A Nice Place to Visit

Last week Sherry and I spent four days in New York City. It truly is "a nice place to visit." We travelled by train from Old Saybrook, Connecticut, visiting with Terry and her family before and after the trip to NYC. It is a point of honor for me to take a vacation without renting a car. We used only public transportation in NYC and getting there from Connecticut. (Not counting Terry taking us to and from the train station in her car.)

We arrived in NYC on Monday, Aug. 24, 2009. The first thing we did was visit the Cloisters, at the northern tip of Manhattan. http://www.metmuseum.org/Works_of_Art/the_cloisters

The Cloisters is in Fort Tryon Park, a green, woodsy refuge beside the Hudson River. We later learned that the forest in Fort Tryon Park is the only remaining natural forest in Manhattan. (The trees in Central Park were planted there.) Here is a view of the Hudson River from the park, as we walked from the 190th Street subway station to the Cloisters.

Click on each image to get an enlarged, and much higher resolution, version.

Another view of the park. That's the George Washington Bridge in the background. The Hudson River is barely visible through the trees.

Here is the Cloisters building. It's not really a reconstruction. It is a building built in the 1930's from medieval European parts. (See the web site for details.)

Here is Sherry at the entrance. It was surprisingly uncrowded when we were there. I didn't have to wait very long to get this shot with no other people in the picture.

We stayed in a hotel on 42nd Street between 7th and 8th Avenues, just off Times Square. Here is the view from our 23rd floor window.

I liked the contrast between the elegant old building in the foreground and the modern skyscraper behind it. The old building is the Times Square Building, home of The New York Times from 1913 until 2007. The modern skyscraper is One Astor Plaza, at Broadway and 45th Street. 54 stories, completed in 1972. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Astor_Plaza

Here is the obligatory shot of Times Square, Broadway at 42nd Street. New York City has banned automobiles from this stretch of Broadway, turning into a pedestrian mall.

On Wednesday we took a three hour cruise around Manhattan Island. Here is the Statue of Liberty from inside the boat. It was hotter in NYC than in Tampa that day (low 90s), and we wanted to stay inside, out of the sun, with air conditioning. Unfortunately, not conducive to good photos.

Midtown Manhattan, from the East River.

The pointed building in the background is the Chrysler Building, once the tallest structure in the world. In less than a year, it was surpassed by the Empire State Building, in height but not in beauty. Still a favorite photo shot for NYC tourists. There is a much better photo on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysler_Building

Ralph Turner 1919 - 2009

My father, Ralph Turner, died July 13, 2009, at the age of 90. My brother, Tim Turner, spoke at the funeral on Saturday, July 18, in Bradenton, Florida. Here is what he said:

Thank you for joining us today to celebrate the life of my Daddy, Ralph Turner. On behalf of the family, thank you for taking the time to join us. We appreciate your being here.

I’m sure that everyone here has a story or two based on their relationship with Daddy. My goal today is to share a few of the memories we have of him and perhaps a few things all of you might not have known about him.

Texas

Daddy was born in Kaufman, Texas in 1919. Growing up as a poor farm boy and during the depression was the metal from which he was formed. These things would define him as hard working, thrifty and appreciative of every meal. He was a handsome and strong youth, later playing football in high school and college. This was when real men played football with little in the way of padding and players played both offense and defense. It was said that he could lift a 100 pound anvil from his father’s workshop over his head with one hand. (We’re pretty sure this story is true.) He used to say that the way he would get stronger was to lift a calf over the fence several times a day. That way as the calf grew and got bigger, he got stronger. (This story, we’re not so sure about). One thing I do know, he was stronger and tougher than I will ever be.

Army

During World War II, Daddy was in the Army. Originally an enlisted man, he was Sergeant in the infantry but he was later elected to Officer Candidate School and commissioned as a lieutenant in 1942. He was later promoted to Captain, the rank at which he was discharged. During the war, he said that he literally walked across Europe and despite heavy fighting never received so much as a scratch although he had many close calls.

