Musings on Memorial Day

By Jeff Orvis

This week we paused to observe Memorial Day. A day that is generally meant to remember sacrifices of members of our armed forces over the years has been expanded to include a time to remember anyone of our friends or relatives who have passed away. It's a great time of year for florists, butchers and those that sell charcoal and outdoor grills.

One of the most memorable recent traditions of the day occurs in Washington, D.C. An outdoor program of music and remembrances honors our fighting forces. Honored guests are usually several hundred ambulatory victims of our most recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as a dwindling number of veterans of World War II and the Korean War.

I'll admit that over the years my view of the military has mellowed. Forty-five years ago, as I was finishing my last couple of years in high school, this country was wrapped up in a war in Southeast Asia that would ultimately result in our instituting a draft and a lottery. If your number was low and you were fit, you got the call. For a time, if you were in college, you were given a deferment. But as our involvement in what would eventually be a losing cause required more fighting forces, the rules for potential draftees changed.

As I recall, first I was given a 4F designation. They didn't want someone who was legally blind in one eye and hopelessly uncoordinated. Then my birthday was a high lottery number and I was enrolled in college.

There were several communities around this country who were hit hard by the Vietnam War. Several members of graduating classes weren't alive for their five-year reunions. 

Very few of my classmates went into the military out of high school. We were only personally grazed the the conflict in comparison to some of those other communities around the nation. I did attend the funeral of the older brother of a guy who played in our high school band. The young man was killed in the war and received full military honors after a mile-long caravan from the funeral home to the cemetery.

The memories of that time are once again fresh as some of our recent high school grads have decided to enter the service. Some of them are enlisting because of the educational benefits available. Some view it as a steady paycheck, either for the length of their initial enlistment obligation or as a career. Still others realize they need the discipline and direction they will receive in the military.

The military would like you to believe that most enlistees raise their hands to fight for the oppressed and to fight off the terror threat. I'm sure that many young soldiers and sailors may enlist for some of the prior reasons listed and eventually adopt the realization that they can make a difference in the lives of the citizens of the countries where they are sent to fight.

Our town has had some extraordinary examples of those who have opted to enter the military. One young man who was an outstanding high school wrestler came home on leave shortly after Marine basic training. I asked him how it was and he shrugged and said it was no tougher than high school wrestling practice. Another young man, an outstanding high school athlete, was chosen for the presidential Marine honor guard. But he reportedly complained that he didn't go through all that intense training to set up folding chairs for White House functions and he eventually became a specialist in defusing roadside bombs in war zones.

From a purely political standpoint, there are some alarming comparisons between the Vietnam era and today. We left Southeast Asia without any kind of victory and Vietnam eventually was taken by the Communists. We have generally pulled out of Iraq and there is still plenty of fighting going on there, with the possibility that it will result in civil war. We are preparing to leave Afghanistan. But the unstable government, the culture and the rugged terrain means there will probably be no clear-cut victory when we leave.

We live in a results-driven society. When we invest time and money in something, we want immediate results. I'm afraid we didn't see any positive results from Vietnam and we won't from our over 10 years of war in the Middle East, other than the elimination of some terror cells. But we have the reminder of the thousands of lives lost, the tens of thousands who sustained permanent injury and the billions of dollars poured into the effort.

So what is the point of spending at least part of our Monday day off this week attending military services or watching the production on TV? I couldn't answer that 45 years ago. But maybe these years have given me the wisdom to say now that it's a time to thank those who decide to take the oath. Not so they can go off to fight in some small country that we may never see, but so that they can be ready if there is ever a direct threat to this country.

The rebel side of me hopes that as we pause to thank our military, we can best support them by making sure that they receive all of the physical and mental treatment they need when they return from the war. We should also honor them by questioning our leaders as they embark on future military actions across the globe. History shows that neither political party has been immune to mistakes made by our leaders that prolonged our involvement in a lot of armed conflicts.

Maybe every time we hear “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” we should also quietly sing “All We Are Saying is Give Peace a Chance.”

