Panoramic Views of Our Summer Home

Last summer, Liv and I had the opportunity to spend our summer at Culver Academies' Summer Schools and Camps.

Back when I was a teen, I'd spent two summers at Upper Camp (for kids 14-17 years old) and had a BLAST! And then I ended up having the opportunity to go to high school at Culver Girls Academy.

In May 2014, Andrew, Liv, and I went back to Culver to celebrate my 25th reunion with my classmates (and I'd been to each of my previous 5-year reunions at the 5, 10, 15, and 20 year points). During our time there in 2014, Liv was old enough (at 8 years old) to experience a "Mini Woodcraft Camp" which is an abbreviated version of their summer Woodcraft Camp (for kids 9-14). This is a fantastic experience for kids, where they learn leadership skills and responsibility, and can experience a whole host of activities, from equestrian sports to sailing, ice skating, astronomy, soccer, archery, and even Quiddich (from Harry Potter fame), among many other things.

Anyway, during our weekend at Culver in 2014, since Liv LOVED her experience at Mini Woodcraft, Andrew and I looked into what we needed to do to get her there for Woodcraft 2015.

To make a long story short, Liv ended up attending Woodcraft  2015, and I ended up employed there as a Senior Counselor for a new Upper Camp (14-17 year olds) unit - the girls' mounted unit! So we were both able to spend the summer on a beautiful campus on Lake Maxinkuckee (aka Lake Max).

Since I've been away from blog-writing for a while, I thought I'd ease back into it by sharing a couple panoramic photos of the Culver campus I'd taken with my smart phone.

This first one was taken during the last week of camp, the last week of July 2015. (Click the pic and it should give you a larger view.)

The building off to the left is Eppley Auditorium, where theater, dance, and musical performances (both student and guest performances), movies, meetings, acting/theater/dance classes, and awards ceremonies take place. 

The buildings on the right side of the first picture are academic buildings.

I took this second pic on August 1, after camp was over, and we were ready to head home, after dropping off some final out-processing paperwork related to my employment. I had wanted to take a quick walk around campus one last time, kind of mentally saying goodbye to a place that I cherish.

You'll see the Culver Memorial Chapel just to the left of center, with its steeple pointing skyward. The castle-like building to the right of the clump of trees (in the middle) is the Riding Hall. This is the home of the famous Culver Black Horse Troop and Culver Equestriennes.

(That red line on the ground in the second pic was part of the boundaries of a huge relay race that took part over the summer.) 

Okay, so I was originally planning on just posting the two panoramic pics, but I got carried away explaining. So, there you go. A couple pics with a lot of background information. I will be back soon to post more pics.

Those Famous Black Horses . . .

Thought I'd reminisce a little more, but this time, I'm heading back to Culver, Indiana (and not New Mexico). Here's a view of some of the mounts (from the late '80s) of Culver's famous Black Horse Troop . . . the same horses used for Culver Lancers and Equestriennes performances:

Circa June 1988 (click the photo to see a bigger view)

I took this photo the afternoon after graduation in 1988. This was obviously after the horses had been turned out to pasture for a summer "break."

Memory Lane Friday

This week, Memory Lane Friday is "No Theme" so we are all going to write about . . . well, very different things. At first, I was all excited because there are so many things I could write about, but then I felt overwhelmed because there are so many things to write about.

So I'm going to narrow it down to a very memorable experience I had while on horseback. Of course, I had to go the equestrian route, again. I guess I've been missing riding lately, so maybe if I write about it here, it'll help alleviate the "I miss it" feeling . . . if only just a little bit, and for just a few minutes.

Okay, this experience was BIG. When I was a student at Culver Girls Academy, I was part of the Culver Equestriennes, the mounted team that performs musical drills.

Well, every 4 years, the Presidential Inaugural rolls around. Typically, Culver Academies gets an invitation for the Black Horse Troop (a.k.a. BHT - the boys enrolled in Culver's Troop) to participate in the Inaugural Parade. For the longest time, it was just the BHT.

But then, for the January 1985 Parade (occurring months before I attended Culver as a freshman), the Equestriennes were extended an invitation, along with the BHT.

So that meant that when I became part of the Equestriennes, I'd be a part of the Culver- Inaugural tradition by the time I graduated.

And it happened, of course. My senior year, the Culver Academies were to send both the BHT and the Equestriennes for the 1989 Presidential Inaugural Parade. I almost couldn't stand the excitement.

Well, in the months leading up to the Parade, we had lots of practice - all these riders practicing staying in formation, practicing Pass in Review (what we'd do exactly when passing the President's reviewing box), practicing riding in formation with loud sounds going off all around us like cannons, emergency vehicles with sirens blaring and lights flashing, flags whipping around, having to maneuver around tires and odds and ends all around us, (to prepare the horses for anything), and just practicing, practicing, practicing. And it was COLD in NW Indiana in late fall, early winter.

I foggily remember leaving for Christmas break. Then, again in a fog, heading back to campus and having 1st semester finals, barely being able to concentrate on the exams in front of me.

