An account of our family’s gathering in Goshen during April 29-May 4, 2009:

On Tuesday, April 28, Mark began his road trip from Bayside, arriving at Greencroft in time on Wednesday to visit that afternoon. Thursday, Bruce arrived at the Indianapolis Airport where Mark had driven down to meet him and they made their way back to Goshen to be with Mom and Dad late afternoon and evening. That was another day of a lot of driving for Mark, but Bruce helped with it. I understood they made their way out of Indianapolis with only a minor and pleasant detour arising from an understandable lapse of attention that can happen with the freshness of such reunions. Friday, after a breakfast at the County Seat Café where Bruce could be seen enjoying four eggs on white toast, he and Mark began a busy day by helping Dad try on his slacks to determine what fit and what needed to be replaced. They subsequently went to the Concord Mall with Mom to shop for various items, including new slacks for Dad and were successful. Because of Mom’s circulation problems and leg fracture that was not fully healed, they used a wheel chair for her in the mall. Things were clearly off to a great start.

I arrived in Goshen Saturday morning in time to see everyone before lunch. I was pleased to see Dad looking more upbeat and smiling than during my last visit in March with Frank. Bruce and Mark had already worked wonders in his outlook. (The Winter and early Spring had been hard on the folks. Flu had raged through Greencroft, leaving them both weak, unable to see each other for extended periods of time, and leaving Mom with a lingering digestive ailment—not to mention her poor mobility and great discomfort from the leg fracture.) For lunch Mark dined with Mom at Evergreen Place and Bruce and I joined Dad in the Gables’ sun room where a special table was set up for us because of the crowded dining room that day. The arrangement worked very well because we were able to get Dad to talk during that hour and he heard us quite well without the usual distractions of surrounding conversations.

After lunch while Mom and Dad napped, Mark, Bruce, and I went over to visit Aunt Marjorie (now 90 years old) in her independent living apartment close by. She treated us with great affection and delight. She was pleased with the large loaf of home made bread I brought along and immediately called her daughter, Shelby. Shelby had already been there for some time and had left just shortly before and changed into her lawn mowing clothes, but Marjorie insisted she must come over right away to see us. Shelby was a bit embarrassed about not being more dressed up for the occasion, as if we would be able to notice that, and arrived soon for a most pleasant hour together. It gave us a chance to more personally thank her and Marjorie for their family’s help with Mom when she had fallen and gone to the hospital in considerable pain. Roy and Sharon (her daughter) had spent a number of hours with Mom afterward and on several follow-up visits, without which the couple of days after the fall would have been even more miserable. We returned to the hotel for coffee and to consider alternatives for where to dine out with Mom and Dad that night. Frank arrived mid-afternoon to a warm welcome which included more fresh coffee. We decided on Das Dutchman Essenhaus for the evening meal, a long-standing, very large and popular comfort food dining spot near Middlebury which afforded the opportunity of a nice drive through quaint Amish land. Earlier in the day, we had sensed that Dad was in good spirits and up for the adventure, surrounded by able-bodied sons. Mom of course has long since arrived at the point where she is ready for a dining change, too.

Mark suggested splitting the group into two vehicles for the outing. It allowed more comfort and better one-on-one conversation. It was fascinating to see what kinds of things Mom and Dad could recall regarding certain landmarks and experiences (e.g., a corner Dad remembered where there was always a barking dog they encountered on their bike trips.) We were able to get a good table for six and enjoyed entrees such as fried chicken, fish, ham steak, and vegetarian for Mom. Dad had difficulty with the menu so I helped him talk it through and the selections were made easily enough once he discovered ham was on the menu. We enjoyed a full hour or more there before returning home using another route, driving slowly to enjoy the ornamental blossoms. For the return trip, Bruce and Frank exchanged places in the vehicles to give Dad a change of conversation. I brought up the question of whether Dad remembered the good home made ice cream shop in Middlebury, and yes, he had. By that time however, we were well past it and close to Goshen. I made a note to get them there at the next opportunity. It’s called Vic’s Ice Cream and is located at 422 S. Main Street (574-825-2565, answers as Mancino’s—an Italian chain pizzeria that’s associated with it), open 11am-9pm every day in the summer, and is one of the oldest ice cream businesses that recognizably remains in Elkhart County, having begun in 1932. Refer to the attached link for an Elkhart Truth article late last summer attesting to the high quality of their products. https://www.etruth.com/Know/News/Story.aspx?ID=459978 With the evident success of that outing, we laid plans at the hotel for another the next morning, Sunday, which Mark recommended should occur after listening to church together with Mom and Dad in her apartment. That night, we enjoyed some relaxation in the Hampton Inn’s hot whirlpool and much more time together in one of our rooms before retiring.

Sunday morning, (and I could hardly believe this—it was necessary for me to rouse the youngsters up out of bed in time for breakfast before church!) we sleepily headed down town to Tony’s Grill www.tonysfamousgrill.com/contact.html for a good breakfast and lots of coffee. Evan and Jan may want to check out the menu at this link in light of their upcoming trip later in May-early June to Goshen. It’s located on N. 5th Street, just a few store fronts east of the Provident Book Store, in the old building that once housed a Shwinn bicycle shop. It provides the only real option to Bob Evans for breakfast on Sundays, being closer than the Waterford Mill restaurant.

