am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys."
Dear Friends and Schoolmates,
|The theme of today's Christmas Newsletter was selected just for my friend, Herb Hice of MI, one of my Famous Marines who served in the Pacific Theater during WWII, who so loves red roses - and the Lord Jesus Christ, who like himself, was a Humble Carpenter.|
From My Niece, Shari of VA - 12/05/06 - "The Dream":
This is very touching, Shari. Yes, of course it made me cry! I toldja I was just a big ol' crybaby! Thanks so much, Lady!
From Al Farber ('64) of GA - 12/07/06 - "Holiday Season":
Let Your Light so Shine that it will be
a Beacon for ALL God's Children That they may experience... Faith..... Love.... Understanding.... Sharing... And... Hope ....
Typhoons Forever al
What a pretty Pict-o-Gram this is! Thanks so much, Al! And Happy Hanukkah!
From Joe Madagan ('57) of FL - 12/07/06:
Being the wise man that I am, I immediately changed the photo to a more recent, but more pleasant photo of Eva Ellis Madagan ('61) of the recent Newsletter in which Karrin (Williams) Frankie (Warwick HS - '61) of VA mentions her in a P.S. to her message.and I am hoping you will use this photo instead of the one you used in
Sunday, May 14, 2006
|Eva Ellis Madagan ('61) of|
YOWZERONI-RINI!!! I didn't know Eva didn't like her senior portrait; I always thought it was pretty! Plus I'd hate to think how many times it's been posted since I first scanned in on 12/23/05.......
Okay, Joe, I'll use this one for the time being. If you could resend it to me, though, I'd appreciate it. This copy seems to have arrived in almost a thumbnail size. It was only 138 pixels high. I usually scan portraits at 600 pixels high and post them thumbnailed to 75 pixels high. When I tried to enlarge this in PhotoShop to compensate for that, it was just so itsy-bitsy it became one big blur.
Well, Sweetie, please give Eva my love and apologies, and assure her that you had nothing to do with it. I'd hate for you to have to be sent back to the frozen north for something I did.
In fact, other than the snow, which I miss (having lived near St. Louis for thirty years of my life), I don't like thinking of anyone's being in the cold. I'm cold enough right now to last me. It's about 30 degrees outside, and our heat pump has been on the blink for some time now, so it's about 56 degrees inside......
Thanks Adonis! And just a reminder: I'll use any image - or no image - y'all would prefer! I do at least try to be nice....
From My Niece, Shari of VA - 12/05/06 - "Broken Eggs and Shattered Glass":
BROKEN EGGS AND SHATTERED GLASS
. . . with my sincere thanks to those late night pranksters!
On a recent Saturday evening at around midnight, my wife and I
were just about to turn out the light and go to sleep when we heard the
sounds of a group of people talking in the street, outside our home. Then
out of the blue came two loud thuds above our bedroom window, followed
by the noise of laughter and people running away down our street.
We both jumped out of bed, I turned on the external lights and
rushed outside unsure of what had caused the two thuds or what damage I
could expect to see. The silence of the night was broken by the distant
sound of people laughing and at that moment I was of a mind to chase
after them, however, running bare-footed on the road in the dark is not a
very wise thing to do.
I could hear dripping noises on the driveway and the flood light
above our garage helped me to identify just what had happened. Our home
had been the victim of an egg bombing!
Being faced with the prospect of cleaning up this sticky mess in
the early hours of the morning was not a pleasing thought, on top of
which I was less than impressed that we had been singled out for this
annoying prank. I decided that it was too late to clean up the mess, as it
would disturb our neighbours, so it could wait to the morning.
Early next morning with a bucket of warm water and scrubbing
brush in hand, and with the extension ladder placed on the front wall, I
was now ready to wash off what was now two dry yellowish, egg grit
impregnated, 1 metre long patches above our front bedroom windows.
My task was made even more challenging by the two large canvas
awnings which protect our bedroom windows from the heat and glare of the
afternoon sun. My annoyance with the late night pranksters was again
building to the level of the night before.
After retracting each of the awnings, something we rarely do
except when there is are very high winds, I then climbed the ladder to
clean up the first patch of egg stain and then move the ladder to clean the
second patch. As I climbed the ladder for the second time, I noticed
that the glass in a small window just under the roof line was very badly
cracked. On closer inspection the crack ran around over half of the
outer edge of the window pane. As the awning protected the window, it was
clear to me that the damage had not been caused by the egg bombing. As
I carefully placed my hand on the glass, I discovered that the pane of
glass was very loose and had the window been closed with any force, it
would have most likely shattered and the glass dropped to the drive
way, some seven metres below.
