When I was a young mother with little children, housework, a few piano lessons, etc, I received a jury duty notice in the mailbox. I had only heard about the importance of jury duty, but never been summoned. My immaturity showed as I immediately thought of all the reasons it would be an inconvenience to take the day away from my "important" routine. I did go down to the courthouse on that prescribed day, however - armed with a defense plan of why someone else would be a better choice.
I was successful at encouraging them to pass me by.
My Father in Law happened to be in town soon after and overheard my boasting.
Here is a man who was career military in the National Guard. He spent his early fatherhood years away from his family, to defend our country in the bloodshed at Iwo Jima And I will probably never stop meeting people who rave about C.B. Clawson being their scout master. His life was all about serving his fellow men.
In a gentle voice and without criticism, he looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes and a forgiving smile. . . I knew I was in for a heart to heart.
"You know, Jody, being ask to serve on a jury is a privilege. It's one of the most important things you can do as a citizen of this free country to encourage liberty and justice."
It was true. Up until then, I took that invitation to serve lightly, but he helped me understand that because of others' service, my life was rich. And if others can serve for me, the least I can do is honor a small request to serve on jury duty.
This year is another important year - 2012 Presidential Elections. We have had some enlightening conversations here at home, as our children listen, with concern and interest, to the candidates and then to each other in a respectful way. (Thank - you kids!)
Like Grandpa Clawson's lesson, voting is right up there with jury duty. It seems like a small thing, but it is huge. It is a privilege and it is the least we can do towards bettering our lives here. Because of Grandpa Clawson, my heart will swell with thanksgiving as I take voting seriously. My safeguard comes from knowing the facts and making a prayerful choice. Not just for our generation, but for many others to come.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Happily Ever After
Once upon a time, Eugene Walter Buehner met Joanne Neeley. They were both from Salt Lake, and like most young single "kids", after graduation from high school, became involved in work, military, more schooling, missions, and lots of socializing. The Sacra Dulce choir brought them together. It was a group of kids in the area that loved to sing. Mom had friends who knew Dad's friends and likewise. It was perfect.
They hadn't known each other that long when Dad was called on a mission to New Zealand in 1948. (He had spent some time before that in the military.) But it was enough time for Mom to seriously consider what life might be like if she waited. She continued in school at BYU and working. She did her share of dating, but always had Walt Buehner in the back of her mind. Her mother encouraged her to not make any relationship decisions until Walt got home.
Dad, in the meantime was having a life altering experience as he served and met so many wonderful Maori people. The field was white and they were ready. He served with people who have remained firm friends throughout his life.
Towards the two year mark of his mission, his Dad was involved in surveying the countryside, there. The church's population was growing and there was a need for chapels, etc. Otto Buehner (his Dad) also had access to block making machinery. David O. McKay made arrangements to have Otto organize building needs in New Zealand, teaching the Maori people how to work the equipment, so they could provide for themselves. Dad just happened to be there and was a perfect fit, because he had run the machinery in the past and could help teach. So the call was made to extend his mission.
The weeks turned into months and Dad kept busy. He did happen upon a man who sold single diamonds. He would shake them out of bags and show them off to interested investors. When the timing was right, Dad was interested. He bought a diamond, and took the man's advice to have it temporarily mounted to a tie pin, to be worn back to the states, to avoid paying customs. An Elder, returning to Salt Lake wore the tie pin home and connected with Otto to pass it onto him. Otto knew a jeweler from Germany, downtown (Burndt Jewelers) and carried off a special assignment for the diamond.
A phone call was made to Mom one afternoon. It was Janice Buehner, Dad's sister. She and Mom had become good friends while Dad was away. She extended a dinner invitation to Mom for that night. Her work was right up the street from the block plant, so if she walked to the plant after work, Otto would take her to their home for dinner. She wasn't dressed in her best, but as usual, dinner was beautiful. They talked and visited and after the meal, a corsage box was handed to her across the table. Mom looked around to see if anyone else was given a corsage. She opened it to find a lei and a small ring box inside. An engagement ring.
