BILL CHERRY'S GREATEST DALLAS PARK CITIES REAL ESTATE BLOG: October 2007

Three Palms Photography

                  No One Who Truly Knows the Mansion Would Ever Call It The Open Gates

                                                     By William S. Cherry, Ph.D.

When I was growing up in Galveston, there were so many mansions that the thought of their value and opulence to us were sidebars, really. They were nothing more than where our friends' parents had grown up, and now were where old people lived. People who told us the stories of Galveston's past. Many of the stories I learned to love and tell to you.

The exception was what family and friends called The Big House. It's on the corner of 25^th and Broadway. The world knows it as The Open Gates, and since 1889, it has probably been the most photographed and recognized home in Galveston.  The glorious photograph of The Big House on a snowy day is the work of Three Palms Photography.

George Sealy built The Open Gates for his wife, Magnolia, and their four children. It was designed by a New York architect named Stanford White, but the construction was supervised by famed Galveston architect, Nicholas Clayton. The style is known as Neo-Renaissance.

When I see tourists staring at it or taking photos, I can't help but grin. I wonder what they'd think if they knew what had gone on behind those walls. The Sealys, regardless of age, knew how to party, and they did it formally and informally with great regularity and bravura. One of their favorite ways to dress for a party was in Gay-90s costumes.

And upstairs in the third floor attic was a playroom with a stage. The various grandchildren, nephews and nieces would put on their own productions there. Sometimes when there was a traveling marionette troop passing through town, it would be engaged to do a special performance on that attic stage for the Sealy children and their friends. I remember going there for one of them on a cool spring Saturday morning. It must have been about 1948.

More than once, the grandchildren, nieces and nephews roller skated in the front parlor, knowing full well they'd be caught and made to stop. And there was the lasting odor throughout the house from Uncle Bob Sealy's elevator that croaked and groaned and smelled like burning carbon when he took it up and down from his quarters. That arsenic and old lace relic was so ominous that he was the only one brave enough to ride it.

But the real treat was to be invited to The Big House on Christmas Eve night, before the midnight service at Trinity Church. The Sealys loved plants, and the house and the conservatory would be overflowing. All of this in addition to the Christmas tree and seasonal greenery. No one made egg nog that tasted nearly as good or was anywhere near as potent as that Sealy bunch. I've tried to copy it for forty years. Mine might qualify as a poor second, nevertheless excellent in flavor, body and kick.

And a social function at the Big House where they were celebrating one thing or another, also became the traditional time and place for a Sealy heir to become engaged. I remember that just after her debut party during the holiday season of 1956, Bill Crum slipped an engagement ring on my friend Janey Pinkard's finger. Even at 16, to me it was an exciting event. I loved seeing Janey so happy.

And Ann Sealy tells the story of George, III, putting the ring on her hand as they were in the hall outside of Uncle Bob Sealy's quarters, greased down with Noxema after a day of too much sun at the boat club.

Well over twenty of the Sealy heirs have worn the wedding veil of Magnolia Sealy.

My primary connection with the Sealy family was through my childhood friends, Billy, Janey and Becky Pinkard. They lived in a stucco home behind Ashton Villa where the Sealy gazebo stands today. Without trying to wade you through the lineage, primarily because I'm not sure I can still get it right, it was their mother Jane who was a Sealy by way of the Burton family.

Walking from the Pinkards' home to The Big House was quick and easy, and it was always fun to see what fun-loving and eccentric Uncle Bob was up to, as well as to see what good things the family's maid, Lureline, could dig up for us to munch on.

And the way to go inside Galveston mansions was always through the back door. Only those who qualified for the austerity of being guests went through their main entrance.

If it were spring or summer or early autumn, we'd stroll the grounds, eating our cookies, but would usually end up walking to the Rosenberg Library to see what new books or exhibits had been added. The library wasn't air conditioned then. It had an odor all of its own. I always thought of it as the smell of knowledge, the body odor of Plato and Don Herbert (Mr. Wizard) and the Hardy Boys' adventures.

