can share what the aftermath was.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1370703551&sr=8-1&keywords=tales+from+homer+by+conley+stone+mcanally
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
From Alaska, Log 3
Continued from Log 2...
8/18/02
Quaint is not the right word. The town for the most part is a ghetto. Everyone seems poor. There is no running water in any of the homes and the water supplied to the school is yellow and must be distilled. White clothes look dingy after washing. The housing in the old part of the village is nothing but plywood shacks it seems. There are a few, very few, newer homes a little sturdier and are painted bright colors.
Went to church this morning. Part of the mass was in English, part in Yupick.
Our food and TV still have not arrived. We are thankful for the generosity of the staff for letting us buy or borrow needed items.
Called Mom today to have her send some things.
8/21/02
Called Dad, left a message. First day of school, no problems. The kids seem no different than kids the same age anywhere.
8/25/02
Talked to each one of the kids today, except for Shannon. I left a message. Last night we had two couples over for dinner, nice people, will probably become friends with them. George and Sandy, Katy and Jodie, and their son Andy.
I have been walking around the village and have taken a few pictures. TV got here and is up and running.
Kids keep stopping by to visit. I don't let them in, am polite but don't want to get it started or it will never end.
Still haven't gotten Paula to the beach yet, have walked around village. Food is expansive here and all the stuff we ordered from Anchorage has not arrived yet.
8/27/02
Three kids knocked on the door tonight and offered me some dried fish. They said it was Chum, which I think is part of the salmon family. I tasted it after making them taste it first. They gave me the whole fish, said it was for my wife too. I thanked them, closed the door and through it away. So much for the taste of the local food.
Note to reader: After reviewing what I wrote back then it seems callas, but I was in not the best state of mind as you will tell in subsequent logs. I did start letting the kids visit and they came by a lot, and I even developed a taste for Chum. In fact I even started feeling affection for the kids.
8/18/02
Quaint is not the right word. The town for the most part is a ghetto. Everyone seems poor. There is no running water in any of the homes and the water supplied to the school is yellow and must be distilled. White clothes look dingy after washing. The housing in the old part of the village is nothing but plywood shacks it seems. There are a few, very few, newer homes a little sturdier and are painted bright colors.
Went to church this morning. Part of the mass was in English, part in Yupick.
Our food and TV still have not arrived. We are thankful for the generosity of the staff for letting us buy or borrow needed items.
Called Mom today to have her send some things.
8/21/02
Called Dad, left a message. First day of school, no problems. The kids seem no different than kids the same age anywhere.
8/25/02
Talked to each one of the kids today, except for Shannon. I left a message. Last night we had two couples over for dinner, nice people, will probably become friends with them. George and Sandy, Katy and Jodie, and their son Andy.
I have been walking around the village and have taken a few pictures. TV got here and is up and running.
Kids keep stopping by to visit. I don't let them in, am polite but don't want to get it started or it will never end.
Still haven't gotten Paula to the beach yet, have walked around village. Food is expansive here and all the stuff we ordered from Anchorage has not arrived yet.
8/27/02
Three kids knocked on the door tonight and offered me some dried fish. They said it was Chum, which I think is part of the salmon family. I tasted it after making them taste it first. They gave me the whole fish, said it was for my wife too. I thanked them, closed the door and through it away. So much for the taste of the local food.
Note to reader: After reviewing what I wrote back then it seems callas, but I was in not the best state of mind as you will tell in subsequent logs. I did start letting the kids visit and they came by a lot, and I even developed a taste for Chum. In fact I even started feeling affection for the kids.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
From Alaska, Log 2
Later the same evening. 8/15/02
I have tried reading a book and magazine, listened to the radio, and tried a crossword puzzle. I am already bored and the evening has just begun. I have thought I would do a character sketch on the people I have met so far but I really don't know them well enough to be accurate. So I have decided to write down what has happened so far since we left Tucson but only hit the high points.
