Life Changing Moments

I’ll admit…I’ve been lax in pumping out regular blogs to Core Crow.  I plan to rectify that deficiency.  Perhaps it can be construed as a New Years resolution.  But really, it’s just that I enjoy writing and want to do so more often.

 

Since writing my last blog a year ago, a LOT has changed.  My life is completely different than it was just 6-months ago.  It’s been a bit of an adjustment, but…so far…a welcome one.  Let me tell you about it with a little background info to set the stage.

 

On 30 May 2017, my wife and I celebrated 40-years of knowing each other.  I met my soon-to-be child bride on Monday, 30 May 1977, in Weingarten, Missouri at the home of her parents.  I was 17-years old, and she looked to be all of about 14 at the most.  Unlike the ‘Once Upon a Time’ stories, I didn’t ride in on a white stallion ready to slay the dragon and free her from her castle prison.  And likewise, she wasn’t in her finest silk and lace gown crying for help to the first handsome prince that happened to come along.  No, it was a little less dramatic than that, or more so depending on your seat in the gallery.

 

I’m not sure what I was wearing; probably bell bottom blue jeans and a button-down shirt of some kind.  This dude on the left was probably pretty close.  But my hair was definitely at least 6-inches above the top of my head, and around the sides, and back, in the most perfect of afro’s a 70’s guy could hope for.  I guess you could say it was my crown of glory here on earth.  I had a bigger fro than any of the black guys I knew.  It was a work of art.  I was a babe magnet.  Don’t be jealous.  I’m just stating the facts as I remember them.

 

I was with my Dad when I walked into her parent’s house that day.  Our parents were old friends from years before we were both born.  I suppose for Dad it was a reunion of sorts.  17-year old kids don’t really care about old people’s relationships, so I’m just guessing.  As I stood in the living room watching them greet each other like old pals at a high school reunion, around the corner was peeking this young lass who looked all of 13 or 14 at the most.  I had previously been told she would be headed off to summer camp the following week.  As Ray Stevens once sang, “There she stood in all her radiant beauty”, wearing an old t-shirt above Daisy Duke shorts, barefooted, and her hair up in rollers.  Marty McFly said it best; “You are my density”.

 

After some courteous hellos she disappeared, only to reappear some time later looking like she must have sent out her older sister; wearing a strappy little sun dress, platform heels, long brunette curls hanging down a little brown face, but with that same shy smile beneath the chocolate brown eyes.  At the behest of her parents later that night, she sat down at the piano and it happened.  The cygnet I had seen only a few hours before began playing and singing like the graceful lead in a ballet performance of Swan Lake.  Being from a musical family myself, interest was inserted into my youthful head.  The story was beginning. 

 

At some point she went into the kitchen to fix us something to eat and I followed.  It was the first time we had a chance to speak without the hovering parents around.  Somewhere in our conversation I discovered she was not 14…rather, she was 18.  Huh???  A year OLDER than me? And how about that summer camp trip next week?  She wasn’t a kid looking forward to making a macramé coin purse.  She was one of the counselors.  My pulse increased…but I remained cool, calm and collected…like Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood or 0-0-7.  My casual reply?  “You know…you’re going to make someone a good wife someday”.  That’s it?  That was the Rhett Butler to Scarlet O’Hara line that you chose Billy Boy?  <insert eye roll here>  I’m an idiot!  She politely giggled like good little school girls are supposed to do while twirling her hair.  I was moronic at best.  She was intoxicating!

 

The Shady Dell - 1957 Airfloat

Fast forward 40 years later and that same little grown up girl and I found ourselves in the little town of Bisbee, Arizona.  We were renovating a 1957 camping trailer and I had found a campground with all vintage trailers you could rent like a motel room called The Shady Dell.  We went there to celebrate that day we met and spent the weekend in a 1957 Airfloat camper.  We had a blast! 

 

For those who’ve never been to Bisbee, or even heard of it, it’s an old copper mining camp that has since flourished into a sort of hippie enclave mixed with more traditional free spirits located a mile up in the Mule Mountains in southeastern Arizona only 5-6 miles from the Mexican border.  It’s about as diverse a group of people as you’ll find; rich in history but with a laid-back vibe, now that the mines are closed.  Old Bisbee reminds us of Europe with it’s winding little streets, hillside homes, and various collections of mom-and-pop businesses.  The Warren district (where we live) was the first planned residential community in Arizona and was established several years before Arizona became a state in 1912.  Like our experiences living in the Azorean island of Terceira or what you might find in Hawaii where we discovered the concept of “island time”, we also found the same philosophy known as “Bisbee time”.  When planning anything you must consider the fact that most time stamps end in “-ish”.  The unofficial town motto: “Bisbee: Like Mayberry on Acid”.    

 

Lavender Jeep Tours

With no industry to speak of anymore, Bisbee caters to tourists who fill the streets, especially during summer months and weekends when the temperature is 15-20 degrees lower than in the Tucson or Phoenix valleys.  They offer a Lavender Jeep Tour, and we chose to take a ride in the open-air Jeep to see what Bisbee had to offer.  After seeing Old Bisbee’s unique houses, the Copper Queen Hotel, mercantile, Brewery Gulch and learning about its western cowboy and mining roots, we headed past the open pit mine down to Warren along a wide stretch of grass called Vista Park where folks have a picnic, play with their dogs, throw footballs to the kids, enjoy a game of tennis or visit the Farmer’s Market each Saturday. 

 

Across from the market is the oldest continuously used baseball field in America. Warren Ballpark was built in 1909; 5-years before Wrigley Field. Through its long history it saw the likes of such baseball legends as Babe Ruth, Jim Thorpe and Hal Chase.  The New York Giants and Chicago White Sox were the first major league teams to play there in 1913.  Along with many major and minor league teams, local teams beat up the turf as well.  Today it’s the home of the Bisbee High School Puma’s who play both baseball and football on the field and is host to a variety of other events such as the annual Mariachi Festival and car show.  It was also the site of the forced gathering of striking mine workers in the infamous "Bisbee Deportation" of 1917.

Warren Ballpark

Along the Vista and a stone’s throw from the farmer’s market and ballpark, our Jeep tour stopped in front of a lovely old craftsman style home that the driver told us was the John Treu Home, listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  John Treu was a butcher who owned a meat market in Old Bisbee in the early 20^th century.  He had lived there with his wife and three children after it was built in 1919. Several years later it was sold to a local legend in mining and banking, Lemuel C. Shattuck after marrying his new bride, Mary. Along the wrought iron fence in front was a nice big sign.  For Sale!

 

The John Treu House - National Register of Historic Places

Without boring you with details…we sold our house in the Phoenix valley and bought the John Treu house, moving to Bisbee within 2-months.  It was in this home that we celebrated our 40^th wedding anniversary on 26 November 2017.  To our friends it seemed like a sudden and snap decision.  But after 30-years of military life, it seemed like just another move.  But this time, to a cooler (literally) and quaint small town where we could enjoy life at a slower pace and actually get to know our neighbors again.

 

So, I offer my advice to my grandchildren and great-grandchildren who are bound to come along.  Be very very careful who you make a corny one-liner to in your youth.  It may just come back and cause you to live happily ever after.

 

Come visit!

 

-          Papa Chief