Just a few metres away, we have a basketball ring and on most
days of the week there are up to six young people who play in the
immediate area, including both my sons. My thoughts immediately turned to what
could have happened if the broken glass in the window had gone
undetected for much longer and then suddenly shattered. The likelihood of my
two sons and their friends being seriously injured was extremely high.
After quickly washing the remaining egg stain off the front wall
and with the help of Tom, my youngest son, I got to work with some
heavy duty masking tape and secured the cracked window as best I could.
Within 24 hours the cracked window had been replaced and all was back to
normal, except for the small bits of egg shell I kept finding on the
front drive way and stuck to our garage doors.
Over the next few days, I realised that had our home not been
bombarded by those eggs late on that Saturday night, I may not have
discovered the broken window pane before it shattered and came down all over
our drive way.
Even though it had been an annoyance at time, the broken eggs and
the stains were cleaned up very quickly, however, the pain that could
have been caused by the shattering of glass would never gone away and
would have haunted my wife and myself, forever and a day.
The cold shudder that ran down my spine when I first discovered
the cracked window and the thought about the consequences of someone
being seriously injured or even killed, made me realise just how very
lucky we had been.
Frequently in life, the small things that happen to us may have a
negative impact and cause some form of pain, sadness, discomfort or
personal aggravation. It is often said that we should not 'sweat the small
stuff' and always look for the positive outcome or the silver lining in
those dark clouds of the current circumstance, even though at the time
that is not always an easy thing to do.
My personal experience with the egg bombing on that Saturday
evening reminded me that in most cases there is always a flip side to
everything that happens to us and that often the flip side can provide a
positive outcome or an even greater benefit, if not now, then at some time
in the future.
From now on whenever I see or break an egg, I will think of the
egg bombing incident and say a thank you to those late night pranksters.
Equally, I will always be reminded of Jean-Paul Sartre's quote:
'What is important is not what happens to us, but how we respond
to what happens to us'
--- Written by Keith Ready - July 2005
Keith Ready is an Australian based business adviser and trainer
whose specialty is working with his clients to improve top and bottom
line business performance in a measurable way, through people.
Ohhh, I really, really appreciate this selection, Shari. Thanks so much!
From Wayne Stokes ('65) of VA - 12/08/06 - "Christmas Story":
An Early Christmas Story
Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their
means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were
genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I
learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world
had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy
me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that
night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we
could read in the Bible.
After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the
fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling
sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read
Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and
went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the
chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in
Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in
his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out
I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas,
now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I
could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of
anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I
knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them
to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat,
and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave
the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the
work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going
to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never
hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load.
Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up
beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.
When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of
the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high
sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a
bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but
whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high
After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and
came out with an armload of wood -- the wood I'd spent all summer hauling
down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting.
What was he doing?
Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"
"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked.
The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the
road. Her husband had
died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being
eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?
"Yeah," I said, "Why?"
"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey
was out digging around in the
woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."
That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the wood- shed
for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high
that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa
called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took
down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put
them in the sled and wait.
When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder
and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?"
I asked. "Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks
wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I
got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a
We rode the two miles to the Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried
to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly
standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was
left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks
and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could
spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them
shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? The Widow Jensen
had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.
We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as
quietly as possible. Then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the
door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"
The Widow Jensen opened the door to let us in. She had a blanket wrapped
around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were
sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any
heat at all. The Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.
"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of
I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her
the sack that had the shoes
in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time.
There was a pair for her and one for each of the children -- sturdy shoes, the
best, shoes that would last.
I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and
then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked
up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.
"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said,
"Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size
and heat this place up."
I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had
a big lump in my throat, and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears
in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around
the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her
cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.
My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled my
soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had
made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of
I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started
giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and the Widow
Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a
She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has
sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of
his angels to spare us."
In spite of myself, the lump returned to my
throat and the tears welled up in
my eyes again.
I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after the Widow
Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a
better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all
the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The
list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when
they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I
guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make
sure he got the right sizes.
Tears were running down the Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up
to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They
clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa,
and I was glad that I still had mine.
At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to
invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey
will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous
if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about
eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here,
hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers
and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to
say, 'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't
even notice the cold.
