Veteran Voices from LifeBio: Walter Allsop's Story

By Walter Allsop, Claremont Manor Retirement Community

My name is Walter Allsop, and I was born in 1928. I served in the Navy as a Seaman 1st Class on the Aircraft Carrier USS Valley Forge CV-45.  

I had graduated high school mid-term, and I was working part-time in a machine shop and also delivering by motor scooter for a drug store. I chose to enlist because I wanted to be in the Navy, mainly because my father had been. Older friends from school felt the Navy had been the best choice for them, as well, so in April of 1946, I enlisted in Los Angeles. My parents took me to the “Enlistment Ceremony" at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, which had a large class. From there, we were bussed to the San Diego Naval Base for training.

Boot camp and training sure was a new way of life for me! Every day was different, but always regulated. We were tested for water safety, up early, and participated in military drilling. I had a short haircut, which led to sunburn on my nose and ears. I missed home and my girlfriend, Mary. I also missed my car, which I had given to my brother. The food was plain, and some days better than others, but we had little choice. The barracks and routines were preparing us for military life. There were no weekend passes until toward the end of training.

Finally, the long hours of basic training ended. We left by train for Rhode Island (by way of Mexico and Canada). There was no travel priority for a troop train, and it took almost a week. There were no showers or bunks, and the food was brought aboard on certain stops.

Everything was new to me on the East Coast. I felt the "Petty Officers" in the First Division were fair and reasonable, resulting in a "tight-knit" group, and I made lasting friends. We went to New York many times on "leave" from Philadelphia. We saw the Empire State Building, Ellis Island, and much more. Often at the movies, there would be entertainers on stage, such as Billie Holiday.

An amusing incident comes to mind. Several of our group were returning to the ship from a "Night on the town." One of our group wanted to bring liquor on board with him, which was strictly against the rules. Bradley was ordered to throw the bottle overboard. He quickly removed one of his new shoes and threw it over. The officer on duty didn't see the shoe go, but heard the splash. He took it to be the liquor.

While waiting for the Valley Forge CV-45 to be commissioned, I had three weeks of leave, and I sent for Mary to come to Philadelphia, where we were married. After our wedding, we stayed in Philadelphia. We often had friends from the ship visit us to play cards and join us for dinner. My friends were as anxious to start the cruise as I was.

Once underway, I was so impressed to be onboard this huge carrier as we went through the docks! I had been trained in firing the 5" cannons in the “Gun Tubs,” which needed to be removed for passage. We were on the way to San Diego. As soon as we got there, I was taken off the ship and sent to Balboa Naval Hospital where I had surgery on my knee. It wasn’t long until I was aboard the next ship leaving San Diego for Hawaii to rejoin my crew. Arriving in Hawaii, I could see ships that were sunk in the bay, and there was much destruction. From there, our ship was soon headed for the Panama Canal.

I wrote many letters home to my parents and Mary. I gave them much information about the Valley Forge maiden cruise: a good will cruise around the world. There have been three Valley Forge Aircraft Carriers. I have a "plank" from the flight deck of the original ship that I was on. 

I was discharged in February of 1948 at the U.S. Naval Air Station in Alameda, California. I flew home from Hawaii to San Francisco for it. Mary had found an apartment; and there was so much to do: start school, work, and family. After I left the service, I returned to work at the machine shop. I entered John Muir College, graduated, and applied to Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department, and was accepted. I applied to USC, using the GI Bill of Rights, and I stayed in college until I received my master's degree. 

Mary and I went on to have two daughters, and now we have eight grandchildren and three great-grandchildren!

-Walter Allsop, Claremont Manor Retirement Community

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website.

 

Veteran Voices: James Downing from Vista de Monte Retirement Community

By James Downing, resident at Vista del Monte Retirement Community

My name is James, and my highest rank was First Lieutenant. I served in this position at Ft. Lewis, Washington, in the Ninth Infantry. I enlisted because the Korean War was being fought and my preference was to go into the Army. I believed this was my duty, since we were at war.

At the time that I enlisted, I was married to my wife, Marguerite, and I was working as a sixth-grade teacher in the Torrance Unified School District, in Los Angeles County. I left my wife and traveled by train to Fort Ord, California, for Basic Training. What I remember the most is that I was very lonely for Marguerite, and any leave time that I had, I spent with her.

