Tag Archives: Oklahoma

The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 30

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 20,2026- Hana was glad to see me, when I stopped on the stairs,and looked down at her. She was in her highchair, eating her dinner, stopping to show me what was in her mouth. I just told her to chew it up well and continued to my bringing my bags upstairs and putting stuff away.

Later on, we went to a Korean restaurant, where we each enjoyed our favourites- mine was bibimbap. Hana was given several pieces of skinless, sliced grape, as she had already had dinner. Once done with those, she cast around the room, looking for whatever she might get her hands on, as well as being interested in the party behind her. When she fidgeted a bit too much, her father restrained her, which she found objectionable. Later, in the car going back, I admonished her from the front seat, to which she replied: “Papa said I am not to hit Daddy. Uh,uh,uh!” She was nice to him when we got back, and promptly fell asleep, after telling her mother that she didn’t want any more of her nightcap bottle.

My morning at the Baha’i Summer School had me thinking about how vibrant Hana will be, if she is carefully guided. The children and youth made colourful and insightful presentations, and a number of the children showed a joie de vivre that reflects her energy. This is a cut above children running about and being noisy. The Alpha and Beta generations are thinking things through and showing more group-oriented energy than I recall seeing in the two generations above them. Electronics still have their place, but their use is not as dominant as it was among children ten or twenty years ago.

HANA’s NOTE– I am glad Papa came back. He tells me if I am not being nice.

EXPANDING CIRCLES– Oklahoma: The Sooner State is about an hour and thirty minutes north of us, using US 75. The Turf- Oklahoma has three fairly rugged, if low, mountain ranges: The Wichita, in the southwest, the Ouachita, in the southeast and the Boston Mountains, in the east central region. Black Mesa, in the far northwest, is actually Oklahoma’s highest point, even as it is shared with Colorado and New Mexico. The central area of the state, and the northeast, around Tulsa, are largely plains and prairie. Oklahoma has six major rivers, flowing west to east: The Red River, along the border with Texas; the Washita, which flows into Lake Texoma; the Canadian; North Canadian; Cimarron; and Arkansas. These help with the state’s substantial agricultural output.

FIRST NATIONS: It’ well-known that Oklahoma was the relocation place for those nations which were displaced by the policies of Andrew Jackson and several presidents who came after him These included the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Delaware(Lenni Lenape) and Seminole. Later, the Iowa, Kaw, Kickapoo, Otoe, Ottawa, Pawnee, Peoria, Ponca, Pottawatomie, Quapaw, Sac and Fox, Seneca and Wyandotte were sent here, from other parts of the Midwest and Northeast. The Modoc were brought here, from California.

Often overlooked, though, are the nations which were already present in parts of Oklahoma, particularly in the lush and attractive riverlands. Apache, Arapaho, Cheyenne, Kiowa,Osage, Tonkawa and Wichita peoples were established across both “Indian Territory” and western Oklahoma, when the first people expelled from the east and southeast arrived. None of these nations, either indigenous or transplanted, were treated equitably or fairly, until relatively recently.

I’ve been to all parts of Oklahoma, except the southwest. I’d like to visit the areas around Lawton, Anadarko, Chickasha and Duncan, as well as hike a bit in the Wichita Mountains. My favourite hiking spots are Black Mesa, Roman Nose State Park, Gloss Mountain and Grand Lake o’ The Cherokees. The Ouachitas and Bostons would be nice to check out, along those lines.

I have made solemn visits to Oklahoma City and Tulsa, paying homage at the memorials to the 1995 Bombing victims and the Greenwood Massacre, respectively. There are other places of interest in both major cities, of course, and I would be happy to take them in, with my grandchild(ren). Enid was a happy place to visit, when a friend lived there. He has since moved away. I’ve also found interesting historical sites in Claremore, Ponca City and Tonkawa. Far flung places like Guymon, Henryetta, Moreland and Sallisaw have been comfortable venues to enjoy a hearty meal or spend the night. There is plenty left in Oklahoma to both re-visit and experience for the first time.