Arriving with Dad at Mom’s apartment, we soon discovered the TV signal for the church service was out and it remained so for a considerable time during the broadcast. I called and learned that yes, Greencroft was aware of this. Mom indicated it is not a very unusual occurrence at Greencroft and one could hear quiet comments from various sons expressing their wonderment at this, regardless of whether or not it was free and run by volunteers. When a connection was finally established, Mom soon figured out it was only broadcasting the previous Sunday’s service which they of course had previously viewed. Rather than trying to listen on the radio, she suggested we simply skip it this time and begin our outing—to which Bruce assented by being the first one out of his chair.

We began by driving, again in two vehicles, to Martin Manor where the family had lived a mile or two south of the college from late 1956 to 1961-62 as I recall, and stopped behind that neighborhood in the Violet Cemetery to see their grave marker (which included the names of each son) and that of Carl and Evelyn Kreider’s next to theirs. One could still look across the field to the back of our former home from there. Doing so triggered more memories and was more good mental exercise for Dad. Mother was able to get out of the car and ambulate to the site with her walker. Dad remained in the car with Frank since the grass seemed too high and the ground too rough for him to cope with. From there, we proceeded to drive past the College Cabin which faces the Elkhart River dam, and then drove along to the dam, itself, where we were able to park close enough to the river bank above the dam to allow Dad to use his walker to gain a nice seat with Mom on the park bench which looked out over the reservoir in the bright sun. I loaned Dad my wrap-around sun glasses. When the folks were seated with Dad’s arm behind Mom, she happily recalled it was the place where she got her first kiss from Dad. A picture of the re-enactment of that is included below. Mom recalled that she learned soon afterward Dad had mentioned it (my note: bragged?—possibly so, as she was a beautiful woman at that time of her life) at his dormitory, so that everyone then soon knew of it. Of course, Dad was not in a position to talk about or dispute that memory and likely soon forgot the slight embarrassment it may have caused. We spent a nice long time there (20 minutes or so) soaking up the clear-day view of the sky and water, and enjoying the comfortable warmth of the approaching noon. Satisfied that the folks were well settled on the cozy bench with Frank to talk to and Mark taking pictures, Bruce and I stole away to the area below the dam for a few moments to watch the most impressive overflow of water. There had been a great deal of rain that week. Mark soon found us with his camera to record the occasion, which resulted in one of my favorite pictures.

Leaving the dam, Mark followed me as I led the way to the college’s small parking lot between the student center (old snack shop) and former library building. Dad was happy to get out and was able to walk over to a sitting pavilion (not sure what that structure is really called, but it was donated by the Class of ’38—Aunt Elda’s) where the surrounding campus, in full flower, could be gazed upon. Dad seemed to know where he was. As I looked behind him toward the former Fine Arts Building, I thought of the many Tuesdays and Thursdays when Mark and I went there after high school was over for College Orchestra practices, being needed for the string section in spite of our young age. It was also the building where we took our Saturday morning violin lessons in Lon Sherer’s office, looking out over the very spot where we were sitting. Lon was a compassionate teacher and excellent violinist who did what he could with us. Fortunately, I was able to think of the need to get pictures of Mark from our visit and enjoyed using his camera for that. Since none of the rest of us had brought ours he had been doing all of the shooting.

Upon arriving back at Evergreen Place, we briefly rested and refreshed ourselves before dining together downstairs. Having seen most of us wrestle with the troublesome foot rest features of the borrowed wheel chair, which included Bruce’s most determined efforts to put it right (thumping was heard at times), I made a note to get a new dedicated chair for Dad’s future use. In arriving at the dining room, the other residents were very interested to see Dad with Mom again and with four sons. Eyes were on our backs. We spoke to several who stopped by to note and honor the special occasion. Following dinner, we visited a bit in Mom’s apartment after which it was difficult for Dad to leave to return to his room in Nursing. He noted Mom’s place was a real home and said that he really missed that and missed being there with her. A tender moment followed.

After reassurances with Dad that we would see him again afterwards (Dad always sought them, wanting to be sure he knew what would unfold and that he could still be happy that it was not yet coming to an end) and during their afternoon naps, we took a leisurely walk across the college campus with a view to visiting the new Souder music / arts center complex. Mark was pleased to be able, for the first time, to look in briefly at the auditorium and to see also the magnificent organ in the special chapel nearby. A student art contest exhibit was underway and I took a few moments to catch up with my friend there, John Blosser, who is an art prof and was in charge of the event. If I recall right, Alyssa may have been taught by him when she took a class in the Art Building.

We returned to the Hampton Inn for fresh coffee, during which time Mark demonstrated the process for making blog comments and actual blog entries, renewed his fruitless appeals that we consider making entries, and then he and Bruce demonstrated how to play online poker (with “play money”, of course.). The games moved very rapidly and it gave Frank and me a sense of their highly developed skill and the experience they have when joining a virtual table together. It was soon time to pick up Dad for a final meal together at Evergreen Place, Sunday supper, after which Frank I said our good-byes to all and departed.

I believe Mark and Bruce saw Mom and Dad a final time Monday morning, before heading to Indianapolis where Mark dropped Bruce off at the airport and continued his road trip the rest of the day until stopping for the night near Pittsburg. He was able to complete his trip back to Bayside by early mid-afternoon Tuesday.

I have no doubt mistaken some details here and left out others that would be important for some of us to see. I welcome comments to this entry to correct that. Mom and Dad are most eagerly anticipating Evan and Jan’s visit late in May.