This weeks topic: Billboard Awards and graduation

By Jeff Orvis

This is one of those times with a couple of ideas merge into one column. Strange how my mind works sometimes, but here goes:

This past weekend, many of my Facebook friends were celebrating graduations from high school, college and some post graduate work. Congratulations to one and all. Then on Sunday night, the Billboard Awards were on TV, celebrating the best of current music.

I am quite familiar with Billboard magazine. It's the Bible for the music industry from producers and artists to radio stations. We read it regularly around the college radio stations where I worked many years ago, during the era of records and reel-to-reel tape. Younger readers may want to ask your parents, or grandparents, for an explanation.

So I watched the Billboard show with what I hoped would be an open mind. I remember when my parents and grandparents were my current age, they had little use for the music I listened to. That hippie music wasn't for them. But I wanted to watch the show with more of an open mind. But please, no rap and easy on the hard-core country.

The show was a true visual spectacular. Flashing lights, limber dancers and pyrotechnics were the norm. Alas, memorable music was not. There were several performers I had heard before. The special appearance by Michael Jackson was a nice touch. It reminded me of the time when Natalie Cole sang a duet with her deceased father on another show.

So special effects were a good reason to watch the show. But I can honestly say I can't remember any of the songs performed less than 18 hours ago. I realize we live in a fast-paced society, but I miss some of the songs that we listened to back when we had KSTT Radio in Davenport or WLS, “the Rock of Chicago.”

Those production numbers we saw on Sunday night don't come cheap. Yet most of the money made by the performers, other than in their live concerts, is from downloaded tunes. The music is downloaded from a computer to a tiny device that listeners can then plug tiny earphones into and listen. They aren't downloading the lights or fireworks or dancers or fancy costumes.

So what does all this have to do with graduation, you may ask. As I read all the notes of congratulations this weekend, it brought back some neat memories of my own high school graduation. So I did a search and came up with a list of top tunes back in the dark ages of 1971. Yes, I'm that old, you can do the math.

Maybe it's due to the proliferation of oldies radio stations, but it seems that most of the artists on that list had much more longevity than today's hot artists. George Harrison, the former Beatle, led the list with the top hit, “My Sweet Lord,” for the first three weeks of the year. Tony Orlando and Dawn had the next three weeks with “Knock Three Times” and then the Osmonds were tops for the following five weeks with “One Bad Apple.” Hey, I didn't say every one of the songs had deep meaning, but most of them were easy to sing in the shower or in the car.

This month back in 1971, we were listening to Three Dog Night's “Joy to the World.” Other artists who had top hits that year are well known even today, including Rod Stewart, Paul and the late Linda McCartney, the late Janis Joplin, Carole King, James Taylor and the Rolling Stones. Now, how many of the singers we heard Sunday night will still be performing 40 years from now?

There were some very talented performers on the Billboard show that night. But unfortunately, we live in a disposable world. We buy new computer printers when the ink cartridges run dry, we replace our laptops with tablets, our tube TVs with flat screens and on and on.

I guess that's why I long for the good old days and why I cherish every one of my Chicago records, those big, flat things you play at 33 rpm on something called a turntable. Ask your grandparents.

Renovation, destruction, construction

By Jeff Orvis

Last weekend, Belle Plaine commemorated its proud association with the railroad with a celebration. Part of Railroad Days included tours if the city's depot a half block off the main street. The depot has been out of service for several years, but has stood as a proud reminder of the good old days when our town shipped freight and passengers to other parts of the country.

This depot is different than many of those you might have seen. Instead of a one-story structure with a canopy, this is a massive brick building with at least two full floors. It has been owned by several parties since it was abandoned by the railroad. The latest owner has started a bit of a renovation, repairing the roof and doing some tuck pointing, etc.

On Saturday, the building was open to the public. It drew several generations of area residents, including some retired railroad workers. Those folks were rather easy to spot. They were the ones who had a faraway look in their eyes as they remembered other times.