He loved to recount stories of his time in the army. One of the stories he often recounted was a battle on his 25th birthday. That day he ran down a stair case in the house they were taking cover in somewhere in Germany. Moments later, a mortar shell blasted through the exact spot he had been standing. He figured from that point on, all life was a blessing. I am particularly appreciative that that shell missed him as I wasn’t born until Daddy was 40 and 14 years after he returned from the war.

College

After returning from the war, Daddy took advantage of the GI bill and was the first in his family (and only one of his generation) to obtain a college degree. He graduated from Texas A&M and I’m not sure I ever met anyone prouder to be an Aggie. To hear him tell it, he wasn’t always the best of students, struggling in many subjects, but compared to the teen agers that hadn’t earned their way there, he worked harder and was determined to pass.

Daddy graduated with a bachelors in Agricultural Education and later received a Masters degree. As a teacher, went on to take continuing educational courses with over 40 hours additional credit. He instilled a “learning ethic” into our family that has resulted in my brother Rollins earning a PhD, myself earning masters degree and our families all successful in higher education. A legacy such as this is one of which I think he should be particularly proud.

Teaching

After graduating from college, Daddy spent most of his career as a teacher of science or agriculture. During his years in Albuquerque, he spent the majority teaching earth science and biology. I remember I used to cringe as a kid when I would meet someone that had had him as a teacher. Usually, they would tell me about what a tough or mean teacher he was. When I asked him about it, his answer was always that none of them had any problem if they just did their work. That integrity and the work ethic associated with it, nearly got him fired when his principal wanted him to pass a football star player that had not done his work. Daddy refused and told the principal that he would have to pass him if he wanted him to play. The principal compromised his integrity and passed the player, but didn’t fire Daddy.

I think he was a fair and demanding teacher, but I’m glad that it was Rollins that once had him for a class and not me.

I am proud of the legacy that he leaves on society as a teacher. He has made the world a better place, teaching literally 1,000’s of kids, instilling a work ethic, letting them know that the quality of their work did matter and I’m sure preparing them for success in their own lives.

42

One of Daddy’s greatest joys was playing the domino game “42”. For those of you that are not from Texas, 42 is a game with trumps and suits similar to hearts or spades played with cards. It was invented by two Texas Baptist boys whose parents wouldn’t allow them to play cards. Dominos were OK, but cards would lead them down the path to sin and gambling, so they came up with a “card substitute”.

42 is sort of like Bridge, but much simpler, it can be learned in an hour but takes years to master.

Daddy was a 42 ninja master.

He took no greater joy than in drawing a perfect hand, which he did with annoying regularity. Those of that were less skilled at the game were always amazed at his ability to win bids with seemingly worthless hands.

But Daddy didn’t always win. The nature of 42 is a randomness that could sometimes cause a person to continuously get bad hands, sometimes for an entire evening and in particularly dark times a losing streak could last for weeks. Not one to take this type of thing sitting down, Daddy would make us switch chairs to try and get his luck back.

A major aspect of 42, like most games, is social. Daddy enjoyed the company and camaraderie that went with playing 42 and could banter with the best of us. A typical exchange might go like this:

“It’s your bid, Tim.”
“I’m thinking, Daddy.”
“I thought I smelled something hot.”

No family gathering, whether in Texas, Albuquerque or Bradenton was ever complete without playing 42.

Fishing

Daddy was a fisherman. Maybe it was because he spent over 20 years living in the desert of New Mexico with the closest water being a 2-3 hour drive, but he loved to fish whether it was in a river, lake or ocean. When he retired from teaching in Albuquerque, it wasn’t long before he joined good friends Stokes and Merriam Goolsby here in the Bradenton area. You see, he had visited them a couple of times before retirement and saw that not only was the water much closer, but here there were actually fish that bite and you could catch a lot of them.

Some fishermen find joy in the sport by getting away from the hustle and bustle of daily life, a chance to slow down and relax. Some just enjoy being on the water, wetting a line, patiently waiting for the bite.