With all of the family activities that went on for generations at the Big House, and that were unselfishly shared with the Sealys' many friends, especially this one who lived with his family in a small brick home on Woodrow, it's hard for me to believe that era somehow terminated as none stayed behind to perpetuate it.

Now that that building is a property of the University of Texas Medical Branch, it's finally proper to call the architectural decedent The Open Gates, even though the famoous gates are ironically kept closed.  The Big House is only a memory.

                                      Copyright 2003 - William S. Cherry, Ph.D.

Fine Arts Chamber Players.  There is nothing we have enjoyed more than the Bancroft Family Concerts that the Fine Arts Chamber Players oversees every year.  This year's season opened yesterday in Horchow Auditorium at the Dallas Museum of Art.  

All of their programs are totally without charge to the public, and are held where there's no chance of getting anything other than the best seat in the house.  Here's where you can find out the details. CLICK or 214.520.2219.  Ask for Rogine Russell.

Patty and I will see you there.

Splitting the Difference.  Cloaked in the shrouds of fair play, it rarely if ever is.  The one who suggests splitting the difference is always the winner.

Classical Music and Hip Hop.  Interestingly those who study the Internet and its affect on social change have discovered that the sale of classical music is on the rise.  And it's on the rise among those who also are hip hop and jazz enthusiasts.  That's been primarily attributed to being able to hear snippets of classical pieces via web sites and listen and listen until you find a sonata you like.  And you don't have to be able to pronounce the composer's name or have ever heard of the orchestra or its leader to make the choice. For more information

Business Cards.  I've been self-employed since I was about thirty-five, if memory serves me.  That's a long time.  And if you share that category with me, you know that picking and getting business cards printed that look as good as you and your business is a continually returning nightmare.

More of a hit, miss and golly attitude than that it was a conscious decision I have found the very best printer of these little necessities there is.  Beautiful and very heavy coated stock, impeccable photo reproduction, fine tuned print.  Honestly, it seems everyone I present the card to takes time to comment on the quality. CLICK and  here's the customer service address: CLICK

Rogue Wallet.  A few years ago, I was in Manhattan.  My business associate and I had walked up to a restaurant, and were on our way back to our hotel.  It was dark by then and sprinkling.  Just moments before the Waldorf, three men attacked me from behind and took my wallet from my back pocket.  That's the problem.  Most men carry their wallet either in their back pocket or in the breast pocket of their jacket.  Easy prey.

Now there's a wallet made in the shape of your front pants pocket, and that's where you carry it.  Problem solved.  1-800-786-1768. Tell them Groucho sent you.

Republic Title Company.  It you haven't tried Republic Title Co.'s office on Douglas, a block off of Northwest Highway near Preston, you should.  I fell in there by accident, and with a complicated closing that needed to be handled quickly.  They did it all in record time.  I'll definitely be back.  There are six escrow officers there.  My champions were Meredith Williams and her assistant Ali. 214.521.6143. CLICK

Hip Hop and Orientals.  Oriental young people are learning to dress in a vernacular hip hop style.  Because of their small frames, this look is totally perfect for them.  And the caps?  The perfect accouterment!  As finished products, they appear to have leaped off of the fashion runway into real life.

American Red Cross.  Interestingly, the other day the newsman was interviewing a woman with the American Red Cross about how people could help the Red Cross help the California fire victims.  In her finishing school voice, and elitist vocabulary, I pictured her at the telephone in her couture outfit and Tiffany jewelry.  She said to send money, not clothes, groceries, blankets or toiletries.  Something about it costs the Red Cross too much money to handle items.  They're good at handling money, she said.

I won't be sending money.

Learning about Life.  There is an AM station in Dallas, 660 on the dial, that is owned by a network of primarily Christian broadcasting stations, Salem Communications.  The Dallas call letters are KSKY.  This station devotes itself to conservatism format.  What interests me is that the lineup includes Laura Ingraham (a Roman Catholic), followed by Dennis Prager (a Jewish Scholar) and Michael Medved (a Jew).  I am totally hooked on the breadth of the knowledge of these three with religion.  Prager and Medved both have enormously big brains.  And Miss Laura is no slouch.  I wish they would bring Michael Savage back for comic relief.