I remember that our travel plans depended on our finals schedule. We had a couple "waves" of students traveling to D.C., our departure all depending on finals. I was in the first wave to leave. I remember getting my plane ticket, a booklet with the "who, what, when, where, how" - which included:

• a Code of Conduct, explaining how the Academies' trip to Washington, D.C. would an "official academy function . . . " 
• a uniform packing list for both girls and cadets, 
• horse assignments for Troop A, Troop B, and Equestriennes,
• student/faculty/staff manifest for both the earlier and later travelers,
• hotel room assignments, with "room commanders'" names in bold (yes, I was a "room commander")
• schedule of events

 It was exciting. I remember that a few days before we were to leave, we had to get our equipment ready. Since we'd had our horse assignments soon after getting the invitation, we already knew which horse we each had (because we had to practice with that horse), and the corresponding stall number. My horse was a black gelding named McClellan, #52. Each horse had a corresponding saddle, bridle, and brushes, each item with the appropriate horse's number engraved somewhere visible.

Each of us was given a big white canvas bag, with a number stenciled on it, corresponding to horse number. So, of course, in my #52 bag, I needed to put McClellan's brushes, hoof pick, saddle, a white leather double-bridle, saddle pad, white saddle pad cover (with Culver logos on it), and I think our boots and helmets.

Then the horses were loaded on to these huge horse trailers (each horse having a designated trailer number), to be driven out to D.C.

A few days later, the rest of us left.

Traveling with my pals was just too much fun. I remember that my good friend, Debra, was traveling with me on my same schedule. She was also going to be in my hotel room with me, along with two other girls. Debra and I were on the polo team together, on the Equestriennes together, and we hung out a lot. We still keep in touch.

Traveling, checking in, getting meals, and being briefed on upcoming events was just a whirlwind of excitement, and I almost couldn't wait for the big event.

Finally, it was January 20th. We had to get up early, before dawn. I remember eating attempting to eat breakfast. It felt too early to be hungry. Plus, I had butterflies due to excitement. I remember getting into the bus, Debra in the seat next to me, heading from our hotel (a Holiday Inn) in Manassas, VA to D.C.

We had a designated spot where we'd meet the horse trailers. Then we'd lead the horses to a different area to groom them and get them tacked up and then we'd mount.

I don't know how long a bus ride we had, but I dozed off. At some point I awoke with a start. Debra asked, "Did you dream you were falling?" Huh? Oh . . . I groggily explained I was just startled awake by a bump in the road.

As I blinked and looked around, I remember seeing the Capitol ahead of us in the pink/purple/raspberry/peach dawn light. It was an awesome sight. I couldn't say anything; there was nothing to say. I could only look.

We finally got to our destination. We got off the buses, each of us Equestriennes in our white shirt, stock tie, white breeches, boots, and wearing navy blue Culver sweats on top, partly to keep clean, and partly to keep warm.

We waited for the horse trailers to get there. And then they were there. We were on some D.C. street, which had been blocked off for the event. We had to stand around waiting for a bit. I certainly can't tell you how long, because the excitement blurred my sense of time.

I then saw McClellen's trailer number, and I went, along with my fellow equestrians with mounts in the same trailer. And we all began unloading horses.

It was wild. Here we were, leading our horses down a street (sometimes down a sidewalk) in our nation's capitol.

In another whirlwind, we groomed and tacked up our horses, got ourselves ready, mounted up, and spent a lot of time walking to get our horses loosened up. There were some port-a-potties in sight, but for some reason, I decided I could hold it.

But as time went on, and we were getting closer to finally getting the show on the road, I finally couldn't wait anymore. Plus, I didn't want to remember this ride by how badly I had to go to the bathroom. So I dismounted, had a friend hold my horse's reins, and I took off for a port-a-potty. Of course, there was a line. Ugh.

Finally, I was mounted again, and after what seemed like forever (apparently Pres. G.H.W. Bush and Mrs. Bush had decided to get out of their vehicle and walk), we were off. It was mid- to late-afternoon by the time we headed out.

I was in the second row of Equestriennes on the very right - on the TV camera side. The Senior Prefect (who was also an equestrian) and the Equestriennes captain were on the left - the Pass in Review side. But Su and I, the 2 four-year Equestriennes, were on the TV side.

We proceeded along the parade route. I remember that the streets were packed with people trying to watch the Parade, and the streets were lined with military from all branches, but for some reason, I only remember seeing the Marines. I vaguely remember seeing a woman specifically cheering for the Equestriennes as we rode by, wondering if she was an alumna, or a parent. Then I noticed that she waved an "ERA NOW" sign, and the lightbulb went on over my head.

I remember that the crowds were LOUD. The excitement was electric. I couldn't stop smiling. Of course, when we perform, we Equestriennes always smile, but this smiling was easy!

As we got close to the Pass in Review stand, I remember seeing a sign indicating we were entering the TV filming area. It was late in the day, with long shadows, and golden afternoon light.

And then the command for "Eyes Left" (usually "Eyes Right" but the President would be on the left on the Parade route). As we marched past the Reviewing stand doing "Eyes Left," the first person I noticed was Mrs. Quayle because she had on a periwinkle-like bluish outfit and hat. The color stood out on that winter afternoon.Then I caught a glimpse of Dan Quayle, standing, because he was from Indiana, and so was our school. I remember seeing Mrs. Bush, briefly, and just barely getting the quickest of glimpses of Pres. Bush.

And the next thing I knew, we were heading off onto some side street, and McClellan got spooked from some yellow police tape. He sidestepped so quickly, we were at the other end of the row before I could blink.

I barely remember much at this point. I don't remember dismounting or taking care of McClellan, or even the bus ride back to the hotel.