Daddy was not much in the way of patience, so I’m not sure fisherman is the right term. Maybe “catcherman” is a better term. He loved to “catch” fish. After moving to his house off Cortez road, he soon developed a habit of fishing from the bridge that connects Ana Maria and Longboat Key. He developed many friends there, but unlike most of them, if the fish weren’t biting, Daddy wouldn’t hang around. He’d go home, have coffee, take a nap, only to return a few hours later to try again. There were days he returned 3 times before he gave up in disgust. After all, he was there to catch fish, not just lose bait to the little fish under the bridge.

Daddy was a pretty good fisherman too. There were several years when he bought a commercial fishing license and supplemented his income by selling pompano to the local fish markets. In reality, he was pretty happy if he earned enough to repay the license cost and the cost of the bait, but no matter what, he was happy if he was fishing.

Family and Faith

One of Daddy’s hallmarks was his love for his family. Whether children, grandchildren or great-grandchildren, Daddy always made sure that we knew he loved us. I’ve heard many stories of men who regretted not communicating with their fathers, often losing them to death before they could reconcile and tell them that they really did love them and whatever conflict they had was unimportant. I never had to worry about this as every time we talked he would tell me he loved me. He would usually end a conversation by instructing whoever he was talking to to “let the rest of them know that he loves them”.

Daddy was also a man of faith. He accepted Christ at a revival tent meeting outside of Kaufman as a boy probably about the age of my son Noah. He said that the preacher told them about hell and he knew for sure he didn’t want to go there. Daddy’s blessings on dinner never changed, but they were an important part of the process of dinner at our house. I was always pleased when he visited at our house. When Daddy said the blessing instead of me, the world was right and I didn’t have to be the grown up. While Daddy was not overt or aggressive about his faith, I knew it was strong and this was confirmed when we talked about it. He lived it out every day in the way he loved and treated others.

Only a few years ago, Daddy told me a story about my childhood. He said there was a time when I was about 1 year old when I was very sick and the doctor thought I had leukemia. The tests indicated this, but the doctor sent my parents home because some test had to be rerun or couldn’t be run until the next day. Daddy said that he and mommy went up the mountain foothills and while I played in the dirt they prayed for my healing. He promised God that if I survived, he would support me in anything I wanted to do and be there for me all the time (this is in contrast to his own father who never attended a single football game that Daddy played in). Mommy and Daddy were convinced that my presence here was a miracle. Even if it was just a test error, I do know that my father made good on his promise to God to be there for me and I also know that God has made good on his promise to him for eternal life.

Finally, before I wrap up, I want to take a moment to say Thank You. On behalf of Daddy and my family, I want to say thank you to my brother Rollins, his wife Sherry and his son Michael. Daddy has lived with them for the last 3 or 4 years starting at the time when he could no longer safely care for himself. During this time they have had four generations living together as a family. This is a special privilege that most families today don’t enjoy. Most families today would not suffer the inconvenience or sacrifice their own time and ambitions to care for an elderly parent. I know that it has been a sacrifice; I know that it has been difficult and stressful. Daddy has been blessed by your love and caring. Thank you, because I appreciate what you’ve done for Daddy and I know that he appreciated it even when he didn’t say so.

Today we have a major hole in the physical presence of our family, but that hole will never be empty in our heart. Our children may not realize the impact Daddy has had on their life, as much of who he is has been passed on and filtered by Rollins and myself. However, his life is indelibly etched on to theirs. Who they are today, how they think, how they live, how they love, what they believe has been influenced by the life and love of Ralph Turner. I can only hope that my own legacy is as great as his.

More Bullets

Cian: I've got more bullets!

Michael: Yes, I bought you some more.

Cian: Thanks, Dad!

Cian, at age five, is getting seriously into World of Warcraft!

Daddy Comes Home

We brought Daddy home from the nursing home today. He was taken in on a stretcher back at the beginning of February, after nearly a week in St. Joseph's Hospital. Today he walked out using his walker.

They had a little going home ceremony for him in the nursing home lobby, with his caregivers and us. It was a happy, teary, occasion as they sang "For he's a jolly good fellow" and said good-bye. Here he is with a shirt that they gave him. The inscription (illegible in the picture) says "Property of Palm Garden Nursing Home XXL".


We have all heard horror stories about nursing homes. Our experience at Palm Garden was just the opposite. It was wonderful to have caregivers who really cared.