Beginning in about 1959, Leon Breeden, arguably the most famous professor of jazz music in the world, took over and made famous the jazz music program at what was then called North Texas State College.  It's in Denton, about 35 miles north of Dallas.

His musicians and his bands - called Lab Bands - produced so many outstanding musicians that Stan Kenton began recruiting new band members from his bands.  Time past, and in honor of the success of Mr. Breeden and his students, Mr. Kenton donated his entire music library to what by then had become known as the University of North Texas.  The collection is worth more than a million dollars.

Now let me tell you about Galen Jeter.  He was actually a biology major, but had such fine talent as a trumpeter that he was chosen by Mr. Breeden to play in the most famous of Mr. Breeden's Lab Bands, the 1 O'clock Band.

After graduation, and while a serious public school biology teacher, Mr. Jeter formed the first city-supported jazz orchestra in the U.S.  His band has just celebrated its 34^th anniversary.  Patty and I were there to join the celebration.

And interestingly, many of the musicians in Mr. Jeter's orchestra are graduates of North Texas and protégés of Mr. Breeden.  And some toured with the Kenton bands.

This Sunday night, October 28th, Galen Jeter's big orchestra will play its weekly Sunday evening concert at the Village Country Club at 8303 Southwestern, just east of Greenville.  It starts at 7 PM and usually continues until 10 or so.  Tickets are 7 bucks, and a hot buffet and drinks are available.  The orchestra's many CDs are available for purchase as well.

But here's the treat:  Mr. Jeter's orchestra will be playing all original arrangements from the actual book of the Stan Kenton Orchestra.  If you are a big band jazz fan, you'll want to join Patty and me in the audience.  It will be awesome.  See you at 7 this Sunday!  (I won't be sitting in on piano...you've gotten yet another reprieve.)

Bill Cherry, Realtors Web Site

Bill Cherry's Wikipedia Biography

Do you see that guy at the left?  Yeah, the one with the bags of money in his hands.  Well, he's just renewed a scam that had gone underground for a handful of years.

Here's what he did.  He drove through neighborhoods of Highland Park homes and found a few with sold riders on the Realtor's sign.  He then called each of the agents and asked them when they expected the home to close and at what title company.

While all didn't tell him, he kept trying until he found one or two who spilled the beans.  Next he went to the office supply store and bought a hand full of M&M Lien forms, and with the public information that's available to any and everyone, prepared an M&M lien for each of those properties, with himself as the lien-holder.

By making discreet calls, he was able to learn when each of those houses would actually close.  So, the day before, after all of the closing documents had been prepared, he filed his M&M Lien at the courthouse. The following morning just before the closing, the title company checked the records to see if there were any new liens.  His lien popped up.  What to do?  Not closing on time could cost the sale, and it could cause major inconveniences.

So the lawyer for the Seller called him and, after a few minutes of sparing, "convinced" him to take 50 cents on the dollar for a release. 

See those bags of money?  That's his profit for a form that cost him two bucks a piece and a recording fee of fourteen each.  I heard there's about $1,500 in one of the bags and nearly $2,000 in the other.  Nice profit...an easy extortion with little chance of being filed on or prosecuted.

This past week, a fellow who said his name was Emile tried to scam my client.  Fortunately he called me first, and I remembered the scenario from days gone by.  He got no information from me, but it wasn't long until he had called everyone involved.  Fortunately I had gotten to them first, told them what I suspected, and told them to reveal nothing.

Be on the lookout.  And let me remind you that your clients' personal business and your involvement in it is confidential, and we take a big chance when we don't honor that confidentiality.

Bill's Wikipedia Biography

Bill Cherry, Realtors, Web Site

Real estate tends to attract people who believe there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow waiting for them; and a big majority of those people think the rest of the world doesn't know about it.  The latest myths center around buying foreclosed properties and "flipping" them.  Both very dangerous uses of your credit.