One month shy of Dad's being out for 3 years (1951), he was released to come home. Mom was waiting. A wedding was planned and they were married within months. Sealed in the Salt Lake Temple by Matthew Cowley on September 13, 1951.
Dad tells the story of their reception day (the day after), when he again made a quick stop to Burndt Jewelers. He was picking up a cameo necklace he had made for Mom (from New Zealand). He pulled up and double parked in front of the store. He would be there for only a minute. Stepping out from the jeweler, a policeman was standing with one foot on Dad's bumper, writing out a ticket. Dad caught him and tried to explain. The policeman informed him that not only was he illegally parked, but his tags were expired. He ask Dad for his license and Dad realized he had run off without his wallet. About that time, Dad began to plead, trying to help the policeman understand that he had just been married yesterday and this was a quick stop before his reception that night and. . .
Before he could finish, the policeman clapped his book shut and walked off, without a blink of an eye.
They hadn't known each other that long when Dad was called on a mission to New Zealand in 1948. (He had spent some time before that in the military.) But it was enough time for Mom to seriously consider what life might be like if she waited. She continued in school at BYU and working. She did her share of dating, but always had Walt Buehner in the back of her mind. Her mother encouraged her to not make any relationship decisions until Walt got home.
Dad, in the meantime was having a life altering experience as he served and met so many wonderful Maori people. The field was white and they were ready. He served with people who have remained firm friends throughout his life.
Towards the two year mark of his mission, his Dad was involved in surveying the countryside, there. The church's population was growing and there was a need for chapels, etc. Otto Buehner (his Dad) also had access to block making machinery. David O. McKay made arrangements to have Otto organize building needs in New Zealand, teaching the Maori people how to work the equipment, so they could provide for themselves. Dad just happened to be there and was a perfect fit, because he had run the machinery in the past and could help teach. So the call was made to extend his mission.
The weeks turned into months and Dad kept busy. He did happen upon a man who sold single diamonds. He would shake them out of bags and show them off to interested investors. When the timing was right, Dad was interested. He bought a diamond, and took the man's advice to have it temporarily mounted to a tie pin, to be worn back to the states, to avoid paying customs. An Elder, returning to Salt Lake wore the tie pin home and connected with Otto to pass it onto him. Otto knew a jeweler from Germany, downtown (Burndt Jewelers) and carried off a special assignment for the diamond.
A phone call was made to Mom one afternoon. It was Janice Buehner, Dad's sister. She and Mom had become good friends while Dad was away. She extended a dinner invitation to Mom for that night. Her work was right up the street from the block plant, so if she walked to the plant after work, Otto would take her to their home for dinner. She wasn't dressed in her best, but as usual, dinner was beautiful. They talked and visited and after the meal, a corsage box was handed to her across the table. Mom looked around to see if anyone else was given a corsage. She opened it to find a lei and a small ring box inside. An engagement ring.
One month shy of Dad's being out for 3 years (1951), he was released to come home. Mom was waiting. A wedding was planned and they were married within months. Sealed in the Salt Lake Temple by Matthew Cowley on September 13, 1951.
Dad tells the story of their reception day (the day after), when he again made a quick stop to Burndt Jewelers. He was picking up a cameo necklace he had made for Mom (from New Zealand). He pulled up and double parked in front of the store. He would be there for only a minute. Stepping out from the jeweler, a policeman was standing with one foot on Dad's bumper, writing out a ticket. Dad caught him and tried to explain. The policeman informed him that not only was he illegally parked, but his tags were expired. He ask Dad for his license and Dad realized he had run off without his wallet. About that time, Dad began to plead, trying to help the policeman understand that he had just been married yesterday and this was a quick stop before his reception that night and. . .
Before he could finish, the policeman clapped his book shut and walked off, without a blink of an eye.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Happy Anniversary!
Over 2 weeks ago, Mom took a spill. On the steps. In her white dress. On her ankle. In the temple. In a hurry. On Jeff's birthday.