After six months of Basic Training, I was selected to be the outstanding soldier of my training company. My first assignment was as an instructor at leadership school. After two months in that role, I was ordered to the Officer Candidate School at Fort Benning, Georgia, and I trained for six months there.

I served the remainder of my service as Assistant Adjutant Officer assigned to the Ninth Infantry Regiment at Ft. Lewis in Washington. My duties included Courts & Boards, Safety, and Personnel. Although I did not see any combat, half the men in my training company went to Korea, and 50% of these did not return alive. I still feel guilty that so many of the men I knew became casualties, but I served elsewhere.

My commanding officer, a Colonel, was outstanding and a wonderful officer; however, my immediate superior, a Major, was the worst. Upon leaving the military, I resumed teaching and was assigned to the ninth grade at Torrance High. I did graduate work at UCLA, where I received my Master of Arts, and I went on to teach at Lincoln Junior High School in Santa Monica, California.”


LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website.

Veteran Voices from LifeBio: Dr. John Grover

by Dr. John Grover, resident at Fredericka Manor Retirement Community

On my 18th birthday, I enlisted in the Navy – my older brother was already a Navy pilot. At the time that I enlisted, the war was still on, so I felt committed to being a serviceman. I wanted to be a hospital corpsman, but because I did well on the Eddy Test, I was earmarked for electronics school, which is what I ended up doing. A whole year of intensive technical training in electronics was good preparation for college. After my training ended, I volunteered to go anywhere in the world and was sent to Washington, D.C., where I helped develop new electronic communications equipment. Learning to deal with the pressures and experiences of complex electronics service was a good background for my future medical career. I later "shipped over" to gain the GI Bill to help pay for my educational expenses. By then the war was over, so I did not see combat.

Boot camp at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station was marred by my catching mumps and being hospitalized for three weeks. The war ended while I was in basic training, and I remember singing in a 10,000-voice choir to celebrate. I kept a diary during my technical schooling in Gulfport, Mississippi, but I was more concerned with describing the pretty girls at the USO or sailing trips on the Gulf of Mexico. I remember one time when I knitted a pair of booties at the USO for my new nephew, to amazing looks from the girls.

Upon my discharge from the Navy, I went directly from my station in Maryland to Harvard College, and did not get home until Christmas, 1949. I felt immediately at home at Harvard Yard that year. I was one of the vets still turning up for college, and we had mature goals. I had a Pepsi Cola scholarship that helped with college expenses, and I had saved the GI Bill so that I could attend medical school. A fellowship sponsored by the Josiah Macy Foundation helped with post-graduate education. I felt excited but really at home in finally getting the medical training I had always wanted. I went on to become a doctor, specializing in obstetrics/gynecology. In fact, I have delivered over 5,000 babies in my 40-year medical career!

Music has always been an important part of my life, from the early tutorings of my mother on piano to learning the trombone with Frank Troy, Sr. and Mildred Fowler in high school. I played in a traveling dance band in the summers of 1943 and 1944, and also with a band in the Navy, with weekly concerts on the Potomac River. In college, I played with the Harvard band, a full-sized dance band, and a small Dixieland group. During my adult life, I sang in church choirs regularly, because tenors are always needed. These activities have continued throughout my retirement, both in Chicago and here in Chula Vista.

I am grateful for the gift of good health throughout my life. I am especially grateful for my wife, Philippa, whom I have known since our childhood days in West Virginia, and the wonderful family we have shared.

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website. 

Veterans' Voices from LifeBio: Ronald Max Bailey

In honor of Veterans Day, we are featuring stories of Front Porch residents who served in our armed forces. This is the story of Ronald Max Bailey, an England Oaks Retirement Community resident, who began his service in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War.

"I served in the United States Navy. I was on active duty from September 1970 until October 1982. I achieved the rank of Senior Chief while I was on active duty. I then served in the Reserves from 1983-1996, and I was promoted to Warrant Officer CW2 while in the Naval Reserves.

I attended Lamar University in Beaumont, Texas. I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Biology. During this time, I married my wife, and we have now been together 46 years. My reason for receiving a Bachelor of Arts in Biology was because I planned to be a teacher. Plans changed.