Sonya, the speech therapist at Palm Garden, literally gave Daddy his life back. When we took him in, we thought he would never be able to swallow again, and that he would be in the nursing home for the rest of his life. Using VitalStim therapy she was able to get him to swallow the first day. The VitalStim therapy uses electodes similar to those used for an EKG attached to the patient's throat. The VitalStim device stimulates the swallowing muscles with synchronized electrical pulses. The therapy not only permits the patient to swallow with the assistance of the device, but also retrains the muscles so that they can work without the device. Within two weeks Daddy was eating soft foods on his own. His diet now is still restricted, but fairly close to normal.

Evie doesn't want my mother to have calcium

As I walked back to my house after running this morning, I noticed a tighly folded piece of paper on the ground in front of the mailbox. Typically these things are advertisements for lawn service. I picked it up and looked at it. Not an advertisement. At least I don't think so. It started out "Evie doesn't want my mother to have calcium."

Click on the image to get a more readable version.

A little later, Michal came over for lunch. Sherry was away, and I was cooking a nice Sunday brunch for of us guys. Bacon and eggs, hash browns, toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice. Plus fresh brewed coffee. Michael says, "Look at this wierd note I found next door."


After brunch we walk back to Michael's house. We are wondering if this is something that we should report to the police. The notes don't make any threats, except to the writer, but they are obviously the work of a deranged person. It's a bit creepy to think of someone like this walking around our neighborhood, distributing literature.

One of Michael's neighbors is a police officer. He has two young sons that Cian sometimes visits and plays with. They were out on their driveway washing a car (playing with a hose) as we returned to Michael's house. We decide to talk to him and get his advice about what, if anything, we should do.

There is no threat. No crime has been committed, other than possibly littering. It's not really a matter for the police. But, still, he recommends that we report it. Let the police know about it and get it into their records.

Michael and I decide to look around and see if there are more notes. We find a couple that are duplicates of the ones we have seen. Then, in front of a house three doors down from Michael's I spot a packet. It is a small stack of notes, wrapped in plastic cling wrap and taped up.

A bit later I walk around the block that I live on, and find more notes. I found a total of six copies of the first note and ten copies of the second one. Plus another packet on the lawn of a house on my street.

I call the sheriff's nonemergency complaint number and describe the notes. The dispatcher says that she will send out a deputy.

I open one of the packets. It holds a stack of notes, most with only a small amount of text, and one full page wrapped around a DVD.
Here are the notes. These are scanned images of the actual notes.















Here is the full page note that was wrapped around the DVD. I have divided the full page of typing over two jpg files. Click on the images to get a more readable copy.



I take the DVD to Michael's house in order to play it. It is audio only. Rambling of the same general ilk as the writing, mixed with recorded music. A female singer. Evie I presume. We didn't listen to anywhere near all of it. Michael skipped forward and we just listened to a few samples. They all seemed pretty much the same. Interestingly, the speech is calm and clear. Not at all a rant.

Later, back at my house. The deputy arrives. Checks out the notes. Her reaction is what I expected. "There is nothing I can do." No crime. No threat. It is not illegal to be crazy. She did say that she would put a note into their records about it. If we actually see someone distributing these notes, give them a call. They will send out a specialist, not to arrest the guy, but to talk to him. Try to convince him to voluntarily seek treatment. I guess they see cases like this all the time, but it was a first for me.

Harmonic Convergence

As we watched the financial world as we know it collapse this past week, a remarkable number of good things happened in my own world. Little things, but good. It brought to mind the harmonic convergence.

I remembered the harmonic convergence as having something to do with the planets being aligned. Something that happens only rarely, as the various planets circle the sun according to their own orbits and velocities. I visualized it in terms of sine waves of various frequencies.

Ever so often the various peaks align, and we have a really good day or week. Of course it works the other way as well. We all know the feeling of one bad thing leading to another. This is what happens when the troughs align. But this week was a good one.

I googled "harmonic convergence" and found that the term really applies to a New Agey event back in 1987. The planets being aligned seems to have been almost incidental. But the term has been picked up and used in numerous ways since then. So I feel OK about using it here.