You see, it has been said so many times that everyone apparently believes it.  Here it is: "Banks don't want to get stuck with foreclosed property so they'll sell it at a big discount."

In my experience the standard comment that banks don't want to take back collateral is true, but it infers the wrong conclusion. 

Early in my career, I worked for a bank in St. Louis.  One morning we came to work and the bank's huge parking lot was packed with repossessed school buses.  Maybe 75 of them.  The school district had missed one too many payments.

Another time it was row after row of brand new mobile homes.  And let's don't even mention a dealer's new car inventory.

I'm here to tell you that if you don't pay, the bank has no compunction about foreclosing its lien.  I don't care what the guy on TV says, or the new book at Barnes & Noble pontificates.

Now here's what happens next.

The property is then transferred into a Balance Sheet account called "Real Estate Owned (REO)", and if it is not rented, it becomes a non-earning asset.  After a short period of time, the bank is required by the regulations to set up a Reserve for Loss General Ledger account for the property.  That formula is also specified by the regulations. 

The only thing banks don't like about this is that it restricts their ability to accrue earnings on the repossessed/foreclosed asset, and it totally stops their accrual of earnings on the funds transferred to reserve for loss account.  Further those reserves cannot be included in the formula that determines how much the bank can borrow from the Federal Reserve.

But then worse than either of those to the bank is selling the property at a loss because that affects profits.

So the bottom line is, the prudent management of a bank is not in any hurry to redeem foreclosed property, especially if it is going to challenge their bottom line.  And for a similar reason, they see no benefit in reworking existing loans in an effort to head-off foreclosures.

That's why phone calls to them aren't returned, lots of time transpires before they respond to the problem, and you aren't the bearer of good news, whether you're an investor or a Realtor.

Nevertheless, real estate people chase the idea of foreclosed real estate being their pot of gold at the end of the rainbow...they think all they need to do is figure out how to work within the bank's "system."  The only system they practice with bravura is the one they use to get these callers out of their hair.

Jay Beckingham, one of our colleagues in Florida, wrote a teriffic blog on foreclosed property.  I commend it to you.

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS, WEB SITE

            There was a time when American Airlines was one of the most respected passenger carriers in the United States.  I'm talking about a time when fares were regulated and the number of direct flights was far less than today.

            In the 1950s, American Airlines advertising and marketing consultants came up with a brilliant idea.  The company would broadcast a nightly program on the biggest radio station in each market the carrier served.  Dallas, Chicago, New Orleans, Los Angeles, New York, Washington, D.C. 

            The list goes on.

            It would be called "American Airlines' Music ‘til Dawn," and it would be hosted by a mellow-voiced announcer with a romantic fullness.  He would intersperse dreamy classical and popular orchestrations with poetry readings and thoughts about the places American Airlines served.

            So the advertising and marketing consultants bought time on the stations, provided the concept to the management of each station and let them run with it.  What occurred was the host of the program at each station produced their individual interpretation of what "Music ‘til Dawn" should be...what it should sound like. 

            Consequently, there was no continuity among stations, and the listener surveys that followed showed the program was failing miserably in almost every market.

            However, before they pulled the program nationwide, the advertising and marketing consultants thought they should revisit their idea.  So they sent representatives to each market, and the representative checked into a hotel, turned on the radio, and secretly recorded that city's station's interpretation of "Music ‘til Dawn" on a reel-to-reel recorder.

            They brought their tapes back, and they holed up in the conference room and listened to all of them.  But it really didn't take but a few hours to realize the problem.  There was no continuity.  What each guy was doing didn't sound anything like what any of the others were doing.

            So, the marketing people went to each station and auditioned announcers in that market until they found a voice that fit their concept.  They all sounded fairly much alike.  They were then contracted by AA and paid a talent fee.

            Next, the marketing team scripted and provided the play list for each night.  So at anytime during the evening, within a few seconds one way or the other, all of the programs would be playing the same song and the announcer would be reading the same script.

            And a theme song, an orchestration of "That's All," introduced and ended each evening's program, and also ran under the announcer's voice at anytime the mike was open.

