June 10
Fourteen
years ago today I lost a dear friend.
Helen was Richard’s only sister.
She was the oldest of the six children her mother had and the only girl. Around Thanksgiving in 1998, Helen was
diagnosed with a brain tumor. Seven
months later, she was gone. She went
into a nursing home in March, 1999. I
was there every day unless Richard and I were out of town, then my sister in
law, Lucille, would check in on her.
Before she went into the nursing
home, we went places together. One of
the things she really enjoyed was going to gospel sings. We went downtown for a concert of the
Cathedrals. She also enjoyed watching
Bill Gaither on the television. She and
I talked many times about one particular song we’d heard Ivan Parker sing on
one of the Gaither Homecomings. WHEN I
GET CARRIED AWAY. It’s a lively song
that moves your heart and your soul, and Helen and I both loved it.
It says:
I’m gonna let the glory roll when the roll is called in glory
I’m gonna get beside of
myself when I get beside the king that day
I’m gonna have
the time of my life when the time of my life is over
I’m gonna get
carried away when I get carried away.
Somewhere in the middle of the song it says:
Well, I’ll pass the clouds and shout so loud,
It may sound like thunder.
I was sitting next to Helen’s bed
when she took her last breath. I went to
stand beside her. Behind me there was
the loudest clap of thunder. It
literally shook the window. I remember
smiling widely, and I knew she’d just let me know she had happily been carried
away. She’s been gone a long time, but I
think of her often and still miss her.
June
11,
During World War II, a road was
built to connect the contiguous United States and Alaska. The Alaskan Highway was completed in 1942 at
a length of approximately 1,700 miles.
As of 2012, it was 1,387 due to the constant reconstruction of the
highway, which has been rerouted and straightened out in numerous
sections. The highway opened to the
public in 1948. Legendary over many
decades for being a rough, challenging drive, the highway is now paved over its
entire length. Richard and I have
witnessed the change in driving conditions.
We were here in 1997, 2004, 2008 and, now in 2013. I would have to say we travel worse roads in
the lower states than here on the Alaskan Highway.
One of many pieces of equipment used
to make the Alaskan Highway. Almost
every town has one on display.
Almost everyone who travels through Canada to Alaska has a
copy of the MilePost, which was first published in 1949. A new one comes out every year. It begins in Dawson Creek, British Columbia,
Canada. That is known as Mile “0”. On
our last trip, I blogged about the MilePost and my addiction to it. The strange thing about this post from 2008,
is that we were in Dawson Creek on June 10, the same day as we were this year.
From blog of June 10, 2008-- The MilePost
is a must for anyone traveling to Alaska. It tells you about things to see
along the way and are pointed out by mile posts. Of course, many of the mile
posts have been stolen or not yet replaced after the hard winter. I am addicted
to the MilePost. It says things like:
DC 20.9 (this
is 20.9 miles from Dawson Creek which is mile 0) DJ1369.1 (miles from Delta Junction)
Kiskatinaw River Bridge Caution: Strong crosswinds on bridge. Turnout with
litter barrel and picnic tables to east at north end of bridge. View of unique
bridge support.
The MilePost
tells you about every little detail along the way. For some strange reason, I’m
so afraid I’ll miss something that I sit with the book in my lap reading every
mile to Richard.
“One mile
ahead, there is a NorthwesTel microwave tower to the east,” I yell from my desk
where I am supposed to be writing on a manuscript I should have finished before
I started this trip.
“That’s nice,”
my loving husband says.
“Two miles up
the road is a truck scales and public phone to the east. Truck stop to the
west; gas, cafe.”
“Great.”
“Be careful. We
are coming to a steep hill with a 10% grade. Have you checked your brakes?”
“Yes. They are
doing fine.”
“One mile,
Peace River Bridge. Metal grating on bridge deck. Slow down.”
It’s about this
time that Richard says, “Let me know when we find a UPS store so I can ship you
on ahead to where we will be staying tonight.”
To which I
reply, “You are so funny. Next two miles, watch for falling rock.”
This brings me
to a point I wonder about every time we are in this area. We are riding along
on a two lane road, no guardrails on the side that drops several thousand feet
to a valley below. Exactly what are we supposed to do should we see falling
rocks rolling down the straight-up rock cliff we are hugging?
Example of road with falling rock sign.
Where to you run to?
This is for Bobby (George) Sutton. Look what Richard found at the saloon next door to where we are camping. There were a couple of stools like this one next to a table made out of a wagon wheel. I think we are going to make a few of these for our barn to help it be "agricultured". LOL
Until next time,
Dolores
Love your travel facts. Keep 'em coming. Love ya.
ReplyDeleteSuch a lovely story about Helen.
ReplyDeleteMy mother used to question signs along the road, too. Once she even wrote to the State of New York to ask what kind of rock is "fallen" rock - For some reason thinking this designation fell into the same category as Granite or mica. I often wondered about the kind gentleman who replied to her letter - he must have had a good laugh, but his letter never let on. But, as you say, what exactly is one to do if it's coming at you and there's no place to go - except pray?