I was surprised to learn about a car accident early last week that involved a relative in my family. I became shocked to learn that she had died. Her name was Vicky and was a second-cousin to me. We weren't all that close, but I remember her from the visits she made with her family during my town's Homecoming celebration each August. It was the one time of the year that I would see them, as they never visited any other time. She was married but had no children. But she is an individual I will never forget, and this blog will be a remembrance to her life.
I don't remember much about our visits anymore, but I remember her being a very friendly and outgoing person to talk to. She would discuss just about anything. One coversation I remember was quite vivid to me. Her father had just died less than a year or so (him being my great uncle, in fact), and she asked my dad what it was like to experience his father's death (since his dad/my grandpa passed away years earlier). Obviously it was still painful for her and it was kind of odd for me to hear my dad discuss the death of his father, because I could never recall him discussing his feelings about it. Because of this, it's one of those memories I will never forget.
She had already experienced a freak accident earlier in her life. I can't remember the exact details of the accident, but the car that she and her husband owned would not start. Unfortunately they tried using gas in the engine compartment and it exploded in Vicky's face. She had second and third degree burns on her face and was scarred for the rest of her life. She was lucky it wasn't as serious as it was and she wasn't seriously disfigured as you would think. But there were noticable scars on her face. Whenever my dad and I would visit her and the rest of her family, they'd always offer us candy, cookies, you name it. They were a family that liked to smoke and drink, so it was not uncommon to see them at the local bar drunk out of their minds. But they were fun people and liked to have a good time. You can't blame them for that. Just so long as they didn't get behind the wheel in that condition.
It had been at least three or four years since I had last seen them during Homecoming. Apparently they haven't even attended the town's celebration the past couple of years because of a family dispute. I think that's a shame, considering it was the only time they'd come to the U.P. during the year. And now Vicky won't ever be able to enjoy a U.P. summer's day again.
As I said earlier, Vicky was involved in a serious car accident sometime earlier this month and spent some time in the hospital recovering. She had experienced severe bruising in her brain, yet the hospital felt it was safe for her to recover at home. However, when her husband left and came back later, she was gone. I do not know the details as to why she died at home, but more than likely it was because of the injury to her brain. Either the swelling worsened or she experienced a sudden stroke due to the extent of her accident. I can't speculate because I don't know what really happened. But it's such a sad ending to such a vibrant person.
Needless to say, our time together was rather short, but Vicky is a person I will never forget. You hear about these kinds of accidents everyday. But when it involves a family member, it's even sadder to find out how vulnerable we all are.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Friday, February 16, 2007
Just Not the Same
This is a big weekend around here. The annual dogsled race is taking place the next three days across the region, spanning a total of 240+ miles. I used to be so excited for this event and once February rolled around, I knew I wouldn't have to wait much longer. My hometown used to be a checkpoint for the race and the start of a smaller dogsled race that took place the same day. It used to draw a lot of people to the community and I always enjoyed attending the race, even in the most frigid of weather. But all that changed about three years ago, when race officials made a major change to the race course and plotted new checkpoints. That meant my town was no longer a checkpoint and the race just basically went right on by without much fanfare. Along with the changes went my enthusiasm for the race.
I can vaguely remember my first dogsled race. It must have been the second or third year that the races existed and I had no clue they were going on (of course, I was rather young then, too). My dad and I took a walk towards town and saw lines of cars parked along the side of the highway. As we approached the downtown, streets were blocked off and these oddly shaped trucks were parked randomly through the village. I even remember going up close to one of the dogsled trucks, as small eyes peered toward me from one of the main cages holding the dogs. Just a short distance away, I heard small yelps from another truck. It was an amazing sight to see, especially in the middle of winter. And when you are as young as eight or nine years old, an event like a dogsled race becomes something very impressive. We walked down a hill towards the railroad tracks. In the summer time, this is our usual walking path through the village. But in the winter time, it's transpired into a snowmobile trail. And on this night, it became the trail for the dogsled race. Bright orange snow-fencing lined the trails with hay bales helping to outline the track. The bales actually became convenient seats for those individuals who were lucky enough to get a seat right up in front to watch the race. We watched the festivities from the back as the dogs lined up to the starting gate and the crowd would countdown until the sled took off and sped down the trail into the darkness. As the night progressed and people began leaving, we made our way towards the front and got a front row seat. We watched as team after team left the village on their way to the next checkpoint. Soon, my feet were froze and my hands getting chilled and it was time to go. But what a first hand experience that was.
In total, I only missed one dogsled event in a ten year span since that first race. It was always enjoyable meeting up with friends and watching the races with them or enjoying it with family members. The last few years that my town was the checkpoint, I went by myself. Even then, I enjoyed seeing all of the sights and sounds of the dogsled races. But now I don't have the same enthusiasm for the races. Tonight, the race begins in the city where I have my apartment. But I'd rather just sit at home and watch the local news coverage of the races instead of freezing my rear-end off waiting for the dogs to take off. The best memories are when I attended the races in my hometown and now that things are different, it's just not the same. Nothing can compare to the memories I hold of what used to be, even if it's still the same dogsled race that I used to attend for all those years.
