Moon landing July 1969

Moon Landing July 1969

Oma (grandma) Hardeman had lived on the same street all of her married life.  She was born in the 1800’s and had seen technology go from horse drawn wagons to trains, automobiles, and airplanes.  She survived wars and depressions.  As far as I know, she had never been out of Holland.  Oma and Opa came down to our house to watch TV almost every night.  One of their favorite shows was an American western called “High Chaparral”.  I told them that I had visited my sister in Tucson, Arizona where they filmed the show.  Oma was certain there was no place like that.  She thought they filmed it in a gravel pit.  I brought out some pictures from Arizona that I had taken on my visit.  I finally convinced her that there really was a southwestern desert.

She was much harder to convince that they were really going to land people on the moon.  The moon landing that July was going to happen late at night European time, and she kissed us all “Good-bye” when she left because if they really tried to land on the moon, it would be the end of the world.

I rode the bus to work the next morning wearing my uniform.  When I got on the bus everybody shook my hand and congratulated me on my country’s great accomplishment.  I was overwhelmed with pride to be an American.  With the Vietnam war going on, the Americans in Europe were not always getting good press.  I found myself with mixed emotions as I tried to somehow justify what we were doing in Southeast Asia.  That morning on the bus I didn’t feel I had to justify anything and accepted the praise for my country with a big smile.

That night when Oma came to our house, I said “See Oma, the world didn’t come to an end.”

She wasn’t convinced.  “They just filmed that where they film “High Chaparral!”

I was interviewed about this story on an NPR radio show called “The Story”.  You can listen to the archived broadcast at: http://thestory.org/archive/the_story_819__the_anniversary_of_the_moon_landing.mp3/view

Oma & Opa Hardeman (note Opa's wooden shoes)

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Christmas Carols

A few years ago on Christmas Eve we closed our store and headed to Boise to spend the evening with our son and his family.  If any of you have worked retail during the Christmas season, you know what a relief it is to lock the door after the hectic two months leading up to Christmas.  Hedda was sleeping in the passenger seat.  The sun was setting behind the snow covered Owyhee mountains.  Danskin and the foothills turned a deep red and the cotton clouds were turning shades of pink.

I was singing Christmas carols along with the radio when I heard my Father’s voice.  I have had this experience before.  Usually it happened when I was yelling at my son:

 “Steve, how many times have I told you to put my tools back where you found them!”

This time was different.  I was flooded with warm memories of family Christmases back in Minnesota.  I remembered the time when I was seven years old and came home from the hospital just days before Christmas.  I remembered when we kids went with Mom to buy the Christmas tree.  The man at the tree lot helped us tie it on top of our station wagon and we should have had a hint of the trouble to come when the tree was as long as the car.  We managed to get the tree in the house but it was too tall to stand up even with the high ceiling in the living room.  We had to get a neighbor to bring a bigger saw to cut it down to size and construct a tree stand that would fit the thick trunk.  The top we cut off gave us boys a tree of our own up in our bedroom.  I laughed out loud when I thought of my teenage sister watching my Dad hammering in the homemade candles on our enclosed porch.  He missed with the hammer and punched a hole through the porch window.  He turned red shouted “Confound it!” and threw the hammer down on the floor.  The hammer then bounced up and went right through the picture window into the living room.  My sister was literally biting her tongue to keep from laughing.

The anticipation of the grand kids opening their presents, the beautiful sunset, the relaxed look on my sleeping wife’s face, the familiar carols, the memories, all together gave me my “Hallmark Moment”.

Mary and Joseph also must have had their “Hallmark Moments” as they thought back to that first Christmas.  The excitement of the journey to Bethlehem, being stuck out in the barn when her labor started, the angels singing, the shepherds and wise men visiting, the adventure of heading home again.  These must have been some tremendous memories as they got back to their normal lives.  Joseph went back to his carpentry work.  Mary started to her life as a new mom.  That first Christmas must have faded in the mundane “back to normal life” in Nazareth.

So when the time came for them to bring Jesus to Jerusalem and the ritual of purification, the words of Simeon and Anna must have shocked them back into reality. 

This was not just a son, this was The Messiah.

I can’t imagine the sense responsibility they must have felt.

Now it’s our turn.

Well it is great to feel the “Christmas Spirit” and have those “Hallmark moments”, it is time for us to get to work and spread the news.

While the Christmas carols that we sing tend to bring back those cozy memories, we need to take the time and listen to the words we sing.  Most of the familiar songs use other than modern English.  We hardly ever use “Hark” in our daily conversations and when I was a young boy and heard “Hark the herald angels sing”, I wondered how my uncle Harold got his name in a Christmas song.

Now I know that the words mean - pay attention to the news the angels are spreading - but I still think of my uncle Harold!

So how do we at spread the news?

Joy to the world!

Be happy.  Make people wonder what’s going on.  Maybe they will ask you how you seem so satisfied with your life when everything in life is so tough.  Be ready to tell your story.

Away in the Manger

It’s hard to believe the King of the world was born in a stable and laid in a manger.  We must learn that we can humble ourselves also.  We do not need the biggest house or car or TV.  We do not need the fanciest clothes.  We must learn not to look down on the homeless and out of luck.  If Jesus can come from such humble beginnings we should look for His presence in our humble surroundings. 

Silent Night.