I just replayed all the snapshots in my mind - from the view of the Capitol that morning to the fluttering police tape.

So there you have it. I wish I had the video coverage that we all got, covering everything from practices, to the actual Parade footage, but alas, it's on VHS, and I have yet to get it transferred to DVD. One of these days I will.

In the meantime, I've posted Culver's official photo of the event.

There's a little float ahead of us, with flags and banners and such. It indicated "Indiana" and each state had one ahead of all the units participating from that state. We were first in line for Indiana, which is why we're directly behind the Indiana float. Yes, there are "pooper scoopers" behind us with shovels and trash cans. A marching band was next, and then a float with an eagle and a globe.

If you look at our mounted  unit, the BHT cadets are carrying state flags. You'll see a light blue flag fluttering on the left in the photo. My face is right next to it to the right. The Equestriennes don't carry flags, but with photo angle and the way the flag is fluttering, it looks like I'm immediately to the right of the flag.

Culver Academies in the 1989 Presidential Inaugural Parade, Washington D.C.

Memory Lane Friday is hosted by Two Bears Farm and the Three Cubs . . . so please click on the button to check out Tow Bears' and the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday posts. 

Come back next week when the topic is "A Restaurant". . .yummo - I already have one restaurant in mind.

Memory Lane Friday - A Time You Were Sick

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Time You Were Sick."

There was this one particular time I was sick in high school, and it's this one time that I want to talk about. It's one of those Teens Don't Necessarily Have the Most Common Sense type of stories. And yes, it will have a horse-related theme incorporated into the story. 

It was my sophomore year at Culver Girls Academy. I was in a quad (4-person room) with Candi, Kristi, and Wendy, in the dorm called Tower. Candi and Kristi were seniors, and Wendy was a junior and the only non-equestrian among us (but she usually came out to watch us in Equestriennes performances, or Culver-sponsored horse shows - the home ones, obviously and not the away ones).

Well, anyway . . . back in the day when I was a student there, if you wanted to be a part of the Varsity Jumping team (the team that went to horse shows, competing in hunters/jumpers/hunter points, etc), you had to be enrolled in the Equitation/Horsemanship department (taking Equitation - Horsemanship - classes during the week), and try out/make the JV Jumping team.You had to participate on the JV team for at least one semester before being allowed to try out for the Varsity team.

So my first semester my freshman year, I made the JV team, as did a bunch of other students, including Gavin, a fellow freshman. He and I had also been involved in Pony Club in our respective home towns before attending Culver.

When the second semester of my freshman year started, I'd found out when Varsity Jumping try-outs were (I was also eligible to try out for the Equestriennes at this time, too) and I was there!

Needless to say, I'd made the team as a freshman, as did Gavin. The two of us were the only freshmen on the team.

So . . . fast forward to sophomore year. I can't remember if it was late in the first semester, or early in the second. But it was wintertime and COLD in NW Indiana. Maybe February?

A few of us Varsity Jumpers were getting ready to head to a one-day horse show in Michigan City, IN on a Saturday. By mid-week, I was starting to feel run down, like something was not quite right. I wasn't sure if it was just from classes, studying, and all the other stuff I was involved with - but I just wasn't feeling 100%.

By Friday, though, I knew something was wrong. We'd been at the Riding Hall after we'd ridden that afternoon, just making sure we'd had everything we needed for the show the next day. Since it was just a one-day show, we'd leave early on Saturday to get there, we'd show, and then come back late Saturday evening, so we only needed to organize stuff for one day. We typically stopped at a steak place on our way back to campus so we could eat something tasty for dinner.

This Friday night after wrapping up at the Riding Hall, we'd dispersed our own separate ways, each of us going to our respective dorms/barracks. Candi and Kristi were on the Varsity Jumping team with me, and the three of us headed back to our dorm to shower, change into cozy pjs, and then hang out in our room . . . eventually going to bed at lights-out.

Well, I just felt HORRIBLE by this point. But I didn't want to say anything. I really wanted to go to this horse show. This was my first full year as a Varsity Jumper. And while I wouldn't have been bumped down to JV because I was sick and had to miss a show or anything like that . . . it's just one of those weird thought-processes of a teen's brain. I didn't want to miss the show. And I was NOT going to the infirmary! (Nothing wrong with the infirmary . . . I just wasn't going.)

Anyway, I showered and changed into my pjs and headed straight to my bed. Luckily, my bed was right next to the window.

Now, I think I must've just had some viral bug that was going around (no gastrointestinal, um, "issues" to deal with - just a fever and fatigue) so it's not like I could've done anything to get rid of it (other than to rest, drink fluids, and probably spend a night or two in the infirmary so as not to spread the bug).

But back to the story . . . on this particular cold, winter evening, I was hot. I was burning up. Tired Fall-down exhausted. Had a headache. I went to my bed. I felt like I was going to burn a hole through my sheets. So I opened the window.

In the wintertime in NW Indiana.

It felt WONDERFUL. Ahhh, relief. Nice, cool air flowing over me. I was in a haze. Was I awake? Or asleep? I vaguely remember hearing voices. My roommates? Friends from across the hall? They were familiar voices, nonetheless. Wendy? Rosann? Kristi? I'm not sure.

I remember that the bedroom lights were on.