I enlisted in the Navy, so that I was not drafted. It was my decision to enlist, because I wanted to serve my country by ensuring the Navy ships accomplished their missions. I liked watching ships when I was young. I also liked traveling.  

It was bittersweet for me to leave home. My wife was expecting our son and even though she was very anxious, she saw me off. After about two months, it was requested by our OB that I should be allowed to come home for the birth of our son, as it was going to be a risky delivery. I was there for three or four days before we knew he was out of danger.

Boot camp was an initiation to Hell Week! I lost about 30-40 pounds during boot camp. We had many hours of rigorous exercises and the food was very BAD! I was one of a few enlistees who could type, so I did that most of the time. That was a great escape for me, as I enjoyed the air conditioned office and not having to complete most of the exercises.

After completing boot camp, I received specialization in my Naval Rate as Machinist Mate. When I went to my first duty station in Alameda, California, I got to be more hands-on at nuclear power plants in my rate of Machinist Mate. After completing my required schooling, I stayed in Alameda, California, for about six months before I was told to go to the nuclear powered aircraft carrier, the USS Enterprise. Life on an aircraft carrier is like living on a floating city. Like any other job in the civilian world, if you do your job well and promptly, everyone was happy.

I did not see any actual combat, because the Enterprise was out at sea. The aircraft completing missions took off from the carrier. Some returned in bad condition, but they were home safe and sound. Even though we did not see combat, I felt proud that I was completing my assigned tasks to the best of my ability. My most memorable experience was in our port of call in Tasmania. The locals met the ship and took several of us home to eat, sight-see, and talk! The family I went home with treated me very well. We ate wonderful home-cooked meals, did a lot of guided sight-seeing, and just having a comfortable bed was great. 

My wife and mother wrote a lot of letters and we were able to call home some during long deployments. The letters acted as a link between my wife, son, and parents. My wife wrote many more letters than I did, which was a source of support for me. This, along with my faith in God, got me through rough times.  

My last duty command was under Captain Hilt, who was in command of the USS South Carolina (CGN 37). He was a good leader, in that our whole command received the Enlisted Surface Warfare Service Award. My wife worked with Mrs. Hilt in the Wives Club and as an ombudsman! Being on my last deployment to the home port of Norfolk was bittersweet, as I knew my discharge from the Navy was near. I truly loved my service in the U.S. Navy. We were welcomed home by a huge mass of people who met the ship. The community was a great welcome, too.

Upon my discharge from the Navy, I worked for three nuclear power plants as an instructor for new operators. I also spent several years employed by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. I did many on-site inspections of nuclear power plants in many states. I would have stayed in the Navy longer, but deployments were often long and in-port time was not nearly long enough. One of my deployments lasted 13 months. All in all, I was very proud of being a sailor in our U.S. Navy. I felt I was doing my part to protect our country!”

-Ronald Max Bailey

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website.

Making a Memoir a Reality

At 87, she wrote her life story and created a family treasure

By Edmund O. Lawler for Next Avenue

When my mother was a teenager, she got to meet the most famous athlete of the 20th century.

It was 1947. Babe Ruth, by then stricken with throat cancer, granted my mom and her sister a private audience in the beautiful Manhattan apartment he shared with his wife, Claire. The girls, accompanied by their mother, were awestruck as the now-retired Sultan of Swat autographed photos and chatted amiably with them about baseball in a painfully raspy voice. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell the Babe, who would die a year later, that she was a fan of her hometown Chicago White Sox.

My mom was celebrating her recent high school graduation with a train trip from Chicago to New York where she rode the coasters at Coney Island, beheld the Statue of Liberty and dined at the Stork Club. The visit with Babe was a complete surprise — arranged by her businessman father and one of his confidants in New York City.

This memorable trip is among the many delicious moments captured in a self-published 2011 memoir written by my mom, Jean Oliver Lawler, for her 12 grandchildren. In good health at age 87 and calling a senior living center outside Chicago home, she titled her 115-page book How Do You Eat an Elephant? (One Bite at a Time). It’s an aphorism she often summoned to buck up her six children when facing a daunting challenge — and a motivational mantra she relied on to persist in the writing and publication of the memoir.