When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to
know something. Your ma and I have been tucking a little money away
here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have
quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years
back came by to make things square. Your ma and I were real excited,
thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this
morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the
woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had
to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I
hope you understand."
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears
again. I understood very
well, and I was so glad Pa had done it.
Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a
lot more. He had given me the look on the Widow Jensen's face and the
radiant smiles of her three children.
For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of
wood, I remembered. And remembering brought back that same joy I felt
riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle
that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.
What a truly lovely, beautiful story! Thanks so much, Wayne Honey - and Rip Precious!
Reunion information is ALWAYS posted very near the top on the front page, and on the Reunion Page section:
Henceforth, it will be repeated
here, lest you forget:
The NNHS Class of 1957
will hold its Holiday Party on Thursday, December 14, 2006 at the Omni Hotel,
Newport News, VA.
Forms and reservations were due
The NNHS Class of 1958
will hold its Holiday Party on Thursday, December 14, 2006 at Port Anne Club House, Williamsburg, VA at 5:30 PM.
Map and Directions to Port Anne Community: http://www.widomaker.com/
Reservations are due
The NNHS Class of 1962
will hold its 45-Year Reunion on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, September 21, 22 and 23, 2007 at the Point Plaza Suites, 950 J. Clyde Morris Boulevard, Newport News, VA 23601.
Suites will be available that will include breakfast on Saturday and Sunday.
Visit Brenda's 1962 Web Page:
AND CHECK THIS WEB PAGE FOR THE LATEST INFORMATION -11/27/06:
NNHS Class of 1957
is planning its 50-Year Class Reunion,
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday,
September 7, 8 and 9, 2007
at the Omni Hotel in Newport News, VA.
More details to follow!
The NNHS Class of 1958
is planning its 50th Anniversary Reunion,
Friday and Saturday, May 16 -17, 2008.
The Noble Gathering
More details to
From David Whitley ('67) of VA - 11/08/06 - "Polar bears are people, too" (#7 in a series of 9):
Oh, yeah! LOTS and LOTS and LOTS of hugs!!!
But Most of All...
I Wish You Lots of Bear Hugs
From One of my Famous Marines - Herb Hice of MI, who served in the Pacific Theater during WWII - 12/07/06 - "Dear Carol, Some Cute Animal Pix" (#1 in a series of 20):
Everyone knows how much I love animals SO, I receive loads of these pictures.
Your Friend, Herbie
Ahhh, "a refuge
from mine enemies"! I love it!
Y'all take care of each other! TYPHOONS FOREVER! We'll Always Have Buckroe!
Love to all, Carol
NNHS CLASS OF '65 WEB SITE:
PERSONAL WEB SITE: http://www.angelfire.com/weird2/cluckmeat
219 Four Ply Lane
Fayetteville, NC 29311-9305
Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming
The author of
lyrics of this early 15th Century German carol is lost in antiquity.
The words of the first two stanzas were translated by Theodore Baker in 1894.
Stanzas 3-4 were translated by Harriet Reynolds Krauth (1845-1925).
The Music, "Es
Ist Ein Ros',", comes from Alte Catholische Geistliche Kirchengesäng,
Harmony was added to the melody by Michael Praetorius in 1609.
You may recognize the tune also as A Great and Mighty Wonder.
Lo, How a Rose E'er
Lo, how a
Rose e'er blooming from tender stem hath sprung!
foretold it, the Rose I have in mind;
heard the story proclaimed by angels bright,
Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
Es Ist Ein Ros'
ein Ros' entsprungen, aus einer Wurzel zart,
das ich meine, davon Jesaias sagt,
so kleine, das duftet uns so süß,
O Jesu, bis zum
Scheiden aus diesem Jammertal
"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" midi, lyrics, and history courtesy of http://www.cvc.org/christmas/rose.htm - 12/08/06
Image of Nancy Kaestner's Red Rose courtesy of http://www.cragheadgallery.com/nancy%20kaestner.htm - 12/08/06
Red Roses Divider Line clip art courtesy of http://www.wtv-zone.com/nevr2l82/bar11.html - 02/01/05
Marine Corps Seal clip art
Herbert Hice of MI
- one of my
Famous Marines who served in the South
Pacific during WWII.
Army Seal clip art also courtesy of Al
Farber ('64) of GA - 05/24/06
Thanks again, Al!
Back to NNHS Newsletters - 2006
Return to NNHS Class of 1965