I then remember that Wendy came over and closed the window. Somebody had gone to our dorm mother's apartment down the hall and had gotten a thermometer. In my mouth it went. Obviously, I had a fever. I was burning up. I wanted the window open. Somebody got me a glass of water; another got me a glass of orange juice.

I think I'd said I didn't want to go to the infirmary. That I was going to go to the horse show. I have a little bottle of Tylenol in the lock box in my desk. Please get a couple for me.

Our dorm mother came in to check. No, please don't make a fuss. I'm going to bed; I'm okay.

I slept fitfully. I had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom, after all the liquids everyone had pushed on me. My three roommates must've really bundled up that night, because I remember begging and pleading to keep the window open a crack. But I'm assuming one of them closed it after I'd fallen asleep.

And then the alarm clock (mine? Candi's?) went off way too early. Horse show mornings always start off really early. Especially early if you've been sick the night before.

We'd made it to the Riding Hall that morning, got the horses loaded into the trailer, made sure all the equipment and necessities were loaded in the "tack room" portion of the trailer, and we were ready to load ourselves up. Typically, those teammates with the most seniority would get to ride in the dually's cab, enjoying either heat or a/c, depending on the season. Everyone else would have to ride in the "tack room" portion of the trailer. Shhh, that probably wouldn't fly very well these days.

Well, since I would've had to ride in the trailer as a sophomore, with a bunch of juniors and seniors taking up the dually (our coach would've been driving), I was kinda milling about, waiting til the last moment before getting in.

But then Candi came to me and stated, "You're riding in the truck." She had a you're not arguing with me tone of voice.

Okay. I wasn't going to argue with her. Not only was she giving me an order, I wasn't feeling like arguing. I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. But I desperately wanted to show at the same time. I was sick. I was a teen. Don't try and find the logic.

As I was getting ready to get into the truck, I heard somebody - another teammate (Drew, maybe?) - arguing with Candi. All I could hear was Candi's voice quietly, but forcefully saying, "She's SICK! She WILL ride in the truck. Do you understand?"

And that was it. I was definitely riding in the truck. I think everyone knew I wasn't feeling well, but it was something that nobody talked about, other than that brief exchange I'd overheard.

Fortunately, I didn't get anybody else sick, though I vaguely remember trying not to breathe near anyone else. And I brought home some ribbons, too. Nothing stellar, but in the ribbons, nevertheless.

And that is how I remember the event. Now, keep in mind I was sick and in need of sleep, so I may not have remembered it exactly as it happened, but this is the way my brain stored my memories of this event.

Oh, and that Saturday night's sleep? It was the smartest thing I'd done that week.

Riding Hall circa May 2009, Culver Academies, Culver, IN

Please click on the button to read the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday posts, hosted, as always, by "Two Bears and the Three Cubs":

Next week's Memory Lane Friday is "No Theme" so it'll be a nice surprise to see different topics.

Memory Lane Friday - My Dad

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is about "My Dad."

He's the guy that my brother Alex and I think of when watching The Lion King. There's a part where Simba has gotten into trouble with the hyenas, and Mufasa has to come in and rescue him. Later, Simba mentions that the hyenas were pretty scared of Mufasa. And Mufasa says, "Nobody messes with your Dad!" That reminds Alex and me of the kind of guy our dad is.

So what do I say about my dad? Well, I have a lot of stories, so I'll just have to narrow them down to just a few.

 Here's a picture of the two of us. I must've been around 4.

 This must've been about the time we moved to Wilmette, IL.

 Here's a funny photo of Dad as he's floating at the lake house, Lake Ozark, MO, circa mid-90s.

First, as you can see in the photo above . . . I have to say that he's the kind of guy who would be the instigator in something super fun . . . but this thing (whatever it might be) would also be high on the list of "Mom won't like this!" activities.

For instance, in a previous Memory Lane Friday about A Family Vacation, I recalled that he served us ice cream, M&Ms, and Twizzlers for breakfast one morning before skiing. That same trip, he took us to eat nothing but cookies and milk for lunch one day. And then to top it off, we went to this funky, weird place called "The Irish Camel" that served awful Mexican food!

He is also the guy who is up for seeing movies - action, adventure, space - anything fun, fast, and loud. I remember seeing the original 3 Star Wars movies, Jaws 3D, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Terminator 2, probably a couple Star Trek movies, stuff like that. Anytime a fun movie was out, we could count on Dad to take us to it.

At the movie theater, he always used to get the HUGE vat container of popcorn - the biggest one - with butter, and one huge soda. He'd have us all share it, though we always complained that we wanted our own individual sodas. Nope. That wasn't going to happen. One big popcorn and one big soda (with one straw) to share among all of us.

One time, he'd gone to get the popcorn and soda, and when he got back to the aisle where we were sitting, he tripped and dumped the whole container of popcorn on my sister's head. She was SO mad! She must've been around 8 years old, and would not stop complaining the entire movie, but the rest of us thought it was hilarious. We couldn't stop snickering about it, and that made her angrier!

Then there's the side of him that gives good (or tries to give good) advice.

When I was a student at Culver Girls Academy, in Culver, IN, I was a member of the Culver Equestriennes. This team does mounted drills to music.

To be a member of this organization, a rider must be enrolled in the Horsemanship department, and must meet or exceed a certain GPA, maintain a high level of horsemanship, and maintain a "citizenship grade" of B or higher. Riders may try out for the team after a semester in the Horsemanship department.