I can vaguely remember my first dogsled race. It must have been the second or third year that the races existed and I had no clue they were going on (of course, I was rather young then, too). My dad and I took a walk towards town and saw lines of cars parked along the side of the highway. As we approached the downtown, streets were blocked off and these oddly shaped trucks were parked randomly through the village. I even remember going up close to one of the dogsled trucks, as small eyes peered toward me from one of the main cages holding the dogs. Just a short distance away, I heard small yelps from another truck. It was an amazing sight to see, especially in the middle of winter. And when you are as young as eight or nine years old, an event like a dogsled race becomes something very impressive. We walked down a hill towards the railroad tracks. In the summer time, this is our usual walking path through the village. But in the winter time, it's transpired into a snowmobile trail. And on this night, it became the trail for the dogsled race. Bright orange snow-fencing lined the trails with hay bales helping to outline the track. The bales actually became convenient seats for those individuals who were lucky enough to get a seat right up in front to watch the race. We watched the festivities from the back as the dogs lined up to the starting gate and the crowd would countdown until the sled took off and sped down the trail into the darkness. As the night progressed and people began leaving, we made our way towards the front and got a front row seat. We watched as team after team left the village on their way to the next checkpoint. Soon, my feet were froze and my hands getting chilled and it was time to go. But what a first hand experience that was.
In total, I only missed one dogsled event in a ten year span since that first race. It was always enjoyable meeting up with friends and watching the races with them or enjoying it with family members. The last few years that my town was the checkpoint, I went by myself. Even then, I enjoyed seeing all of the sights and sounds of the dogsled races. But now I don't have the same enthusiasm for the races. Tonight, the race begins in the city where I have my apartment. But I'd rather just sit at home and watch the local news coverage of the races instead of freezing my rear-end off waiting for the dogs to take off. The best memories are when I attended the races in my hometown and now that things are different, it's just not the same. Nothing can compare to the memories I hold of what used to be, even if it's still the same dogsled race that I used to attend for all those years.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Getting Back Into It
Yeow. It's been nearly three weeks since I last wrote in my little blog, and for those of you who may have come to depend on me writing here every few days or so, I am sorry I have let you down. I don't know what happens, but every once in awhile, I just don't feel like writing - simply put. That's what has been going on during those three weeks. So nothing serious has happened to me; just simply laziness, I guess. I come rejuvinated and energized to do some serious writing the next few weeks.
The last time I wrote to you, things at work had not been very pleasing. Many changes have taken place within the time I last wrote, including personnel changes on each crew and a new schedule. There was some awkwardness to get past at first when dealing with different people on the crew, but all of that is now in the past. I must admit, there were a couple of days there where all of a sudden, those changes affected me hard and I was depressed. I even seriously considered posting out of my department. But I tell you, I feel much better about circumstances now, and feel we have the best crew in the mill (just as I thought with the old crew, before things were changed around). Yes, we do have our weaknesses and there are areas of the mine as a whole that the crew is not all that familiar with. But, we are working through those issues. I think it really helped me that I worked with many of the people on my crew already in the past, otherwise I think the transition would've been more difficult. But all in all, things are going much better at work than what I reported to you last. Even the schedule seems halfway decent, although our crew has only had to work two 12-hour shifts thus far. That changes this coming weekend.
I don't want to focus too much on work in this particular blog, since the previous two blogs were heavily focused on work and were rather negative on my part. I just wanted to update the readers out there who may be interested in knowing what all has happened at my place of employment during the past three weeks. Now onto the other half of the blog:
I don't know how I came to think about this, but I began to recall a high school memory from out of the blue. I don't know if I had been day dreaming or what, but I remember my class bringing a live band to our school back when we were freshman in high school. Oh yes, I remember what made me think of this. There was a clip regarding a local band playing at Michigan Tech University in Houghton on the local news, and in the clip was a band setting up on Tech's gymnasium floor. I saw that picture, and then I remember what we did back in high school. See, our class was sort of revolutionary in a way. We wanted to do things differently instead of doing the same traditional activities year after year. All of the school dances during high school usually consisted of a deejay playing songs. Well, the one dance we hosted during our freshman year, we brought a live band to the school. And I can tell ya, it was one of the coolest things I had ever seen. The atmosphere in the gym was electric, the lights were bright, and the music was quite loud. We even held the dance in the new gymnasium instead of the old, where all of the other dances were usually held. It ended up being a "sock hop," which meant we couldn't wear any sort of shoes on the gym floor, since it was the main gym for playing basketball in. We had to protect the floor, so we basically just danced in our socks. And I can remember being on the dance floor with only a dozen other people, but it was a blast. It had been years prior to that that a live band was brought to our school; I had heard as far back as the 1970's. So we were doing something unique that hadn't been done in a long time. And I can't take any credit for this, since I was not part of my class' elected representatives. But it was one of those fond memories that I enjoyed about my group of classmates.
