Return to Bartlesville

It is amazing that 30 years has passed so quickly since my high school graduation. A class reunion. My first one. I missed the previous ones apparently. Thank goodness for Facebook, I guess it is worth something, if at least we are able to briefly stay in touch with friends so far away. This weekend was about remembering the past. Remembering the neighborhoods we played in, the restaurants we ate at, the trouble some of us got into and the laughs we all shared. Maybe even a few tears.

Visiting back home has always been a bit difficult for me ever since my father passed away in '85. Just tough memories and things never really felt the same. I should have made a better effort to overcome that and stay in touch with family and friends. Now that my mother is now gone there are less reasons to return. A brief business transaction during our visit to resolve my mothers estate will close the roots to this hometown of mine. I will forever now be just a visitor to Bartlesville.

The reunion was a great opportunity to visit and become reacquainted with long lost friends. Some going back all the way to kindergarten. That is amazing to have known friends that long.....and we can still be friends......even if I did unravel Martha's napping rug 42 years ago on the floor of Garfield Elementrary. 

There were others that became close friends at McKinley Elementary where we began playing and developing those fond memories. So fun recalling the times when we were forced to square dance in PE class. My former partners Kim and Jamie were there......good thing the band didn't play any oh down music to revive any of those 'two step' moves. And of course Scotty and Rob were there to remind me of all the mischief we....okay mainly me.....got into back then. Many of my close friends weren't able to make it back for the gathering. It felt a little incomplete without them.

Middle School and then High School accumulated even more relationships as each elementary feed into Central Jr. High. That building still looks great. What a classic piece of historic architecture. Football began in those years and a new kind of bonding with the guys occurred. So many people in Jr. High that it was difficult to make friendships.....or at least for me.....stricken with a terrible case of shyness.

College High School and Sooner High became Bartlesville High as our city combined our cross town rival into one conglomerate in '83 with 500+ in each class. New friends and new adventures so many with what seemed like such a short period of time that it was hard to get too close. This reunion allowed us to finally know a little more about each other.

Thirty years ago I probably had more insecurities and struggles trying to figure out who I was back then. The reunion reminded me of that and even though I am far from that shy little boy of ages ago some of those feelings resurfaced.....feeling a little out of place in a town I once called home. Do we try to justify who we have now become to all of our friends? Maybe. I'm not sure that it matters anymore to anyone. We have all grown up and I think most just like seeing and chatting with each other for a short time. At the close of the weekend most of us will all retreat back to our homes in distant far away places and slip back into the comfort that we have wrapped ourselves up in. There is nothing wrong with that. I am envious of those who have maintained close relationships or even stayed nearby. I don't think there can ever be anyone as close as those you grew up with.

Speaking of knowing me while I grew up.....I was probably a jerk to some back then. I deeply apologize for any stupid stuff I did back in those days. Can I blame it on teenage hormones and adolescents? I hope so. Just so you know I did grow out of that......mostly.

FOUR WEEKS LATER

I didn't get around to posting this for one reason or another. I have had the chance to ponder all of the event and run things through my mind several times. It wasn't necessarily all that I had hoped mostly because there were so many that I hung out with that didn't make it to the event. It was nice to talk with friends and hear how they were doing and what they were doing in their lives. And others I got to know a little better. Probably hardly talked with some from high school days for one reason or another.....probably mostly due to shyness. It was nice to talk and make 'new' friends from some of the old friends. Still there were others that I never got the opportunity to "meet" at the reunion. Maybe some of that separation is still there like high school. Who knows, maybe we still don't have anything in common.

Regardless, it did make me a little homesick. Funny saying that because I have lived in Virginia Beach longer than I ever lived in Bartlesville. This is my home now......this is where I belong. The other is just a distant memory that sometimes feels like a dream.

Some times dreams are best left as dreams. I don't see me venturing back to Bartlesville often, maybe for the next big reunion. My brother and my sister who still live there don't often communicate. Until my mothers funeral I hadn't spoke with them for over ten years. Unforately I fear that it will have to be another tragedy to bring us back together. Life is funny like that.

Through all the hurdles growing up, I really didn't have many, I still think Bartlesville was one of the best places to grow up. I had great memories as a child. Some bigger than they probably actually were......that's okay, memories are supposed to be that way.

A salute to my friends of the class of '84..... The best there is! 

Stay safe until the next time.

D. Eugene Thompson

ET This I Believe

Monuments Men

My wife and I took advantage of a lazy afternoon this Saturday (which rarely ever happens......lazy that is) to take in a movie in the afternoon. We had heard the Monuments Men was a good movie so that was our choice. I won't tell all the details so as not to SPOIL it if you haven't seen it yet, but basically is was about the collection of art during Hitler's reign. 

First the collection by Hitler. He had the Germans gather up every piece of great art from paintings to sculptures including books and jewelry to be displayed in his own massive Fuehrer Museum. First is was taken from the Jews. Then everywhere else including churches and museums as they marched thru each country and each city. They destroyed anything they could not take.

The second was the RE-collection by the Monuments Men to insure that the Germans didn't destroy it all before the end of the war as they were loosing. Their task was to get it back to the previous owners unlike the Russians who were collecting also but for their repercussions from how much they lost during the war.

A very interesting movie based on much of the true story. But it made me angry......actually sick to my stomach. Seeing part of the movie where the Germans were retreating they burned many of the storage vaults/mines where all the art was stored. Just burned it because they couldn't have it. Great works of art by great masters gone forever. 