Where I feel most at home: Downtown Enid, Tonkawa, Grand Lake of the Cherokees

Where I feel most at peace: Black Mesa

NEXT- Arkansas

The Lion Roars Elsewhere

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 1, 2024- The sweet older lady carried her box filled with Bell jars out of the small health food convenience market, as I held the door. A few minutes later, as I approached the register with my small purchase, she burst back through the door, still holding her box of jars. As I hung back from the register, the lady told the cashier about her morning. She had encountered a couple, in her gated community, who were going about the neighbourhood, visiting shut-ins and offering Holy Communion wafers to them. When she encountered the couple again, at a local fast food restaurant, she bought them lunch. That was a story worth waiting for!

The old saw states: “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” Lamb-like weather is here for a few days, whilst in the Panhandle region of north Texas and northwest Oklahoma, a furious spate of wildfires, tempered briefly by a wimpy snow squall, has sundered about five communities, leaving wreckage reminiscent of Paradise, CA and Lahaina, HI in their wake. Whether we look at this still extant destruction and blame climate change or over-development- or a mix of the two, the scenes are heartbreaking. No amount of blame can restore what has been lost. Only resolve, and united action, can bring about recovery.

The same is true, for entirely different reasons, as a lion of a different sort roars in Gaza. No matter one’s politics, or religious persuasion, the slaughter of innocents arising from the wanton disregard, by two armies, for human life cannot pass without condemnation. Both armies should stand down-and let both Jewish and Arab people find a common path to resilience. At this point, it doesn’t matter who started it. No community on Earth deserves to be destroyed by the rapacity of others.

This evening, I made my way down to Raven Cafe, for another great performance by local favourites, Scandalous Hands. There was no room to sit, initially, yet as luck would have it, a couple vacated their table, just as I was getting a cup of coffee from the self-service urn. I moved towards the table and spotted another couple who seemed to want to sit. We agreed to share the table, and it turned out they were first time visitors to Prescott. I would have gladly shared the table, anyway, but first impressions matter. They greatly enjoyed Scandalous’ music, and even got up to dance a few times. I gave them a few pointers for activities and music venues, over the next two days they are here, and some other information about the Southwest, as this is their first time in the region.

March is off to a benign start here, though it would only take an errant spark and a gust of wind, to turn the tables. My prayers and positive thoughts, for Texas, Oklahoma, Gaza and so many other places which don’t have the calmness, the serenity or even the festive mood that Prescott enjoys, as March begins.

Day of Rage and Remembrance

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Posted by on in collaborating, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

June 19, 2019, Joplin MO-

The title refers to August 10, 1861, and I will elaborate, momentarily.  My Juneteenth began in Amarillo, with three surly drivers edging towards road rage, within a span of an hour.  The first one zipped around the corner and found me in his way, so the horn blew and the fist was pumpin’.  I got off the road and waited a bit.  Then there was the woman who was off-kilter because I went straight when there was no “left turn only” indicator.  Still no harm, no foul.  Finally, after my Planet Fitness workout, across town, I was screamed at, for driving across a parking lot and not stopping at each point where the road intersects with said lot.  This is, apparently, an Amarillo thing. (In Arizona, every parking lot intersection has a STOP sign. We must be spoiled.)

With all that, I left the city behind, and waltzed on over to Shamrock (See Ernest Tubb’s “Waltz Across Texas”).  There is a place there, called Big Vern’s Steak House.  Aram and I had lunch there, in 2011.  Vern no longer opens for lunch, so after looking around and asking the kind cross street neighbour as to whether Vern was okay (He is; he just opens for dinner only, is all.), I checked out a place called Rusty’s.  The perky owner told me she wouldn’t be open for another week or so, but if I went north a piece, I’d find a nice little place called Mesquite Canyon Steak House.  I did, and it filled the lunch bill nicely.

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Next to Rusty’s is  Spinning Jenny’s House of Music.  If I’d been in a better mood, I’d have popped on in there.  Rusty and Jenny are both pretty and vivacious ladies, with good product, so it’s likely I’ll stop in Shamrock, next time I’m in the area.