Mom dropped Paula and I off at the airport. Mom did pretty good saying good bye, didn't even cry, at least not in front of me. The plane left on time at 6 A.M. The two and half hour flight to Seattle was uneventful as was the hour and half lay over. The three and half hour flight to Anchorage left a lot to be desired because it was over cast and Paula could not see the mountains below. She was disappointed.
We went from the Ted Stevens International Airport to the Sheraton Anchorage. Got settled in the room then walked around town, had a drink at a bar named Humpys, went to a School District reception, met a couple named Kroll, went to bed, got up the next morning and went to some meetings, then to Sam's to buy supplies, went back to Humpys for dinner, bed, meetings in the morning, caught a flight at 6 P.M. which didn't leave until 6:40. While waiting we met a guy from Kansas City who was going to Bethel also to fix some sort of medical machine and also an Albanian who had once lived in Dixon.
We landed in Bethel and got the last room in town at a place called the Long House. Bethel is a poor excuse for a town. It has no central business district and what shops there are are stretched out along the roads more or less hidden from view.
We asked a cab driver, all cabby's seemed to be Korean, about a restaurant and he suggested the Depries. Sounded exotic, but it turned out to be no more than a cafe, food wasn't bad however
The next morning our flight was supposed to leave at 9 A.M. ended up departing at 1:30 P.M. It was an hour flight to Hooper Bay in a nine passenger bush plane. The bags were in the same fusel lodge as we were.
We flew over the tundra and it looked like flying over the great planes, but flatter. The area was very green and there seemed to be ponds of water everywhere.
We circled Hooper Bay once and from the air the village looked very quaint. We were met at the landing strip by the school principal and taken to what would be our home for the next nine months. More Specifics later.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref
I have tried reading a book and magazine, listened to the radio, and tried a crossword puzzle. I am already bored and the evening has just begun. I have thought I would do a character sketch on the people I have met so far but I really don't know them well enough to be accurate. So I have decided to write down what has happened so far since we left Tucson but only hit the high points.
Mom dropped Paula and I off at the airport. Mom did pretty good saying good bye, didn't even cry, at least not in front of me. The plane left on time at 6 A.M. The two and half hour flight to Seattle was uneventful as was the hour and half lay over. The three and half hour flight to Anchorage left a lot to be desired because it was over cast and Paula could not see the mountains below. She was disappointed.
We went from the Ted Stevens International Airport to the Sheraton Anchorage. Got settled in the room then walked around town, had a drink at a bar named Humpys, went to a School District reception, met a couple named Kroll, went to bed, got up the next morning and went to some meetings, then to Sam's to buy supplies, went back to Humpys for dinner, bed, meetings in the morning, caught a flight at 6 P.M. which didn't leave until 6:40. While waiting we met a guy from Kansas City who was going to Bethel also to fix some sort of medical machine and also an Albanian who had once lived in Dixon.
We landed in Bethel and got the last room in town at a place called the Long House. Bethel is a poor excuse for a town. It has no central business district and what shops there are are stretched out along the roads more or less hidden from view.
We asked a cab driver, all cabby's seemed to be Korean, about a restaurant and he suggested the Depries. Sounded exotic, but it turned out to be no more than a cafe, food wasn't bad however
The next morning our flight was supposed to leave at 9 A.M. ended up departing at 1:30 P.M. It was an hour flight to Hooper Bay in a nine passenger bush plane. The bags were in the same fusel lodge as we were.
We flew over the tundra and it looked like flying over the great planes, but flatter. The area was very green and there seemed to be ponds of water everywhere.
We circled Hooper Bay once and from the air the village looked very quaint. We were met at the landing strip by the school principal and taken to what would be our home for the next nine months. More Specifics later.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
From Alaska, Log 1
look back on my time in Alaska with smiles, happiness, and humor. Today I came across a log I wrote at the time I was experiencing all the wonders of Alaska. Realities and memories don't match up sometimes it seems.