A number of annoying little things had been going wrong for me in the past month. I couldn't find my reading glasses. A frequent problem, but usually temporary. This time they were staying lost. Two pairs, actually. Prescription reading glasses, which I normally use when I can find them, and a cheap pair of nonprescription reading glasses that I keep as back up. I was just about ready to go back to Walmart and order a new pair. (Something I had done once before.)

Our router had stopped working. We had a thunderstorm week before last, and the router has not worked since. We could plug either computer directly into the cable modem and it could access the Internet. We could plug both computers and the printer into the router, and both computers could print, but neither could access the Internet. Looks like the uplink port on the router is broken. We have a spare router, but I was not looking forward to setting it up and trying to get everything to work again.

Shortly after getting a rebuilt engine for the truck, the truck had just about stopped running. On cool damp mornings, it was very rough and had almost no power. I took it back to the shop that replaced the engine and explained the problem. The problem is a difficult one, because the truck runs more or less OK when it is warm.

This week, just as I was beginning to dispair of my trusted local mechanic ever getting it fixed, and was about to give up and look for another mechanic, I got the word that it was ready. Really ready. It had been "almost" ready multiple times, and something new had always come up. I picked it up, and it ran pretty well. I was pleased.

And then there was the garage door problem. A week ago, the garage door stopped going down properly. If would go up fine. But when you pushed the button to make it go down, it would start down and then immediately stop. Fortunately, it would go down if you held the button down. But this trick only works on the wired switch inside the garage. Using the remote control in a car, you could raise the door but you couldn't lower it. Which means that when you go somewhere in the car that is kept in the garage, you open the door, back the car out of the garage, then get out of the car, go inside, lower the door with the wired switch, then go back out to the car and now you can actually go somewhere.

We had seen this problem several times before. It was always associated with the sensor that detects obstacles blocking the door. A light beam goes across the door opening near the floor and hits a sensor on the opposite side. When anything blocks the beam, the door won't go down. Usually the problem is that some piece of garage junk has gotten too close to the door. The other cause is that a wire has come loose on either the light source or the sensor. Neither of these turned out to be the case this time. I was about ready to call the garage door guy to come out an fix it. Then, on Thursday, it simply started working again. I swear that I didn't do anything to it. It just started working. I have no idea what was wrong or what happened to fix it.

There was a similar problem with the water cooler. Same week. I filled a cup from the hot water dispenser to make tea, and the hot water turned out to be just luke warm. And then Sherry noticed water on the table that the cooler sits on. And then a puddle on the floor below it. Clearly something was wrong with the machine. This is when you are glad the machine is rented. Sherry called up the water people and they brought out a replacement the next day. But it turned out to be the wrong model. No hot water dispenser. The water guy was fairly sure that the water than had leaked out onto the tabletop and the floor was due to a crack in the bottle, or a tiny hole that we couldn't see. He gave us a free replacement bottle and said that he would be back Friday with the right machine.

Meanwhile the cordless telephone that sits beside the water dispenser has stopped working. Acts like the battery won't hold a charge. Probably needs a new battery.

But wait! The telephone plugs into the same electrical outlet as the water dispenser. No power in the telephone. No hot water from the water dispenser. Could this be a coincidence? Maybe the real problem is the power outlet. Sherry starts preparing me for electrical work.

On Thursday the water guy returns with another dispenser and is preparing to set it up. Sherry discusses the power problems. Maybe there was nothing wrong with the water dispenser. The water guy says not to worry about it. They really should take the machines back for service every few years anyway. That one had been here four years. They check the electrical outlet. Sure enough, no power. Then they check the other outlet at the opposite end of the counter, where the toaster is plugged in. The toaster doesn't work either.

Then Sherry notices a little red button on the outlet where the toaster is plugged in. This outlet has a ground fault circuit interrupter (GFCI). Standard practice in recent decades for outlets in the vicinity of water. The GFCI had popped for some reason. It's similar to a circuit breaker. Push the red button and the outlet starts to work again. The outlet that the water dispenser was plugged into doesn't have a GFCI, but it is undoubtedly on the same circuit as the toaster outlet. So with the GFCI reset, both outlets start working again. We don't know what caused the original problem. Perhaps it was connected with the water leak. But both outlets are OK now, with no cost and no repair work. The phone starts working again, and the water dispenser again provides hot water.