Her Memoir: a Challenging Endeavor

Mom was a nurse, a teacher and a homemaker, but never a writer. She didn’t use a computer. Still, she had a life story to tell.

Not long after my father died, she enrolled in a creative writing class at the community center near her home. The instructor’s feedback on her initial drafts was blunt.

Memoir writing was first and foremost personal, he told her. Facts are important, but what makes them interesting is how you feel about the facts. Her initial drafts lacked in this area, he admonished.

For further guidance, Mom read several memoirs, including some written by her friends. She found she was bored by autobiographies that unfolded chronologically, much preferring memoirs featuring vividly poignant vignettes from throughout the writer’s life.

One day, she bumped into a lifelong friend in a diner. Lorraine had just written her own memoir and had a copy in her car. She encouraged my mom to press on in her quest and offered to transcribe any handwritten material. Mom was inspired, and Lorraine made good on her offer.

In addition, Mom was coached and critiqued by her granddaughter (my niece) Moira Lawler, a gifted writer and editor. She implored my mother to write, write, write.

Mom spilled a series of engaging hand-written vignettes on to legal pads over the course of a year. But at some point, the project stalled. She was getting frustrated and feared her grandchildren would never get to read her memoir.

As a professional writer and editor, I’m an old hand at wrangling copy to get an article or an entire publication into print or online. So I stepped in to help.

A Natural Writer

As with any project, there were loose ends — in this case, computer files of transcribed chapters and a stack of handwritten chapters I needed to transcribe and edit. But I was struck by how well my mother expressed herself on the written page. Her writing was lovely and simply stated. She had an innate sense for plot. My role as an editor was minimal.

The memoir’s tone was largely celebratory — featuring vignettes of wonderful vacations, great friendships, a 57-year marriage and the achievements of her children. There were expressions of gratitude as well as stories about her grandparents and parents. It was filled with family lore that was new — not only to her grandchildren — but also to me. Interspersed throughout the pages were more than 70 photographs that illustrated her life’s special moments.

One chapter was titled “The Aunt and Uncle You Never Knew.” Sadly, it recounted the deaths of two of her children: an infant named Eileen Mary and 19-year-old son Danny, who died in a car accident. I’ve always admired Mom’s and Dad’s fortitude and faith in the face of the staggering loss of two children. The memoir, a family treasure, ensures that memories of her beloved Eileen Mary and Danny will live on in the next generation.

In the memoir’s conclusion, my mother offers some final advice for her grandchildren. “Top of my list is prayer,” she wrote, “God is there to guide you through life, if you ask.”

In reading and editing my mother’s memoir, I learned things about her life I never knew. She is inspiring me to write my own for the benefit of my two sons. Too much in life goes unsaid. A thoughtful and honest memoir can resolve some of the mystery.

Despite having made a living by writing — and almost always about someone other than me — the thought of penning my own memoir is daunting. But thanks to Mom, I know what to do. She taught me how to eat an elephant: one bite at a time.

© Twin Cities Public Television - 2017. All rights reserved.



###

"Whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted."

by Chris Foster, resident at Wesley Palms Retirement Community


AS A PHYSICIAN I am bound, of course, by the Hippocratic Oath and its first principle, "Do no harm." This ancient document moves on to more positive aspirations and so do I. I have never considered it sufficient to simply avoid doing harm. I believe we have the moral obligation to seek to do good wherever, whenever, and in whatever way we can.

That was probably what motivated me while growing up in Glascow, Kentucky to choose a career in medicine. It began with a Bachelor's degree in Biology at Vanderbilt, followed by Med School at the University of Louisville. It was there I met and fell in love with Kathy, a nursing student from Indiana. We dated for a year, then decided to get married despite the fact that student nurses were not allowed to marry. A private ceremony was held in Kathy's home in Indiana and then we returned to Louisville and continued to live in our separate dormitories. We did keep an off-campus apartment, but that was kept secret too. Only on the day of Kathy's graduation two years later did we "come out" and wear our wedding rings in public.

Next came a three year residency in ear, nose and throat surgery in Roanoke, VA and a two-year hitch with the U.S. Air Force before I could begin my private practice back in my home town.