Another case of us wanting to be different; when it was our turn to host the junior-senior prom, we held it at a venue where it had never been held prior before. It was held in a luxurious hotel in downtown Marquette. And although it was a beautiful place, I must admit it was a little too cramped for comforts, in my opinion (not a lot of space on the dance floor). It was a nice evening and an event worth going to (even though my date for the prom was a total disappointment), and another example of our class wanting to be different. We even held different fundraisers that no other class had ever hosted. Let's just say we wanted make things interesting and fun for people. It's one of the things I admired about my class; we dared to be different, and it never hurt us in the end.
It's amazing how out of touch I am with everyone that I graduated with. I don't even know where the majority of the people from my class are nowadays. I remember people telling me to "stay in touch" and to "never change." Those are some of the messages in my yearbooks, in fact. No, I haven't really changed much, but I certainly am not in touch with many of those people, I hate to say. And this year marks the seventh year I've been out of high school. It seems like so long ago, yet not really. I remember reliving memories regarding the year 2000, especially those involving the Y2K scare. It seems like yesterday, and we're already seven years removed from that event. Unbelievable.
So even though the years continue to pass by, I still recall some rather vivid memories of high school. And I had better write them down now because soon enough, I probably won't be able to recall very many as the years breeze on by.
The last time I wrote to you, things at work had not been very pleasing. Many changes have taken place within the time I last wrote, including personnel changes on each crew and a new schedule. There was some awkwardness to get past at first when dealing with different people on the crew, but all of that is now in the past. I must admit, there were a couple of days there where all of a sudden, those changes affected me hard and I was depressed. I even seriously considered posting out of my department. But I tell you, I feel much better about circumstances now, and feel we have the best crew in the mill (just as I thought with the old crew, before things were changed around). Yes, we do have our weaknesses and there are areas of the mine as a whole that the crew is not all that familiar with. But, we are working through those issues. I think it really helped me that I worked with many of the people on my crew already in the past, otherwise I think the transition would've been more difficult. But all in all, things are going much better at work than what I reported to you last. Even the schedule seems halfway decent, although our crew has only had to work two 12-hour shifts thus far. That changes this coming weekend.
I don't want to focus too much on work in this particular blog, since the previous two blogs were heavily focused on work and were rather negative on my part. I just wanted to update the readers out there who may be interested in knowing what all has happened at my place of employment during the past three weeks. Now onto the other half of the blog:
I don't know how I came to think about this, but I began to recall a high school memory from out of the blue. I don't know if I had been day dreaming or what, but I remember my class bringing a live band to our school back when we were freshman in high school. Oh yes, I remember what made me think of this. There was a clip regarding a local band playing at Michigan Tech University in Houghton on the local news, and in the clip was a band setting up on Tech's gymnasium floor. I saw that picture, and then I remember what we did back in high school. See, our class was sort of revolutionary in a way. We wanted to do things differently instead of doing the same traditional activities year after year. All of the school dances during high school usually consisted of a deejay playing songs. Well, the one dance we hosted during our freshman year, we brought a live band to the school. And I can tell ya, it was one of the coolest things I had ever seen. The atmosphere in the gym was electric, the lights were bright, and the music was quite loud. We even held the dance in the new gymnasium instead of the old, where all of the other dances were usually held. It ended up being a "sock hop," which meant we couldn't wear any sort of shoes on the gym floor, since it was the main gym for playing basketball in. We had to protect the floor, so we basically just danced in our socks. And I can remember being on the dance floor with only a dozen other people, but it was a blast. It had been years prior to that that a live band was brought to our school; I had heard as far back as the 1970's. So we were doing something unique that hadn't been done in a long time. And I can't take any credit for this, since I was not part of my class' elected representatives. But it was one of those fond memories that I enjoyed about my group of classmates.
Another case of us wanting to be different; when it was our turn to host the junior-senior prom, we held it at a venue where it had never been held prior before. It was held in a luxurious hotel in downtown Marquette. And although it was a beautiful place, I must admit it was a little too cramped for comforts, in my opinion (not a lot of space on the dance floor). It was a nice evening and an event worth going to (even though my date for the prom was a total disappointment), and another example of our class wanting to be different. We even held different fundraisers that no other class had ever hosted. Let's just say we wanted make things interesting and fun for people. It's one of the things I admired about my class; we dared to be different, and it never hurt us in the end.
It's amazing how out of touch I am with everyone that I graduated with. I don't even know where the majority of the people from my class are nowadays. I remember people telling me to "stay in touch" and to "never change." Those are some of the messages in my yearbooks, in fact. No, I haven't really changed much, but I certainly am not in touch with many of those people, I hate to say. And this year marks the seventh year I've been out of high school. It seems like so long ago, yet not really. I remember reliving memories regarding the year 2000, especially those involving the Y2K scare. It seems like yesterday, and we're already seven years removed from that event. Unbelievable.
So even though the years continue to pass by, I still recall some rather vivid memories of high school. And I had better write them down now because soon enough, I probably won't be able to recall very many as the years breeze on by.
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