Every City Has a Story...

I love the opportunity to visit any new city because they all have a story to tell.  When Scott's work schedule provided a lot of time to site see in Oklahoma City and New Orleans, we were able to find Grandmas willing to watch the boys and I was able to join him on his trip.

I remember very distinctly the day April 19, 1995, of the Oklahoma City bombing.  I was out tracting with Sister Rojas in the Palmyra area and we tracted into one of the member's homes.  She told us about the tradgedy, although it was hard to really grasp, especially as a missionary as we had so little contact with the news and current events.  I remember President Monson mentioning the memorial at the bombing site in a General Conference address in April of 2001.  Some of his address included, "Following the regional conference in Oklahoma City, I was driven to the entrance of a beautiful and symbolic memorial which graces the area where the Murrah building once stood. It was a dreary, rainy day, which tended to underscore the pain and suffering which had occurred there. The memorial features a 400-foot reflecting pool. On one side of the pool are 168 empty glass and granite chairs in honor of each of the people killed. These are placed, as far as can be determined, where the fallen bodies were found.

On the opposite side of the pool there stands, on a gentle rise of ground, a mature American elm tree—the only nearby tree to survive the destruction. It is appropriately and affectionately named “The Survivor Tree.” In regal splendor it honors those who survived the horrific blast.

My host directed my attention to the inscription above the gate of the memorial:

We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived and those changed forever.

May all who leave here know the impact of violence.

May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope and serenity.

He then, with tears in his eyes and with a faltering voice, declared, “This community, and all the churches and citizens in it, have been galvanized together. In our grief we have become strong. In our spirit we have become united.”

When Scott and I went to visit the Memorial, it was evening and all of the chairs were lit up.  There were smaller chairs for those representing the children, which there many of, who were killed.  As soon as you walked in through the gate, a feeling immediately rushed over you and you felt like you were on sacred ground.  You only felt comfortable communicating in a whisper.  The chairs lined both sides of the reflecting pool and the light from the chairs was reflected in the pool.

There were plaques placed around the memorial providing more information.  One story I found especially touching was about a father that met his 23 year old daughter every Wednesday for lunch.  She worked at City Building and they would meet at the restaurant across the street.  His daughter was killed in the bombing and he was completely devastated, of course.  At first, he wanted those responsible for the bombing to be put to death.  He was so overcome with grief and anguish, his life was miserable.  He then decided he wanted to meet the father of Timothy McVeigh, one of those responsible for the bombing.  He has since started to try and prevent the death penalty from being implemented for the bombers and he stays in touch with Timothy McVeigh's father.  I admire that someone who has suffered such a devastating and senseless loss can come to a place of such forgiveness.

The memorial touched me much more deeply than I ever would have expected.  It still makes me emotional to think about.  I only wished we would have had more time.  There is a museum there also which we didn't get in early enough to see.  Next time...

Scott and I at the Oklahoma City Arts Festival

After such a fun visit to New Orleans in January, I was excited to be able to get back again with Scott.  The first thing I wanted to be able to do was take a cemetery tour.  It was a beautiful sunny day, a perfect day to walk around the city and learn more about it's history.  The high water table there does not allow them to bury underground, so the bodies are placed in these tombs and sealed.  With the intense heat there, within a year all that remains are a few bone fragments.  A family purchases a tomb and each of the family members can be buried in the tomb.  The required waiting period is one year and one day before the tomb can be opened again for the next person to be buried.  When you look at the tombs, you can see long lists of names of all of the people who have been buried there.

A long list of family members who
died from yellow fever, many of
them children.

People will bring flowers and even
trinkets and food for their
loved ones.

Immigrants would want to be buried
in soil from their homeland, so they
would fill the area with soil from their
native country.

We were also able to take a tour of Oak Alley Plantation.  I kept thinking, "This house looks so familiar!" and finally figured out it was on the cover a book I had just finished reading, "A Separate Country."

Three hundred year old oak trees line the entrance.

The tour guide was excellent!  If the walls of this home could
talk... I loved hearing all of the history-  the sad, exciting, and true.