In 1969 Kathy and I and our two sons moved to La Jolla, California where I pursued the dual careers of surgery and teaching at the University of California San Diego (UCSD) School of Medicine. There was symmetry in that since I have always been both an active practitioner and a teacher.

While doing both of these demanding tasks I also became certified as a Bible instructor and for many years taught a large adult Sunday School class at La Jolla's Torrey Pines Christian Church. So now you know that a foundation of my philosophy of life and system of ethics is solidly based on Biblical principles.

My career as a surgeon came to a sudden end when I lost my sight, literally overnight. I am now legally blind, though I continue to see shapes and images "as through a glass darkly." I still dream some nights of being back in the Operating Room, but with nothing but a 40 watt bulb for light.

But when one door shuts another opens. I now, in my retirement, am actively involved with the Braille Society, both as a student and as a teacher.

Let me share with you one of the most important lessons I have ever learned. Several years ago I was President of the San Diego Ear, Nose and Throat Society. We were meeting at the beautiful Atlantis Restaurant. Our guest speaker was Dr. Bill House, who was one of the world's greatest ear surgeons. My job was to introducing him. Just prior to the introduction we were served Tortilla Soup. All of a sudden I got very hot. My tie had fallen into the hot soup and was being soaked up like litmus paper. As I stood to introduce him, Dr. House noticed my tie and my embarrassment. He then intentionally put his own silk tie into his soup. He began his speech by commenting that apparently this was a custom in San Diego. I never eat soup without remembering how this very great, but very humble, man helped ease my moment of red-faced chagrin. Ever since I have looked for moments when I might do something similar for someone else in their time of need.

"Whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted" is an excerpt from Aging As An Art Form: Through the Eyes Of Residents of Wesley Palms by Wesley Palms resident Don McEvoy. The book contains 50 stories, experiences and life lessons either self-written or told to Don through interviews.

Don McEvoy is storyteller, former pastor and civil rights activist. Aging As An Art Form is available from Outskirts Press and Amazon.com. Proceeds from the book benefit the residents of Wesley Palms.

Love, Laugh, Pray

By Bea Rogers, resident at Wesley Palms Retirement Community


THOSE THREE WORDS are one of the signs I have posted on the door of my suite here at Wesley Palms. Laugh, Love and Pray. That pretty well sums up my philosophy of life.

The other sign on my door is a note to God, telling Him that I am ready, but in no hurry. I celebrated my 99th birthday last month, but am in no rush to move on quite yet.

I grew up out in the country in Orange County, California in an area that later became Disneyland. Those were the years of the Great Depression. We were poor, but never went hungry. The chickens in the coop outback and a garden provided our basic needs. We wore uniforms to school, so I never had to worry about whether my dresses were as good as those of the other girls.

My favorite teacher, the one who had the greatest influence on me, taught music. More importantly she taught Life. I had the role of Yum Yum in our school production of The Mikado, and leads in several other shows. She was such a meaningful person that for many years twelve of us, three boys and their wives and three girls and their husbands, held an annual reunion with her, until she died.

I always loved to sing. In church, in school, everywhere. In later life I have often wondered why women seem to lose their voices, but men never do. Just look at the choir in almost any church and you will see young women and old men. It just doesn't seem fair.

But I am not complaining. I don't do that. I never did. Well, maybe I did once. In high school I worked in the cafeteria during the lunch hour. I was paid 15 cents a day and had no lunch. That was my spending money. But the boys who washed the dishes were paid 25 cents and given a free lunch. That was not fair, and I took the matter to our supervisor. His answer was: "But you are a girl." I told him that girls get hungry, too, but he didn't budge. Maybe I was a pioneer in the women's movement and just didn't know it at the time

Later I became a very successful business woman. A friend and I, who worked together in a dress shop in San Diego's North Park area, decided to go out on our own and start our own shop. Older, wiser, and more experienced people told us we simply did not have sufficient resources to begin a business, that we would surely fail, and lose what little we did have. We chose to ignore that advice. We struggled for a while, but we persevered. At least, I did.

My business partner stayed as long as she could and then announced her intention to "marry money" and left it all to me. A change of location to a rapidly developing area of the city brought success.