Meanwhile on Thursday I am closing in on a weeklong problem at work. I needed a key to a storage room near one of the classrooms in which I teach. The classroom is in BSN, the Business Administration Building, about a quarter of a mile across campus from my office in Engineering. We want to keep a cart full of laptop computers there near the classroom as an alternative to pushing the cart back and forth between my office and the classroom. I had gotten permission to use the storage room. Just needed a key. At USF, all keys are issued by the Buildings and Grounds people, and new keys have to be made in their key shop. A key had been requested a week before, but I had heard nothing from the key people. I had called the key shop toward the end of the previous week and they had not received the request. I call the woman who is responsible for the storage room and she says that she has sent the request.

We have $20,000 worth of laptops languishing, mostly unused, for lack of a key. So on Thursday, I go to the key shop and confront the key guy in person. "Do you have the request?" He checks the computer. No sign of a key request for me. "Could it be in the mail?" He checks the day's mail, still unsorted on the counter. No request. But what about yesterday's mail? Also, still unsorted. Rummages around in a pile of paper. Aha! There it is. "Could you please expidite this request? I have work being held up until I get this key." (Which is true.) He agrees. But he doesn't seem enthusiastic.

Friday is a good day. After my 10:45 class, I find my prescription reading glasses on the table beside the podium. They had probably been there for the last three weeks.

I wait until 4:00 PM and then go back to the key shop, hoping to be able to pick up the key. But the key key guy isn't there. He is out picking up the mail from the post office. The assistant asks me to have a seat. He will be back soon. Fortunately I have brought a book.

The key guy returns after about ten minutes. He remembers me from yesterday. Checks on the computer. The job is started, but not yet finished. I take that to mean that they have entered the order into their computer system, but have not made the key. I ask him if he can finish the job while I wait. He agrees. It takes all of two minutes to make the key. I return to my office with the precious key in my pocket.

Before pushing the laptop cart over to BSN, I walk over and test the key. Amazingly, it works. With the help of my TA, who has been waiting for me to get the key, I push the cart over to BSN and lock the laptops up in the storage room. Monday we can start to issue them to students for my class. A major victory!

And it was a good week for running. Thursday, Michael and I ran our normal 3.1 mile loop in 29 minutes and 19 seconds. Best time in more than a year. It was a very nice cool morning. That undoubtedly helped. Then Saturday we ran our old six mile loop. Not fast, but at least we finished. First time we have done that in over a year also.

Today, Sunday, I replaced the router. It turned out to be no hassle. I found a spare that was identical to the one we had been using. Just plugged it in, hooked up the cables, and everything worked. And in the process of straightening up the cables I found my other reading glasses.

How could so many things go so well in the same week? Harmonic convergence? Just the periodic alignment of a bunch of sine waves, each running independently according to its own equation? I don't think so. I think Wall Street has sucked up all of the evil from the entire country.

Daddy Gets the Last Word

Monday Evening, Sept. 22, 2008
Sonny's Barbeque
Michael, Cian, Daddy, and I are having an early dinner. Sherry is out of town, and the guys are on their own for meals.

We order fried shrimp for Daddy, his favorite. But Sonny's servings are always much larger than what Daddy can eat. Usually we get a take home box, but tonight he is offering it to us.

Daddy: "If anyone wants some of this, they are welcome to it."

Rollins: "OK, we will help."

And we do. Michael didn't order a meal for Cian, with the intent of just letting him share. Cian gets a couple of Daddy's shrimp.

A few minutes pass.

D: "If anyone wants some of this, they are welcome to it."

R: "Yes, Daddy. We are taking some of it."

A few more minutes pass. Cian has eaten more of Daddy's shrip than Daddy has. Michael and I have helped a bit too.

D: "If anyone wants some of this, they are welcome to it."

R: "That's the third time you have said that, Daddy."

D: "I thought you might have forgotten."