 The Culver Equestriennes. I'm in the line closest to the camera, third from the right.

Well, my friend Rosann and I had been members of the Equestriennes since the second semester of our Freshman year. At the end of our Junior year, just before the final ride the week of graduation, it was time to elect the new senior captain (out of the current juniors) for our Senior year on the team.

Since we'd been teammates since our freshman year (as were only one or two other teammates), Rosann and I wanted to run as co-captains. Our Freshman year, we had co-captains lead the team. We just knew we could run the team effectively as co-captains. But the coach said no, without reason. We pressured her to tell us why we couldn't and the answer was basically, "Because I said so. End of conversation."

Rosann and I were understandably upset, but ran as individuals.

When it was finally time to vote (right before we were to go out to the stables to mount up for the final ride of our junior year), we nervously voted.

And then just before we entered the arena as a team, the coach told us the results. It was a third girl who had won. She had gotten 6 votes, Rosann and I each got 4 votes, and then other girls got the remaining votes. Rosann and I were so upset. If we had run as co-captains, we could've gotten 8 votes (possibly more) and would've won!

But we had a performance to ride. I put on my best and biggest smile (we were always encouraged to smile big for all performances . . . besides, it was fun!), even though I just wanted to cry.

After the performance, we had to quickly get the horses ready for the Culver Lancers (the boys' mounted drill team). Then we could go up to the balcony to meet our families.

I'm pretty sure I forced out a half-hearted "Congratulations!" to the girl who became captain, a classmate of Rosann's and mine, with as big a smile as I could forcefully plaster on my face. I'd been trying to avoid her, but we were in the stables together, so it was inevitable.

One of my friends, Debra, who a classmate of mine and also on the team, said, "You should've won. If it makes you feel any better, I voted for you." So did my friend, Brenda, a senior who'd be graduating in a couple days, also a teammate.


Then I headed up to the balcony to find my parents. I think I gave them a short, snippy, "So-'n'-so won. She's captain," as we watched the other teams perform.

But in the car, as my parents drove me back to my dorm, I couldn't hold back the flood anymore and I burst into tears. I was so heartbroken (and mad). I explained how Rosann and I wanted to be co-captains, but the coach said no, and then I explained all the rest of the drama.

My dad then tried to explain that it's usually not the best riders (or football/hockey/soccer players, or whatever sport it is) that get to be captain . . . it's the most popular ones. He went on to tell me I had a gift - I was such an accomplished equestrian, having won awards (which was just the icing on the cake), that I could practically ride in my sleep, that it was so effortless for me. This was more important than holding a "captain" title for a year.

Then he explained that when he was on the football team, he was considered to be a talented football player. But when he ran for the captain position, he didn't get it. It went to the most popular guy on the team who was just an average player, at best. So he knew what it felt like, and wanted me to understand it had nothing to do with my horsemanship ability.

I didn't believe him at the time, thinking he was just saying that to get me to stop crying. But as time wore on, and the sting wore off, I could see his point. I found out later, after talking with Rosann, that a similar event happened with her and her parents, and that her dad gave her a very similar story.

Well, then there's how my dad leads by example. He'd received a commission in the Army back in the day. He was the only one in my family with a commission. All the rest of my family members served honorably and bravely as a part of the enlisted corps.

But since I'd be going to college and since I had a strong urge to join the military and serve my country, I knew I'd follow in his footsteps and get a commission, too. But I went Air Force, not Army (or Navy) like all my relatives before me.

Since my dad had been a Major in the Army, I decided that when it was time for me to graduate from Officer Training School, I wanted him to administer my oath of office. It was the same one that recited when he raised his right hand and accepted his commission. It's the same one Andrew took when he was commissioned. It's actually very similar to the one that each U.S. President recites on Inauguration Day.

Here's my dad as he administers my oath on 19 Nov 1999.

 My mom took this photo of us.

Here he is as he pins on my Second Lieutenant rank.

So my dad, the Army Major, administered my oath of office, and pinned on my new rank (which he also did at each of my promotion ceremonies).

This is a common bond that he and I share. He's said on occasion that none of his other kids ever followed this example of his . . . and he's said this with a grin on his face. So I'm the only family member to share this common bond.

So there you have it . . . a not-so-brief snapshot of my dad. But before I sign off . . . check out a couple photos of my dad when he was much younger.

 Here he is as a little boy, less than a year old.

 Here he is when he was about 17 in Auburn, NY.

And here is one more from when I got married in 2002:

Wedding photo © 2002 Brad Baskin

Before you go, please click on the box to read this week's other Memory Lane Friday posts:

Memory Lane Friday - A Ceremony

I was seriously considering writing about my wedding, but since Andrew and I had both a justice of the peace ceremony (so we could get orders for a joint-spouse assignment in the Air Force) AND a church wedding, I don't want to pick one because they're both important.

So I think for this one, I'll go to my high school graduation 21 years ago on June 4, 1989. Plus, that whole time was so magical, and I'd like to recall it, because it is so fun to think about.

I went to Culver Girls Academy (or "CGA," part of the Culver Academies, including Culver Military Academy for the boys), in Culver, Indiana. It's on Lake Maxinkuckee, a lake formed by glaciers long, long ago. It's in NW Indiana, just over a 2-hour drive to Chicago, and not far south from South Bend, home of Notre Dame.