One era, when women's skirts were extremely short, I struggled every Sunday to keep my knees covered at church. Capris solved that problem for me. I guessed, correctly, that other women were having the same problem. My shop began to specialize in Capris and capitalized on that fashion trend.

I was married to a wonderful man for nearly 70 years. On our wedding day my father poked a finger in my chest and said, "I give this marriage two weeks." Every anniversary thereafter my husband would tell me, "Honey, your two weeks are almost up."

When I was in high school I told my mother, "If you will give me my freedom, I promise I will never do anything to embarrass you." Later, as a mother, I tried to be the freedom-giving and trusting person I had asked her to be. Raising a daughter was easy, an absolute delight. A son? What did I know about boys? But it turned out well. He is a wonderful man. My only advice to parents is: Love them. Just love them.

I can honestly say that I have never disliked anyone. I have thought about this a lot recently when considering what I wanted to say today, and I can confidently repeat it. I never disliked anyone.

And, I don't know how anyone could make it without God.
Love, Laugh, Pray is an excerpt from Aging As An Art Form: Through the Eyes Of Residents of Wesley Palms by Wesley Palms resident Don McEvoy. The book contains 50 stories, experiences and life lessons either self-written or told to Don through interviews.

Don McEvoy is storyteller, former pastor and civil rights activist. Aging as an Art Form is available from Outskirts Press and Amazon.com. Proceeds from the book benefit the residents of Wesley Palms.

Music, Poetry and Health Foods Are the Secret

by Wilma Haines, resident at Wesley Palms Retirement Community


IF YOU WERE one of the forty-four members of my family, you could expect a poem I had written especially for you on your birthday, every year. These, along with other poems I have written, now fill two large notebooks. That would not be the only time you heard from me, either. Over the years I have mailed Wilma's Weekly to them and my journals fill 42 books. They are in cursive writing which is not taught now. I think it is important to keep in touch.

My husband, Roger, and I were married for 74 years until his death a year ago. He was an air conditioning engineer and we moved extensively for his work, all across the Midwest, the Southwest and California. We also found time to participate in 14 Elderhostel travel seminars. Those programs, now called Road Scholar, came after we had raised five children.

My life has been filled with music. I was a music major at Drake University in Des Moines, Iowa back in the 1930s. After graduation I taught pubic school music for

two years, then took a "leave of absence" to give full attention to motherhood. Except for teaching private piano lessons.

I also played the violin some, but when a new chamber music trio was being organized and needed a cellist I decided I could probably switch instruments with ease. It wasn't as smooth a transition as I thought it would be, but I became quite proficient with the cello. It became my major instrument. I played with orchestras in Albuquerque and elsewhere for many years.

I also sang, and only retired from the choir at the Presbyterian Church in Laguna Woods a couple of years ago, at age 97.

But it wasn't just music that kept me active and alive. I love to read, especially historical fiction. Roger and I used to play at least three games of Scrabble every day. And, I hosted a Bible Study group in my home for many years. One must keep busy.

Another serious hobby was the planning and cooking of nutritious meals. I attribute my longevity to my devotion to healthy foods. Good eating habits and keeping actively involved are the secret I am happy to share.

 Music, Poetry and Health Foods Are the Secret is an excerpt from Aging As An Art Form: Through the Eyes Of Residents of Wesley Palms by Wesley Palms resident Don McEvoy. The book contains 50 stories, experiences and life lessons either self-written or told to Don through interviews.

Don McEvoy is storyteller, former pastor and civil rights activist. Aging as an Art Form is available from Outskirts Press and Amazon.com. Proceeds from the book benefit the residents of Wesley Palms.

Resident Voices: The Greatest Generation

By Ed McQuiston, resident at Casa de Mañana

This month we recognize another Casa resident, Albert Fitzpatrick, born and raised in Los Angeles, California. Upon graduating high school in 1943, he knew what he wanted to do – “Fly, rather than walk”. In July he enlisted in the Army Air Corps flight training program and received his wings as a Flight Officer. In New Guinea he flew troop support missions with combat cargo, infantry, and the wounded. Moving on into the Philippines then Okinawa and, eventually, Japan, he flew B-25, B-26, B-17, and cargo aircraft until 1946, when he returned home.