            This time it was a huge success.  It ran for a number of years.

            And today, there are blog sites that devote page after page of recollections about "Music ‘til Dawn."  Dallas' Hugh Lampman, as far as I'm concerned, was the very best of the hosts.  I have always believed he was American Airlines' model.

 <<===Hugh Lampman, KRLD

           I had the good fortune of hosting "Music ‘til Dawn" in New Orleans while I was a student at Tulane University in the late 1950s.  I'm not sure why I was chosen. Bill's Music til Dawn I am positive I did not begin to match Hugh Lampman's presentation on Dallas' KRLD.

            Nevertheless, there is a very important lesson here for real estate sales people and brokerage companies.  Your greatest chance of success comes with the continuity of your presentation and marketing.  Your greatest chance of failure comes when you choose to "do it your own way" instead -- "I want to do it in my own words."  That doesn't cut it.

          It's the lesson American Airlines spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to learn.  And by reading their story here, you got a business model at no charge.

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS, WEB SITE

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS

DALLAS - HIGHLAND PARK

Our 45th Year

214 503-8563

Federal Judge Samuel Kent presides over a very imporant federal court that's located in Texas. Federal judges have lifetime appointments.

Recently, he agreed to not hear any cases until after the first of the year. The gossips and the public lynch men have risen to the occasion, claiming that Judge Kent must be guilty of improprieties.

"Off with his head!" they are screaming, and at least one Texas newspaper is following suit, writing editorial after editorial and slanted story after slanted story advancing hearsay as if it were admissable evidence.

Legal and philosophic scholars worldwide express many concepts in the language of Latin.

One of those is "argumentum ad hominem."

Another is "argumentum ex silentio."

Translated, "argumentum ad hominem" is an appeal to the listener's logic, not by using pertinent facts and information but by using irrelevant attacks on the personality of one's opponent.

"Argumentum ex silentio" is trying to get someone to adopt a conclusion that is based on the absence of empirical data. "He has to be a bad guy because my friend says he is." What?

It seems to me that Judge Samuel Kent has found himself in a situation that combines "argumentum ad hominem" with "argumentum ex silentio."

So, with that, some have concluded that the time has come to destroy him.

Paradoxically, in this case, it amounts to an attempt to publicly indict and try a federal jurist, of all people, without the use of a courtroom, proper presentation of evidence and adjudication as our Bill of Rights guarantees every citizen.

I know two things about Samuel Kent.

One is that I have never heard anyone deliver a better talk on what it means to be an American than he did on two occasions before the Galveston Rotary Club.

And all without notes. The words and thoughts flowed. The audience was mesmerized.

The second was when a casual friend of mine was tried in Judge Kent's court. (Actually his mom and dad were longtime friends of my mom and dad, and that's how I knew him.)

The feds had decided my friend had developed some sort of clandestine method of white-collar stealing from a bank, a bank he didn't even work for.

Judge Kent listened for about an hour and then admonished the U.S. attorneys for bringing the case before him.

He ruled that my friend was not only a man of character but, primarily, was not smart enough to have dreamed up such a scheme.

"Bang," there went the gavel.

Judge Kent was right.

My friend was a man of character and, even had he had a previously undetectable character flaw, it couldn't have manifested itself in a scheme to steal from a bank.

He absolutely wasn't that smart.

Until and unless we're able to hear credible evidence to the contrary, maybe you and others wouldn't mind thinking of these two good things that Judge Kent did in the name of the Bill of Rights.

Bill Cherry is the author of Galveston Memories, a collection of columns published in The Daily News.

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS, WEB SITE

The Church of the Incarnation is an Episcopal church in downtown Dallas with a membership of some 5,000.  The church is of gothic revival architecture.  Congregants worship among glorious stained glass windows and the superior fullness of an organ that boasts more than 4,000 pipes.

With frequency, members of other denominations join Incarnation members for a service held each Sunday at 5 PM.  It is known as Evensong.

The tradition of Evensong, which dates back to the middle 1600s, is totally sung by Incarnation’s exceptional choir.  The big organ’s background accentuates the loveliness of the service.

