Today we have the much-criticized “hipster” culture. Back then, preceding the “hippie” culture, were the Beatniks. February 1961 my parents and their friends decided to mock Beatnik culture – a creative way to have fun in Iowa in the middle of the most depressing month! My dad is at the left, with the bongos. My mother is looking cool center stage in black beret with cigarette.
It was 1970-something. Back row: Dave, Debbie Ross, Stephanie Beller, Marla St. Clair; Front Row: Jeff Hanson, Susannah Ross, me.
The car belonged to my friend and youth-group leader, Dave Finnegan. From the first night we met, at a Tuesday night Inter-Church Youth (ICY) meeting, I thought he was awesome. Gentle of spirit, kind, and incredibly smart. Not a bad volleyball player. Or too shabby with that guitar.
In the ensuing 35 or so years since we met, Dave has been an important influence on my life AND a member of my family – he and my sister Chris were married a couple of years after this photo. They raised two amazing sons, my nephews Ben and Tim, together. And they have weathered more than their share of serious illness – Dave faced several bouts of cancer, culminating in a Stage IV diagnosis and a grueling experimental treatment program at M.D. Anderson in Houston (he has been cancer free since then, approximately twenty years). My sister, Chris, will have surgery on Tuesday for her second round with breast cancer.
What I want to say about Dave in this Flashback is that I couldn’t have chosen anyone better for my sister’s life companion. You know how it is with in-laws: they marry into a family like ours (big, loud, opinionated) and can spend years figuring out how not to be chewed up and spit out. Dave maintains his calm, faithful and principled presence – occasionally making us groan at his terrible puns. In the coming weeks, he will be the gentle rock upon which my sister will lean – and by virtue of his presence where we can’t be, we will all lean on him to an extent (poor guy). After more than three decades, I can say with complete trust that he’s up to the task. I thank God, and my brother Dave, for that!
Yesterday’s post was all about learning to live with and embrace a little mess (or a lot, truthfully) in life. So I decided to show the flip side today: I can be every bit as house-proud as the next person! In this photo, my sister Chris and I show off our new room in the new house in Hastings, Minnesota. The whole house was pretty groovy, but we got to select the yellow and orange mixed shag carpet, which set the tone for the whole space. I’m not sure how we slept at night with the glow from all the yellow, but we somehow managed. And we loved it. (Gwen and Annie shared a two-tone pink room with a Holly Hobby theme; Matt and Jeff shared a patriotic red, white and blue room, decorated with Jeff’s model rockets). What can I say? It was the early 1970s and we were livin’ the dream!
Left to right: Jay Eccleston, Pam Sessa, me, Charlie Sturm
This weekend Clarke College, now University, will be celebrating Homecoming. As usual, I have no intention of attending the events. Since graduating in 1983, I’ve attended one weekend – and it was the stuff of a comedy movie. By brunch on Sunday morning, the only friend still speaking to me was Charlie, who was doing so simply because he needed someone to rehash my litany of embarrassing drunken faux pas with, and I was grateful to have someone seen interacting with me.
The fact that the number of college friends I still know is small doesn’t detract from my overall positive feelings about my college experience. Clarke was the best possible fit for me, and I will remain ever grateful that I fell into it. There isn’t one person I knew there I wouldn’t be glad to see today, especially if they would talk to me! So, to all you Clarkies out there – Happy Homecoming.
Flashback Friday returns as the result of reader requests. Generally, the photos shared are from the deep past, though occasionally one from the more recent past (such as today’s) will creep into the mix. I thought this photo was fitting for the return of F.F. since we are clearly toasting an occasion.
The moment was Saturday brunch in April 2011, at a great restaurant in Chicago (name escapes me now – Uncommon Ground?) with wonderful food and – here’s the important part – a wide selection of caffeinated beverages. Around the table: Wendy Jo (friend of the family), my niece Zoe, sister Annie, brother Matt and his wife Maria. My fully-leaded beverage was in a huge bowl-style cup, like Anne’s, which is why I couldn’t lift it and snap the picture at the same time.
I belong to a family of caffeine addicts. My brother Jeff and his wife Marsha own a coffeeshop. My dad makes the morning pot of coffee the night before, just to shave a few minutes from the lag time between waking and pouring hot coffee down his throat. We are forever on the look-out for cups just the right size – big enough not to be refilled every 30 seconds, small enough that the coffee stays hot while you drink it.
It is possible I never married because I never found a man who would do what my father did every morning for my mother: get up, make the coffee, and carry a steaming hot cup to me before I got out of bed.
The flashback photo for today is of my parents and my older sister, Chris. Tomorrow is Chris’ birthday, and it seemed fitting to offer a few thoughts on the woman who has been there every single day of my life! Despite all the years of arguing to the contrary, I have to admit it is no easy task to be the first-born child – especially if you are lucky enough to have a gaggle of younger siblings. Chris took her role as eldest seriously, caring for us, teaching us, scolding us, and loving us. And she continues to be there for us. When my niece, Zoe was born with some complications, who did my youngest brother Matt turn to for advice? When I just want to hear the voice of someone who will help me feel “normal” (whether I am sick or just tired), Chris is the person I call.
I love this particular photo of Chris, face squeezed between our parents, looking a little unsure about whether this is a good thing. Its a look I’ve seen on her face throughout our lives – she for sure has an idea how this photo could be better, she’s just too young to direct it! And even though we all tease her mercilessly about her need to control situations, we would, in truth, be lost without her planning and problem-solving skills. At the graduation of one of my nephews, a woman from Chris’ church said, “So, you’re Jeni! Wow, I bet it was tough for you growing up with Chris! She must have been a little on the bossy side!” Wow, someone was finally affirming my childhood pain. But as I looked around me, at the joy and pleasure on the faces of my sister’s friends and family, at the smoothly run reception which allowed everyone to be relaxed and celebrate the occasion, I found myself irritated that this woman had the gall to criticize my sister. I told her, “Shut up and mind your own beeswax!” Not really. But I told her the truth, that I was thankful for every minute of it!
In this photo: (back: Jeff, Marsha, Jack; middle: Shirley, me; front: Rachel, Myka)
Unfortunately, I don’t have any of the photos from Rachel’s youngest days scanned onto my computer, however, you can still see what a sweet little girl she was in this one! Today, I’m heading up to Cedar Falls to attend Rachel’s high school graduation party. I can’t believe its here already. Rachel is still one of the sweetest young people I know, and funny, patient, kind…really amazed by the person she is becoming!
HAPPY GRADUATION, RAE!
Hanson Family Portrait circa 1970
Front row: Anne, Jeff, Gwen, Jeni, Chris
Back row: Jackson, Matt, Shirley
One of the reasons that I love this photo is it illustrates what the following statement really means: 6 kids in 9 years. Chris was born in June 1960 and Matt in July 1969. My mother was alone with the six of us much of the time, and I can only say (with the benefit of hindsight) how grateful I am not only for everything she DID, but also for all the things she didn’t do — like lose her sanity (held on with her fingernails a few times!), take up child abuse, put us up for adoption when we got mouthy…
Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who taught my siblings, by example, how to be such great parents!
In this photo, my Mother attempts to corral the “originals”: Chris, Jeff, Gwen (back to camera), and me. I’m in some world other than the one in which my picture is being taken! In fact, one of the things I love about this photo is that not a single one of us is paying any attention to my father as he attempts to take it. We are all in our Easter finery, Jeff looks especially dapper, but our attention spans are not boding well for Easter Mass, which I am certain is where we were headed!