Anyway, the week of graduation was filled with so many activities, that it was almost hard to just stop and think of the importance of what was about to happen at the end of the week. And because all these activities kind of blurred together as the week sped by, I'm going to talk about a few of them.

I was a member of the Culver Equestriennes, an honor organization for the girls in the Equitation Program at Culver. The Equestriennes perform mounted drills to music; it is precision riding as a team (think of the Canadian Mounties' Musical Ride). We had to wait until our second semester at school before we could even try out for the team!

Not only did we have to maintain a high level of horsemanship ability, we also had to maintain a certain GPA if we were to ride on the team.

Anyway, we were getting ready for our final Graduation Ride, with dress rehearsals, making sure our boots were polished, our white breeches were spotless, as were our hunt coats.

And on the day of the final ride (the same day that the other Honor Organizations performed), we had to make sure our mounts were spectacularly groomed, with manes braided and finished off with spiffy looking white tape (like dressage braids) - it really stands out on black horses. Plus, the horses' hooves got a coat of hoof black (I won't say what it really was) so their hooves were shiny and black. And the graduating seniors got to stencil an 89 on our horses' rumps, instead of the usual checkerboard pattern. It's basically getting the hair wet, and combing it in a different direction so that it shows a pattern.Unfortunately, I don't have a photo of that.

Here are 4 of us from the Equestriennes. The 3 of us on the left side of the photo were also on the Varsity Jumping team. This photo was taken shortly before graduation week. I'm obviously the second one from the right.

 

Here's an example of our entrance in an inverted V formation. I'm in the line closest to the camera, 3rd one from the right. This is not a photo of the graduation ride, but one from my 3.5 years on the team.

Anyway, it was a spectacular, fun, bittersweet performance. It was such a great memory, because it was something so fun, rewarding, and all of us teammates really worked well together. Bittersweet, because it would be our final ride, our final opportunity to do a musical ride as a team, to live music.

Not only did we have the Honor Organization performances, we had end-of-year awards ceremonies. Okay, so you know I was an avid equestrian. At this end-of-year awards ceremony, I was awarded the Outstanding Horsewoman trophy for my accomplishments.

Here's the trophy as it's displayed in the BHT (Black Horse Troop) Lounge in the Riding Hall. My name is engraved on the pedestal.

Then there was Final Ball (not "prom" or whatever other schools call it). If I remember correctly, it was the night before graduation. I don't really remember. Not only did we get dressed up for this very important dance, we had a special ceremony the night before our very important graduation ceremony.

We had the ring ceremony. Typically in our junior year, we'd have a senior chosen to "ring" us. We'd get to wear that person's senior class ring that year, with the Culver "C" facing in (because we were still "in" school). Then on the night of Final Ball, we'd put our senior's ring back on her finger, with the "C" facing out. Well, I wasn't going to be doing this ceremony with a junior, putting my ring on me with the "C" facing out. I was having Wendy (who was my roommate for two years, and who later became my maid of honor at my church wedding), ring me. She graduated in 1988, the year before. So just before midnight, we lined up, and as soon as the 1989 flashed, she took my ring off my finger and put it on with the "C" facing out.

 Here's my class ring. All CGA class rings are standardized and look like this. However, you had the choice of what kind of gold you wanted, or silver, if you so desired. The CGA Crest is in the middle, with the Culver logo on one side and year of graduation on the other.

Finally, after plenty of activities during graduation week (and there were PLENTY of others in addition to Honor Organization performances, awards ceremonies, Final Ball), it was time for graduation.

I remember how bittersweet it felt. I would definitely miss all the opportunities I had become involved with, all the friendships I had made - and yes, after 20+ years, these are the people I am still friends with, and many of us still keep in touch. As a matter of fact, every year Culver hosts Alumni Weekend, which, this year,  happens to be starting NOW. It lasts the whole weekend, with plenty of activities for Alumni/ae - you just go on the year that corresponds with your 5th, 10th, so on. Last year was my 20th. Okay, I'm off track (I may talk about Alumni Weekends another time) . . . so back to graduation.

All the seniors of CGA wear white dresses for the day of graduation. It's traditional to get a photo of the graduating class in front of the Culver Memorial Chapel. But, for some reason, the photographer on our graduation day had camera issues! And we didn't get an official photo. But plenty of parents were on hand with cameras, so we at least got some photos of that moment.

I'm not sure whose parent took this photo. I'm in the front row, all the way to the left.

Oh, and we all had arm bouquets. I had cream-colored roses with maroon edges. I loved 'em.

So when we graduated, we walked through the CGA gate. Our name would be announced, I think we signed the graduation book (?) got a hand shake (or hug) from the Dean of Girls (Dean Trudy Hall, at the time of my graduation), and a hand shake from the Superintendent (Dean Manuel, at the time) and walked through the gate. And then we'd sit down, and wait for the remainder of the ceremony. CGA went first, and then CMA went through their own gate. I remember Dean Hall giving me a big hug, saying "Take care of those horses, okay?"

And within a couple hours, it was over. Just like that. Four years at Culver were over. And a new adventure was beginning. Wow! Exciting and bittersweet.

Katy (class of 1990) and I are bawling our eyes out. This is the bittersweet part.

The fun side of the coin: our dorm mother, Ms. Mack, had let me "sign Katy out" on leave, so she and I could hang out for a while after graduation. Shhh! She wasn't really supposed to do that. 