The Holy Eucharist, as a short additional service, follows.  And in the Episcopal Church, all baptized Christians, regardless of their denominational affiliation, are welcome to participate in receiving the Lord’s Supper.

The Church of the Incarnation takes up the block of 3900 McKinney.  More information is available at Episcopal Church Evensong

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BLOG

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS, WEB SITE

If you know singer Glen Campbell's real relationship with the Galveston Island, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to the story than that a songwriter named Jimmy Webb wrote these words and tune, and that Glen sang them:

Galveston, oh Galveston. I still hear your sea winds blowin'

I still see her dark eyes glowin'

She was 21 when I left Galveston.

and the last verse....

Galveston, oh Galveston. I am so afraid of dying

Before I dry the tears she's crying

Before I watch your sea birds flying in the sun

At Galveston, at Galveston.

Glen Campbell was born in rural Arkansas and was one of 12 children. Somehow his dad scraped up enough money to buy him a Sears Roebuck guitar. By the time Glen was 16, he had dropped out of school and had left home for big city lights where he was sure he would be able to play gigs full-time.

That was 1953. And that was when he hitched-hiked his way to the chase lights and neon of Galveston, with the hopes of being able to sign on with one of the big bands or a famous act that was playing here at the Balinese Room, the Studio Lounge or the Pleasure Pier's Marine Ballroom. A lot of unknown talent took that chance back then. And sometimes it worked. It did for wonderful jazz pianist, Johnny Garcia, whose music and personality Galvestonians still miss.

But for most, just like Glen found, all that was available was to play for tips at Louise Bird's Pirate Club, a second rate nightclub, or at a Postoffice or Market Street cathouse, and to save enough money to move on to the next Town of Dreams with the hope that Mother Fate, this time, would shine her light on them. It was at Miss Jesse's Postoffice Street cathouse where Glenn played.

By 1961, Glen Campbell had left Galveston and had zig zagged his way to Los Angeles where he found a market for his extraordinary talent as a guitar player. As a studio musician he played in the record sessions of artists like Sinatra, Elvis, the Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, Dean Martin and Nat "King" Cole. By 1968, he was hosting his own TV show, "Glen Campbell's Goodtime Hour." It was the following year, 1969, when "Galveston" was born and become another of his extraordinary hits.

So Galveston's then-mayor, Eddie Schreiber and his wife flew to Los Angles and were in the audience when Glen sang it on his show. Then Glen came into the audience and introduced the Schreibers, and they stood and waved to the audience and the millions watching nationwide. What an extraordinary boost from an entertainer whose only gig in that city had been in one of its cathouses.

A while back, Glen Campbell came back to Galveston to play its Grand 1894 Opera House.  He packed the theater Saturday and Sunday, and, as you can imagine, brought the house down when he sang "Galveston."

Now days, the most requested Glen Campbell song is not one of his famous hits like "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" or "Galveston." Instead, it's a tune written by Jerry Reed, "Today Is Mine." Dallas' KAAM-AM morning man Jaan McCoy said that for years that lovely ballad has been one of the most asked for songs by his audience. I noticed that as is with the case of "Galveston," the words could easily be autobiographical.

When the sun came up this morning, I took the time to watch it rise

And as its beauty struck the darkness from the sky

I thought how small and unimportant all of my troubles seem to be

And how lucky another day belongs to me.....

Like most men I've cursed the present to avoid the peace of mind

And raised my thoughts beyond tomorrow and visioned there more peace of mind

But as I view this day around me, I can see the fool I've been

For today is the only garden we can tend

Today is mine.

If you listen to the lyrics of "Galveston," it's hard not to know in your gut there's a story that has not been fully revealed to us, about a 16-year old from rural Arkansas, who came to the big lights of Galveston, played in a cathouse where he saw illegitimate love for the first time, and tried to make sense of it all. Every Galveston teenage boy of that era wrestled with that. The common thread? "Maybe I can rescue her from that life."