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I recall June 19 as Juneteenth, the day that Texas slaves received word of the Emancipation Proclamation:  June 19, 1865, when the Union forces landed in Galveston and spread the news.  This was 2 1/2 years after President Lincoln issued the Proclamation.  Today, many people are still not free of their own limiting mental chains.

“Waltz Across Texas” became “Zumba Across Oklahoma”, shortly thereafter.  I have a breakfast meet-up with one of my cousins, who lives near Joplin, early tomorrow morning.  So, there were no Sooners on my schedule, this leg of the trip.  I took the I-40 to 44 and onward straight-away, finding that the long-standing detour through the east side of Tulsa has been eliminated.  It’s all freeway, from Erick to Miami, so I found an hour had been shaved off the drive.  There was a minor rush hour jam, near downtown OKC, but that was all.

Once in Joplin, I found Motel 6 was reasonable, and that this franchise owner has a high-tech system, reminiscent of the European hotels I used, in 2014.  Keyless entry and paperless registration are here in the Heartland.

NEXT:  The Battle of Wilson’s Creek

Sixty-Six, for Sixty Six, Part XLVI: Tulsa Won My Trust

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Posted by on in impediments, Personal Values, Social, Travel

July 7, 2017, Joplin, MO- 

My son turned 29 today, and ended one banner year, with the promise of yet another. I rose early, in Santa Rosa, NM, and made it my goal to get to Amarillo, and the Blue Front Cafe, by lunch time.  The Time Zone differential always figures in, here, so when I call Wes, and tell him I’ll meet him for lunch, we both end up remembering, sooner or later, that 12 Noon means 1 PM.  So, once again, I miss Santa Rosa’s Blue Hole, for Amarillo’s Blue Front.

Wes had the place figured to be an oyster bar, and maybe that’s the new owner’s specialty, but the young lady who served us basically presented a lot of fare to which I’m accustomed. It is still good food, just not in as folksy an ambiance as under the previous ownership.  To a Texan, and to lesser an extent, an Arizonan, such tradition is everything.

After spinning a few yarns, and hearing some of Wes’s, I kept on, across the Llano Estacado.  Mailing my car payment, at the Post Office in Groom, TX, involved cruising around that handsome little town, just a bit.  Oklahoma, though, was not long in appearing in the foreground.

I had no pressing business, in the Sooner State, so essentially it was just  a series of pleasant memories that passed by, along with the towns:  Erick, Sayre, Elk City, Clinton, Weatherford, El Reno, Yukon and OKC.  There was no time to stop at the Memorial- maybe on the flip flop.  The Turnpike was what it always is, a quicker way to southwest Missouri and points further on.  As many of you know, it is divided into two segments, in northeast Oklahoma:  Before Tulsa and After Tulsa.  The erstwhile Oil Capital has not been high on my list, for several years, and all owing to my having witnessed a nasty tirade by a Greyhound Bus employee towards a fellow passenger, at the company’s terminal, in 1979.  That’s a lame excuse for a bad attitude, but it’s stayed in the back of my mind, ever since.  It was time to shed that perception.  I pulled off the highway, gassed up, admired a lovely woman-in a respectful manner and from a distance, and kept on with my drive to Joplin.   It was a ridiculous remedy, for a ridiculous grudge, but that’s all it took for Tulsa to win my trust.  One of these days, I will spend a day or two there, and better get to know the city of the Golden Hurricane.

I had planned on camping, in or near Joplin.  Cousin Lisa was tied up with 4-H, so I will try and catch her on the flip-flop, and besides, there was lightning flashing nearby, so I passed up the idea of setting up camp.  Tara Motel appeared, east of Joplin, as I was running out of energy, and options.  The place is a minimalist paradise, for the common man, who is just trying to catch about 120 winks.  That I was sure to do.  With no WiFi here, and Rerun Heaven in full swing, I read a bit and headed for dreamland.