One of my good friends, Rosann, and her family had rented a cottage on the lake. We had a party there, celebrating our graduation. Here's the cake:

Of course, I just noticed they misspelled "Congratulations" and Rosann's name, but oh, well. It was fun. The whole experience. Everything leading up to graduation, and while it was bittersweet, to move away from friends, I'm glad most of us still keep in touch. And besides, we get to see each other every 5 years!

Please click on the box for this week's other Memory Lane Friday posts.

Memory Lane Friday (a day late) - A Sporting Event

Okay, I'll play along; I like the idea of Memory Lane Fridays.

I was thinking about what I'd post yesterday and then the next thing I know, it's mid-day Saturday! Oops! Next week, I'll be sure to post (or try to post) on Friday evening after Livie has gone to bed. ;)

Let's see. There are a couple of sporting events that I was thinking about writing about, but I think I've narrowed it down to the one really FUN memory.

Back in the day, I used to be an avid equestrian. I really didn't care much about anything but riding . . . except for maybe photography, art class, and what book we'd get to read next in English. (I was . . . and still am . . . a big ol' bookworm.)

Anyway, while I attended Culver Girls Academy (CGA), I was on the Varsity Jumping Team. We usually had a blast going to various shows in the area. And we'd typically have the Culver Invitational Horse Show (a home show for us) in the spring, in the big outdoor arenas across the street from the riding hall. Riders from around the area (Indiana, Michigan, maybe Illinois, and perhaps other places) would participate in this show. And a horse show judge would come in to fulfill judging duties over the weekend for this show.

It's actually this show that I'm thinking about and fondly remembering - the May 1989 show during my senior year at Culver: just about a month before graduating. I'd actually been on the CGA Varsity Polo team this particular semester. But since I'd been on the Varsity Jumping Team since the spring semester of my freshman year, I had a tremendous urge to ride in Culver's Invitational Horse Show one final year. This would probably be my last big show before heading off to college and not being able to ride regularly, if at all.

So about a month or so before the show, I spoke to my polo coach and told her I was thinking about riding in the show; would she have a problem if I rode with the Varsity Jumpers for that week prior to the show, and then compete that whole weekend? I was so excited when she said go for it.

Meanwhile, I was still going to polo practice, having a blast picking up a new sport. After we tacked up our ponies and headed to the arena, I'd mount up and warm up without stirrups, picking up my stirrups only when we started scrimmaging.

See, I was riding as much as I could without stirrups to get my legs super tight, like steel. I knew I'd be riding in Adult Equitation classes for the first time, and I wanted to be ready.

Oh, a bit of an explanation for those of you who are not familiar with equestrian terms: riders in equitation classes are judged on their form (correct posture while mounted), and how they handle their horses (the more invisible your cues to your horse are, the better). Plus, since I'd already turned 18 in November of 1988, I was no longer able to ride in the Junior equitation classes - it would be Adult classes from here on out.

And of course, I was still practicing with the CGA Equestriennes (the CGA Honor Organization team that performs musical rides). These practices occurred after jumping and polo practices were over. So when I rode with the Equestriennes, I'd ride the whole practice without stirrups.

So after my "show preparation week" with the Varsity Jumpers, I was ready. And I was excited. I really enjoyed showing.

After a full morning of showing, it was now late Saturday afternoon - the first day of showing would be over within a few hours.

Finally, it was time to head into the ring for my first ever Adult Equitation class. I was riding Sir Ebon, a kinda fuzzy horse who was so incredibly smooth to ride - he had gaits that truly felt like you were on a rocking horse. Nice and smoooooth.

Once all the riders were in the ring, the judge had us go through our paces, including taking our feet out of the stirrups and crossing them over the the fronts of our saddle (so they wouldn't bang against our horses' sides each time they took a stride, and probably to ensure no one's feet "accidentally" went back into them prematurely). Since I'd been practicing so much without stirrups, this was a piece of cake. I could've gone on and on without stirrups, even smiling at the judge as Sir Ebon and I trotted past her, neither of us tired at all.

One of my riding instructors (Lt Michael Stahl) was standing by the ring, watching. At one point, he said, "You're doing well. Keep it up and you should place high!"

But, since riding without stirrups does take a lot of practice and is a lot of work to maintain, there is only so long a judge can have a class ride without them. So we eventually got our stirrups back.

Finally, after the judge had seen all she needed to see, all the riders lined up in the center of the ring, with our numbers (on our backs) facing the judge.

It seemed like we were there forever. Finally, after what felt like HOURS (but was only a few minutes - 5-10, tops), the announcer stated over the loudspeaker that we had the results. A lot of times, horse shows will have ribbons for 1st through 6th places. I've occasionally seen bigger shows having ribbons through 8th place. This show had ribbons through 6th. And a person (one of the horse show volunteers) with all six ribbons was standing near the middle of the ring, ready to pass them out to the riders who earned them.

And then the announcer started with 6th place, stating something to the effect of "In 6th place, number __(whatever it was)" and then saying that rider's name. That rider walked up to the volunteer, received his or her ribbon, and exited the ring.

Then 5th place . . . I think I was holding my breath, waiting to hear my number. When the number was announced . . . it was somebody else's.

Waiting for the 4th place announcement . . . more breath holding, and more disappointment that it wasn't me.