Take time to meditate the wonder of Christ being born a person.  Think about Jesus falling down and skinning his knee.  When times are tough remember that he went through everything that we do and so much more.  Pray and thank him for what is good in our life and ask him for strength when times are tough.

I have one more Christmas carol story.  A young girl asked her dad about church and God.  He told her he did not believe in God.  The girl was exposed to church through her friends and grandparents.  The four year old decided that she Believed!  They were visiting the grandparents and went to the Christmas Eve service.  Her Dad was singing along with the familiar carols when she told him,  “You better not sing because God will hear you and you will end up in heaven!”

September 1969

We went through the border control and we were in Germany.  We stopped at the rest area and fed the baby.  Lisa was six weeks old and already she was entering a foreign country.  Her mother was seventeen and out of Holland for the first time in her life.  We drove another hour and Hedda started asking when we would get there, after all we are in Germany.  I explained that we still had five to six hours of driving to get to our new assignment at Ramstein AFB.  She could not comprehend that a country could be so big that you could drive six hours and still be in the same country.  Over the next 40 years she would see more of the world then she could ever imagine.  I had been down there already and found an apartment.  It had two rooms and a shared bathroom in the hall.  The rent was $40 a month.

What a year it had been.  We met the end of June, got engaged on Hedda’s birthday December 1, got married March 14, we had to take refuge in a bar when there was a riot in Amsterdam on the Queen’s birthday, some men landed on the moon, Lisa was born August 7 (my 21^st birthday, what a present!) and left for Germany in September.

On our second date, we saw the band Golden Earring (of Radar Love fame).  This was before they made it big and they were playing dance tents.  Over the next six months we just got closer and closer until finally proposed.  It was very romantic.  I was leaving her house to go back to the base.  We were kissing goodbye and I said, “Maybe we can get married in the spring.”

We bought rings, planned a party, and picked a date.  Then we moved the date up.  We had to get my parents to sign a statement that it was ok for me to get married because I was under 21.  We had to get the Queen’s permission because Hedda was under 18.

There was some drama when Hedda lost her ring.  She was in the shower and she noticed it missing.  She started screaming and pulling up the grate on the floor of the shower.  We all came running to find out what was wrong.  We looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.  She was soaking wet and wrapped in a towel.  I comforted her and said we can get a replacement.  The ring is only a symbol of our love.  I finally got her calmed down and she went back to finish her shower.  Then she started laughing (Remember I told you about her special laugh!)  She found her ring in the washcloth.

We planned a huge party at home.  I sold my motorcycle to fund it.   We filled Ed’s car so full of beer from the base that we sloshed when we went around corners.  Kelly was my sponsor and Ma Feddema (Margaret’s Mom) was Hedda’s.  The wedding party was picked up by 1956 Lincoln black limousines, and we were picked up by 1963 white Chevy Impala.  We were taken to the town hall for the ceremony.  It lasted about half an hour and was in English and Dutch.  I still tease her that I didn’t know what was going on.  We were the last ones to go out and there was a crowd of friends cheering as we got into the cars.  We drove all around the town with horns blowing and then headed back to our house.

If the success of a party depends on someone getting mad and leaving early and everybody else having a great time, then our party was a success!  We borrowed Ed’s car for the first night and had a hotel room in a nearby town.  The next day we took the train to Rotterdam.  The land lady in the hotel kind of got between Hedda and me as we went upstairs to look at the room.  She asked Hedda, “Does your mother know where you are?”  Hedda replied, “Well, We are married!”  I always say that our wedding picture looks like two little kids playing dress up.  Maybe we were two little kids!  Oh well you can’t argue with 41 years of success.

Hedda meets Steve

I arrived in Holland for my first assignment with the US Air Force after tech school, in June 1968.  After a couple of weeks, my boss invited Ed and me to visit his house in Doorn.  He said the neighbor girl and her friend wanted to meet some American guys to help them with their English.  It was our first exploration off base by ourselves.  We had the bus connections and directions on how to find the house.  And miracle of miracles we found it right away!  As we were standing at the front door two teenage girls went flying out the back door and jumped on their "bromfiets" or mopeds.  I said "I get the blonde in the mini skirt!"
Kelly let us in and fixed us up with a beer.  The girls will be right back they just had to go and do girl things.  They did come back and we were introduced to Gerda and Margaret.  Now the name things were a problem.  Ed and Margaret were simple enough, but there was some confusion about me.  I introduced myself as Steve, but Ed and Kelly kept calling me Gus.  And Gerda was pronounced as "Gghgerrrda" or something like that.  (Note:  We gave Hedda her nickname because not many Americans would be able to say her name correctly and she would be called Gerda.)  She said her name with sounds that came from deep in her throat and some sounds that I had never tried before.  I spent a while looking into her eyes and trying to mimic her.  She had (and still does) this beautiful laugh.  I was hooked, even if I didn't know it at the time.  I was 19 and not ready to get serious.  She was 16 (she told me 17) and not ready to get serious with some GI.  But things sometimes happen when we are not ready.  We had a great afternoon with lots of laughs.  The language problem was interesting.  Hedda had learned a little English in school and Margaret’s mother was Scottish but had lived in Holland for 25 years.  She now spoke a combination English/Dutch with a Scottish accent and not many people could understand her.  Margaret spoke a form of English that she learned from her mom.  That first day must have been a success, because we made a follow up date for the next weekend.