8-15-02. Hooper Bay, Alaska
We arrived yesterday. This is the most dismal looking place I have ever been in. It is dirty, the houses are little more than plywood shacks and the teacher housing, at least for us, is some where next to the type you would find in the ghetto.
There are flies all over the place, our food has not arrived, we have no phone or TV yet and we only get one station on the radio. We are very remote here, you can feel it, we feel forlorn and even with both of us here we cannot help feeling alone and isolated. A silence has fallen between us but it isn't out of anger. I think I might have made a mistake.
Women are the ones who are the real pioneers and are the back bone. They make a house a home. Paula is doing all the right things but I can tell her heart is not in it. It pains me to see her unhappy.
It is 52 degrees outside, the wind is out of the west at 17mph.
The school building is the pits. My classroom is OK and in all fairness everyone we have met, native and teacher, have been very nice and helpful. This is a good thing I guess given the fact that yesterday we were all strangers.
To be continued
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1370357370&sr=1-1&keywords=tales+from+homer
8-15-02. Hooper Bay, Alaska
We arrived yesterday. This is the most dismal looking place I have ever been in. It is dirty, the houses are little more than plywood shacks and the teacher housing, at least for us, is some where next to the type you would find in the ghetto.
There are flies all over the place, our food has not arrived, we have no phone or TV yet and we only get one station on the radio. We are very remote here, you can feel it, we feel forlorn and even with both of us here we cannot help feeling alone and isolated. A silence has fallen between us but it isn't out of anger. I think I might have made a mistake.
Women are the ones who are the real pioneers and are the back bone. They make a house a home. Paula is doing all the right things but I can tell her heart is not in it. It pains me to see her unhappy.
It is 52 degrees outside, the wind is out of the west at 17mph.
The school building is the pits. My classroom is OK and in all fairness everyone we have met, native and teacher, have been very nice and helpful. This is a good thing I guess given the fact that yesterday we were all strangers.
To be continued
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1370357370&sr=1-1&keywords=tales+from+homer
Monday, June 3, 2013
Sedalia Housing Authority
Back in the 1960's the Federal Government wanted to improve the conditions of those who lived in sub par housing in their opinion. Local communities wanting to cash in on the "free" money applied and housing was built in areas that qualified, and what those exact qualification were I am not sure, but Sedalia received a grant to build apartment type dwelling on the north side of town. For many years the area was just referred to as the "Projects." I think it might have had a different name but it never took hold if it did.
I was asked to become a member of the board of directors. I accepted and one or two nights a month I would attend a meeting and voted on matters that the head administrator brought to our attention. Everyone took their position very seriously and thought long and hard about the decisions they were asked to make. After all we were dealing with people's lives.
The Director of the board's name has long escaped me as all the other member's names. I do remember the administrator because his son was a student of mine and he was a minister in a local church. All of this is much ado about nothing because the real point of the muse is making fun of how a group of people, no matter how well intended can make fools out of themselves.
The Director honestly did not like the community always referring to the projects as the projects and thought if we would give the streets a name in and around the buildings that it would help lesson the stigma of living there, which was always the case where poor people gathered, especially if 99% of them were black. He was very sincere.
We thought on the issue and since it was the time Scott Joplin was becoming identified with Sedalia more and more some of the streets were named after him and names associated with the era and Jazz. The trouble came in when it was suggested that the reamaining streets be named after the board members.
I thought it was a terrible idea but so as not to hurt every ones feeling I went along, perphaps secretly wanting my name to go down in history some where. The Sedalia Democrat the next evening had a front page story which headline read "Board Honors Themselves."
The next time you are in the area and see McAnally Ct, that is my street and you can tell everyone you know a guy who claims that street is named after him, and so it was sort of, I guess I named it after myself though.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref
I was asked to become a member of the board of directors. I accepted and one or two nights a month I would attend a meeting and voted on matters that the head administrator brought to our attention. Everyone took their position very seriously and thought long and hard about the decisions they were asked to make. After all we were dealing with people's lives.