The present owner of the building has kept the grounds well kept as well as the work he has done to slow the deterioration of the building. But one look inside not only indicates what once was, but what might be needed to return the building to a useful purpose. The old phrase “they don't make buildings like they used to” readily comes to mind when you look inside. I'm certainly no expert on building construction, but it is clear that those in charge of the construction of this building built it to withstand decades of passing trains that shake the ground as they pass within 20 feet.

Since I first moved here in 1997, many long time residents have expressed two dreams for improvement in their community: a four-lane Highway 30 north of town and the renovation and development of the depot. The state has the highway in its future plans and many folks around here are still hopeful they will still be driving when it is finally completed. The depot is waiting for someone with deep pockets, as well as a deep appreciation for railroad history and for development to come forward and bring the old building back to life.

Residents of Belle Plaine have already shown they have the spirit and appreciation it takes to bring back old buildings from decay. A street scape project has breathed new life into the town's main street. Before I left here in 2010, there was a move to renovate a long neglected corner storefront. It had been a saloon and various other things over the years, but most recently, it was a haven for pigeons and other creatures and a quick look inside showed dead birds and a disgusting amount of stuff beyond description.

City leaders spent the money to have the place cleaned and the structure made ready for new tenants. Today, it is a beautiful pharmacy.

I was thinking about renovation vs. demolition of buildings as I toured the depot and later when I learned that the Atlanta Braves are planning on leaving Turner Field for a new stadium in the suburbs. The Braves have played at Turner field for a grand total of less than 20 years. Now the owners think they need to move.

When I was growing up, my dad was a Minnesota Twins fan. We had friends who lived near the Twin Cities, so I got to see several Twins games. Some of them were at the Metropolitan Stadium, an outdoor stadium with plenty of parking that was then in the suburbs. That stadium is gone and the Mall of America is on that location. A few years ago we saw a couple of games in the Metrodome. It was right in the middle of downtown Minneapolis, but it had easy access and close parking. We sat in the upper reaches of the stadium for one game and the steps leading to our seats would have been better reached with the help of mountain climbing gear. We saw another game from the left field lower level seats, which were surprisingly good seats.

Now the Metrodome property is a vacant lot. The Twins moved to Target Field, an outdoor stadium, a few years ago and the NFL Vikings moved to the University of Minnesota's field until their new stadium is completed. Both of these new venues are outdoor stadiums. I pride myself in being a big pro sports fan. But if I lived in Minnesota and could afford season tickets, I would be a big perturbed that I might have to sit outside in late November to watch the Vikings or early April for a Twins game when just a couple of years ago, I could have seen them in comfort.

Other cities have seen their pro sports teams move. St. Louis had a wonderful stadium downtown and in the last 10 years it has been replaced with another right next door. Yankee Stadium was also abandoned for a sparkling new structure, complete with heart-stopping admission prices.

I guess that's why I applaud the Ricketts family in their goal of saving and improving Wrigley Field in Chicago. Sure they've had their share of scrapes with the city and some of their neighbors. But they realize that a big part of Cub history is Wrigley field and they seem intent on preserving it.

I am certainly not against improvement. I like the smell and look of a new place as much as the next guy. But in many cases, you don't have to knock down something old to replace it. Owners of downtown properties in Belle Plaine realize that. The people who have the final say in where their pro sports teams will play might take a lesson from our store owners.

And maybe one of those owners who save money by not building a new stadium will be railroad buffs, drive through our town and decide to leave a little money...

Looking back on the first 61

By Jeff Orvis

On the eve of the start of my 62^nd year, this might be a good time to look back on my first 61. Although I've had my share of aches and pains and minor afflictions over the years, I am so thankful that my ailments have been few, especially compared to many friends and relatives who have dealt with so much more.

I firmly believe that my choice of career has had a lot to do with my seemingly good health. I have had an increasing awareness of the power of God and prayer over the past few years and I realize He has a plan for me. Several of my friends and relatives have had long careers in factories or offices, etc. I'm sure that most of them have been compensated better than I. But in my more than 35 years in the news business, much of that time has been spent in elementary or high schools, in gyms, auditoriums or playing fields.