NEXT UP:  Across Missouri and Illinois

Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part VII: Sudden and Sodden

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Posted by on in children, Hiking and Nature, Social

February 20, 2017, Anthem- The sight that greeted me, as I headed towards the spot where I heard a small child screaming, was not an alien arachnid, but the upended root system of a dead mesquite.20170220_1258341

The child, likewise, was fine.  He was just being willful and demanding- and mom had everything under control.  This mini-outburst was off to the side of the Anthem segment of the Maricopa Trail.

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I was driving back from a lengthy, and rather testy, medical appointment this morning .  (I am fine, and the less said, the better), when I happened upon the Anthem Trailhead.  This was another confirmation of the dictum that one creates one’s own reality.  I had been curious, as to the condition of the Sonoran Desert, after this weekend’s copious rain.  I was also curious, as to the terrain on the Maricopa Trail, between I-17 and Anthem.  The gooey, but flat, hike I took, early this afternoon, answered both questions.

As you can see above, there are a fair number of boulders strewn along this alluvial landscape, and it is entirely within settled horse country.

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There are episodic pools, along the way, one of which gave me a smile.  The main water body here, Skunk Creek, was bone dry.  There were no little white and black critters, either, but the tracks and scent of javelina were much in evidence.

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I came to this underpass, at the off-ramp from I-17, and spotted the continuation of Maricopa Trail, which would have taken me to its junction with Black Canyon Trail, another 1/8 mile to the west..  So, in essence, I have hiked, in segments, from Mayer to Anthem, over the past 1 1/2 years.  My main interest in the Maricopa Trail lies in its mountains and canyons, but I will certainly take the sense of continuity, along with them.

Now, back to the title of this post.  I was treated to a sudden, brief visit from a friend who lives in Oklahoma, and his little chihuahua.  It seems my Okie friends love their ankle biters, but this little guy gave me a sniff-over and jumped up on my lap.  It was a fast friendship.  They left, ahead of me, this morning, having enjoyed an evening of warmth and stabilization, following their sodden ride through eastern and central Arizona.  At least now, the Sun will temper their return home.

So, the ground will need a few days to dry out, my lower left molar has a temporary crown-with its permanent replacement in three weeks, and I have a new little friend.

The Road to 65, Mile 117: Group Therapy

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

March 25, 2015, Chino Valley- Last night, a family of three lost their trailer home, in an unincorporated town, about eight miles north of here. The oldest child attends the school, where I am working for three days this week. He, his mother and toddler sister lost everything they owned, except the clothes that were on their backs, at the time of the blaze. They lost their pets. That home was in an area which lies outside any fire district, meaning that residents have to pay for fire fighting service. The family had not paid for the service, so the home was a lost cause. Of course, mobile homes are not likely to last long, in a fire, anyway. A crew would have to arrive within three minutes of a blaze starting, in order for it to have any chance of success in extinguishing the blaze.

I watched again this evening, as reports of deadly tornadoes came out of Oklahoma: Oklahoma City and Moore, again, and Tulsa, its suburbs of Sand Springs and Okmulgee, also in the wind’s cross-hairs. This is March, so God, alone, knows how this tornado season, April to June, will play out in full. Everything seems on hyperdrive, weatherwise, this year, though, so perhaps the season will spend itself early, as well.

A pilot on a crowded commercial flight in western Europe was locked out of his own cockpit, and the plane crashed, killing all on board. The cause is left to the realm of speculation- always a sauce for further mayhem and disaster.

Terror, both natural and man-made, abounds, at any given time. Heartbreak, both local and international, is rife, most days. The only solution, as I see it, is unity of response and of relief. Some of us can offer money. Others, like me, can offer only time and energy. My point is solely that each of us can contribute to a group effort, at some level. Only by working together, consistently, can we foster healing. This has not come easily to me, over time, having been a loner until the age of 30, and more or less a steadfast, but somewhat quiet, spouse, until age 60. Penny got me out of my shell, and circumstances since she left this life have kept me out of it.

My only question: Where on the involvement spectrum are you?