[Magdalen] Little Michael visited by The Past.

[Jim Guthrie]

I just love stories like this -- old connection caught up and renewed.

Cheers,
Jim Guthrie

-----Original Message----- 
From: Jay Weigel 
Sent: Sunday, September 06, 2015 5:19 PM 
To: magdalen at herberthouse.org 
Subject: Re: [Magdalen] Little Michael visited by The Past. 

Blasts from the past are frequently great. I recently located and contacted
my college roommate. I kind of didn't expect to hear back from her, as at
the time we were roomies I was pretty difficult and not terribly likeable,
being very unhappy at the small college we were attending. But I got a nice
letter back from her. She did indeed become a music teacher, but her music
took her many places in addition (she had a wonderful pure soprano voice)
and she has sung in St. Peter's in Rome and St. Mark's in Venice. Her life
has taken fewer twists and turns than mine, but she seems happy with it.
She reminded me of a time when she was at my house in Madison and mentioned
to my mom that she was rolling out  piecrust with a beer bottle and mom
gave her a rolling pin, her extra one; she still has and uses it. That
quite delighted me as I had completely forgotten about it.

On Sun, Sep 6, 2015 at 4:52 PM, M J [Mike] Logsdon <mjl at ix.netcom.com>
wrote:

> I was piddling about the laundry room today when I saw a woman walking
> around carrying and studying a clipboard.  I didn't even bother to remember
> that a local school board election is upon us in November, so all I could
> think was Religious Freak.  But she was wearing ordinary weekend clothes,
> not the Mormon-JW-Holy-Roller attire.  As I pass her and walk toward my
> apartment, I was about to turn around and say "Yes?", when she beat me to
> it and asked if I was related to Kenny Logsdon the retired fireman.  I said
> "And who's asking?"  "Janet Barnes."  She didn't need to say more.  "Yes,
> Janet, I'm Little Michael.  You once gave a nine-year-old me a huge box of
> used stamps for my stamp collection."  The conversation blossomed from
> there.  She's running for elementary school board re-election (a
> contentious race; she survived a near-recall a couple years ago), but the
> joy was about how she is the daughter of the man who is the reason I live
> in Salinas.  In 1950, David Hamilton (her dad), Salinas painting
> contractor, hired my pop out of El Centro to come work for him, and work
> for him he did till 1969 when Dave died of lung cancer at 52 years of age.
> So devoted was Pop, that he did for Dave what he did just a few years later
> for his own brother, that being coming home from work each day, taking a
> bath, getting dressed in his Sunday best (which was always in optimal
> condition because he never went to church), and heading down to the
> hospital to sit by Dave's bedside till visiting hours were over.  Though
> only four years old, I still remember clearly one night Pop opening my
> bedroom door and saying "Dave died."  Though not family, Dave Hamilton was
> my first taste of death.
>
> Anyway, me and Janet had a grand ol' time sort of reminiscing (I was a
> toddler and she was a high schooler, after all), but she got a kick out of
> how I remembered visiting their home as a little kid and remembering the
> high school girl in her bedroom listening to her 45s (some of which I still
> own, believe it or don't), and especially remembering how her mother would
> throughout the ages periodically visit our home unannounced with her
> cats-eye glasses and holding her purse on her lap the whole time.  (The Old
> Lady only checked out a few years ago at 97.)
>
> Two children of modestly well-known Salinas families meeting up outside an
> apartment complex laundry room.  And yes, I always vote for her.
>