When it came to the 3rd place announcement, I was thinking that it was altogether possible that I was in the top three, especially since Lt. Stahl had thought I was doing well enough to place high.

But when they announced the 3rd place rider, it still wasn't me. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back disappointment, and telling myself not to worry about it. That I'd be in other non-equitation classes at this show, other types of classes where I usually performed much better.

So now it was time for the red ribbon - 2nd place. I held my breath, looking at the volunteer with the red 2nd place ribbon and that blue ribbon I wanted so badly. The volunteer was a fellow Culver student; if I remember correctly, I think it was Rosann, a fellow Equestriennes teammate and good friend. She was standing there looking at us, a bunch of riders still left, but only two ribbons remained . . .

. . . and then I couldn't believe it! 2nd place was announced and it still wasn't my number. Suddenly, just before the announcer said the rider's name, I had a panicked butterfly sensation in my stomach! What the heck WAS my number?! I suddenly couldn't remember! Was it me? No, it wasn't. Was it?

Nope. During my momentary confusion, the announcer said someone else's name.

And then I was really disappointed.

But then the 1st place number was called while I once again held my breath, feeling that familiar disappointment again, and wishing it were just all over already . . . and when the number was announced, it was the number I'd kept repeating over and over in my head! It was my number! But I was so surprised, I didn't move at first, not sure if it had really been my number.

Then I heard the announcer say my name, and I was filled with relief and disbelief! I just couldn't believe I'd won! First of all, wow! I'd won an equitation class! That rarely happened (I usually did well in other types of classes). And secondly, it was my first Adult Equitation class! Double wow!

The Varsity Jumping coach, Capt. Chris Kerner, a long time instructor of mine while I was at Culver, was sitting near the gate with the biggest grin I'd ever seen as I rode past. Another instructor, Ms. Leslie Gordon (the Equestriennes and JV Jumping coach), saw his big ol' smile, teasing him about it. And Capt. Kerner's response? "Well, what else would you do if your kid was the best!" That kind of compliment meant as much as the blue ribbon.

I was so excited about this win; it seemed like an unlikely victory and I really appreciated it. After this first day of showing was over, and I'd cared for Sir Ebon and returned him to his stall, I was walking back to my dorm in the twilight. It was during this walk while I was replaying the events of the day, that I came upon one of my English instructors, Mr. Wiley. He saw me in my riding clothes, and asked how I was doing at the show. I was so excited that I just blabbed on and on about the day. He laughed, smiled big, and congratulated me on how well I'd done. I think he must've been surprised because I was usually much more reserved during class, not getting quite so animated, even if we were talking about a book or story I really loved.

As we said our "I'll see you on Monday in class" and goodbyes, I enjoyed the remaining walk back to my dorm, that wonderful spring evening after an exciting day.

(Oh, and by the way . . . I think I still have that blue ribbon somewhere, tucked away with other very important mementos. LOL!)

A Blast From the Past!

Tonight, as Andrew, Olivia, and I were heading back from Mass, dinner, and a quick errand in the rain, I turned on the radio. We have XM in our cars. I put mine on "Watercolors" which is the c-jazz (contemporary jazz) station. When we were almost home, a song came on that seemed somewhat familiar to me. About 30 seconds into it, I checked the artist and song title, wondering why it sounded so familiar, and brought a smile to my face. It was Chuck Mangione and "Bellavia."

Okay, so I've heard of Chuck Mangione. But I still didn't remember where I'd heard this particular song before. Andrew interjected, "Oh, this is Chuck Mangione? He must be playing his 'flugelhorn' in this piece." Okay, I'll take his word for it; he's the musician in the family, a trumpet player.

It was about 30 seconds later, when I checked the artist and song title again that the light-bulb came on over my head, though it was neither the title or artist that I recognized; it was a portion of the song, with the brass instruments in crescendo that took me "back, back to Culver days."

Back when I was a student at Culver (Culver Girls Academy, Culver, IN), I was part of the Equestriennes Honor Organization. The Equestriennes are a mounted drill team, performing to live music (the Lancer Band, CMA's band honor organization). An Equestrienne must maintain a minimum GPA, meet horsemanship standards, and maintain a certain Citizenship grade. And when I was on the Equestriennes team, the Lancer Band played Chuck Mangione's "Bellavia" (among other songs) for one (or maybe more), of our performances!

I told Livie that Mommy rode her "dancing horsey" to this song at her school! Livie knows "all about" Mommy's "dancing horsies at Mommy's school," because we took her to my 20th Anniversary Alumni Weekend in May 2009, as well as the Horsemanship Reunion Weekend in October 2009. She's seen the Equestriennes perform, and knows that I did that when I was in school. And now, of course, she wants to do it, too. So now she got to hear a bit of the music I rode to, so long ago!

It was nice reminiscing about the good ol' days!

Some photos of my riding with my fellow Equestriennes back in the day (1986-1989):


Here is the Equestriennes' entrance. We usually did this V formation immediately after entering in a column of twos, typically to part of the "Dynasty" nighttime soap music as the music to our opening moves. I'm the third from the right, in the foreground. It looks like I'm riding Black Tux!

We have just saluted, and are waiting for the band to start up so we can go to the next movement. I'm on the very right, atop Black Tux.

Here we are, saluting at the end of the performance.

We are exiting after we've saluted.