The Director of the board's name has long escaped me as all the other member's names. I do remember the administrator because his son was a student of mine and he was a minister in a local church. All of this is much ado about nothing because the real point of the muse is making fun of how a group of people, no matter how well intended can make fools out of themselves.
The Director honestly did not like the community always referring to the projects as the projects and thought if we would give the streets a name in and around the buildings that it would help lesson the stigma of living there, which was always the case where poor people gathered, especially if 99% of them were black. He was very sincere.
We thought on the issue and since it was the time Scott Joplin was becoming identified with Sedalia more and more some of the streets were named after him and names associated with the era and Jazz. The trouble came in when it was suggested that the reamaining streets be named after the board members.
I thought it was a terrible idea but so as not to hurt every ones feeling I went along, perphaps secretly wanting my name to go down in history some where. The Sedalia Democrat the next evening had a front page story which headline read "Board Honors Themselves."
The next time you are in the area and see McAnally Ct, that is my street and you can tell everyone you know a guy who claims that street is named after him, and so it was sort of, I guess I named it after myself though.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref
Friday, May 31, 2013
Murder in Sedalia
My memory is a little vague concerning the names of who shot who, so I am not going to use any of the names I think I know but really don't know, you know like Jack Webb said, "to protect the innocent."
There was a house if ill repute, shall we say, on the north side of the tracks years ago. The house was very famous or infamous and everyone knew it was there and why it was allowed to operate was never really explained.
A young man found out that his former girl friend had gone to work there. He didn't like the idea and showed up at the house and caused some sort of scene. The owner of the place took offense at the man's presence and behavior and shot him dead.
The owner was arrested and for such a big event in Sedalia I cannot remember what the out come was.
The one thing that does stick in my mind is that the sister of the young man killed was in my eighth grade class at the Sedalia Junior High and so was the son or step son of the man who killed the boy. They were in the same class, same period etc. There must not have been any particular problems because nothing stands out that there was a problem in the school between the two famalies.
If anyone can fill in the blanks I would be interested in knowing.
There was a house if ill repute, shall we say, on the north side of the tracks years ago. The house was very famous or infamous and everyone knew it was there and why it was allowed to operate was never really explained.
A young man found out that his former girl friend had gone to work there. He didn't like the idea and showed up at the house and caused some sort of scene. The owner of the place took offense at the man's presence and behavior and shot him dead.
The owner was arrested and for such a big event in Sedalia I cannot remember what the out come was.
The one thing that does stick in my mind is that the sister of the young man killed was in my eighth grade class at the Sedalia Junior High and so was the son or step son of the man who killed the boy. They were in the same class, same period etc. There must not have been any particular problems because nothing stands out that there was a problem in the school between the two famalies.
If anyone can fill in the blanks I would be interested in knowing.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Sedalia-Heber Hunt Chocolate
Students remember some teachers but what they don't realize teachers remember some students. I for one remember all my students but not by name. Recently I received a class picture of the first class I ever taught and I knew everyone of them. There was only one without prompting that I could put a name. Here is why - It was around some holiday and it was the custom back then that the students would bring the teacher a small treat like candy or a small token. A couple of boys brought me a box of chocolate covered cherries. My wife and I liked chocolate covered cherries so as soon as I got home we opened the box. I took one of the pieces, bit into it and discovered it was paraffin with a not to good tasting chocolate covering. Well I saw the humor in it and I wish I would have taken the box back to school the next day and passed it around telling the class how delicious they were and give credit to the boys who gave it to me. However the boys admitted the next day after being much to eager to ask how I liked their gift, that one of their grandmothers had helped them make the "treat." I didn't make an issue out of it of course because I thought it was funny. One of the mothers came up to me after school one day soon afterwards and told me that I had permission to do anything to her son short of breaking bones and drawing blood. I never did of course, but Brian Dickman beware I might find myself in the northwest portion of the US some day. I have a good memory and a long one. I don't think I will order a pizza from you unless you taste it first.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)