Memorial Day Weekend 2010
Mr. Dieball spoke eloquently of his inclusion on the recent honor flight to Washington DC to visit the monuments etc and receive so many cheers and warm wishes from the veteran-appreciators assembled where-ere they went, he on the arm of a solicitous guide. He softly declared with some modesty that he did complete the all the stair flights and walks, altho he had been offered a wheelchair. There were evident eye-dabbings as he spoke to the congregation.
John Helt opened the service with singing from the small rear balcony, leading the congregation in 'God Bless America' and then followed that with some of his not terribly-wavering trumpet solos in patriotic theme, then descended from the balcony and bore the American Flag in his arms down the center aisle to the stand at the side of the altar.
The names of the war dead were read by John from the pulpit, and veteran Arnold Dieball tolled the old church bell at each honored name. Many of the former St. Paulers' remains are interred in the carefully-tended cemetery in back of the church, where my friend and I strolled in silence after the service. (See earlier SRN posting: http://raccoonnews.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-want-cemetery-with-that.html)
Toward the end of the service, John took up his guitar and sang Woody Guthrie's THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND, THIS LAND IS MY LAND.....The congregation sang and clapped in time to the music. Ala http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxiMrvDbq3s
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Yesterday, we watched our first parade from the 3rd floor of the Putney Building, our new home. In honor of our Uncle Lee, we placed his oft-worn ceremonial American Legion hat on the masonry ledge of the window, in memory of him, and of my late father and his other two two now gone brothers, Maynard and Meredith. The four Dix men, they who all survived WW II. They were paid a tribute during the war years - from 1941 to 1945 - by our granddparents, their mother and father, who hung the small but proud banner with four stars on it in the window at 2009 Clay Street, Cedar Falls IA, proclaiming the sacrifice that was being made.
During the parade we saw the new mayor of Waukesha shaking hands with children and citizens as he extended his hand in all directions to any takers.
He wore a somber plain white shirt and ordinary necktie, AND plain shoes, as seems to befit the bulk of the electorate, who ousted his sometimes orange-clogged artful - and Democratic-leaning - predecessor.
Close behind strode a more flamboyantly-clad cardinal mascot accompanying the highly revered Waukesha Blackshirt marching band.
Note that on the other side of the cardinal mascot and the banner-bearers marched band director Sarah Wehmeier. (Lower right corner, wearing the black shirt, behind the white streetlight globe.)
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On the down side of the weekend, the honeymoon is over at the Putney Building for us, at least tempoarily. Although we have requested more than once that the ledge air-conditioner be installed, the management did not get it in as they had hoped.
Waukesha has had unseasonably hot weather, and we have sweated it out accordingly. When we took the lease here we had been told that contrary to the original announcement by the agent, there was indeed no central air. There had been central air, but it was broken and was unrepairable. (Old bldg) They would, however, furnish a window unit for us, for a fee. We loved the architecture of the dwelling so much that we rationalized that we could augment such a solitary window machine with fans during the really hot spells.
That eventuality will happen soon, we hope. Our plans presently are to spend the night in an air-conditioned motel nearby.
Meanwhile, we hydrate our old friend Mona out an antique crystal bowl of Grandma Ruth's that we cool with ice cubes. The thermometer read 92 degrees last night, unsleepable. Dee spread out on the love seat behind the temperature gauge, while an oscillating fan battled losingly trying to circulate the still air. 
Yesterday in the cemetery behind St. Pauls we photoed the grave of a member
and we'd received via Email this photo of our father's headstone in Arlington National Cemetery taken by a visiting friend Saturday. Brother Les said that next time he visits from his home in Johnstown PA he will take some cleaning materials and spiff up the marker.