Every year, going to the temple in honor of Jeff has been a priority. Mom and Dad decided to go togetherthis year, during the day, away from crowds in the session and on the road. . . Now she wears a cumbersome walking book that can only be taken off once a week. She has a borrowed wheel chair and a hand- me-down shiny walker that fits only through prearranged wide openings of furniture. She is mostly comfortable in Dad's 2 AM chair with a pillow under her knee. The days go by slowly, except for a Dr. appointment last Friday that, upon arrival, she learned that it wasn't until Monday. She also loves visitors. Only 6 more weeks.
Last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary on September 13 (1951). Things around their house had been so crazy that it wasn't until the next day that Dad remembered. That only made him feel worse, since he already blamed himself for the hurry at the temple.
Last Thursday I went out to fix Mom's hair.. That seems to brighten her day. She feels and looks years younger again. Dad made sandwiches and soup. Then he disappeared. In a few minutes, we heard him call Mom to take a picture. (I thought he wanted a picture of them to send to a friend.) She got up and carefully shuffled towards the table in the patio room. She stepped in, and just like Cinderella at the ball, the room seemed to change as if they were the only ones there. That's when she noticed the beautiful white frosted cake with mounds of pink frosting flowers. It read," For My Love of 61 Years, Happy Anniversary". It sat perfectly in the center of the table. She made a fuss. He had set up a photo op with 2 chairs placed against the glass shelf in the corner She convinced him to let her do her eye brows and put on some lipstick first. He patiently waited. When she came back, he led her to the setting of chairs. Then he handed me his camera. I was to be sure to get the inscription on the cake. We also took photos of them together, and since it was their anniversary, we got some some of their sweet hands together.
Then, using Mom's stainless cake knife (the same one used for cutting their wedding cake 61 years ago), we ate cake. It was perfect timing to hear their engagement story again. And I felt privileged to be the reason to have a "party".
(Dad had had the cake for a few days, not wanting to overshadow other birthday celebrations)
Every year, going to the temple in honor of Jeff has been a priority. Mom and Dad decided to go togetherthis year, during the day, away from crowds in the session and on the road. . . Now she wears a cumbersome walking book that can only be taken off once a week. She has a borrowed wheel chair and a hand- me-down shiny walker that fits only through prearranged wide openings of furniture. She is mostly comfortable in Dad's 2 AM chair with a pillow under her knee. The days go by slowly, except for a Dr. appointment last Friday that, upon arrival, she learned that it wasn't until Monday. She also loves visitors. Only 6 more weeks.
Last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary on September 13 (1951). Things around their house had been so crazy that it wasn't until the next day that Dad remembered. That only made him feel worse, since he already blamed himself for the hurry at the temple.
Last Thursday I went out to fix Mom's hair.. That seems to brighten her day. She feels and looks years younger again. Dad made sandwiches and soup. Then he disappeared. In a few minutes, we heard him call Mom to take a picture. (I thought he wanted a picture of them to send to a friend.) She got up and carefully shuffled towards the table in the patio room. She stepped in, and just like Cinderella at the ball, the room seemed to change as if they were the only ones there. That's when she noticed the beautiful white frosted cake with mounds of pink frosting flowers. It read," For My Love of 61 Years, Happy Anniversary". It sat perfectly in the center of the table. She made a fuss. He had set up a photo op with 2 chairs placed against the glass shelf in the corner She convinced him to let her do her eye brows and put on some lipstick first. He patiently waited. When she came back, he led her to the setting of chairs. Then he handed me his camera. I was to be sure to get the inscription on the cake. We also took photos of them together, and since it was their anniversary, we got some some of their sweet hands together.
Then, using Mom's stainless cake knife (the same one used for cutting their wedding cake 61 years ago), we ate cake. It was perfect timing to hear their engagement story again. And I felt privileged to be the reason to have a "party".
(Dad had had the cake for a few days, not wanting to overshadow other birthday celebrations)
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
September 8
September 8, 1954
birthday of
Jeff Buehner
Jeff Buehner
I think of him a lot -
especially when I eat oatmeal.
He hated oatmeal.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