And then there is the final paradox of this story. Scott Arthur, a well-known Houston DJ who frequently plays Glen's recordings,  also has a business called "High Spirit Tours." It takes Galveston visitors on narrated trips to the island's haunted places. Wouldn't you know that one of those reported-to-be haunted buildings is Miss Jesse's Postoffice Street cathouse, the place where old Glen played for tips more than 50 years ago.

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS, WEB SITE

Copyright 2004 -William S. Cherry

A few weeks ago, the mother of three of my very favorite ladies passed away.  She died the day before her 94th birthday.  Her name was Dorothy McDonald.

            Her middle daughter, Mary, and I went through school together.  Her youngest daughter, Kathryn (Taubert), found her life as a jazz singer, and I helped her a bit at the beginning of her career.  And her oldest daughter, Dorothy, was an airline hostess who flew internationally back in the days when that was a very romantic job for a young woman to have.

            I especially loved Mrs. McDonald's husband.  I called him Mr. Mac.  He drove a Jeep, liked to fish, messed with ham radios, was the father of three knock-outs, and liked kids - all of the things that especially appealed to me.  And he was never too busy to do things with us.

            Now, there are three of us boys who have been close for a lifetime; more than fifty years.  Each of us knows that we can always depend on the other two. 

            My friend Victor Damiani and I were unable to go to Mrs. McDonald's funeral, but the Third Musketeer, J.E. Tramonte, went to represent all three of us.  Our ambassador; and everyone there knew he was.  It was almost the same as our being there.  It certainly was in that spirit.

            At the funeral, Mrs. McDonald's daughter Kathryn read a poem that her mom had written.  I have the family's permission to share it with you. 

HAPPINESS, REMEMBER?

Summer

Wispy curtains, whispering in the morning breeze-warm butter toast and "cambric" tea - bare feet in cool grass (tickly) school is out!

     Shout of friends (can you play?). Racing with flushed faces   .

A picnic basket, cane poles .... fishing in the creek .... clear water trickling over the stark white stones ... minnows quivering!

Wading ... ah ecstasy!

      ........ children - rest now! (Giggle) .. Jack Stones on a cool

smooth porch (bounce, bounce) - pick-ups, sheep in a pen, horses under the bridge, sky-rocket!. .... peanut butter crackers up in a tree .. oo.higher and higher -look down .. oooh! !. .... Sprinkler (softly) on a

parched lawn. Ghostly shadows moving - hide and seek! "You're It!" .... Violet sky - "Big Dipper" - "Little Dipper" - "Seven Sisters" ­"Jacob's Ladder"! Sno-cone Man - Ding-a-Ling!

     Children! Bedtime! Now Ilay me soft cool white sheets       .

Fall

New starched clothes on sun-bum ... aching feel- school! Pencil boxes, shiny lunch pail.. oohomework! "Do it first"! Cool breeze gently ...

First norther. .. ah! Softly falling leaves-swish-swish-curls of fragrant blue gray smoke along the block - Happy melodious voices - "How are you"? Sweep, sweep .. 00 "Children-be careful"!!

Jack-o-Lantern with bright orange windows-walnut shell boats drifting softly - crunchy glorious apples-wet shiny cherubic faces with popcorn ball glitter.. ooHooded goblins with red crayola eyes ...

Boo! Boo! Hallowe'en!. .. Snow-flakes?? Black & white paper pilgrims looking through the window=turkey, pumpkin pie, salted nuts ... Ah ... no more please - Drowsy, flushed angel faces .. oonodding .. 00.

Winter

White softness - crystal clear icicles hanging-one falling (plop!) Creak of bare branches - red cheeks - nose (sniff) wet stiff Shoes drying by a hot fire - hot soup -fresh gingerbread - cold apples! Fragrant emerald tree - "Oh Holy Night"!

Red Candles-paper chains-sparklers!

Spring!

Green things .. oospeckled bird eggs, silver notes from a tree, Easter church bells - Anticipation! !

Happiness ahead - Remember?

BILL'S WIKIPEDIA BIOGRAPHY

Copyright 2006 - Dorothy McDonald; Copyright 2007 - William S. Cherry