He remained in the Air Force active reserve in Long Beach, CA, attending USC, where he received a Bachelors degree in Business, then a Masters degree in Business Administration. Recalled in the Korean war, he flew C-47 aircraft in a weather squadron for a year.

Subsequent tours of duty included teaching Air Force ROTC classes at Baylor University in Business and Economics while he earned a Master of Science in Economics; then for one year study at the Air Force Institute of Technology; AF Contract Representative to the North American and Douglas Aircraft Manufacturers; After receiving a PhD. In Economics from USC, he taught economics classes for six years at the Air Force Academy. After 24 years, he retired from the Air Force in 1966 as a Major, with 6 Combat Air Medals, numerous battle stars and area campaign medals.

In his second career as a Professor of Economics, he taught classes at the University of Colorado and University of Maine, where he settled with his wife, June, to raise his family of 4 at Cape Elizabeth, Maine. He became a Registered Investment Adivisor and Expert Witness Authority on Personnel Economic Value in law cases up to and including being referenced by the Supreme Court. He finally retired at the age of 80.

 

How Sharing a Life Story Helps Dementia Caregivers

Conveying personal info lets others connect with your loved one

 

By Mike Good for Next Avenue

 

Thinkstock

One day while I was volunteering at a local adult care center, we had a new visitor who was confused and very unhappy that her daughter had left her there with us. She was agitated and was trying to leave.

Luckily, when they first arrived, her daughter had handed us a one-page life story about her mother who had dementia. After reading it, I was able to more easily connect with the lady.

Sharing Your Knowledge

As we discussed her career as a teacher, her agitation slipped away and we ended up having a very nice conversation. Without that knowledge, things would have been more difficult for both of us.

If you’re the primary caregiver of a person with dementia, you know your loved one’s likes and dislikes. You can read their moods. You know their routines and the people in their world. Nobody can care for them the same way you do.

But the act of sharing your loved one’s life story empowers others to better understand his or her traits, to connect and to provide better dementia care. In turn, you receive peace of mind when you take time for yourself.

A Different Reality

The reality of a person with dementia often slips into a past era of their life. For instance, it may be typical for the person to prepare for work each morning as they did for many years. Or they might start preparing to send their children off to school although their kids are fully grown and have left the nest.

When the people around them don’t understand this different reality, they often struggle to accept what seems like strange behavior. They may even try to correct the person and get in the way of their routine. This type of intervention generally causes the person with dementia to become further confused and agitated.

Losing the Ability to Hold Conversations

In addition to living in the past, at some point, the person with dementia will likely lose their ability to start and hold a conversation. This loss of communication, coupled with living in a different reality, puts them at further risk for becoming isolated in their own world.

 

However, when those around them know their life story, values and quirks, they can more easily join them in their reality. This flexible companionship generally results in a more peaceful experience with fewer negative behavioral issues.

Knowing a Dementia Patient’s Story

 

One of the points from the Best Friends Dementia Bill of Rights is that patients deserve “to be with individuals who know one’s life story, including cultural and spiritual traditions. “

When caregivers look at the whole person and his or her experiences, they can plan activities that take into account interests, values and traditions while avoiding ones that may lead to confusion and agitation.

For instance, many people celebrate Easter and enjoy watching children hunt for eggs. But to a person who has never celebrated Easter, associating a rabbit with eggs — and adding in a silly person dressed as a giant bunny — could very well seem odd and confusing.

The United Kingdom’s Alzheimer’s Society recommends families create life history books with their loved ones. Not only does this create an enriching activity for the family, but the book can later be used to inform anyone who may be caring for the individual.
 

While short-term memories are often lost early in Alzheimer’s disease, a person’s long-term memories and sense for who they are as a person can exist throughout the entire disease. Accessing their memories and embracing their reality and character is an important part of enriching the life of a person with dementia.

So while it may not be possible to ensure the person with dementia is always around people who understand them, it is possible to empower the caregivers by documenting the person’s story and sharing it.

Have you written your loved one’s story? Please share with us how you use it to improve their care.
 

Copyright© 2014 Next Avenue, a division of Twin Cities Public Television, Inc.

Front Porch is a not-for-profit support system for a family of companies that serve individuals and families through full-service retirement, active adult communities, and affordable housing communities.

 

More information is available at www.frontporch.net.