These times make it worthwhile even when I have had to miss some things to attend school board or city council meetings. Hank Aaron's 714^th homer? I was at a school board meeting. The last MASH episode? Another school board meeting. I've watched as teachers smile or even shed a tear on graduation day as they turn over the future of students to their next step. Teachers are like the academic parents for young people. 

In that way, I guess I have been like a grandfather. I might stop in at a school for a game, concert or story, but then I can leave, while the teachers stay to witness the highs and lows of their students.

So in many ways, more than half of my first 61 years have flown by. I've discovered that as you get older, not only does the body not do what your mind wants it to do as quickly as it may have 20 years earlier, but you don't necessarily remember what happened in a particular year.

Somebody mentioned the year 1995 a few days ago and I realized that I couldn't recall a particular highlight of that date 19 years ago!

And yet, even in this old brain, some years still stay with me. In 1958, when Mom was walking me to kindergarten, a young tomcat came out of the woods and adopted us for nearly a decade. I was just old enough to feel the nation's pain in 1963 when we all heard that awful news from Dallas – the assassination of President Kennedy.

A lot happened in 1968. I thought I didn't want to relive that year again, especially with the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy. A high point came in 1971 with high school graduation. I still remember the funny feeling I had that afternoon. I was heading for my freshman year at Central College in Pella, so I knew where I was going to be in September. But there was so much uncertainty. I went for a long walk with my best friend, Lynn. As she tried to help me sort through the meaning of life, we arrived back at her house. I vaguely remember her dad saying I looked like I needed a drink (it was legal for 18-year-olds at the time). But somehow I made it through graduation, held in the high school gym, even though a transformer blew shortly before the ceremony and we sat through an increasingly hot time.

Just as the Alcoa eagle will soon be pushed out of the home nest, my flight came in 1977, when I moved 125 miles from home for a job at the Independence newspaper. The next year that pops in my mind is 1981, a warm August Sunday night, when I got the call from one of Mom's friends that my dad had suffered a fatal heart attack. It was a lonely 2 ½ hour trip home that night, when I had plenty of time to talk to God to give me strength for the coming days.

There was marriage and an instant family in 1991 and a lot of life lessons in the subsequent years. When my career in Independence came to a close in 1997, we moved to Belle Plaine, for another great opportunity in community journalism. When the economy beat me over the head again in 2010, I made the move to live with Mom in Davenport. By this time, the boys were grown and their mom and I were separated. But I had a couple of good years with Mom, even if the job hunt didn't work out.

I mentioned being reluctant to relive the year 1968, but my initial thought was I really never wanted to relive August, 2012. Much of that month was spent at my mom's bedside in the hospital, as she endured three major surgeries. She didn't recover from that last one.

Through all of the tears and enormous sense of loss of that time, one very positive thought comes to mind: Who says a Lutheran pastor and a Methodist pastor can't act as a team for comfort and reassurance of eternal life for believers? Pastor Locke (Mom's pastor) and Pastor Kirkpatrick (my pastor) are leaders of big Quad-City congregations. But they spent many hours in prayer, singing favorite hymns and words of encouragement in that hospital room.

After the initial period of mourning, my real work began. I was, and still am, the executor of Mom's estate. She lived modestly. She had a few investments, etc., but she didn't own a lot of farms. We finally sold her home, which reminded my why I am thankful I never attempted to own property. But it meant I had to find another place to live and that led to another leap of faith for me as I moved back here to Belle Plaine.

So that briefly covers 61 grand and at times adventurous years in a nutshell. I've decided that people who live in fear of what bad thing will happen to them as they grow older are even worse off than those who ignore the signs of advancing age. Life is a constant battle of vigilance and gratitude. It might be a shock when I glance in the mirror in the bathroom when I wake up each morning and that old man stares back at me. But if I can replace a scowl with a little smile and a little prayer for another day, that might mean several more years of adventures!