I felt like I should be wearing a hoop skirt and bonnet and
carrying a parasol to be walking down the walkway.

The view of the home from the Mississippi.
What a grand entrance with those symmetrical oak trees.

A Very Long Nap...

While watching, "The Secret Garden," Asher asked me what an orphan is. After I explained to him an orphan is someone whose parents have died he stated, "Well, if I were an orphan, I would just go to sleep until the resurrection so I could be with you and Dad again."

Boys Meet Mom's Mission...

 It was a long awaited moment... I finally had the opportunity to introduce my Rascals to My Mission.  Russ and Ann Judkins were kind enough to allow us to stay in their home.  Having raised seven sons of their own I was hoping there wasn't much our three could shock them with, but I think I was a bit optimistic.  But they were the kind and gracious hosts, as always, and made us feel like family the moment we walked in the door.  It was also Easter weekend, so the boys were relieved the Bunny was able to deliver their baskets to Buffalo Street in Warsaw, New York.

The Bunny brought Super Soaker water guns...

...and puppy slippers along with a basket full of treats.

Along with celebrating Easter, we were able to take the boys to see the Church Historical Sites in Palymra.

The Grandin Building on Main Street, Palmyra, site of the
first printing of the Book of Mormon

The Palmyra Temple

In the Sacred Grove

Inside the Hill Cumorah Visitors Center

On top of The Hill Cumorah
on a very windy day

The next day we were able to travel to see our Amish friends out in Lancaster County.  We spent a couple of hours at the Amish Toymakers shop.  One of our funnest memories was one of the white-haired Grandpa's showing us how the horse swing worked.  The boys were taking turns trying it out when he jumped up and said you really hadn't ridden the horse unless you'd ridden it high enough to hit your head on the ceiling.  Then he proceeded to show us how it's done!  Oh, to have a video of this Amish Grandpa going full speed on this horse swing with his white beard blowing behind him as he was swinging so high until he did literally hit his head on the ceiling.  Then he insisted Scott keep swinging until he did the same. 

A visit to see the Amish always reminds me of the important things in life.  These people are so happy.  They are so friendly and love to visit.  They live such simple lives and aren't weighed down with so many "things." To see the beautiful children in the school yard and to know they've never been exposed to television, music, movies, or anything other than their family, religion, community, and nature.  There is so much beauty in simplicity.

All that car time can make one a bit looney.

 Geneseo has a war plane museum that kept the gang interested for entire afternoon.  It was really unique in that we were allowed to get inside many of them and the boys (especially one really big boy) loved it.  Our tour guide was a twelve year old man young man who really knew his stuff!  He was definitely passionate about flying and it was inspiring to see someone that young so knowledgeable and so excited about his future career.  He was excited to be able to talk to Scott, too.

Although we visited a lot of fun and significant places, I think the boys will remember Ann letting them feed the goldfish each night and taking Mokie (the dog) on a walk each morning more than anything else.  They absolutely LOVED Mokie and made sure to buy a toy for him to send to at Christmas time.  Hopefully when they get older and learn more about Joseph Smith's First Vision, the Hill Cumorah, and the printing of the Book of Mormon, they will remember their visit and it will mean more to them.  But for now, I think the goldfish and Mokie are in first place.

Heart Health...

If you ever want to test the true state of health that your heart is in, try being separated from your eight year old in the Detroit Airport.  I was flying with the boys to Rochester and we were trying to find our gate.  Somehow Eli became separated in the process and I was sure I was going to pass out or have a heart attack.  I knew that Eli had to be dealing with the same emotions.  After contacting a security guard, he told us that Eli was down in the security office.  I couldn't hug him tight enough once I made way to the office.  Of course he had to play it cool with his brothers saying it was fun and that he got to have treats and soda while he was waiting in the security office.  But I'd be willing to bet the ranch he'd rather be with the safety of his family than have to deal with being alone in the airport for any treat or any soda.  I'm glad to know my heart seems to be in fine condition because it hasn't been taxed like that in a very long time.