It is so sad when war or natural disasters cause damage and things like this get ruined but to just plain burn it is senseless. Sickening. Many of the works created you don't know if they are still lost someplace or were destroyed by the Germans. Again, senseless act of selfishness. Even if I have never known or seen these great pieces it makes me sad to know that me and everyone else will never be able to experience the beauty. I can imagine some of those Monuments Men who had actually seen the works previously......and then saw the ashes. I'm sure it made them sick too.

Brings to me the one artwork I know and very much appreciated growing up that was destroyed. Shin'en kan by Bruce Goff. The private residence of Joe Price who had hired this creative architect to create a piece of architecture artistry. One of a kind unique home that was burned down because the new land owner wanted to build his NEW house one the same spot......supposedly. 

I had visited the home many times and when my mother sent me the newspaper clippings of it destroyed and the loss I was devastated. Sick to my stomach. A senseless waste that now cannot be appreciated by so many others. The Monuments Men reminded me of this event and brought to mind how cruel and irresponsible people can be.

It just goes to show that things on this earth are here for only a short time and that we should learn to appreciate them while we can. Before they are gone. Forever. That goes for art, architecture, cultures and most importantly PEOPLE.

Go visit a museum today my friends!

Or a friend! Don't wait until tomorrow.

ET This I Believe

Eugene Thompson

 

Father's Day 2013

It is that time of the year again, another Fathers Day. I am not sure how I take this day any more. Either good or bad. Good, obviously because I have four fantastic children who are healthy and alive. Them along with their husbands and wives....or soon to be wife in one case....seem to have great relationships with each other. This is always great to see. Bad, the not so obvious reason,  this time of year reminds me that I miss my father so terribly much. The opportunity to make a call or send a card or even have dinner together doesn't exist for me.

My father passed away over twenty eight years ago. Each time I say that it seems so long ago. Time may have healed wounds from the painful day when I was in my early twenties and just started college. Faded are too many of the memories of the distant past. I don't like the fact that I don't think of my father as much as I feel I should. However when I do remember it is filled with a bit of pain deep inside realizing what I said above, I just won't ever be able to see him again.

I see within myself some of my fathers traits.....of those that I recognize. They are the amusing memories...maybe because those are the things I choose to recall. My father was always an ambitious individual. He had high hopes and dreams to make and do more for his family. We visited lots of places as a family, and even more when it was just me at home. Maybe I should do a blog about some of those trips....some were really funny. My father tried to do something beyond imagination with a few inventions that he had been working on. The biggest was a patent he held for a non-aerosol devise. We went all over the country and even down into Mexico to try to get that off the ground. 

One of the biggest influences I see my father within me is the drive to have and run our own businesses. My father opened his tax office when I was only a year old. It was called KENCO, ....after his name.....KEN and company basically. I grew up in that small office on Frank Phillips Blvd. Played as a child in the back office and many of my fathers clients saw me grow up within those walls. I don't recall the person, but I know one contractor brought me in a small wooden dog house to play with. I had that toy for many years. I wonder where that went to? I guess I got his will to create and be an entrepreneur from the years I spent in that office. As a young child I worked for my father doing "chores". I got paid a wage for the work I did. I raked the shagrug, .25; cleaned the bathroom, .25; took out the trash....there were a lot of bins for each of the employees, .25; dusted, .25; refilled the soda machine, .25..... and so on. As I grew up I was taught how to do short form taxes. This was just another math problem for me. Pre computer days. And then once into high school I advanced to corporate taxes. This saved me from ever having to flip burgers at a fast food place. I am thankful for that.

My father's office had a bunch of services that I was allowed to assit with. He had a Western Union service there that transferred money more than messages. I often help with that and the teletype machine in the back. KENCO provided copies for clients. Many would come in just for that. They didn't make copies themselves but rather give us the documents and we went to the back to make them. Some times just a few copies, sometimes hundreds. This was a way that my father saw to help offset the costs of the copy machine that he needed to prepare taxes. It wasn't until I went to college I saw the first KINKO'S in Stillwater......funny the name was so close.....and they provided copy services. I wonder to this day where and how they got started. Maybe they drove through Bartlesville one day? 

As copy orders got bigger, we had a small printing press in the back. On that machine we could make hundreds of copies.....of each one....black and white mostly. Wow, time certainly has changed in technology. Those services put me up at the front desk taking orders and meeting face to face with customers. Taking money and giving change....all in my head. We didn't have a cash register. I don't think many people can do that these days. They don't even know how to count. I had to add up the cash drawer every evening as well to see how much money we made.

Not always but sometimes I even answered the phone and took messages. Not bad for just a teenage kid. I still did the chores too.....usually got more than a quarter for it. I saw my father's office grow. He had to get the small house next door so he could store more things. He had an office in Skiatook for a while. I remember when he got his first computer for taxes. It looked like the captain's chair for Star Trek. It was massive. And did so little...lol. Then there were versions of the PC that came out. The business of taxes was growing. We saw the development of our new competition.....H&R Block. All of this makes me wonder if my dad could have seen how the development of the tax offices or copy outlets could have grown where it would have gone. Where would the growth have taken my family?

My brothers worked briefly for my father, but that was only once they were grown and only for a bit. It was me that grew up in that office, that knew it so well. I know my parents wanted me to take over the business. They hoped that I would be interested in carrying on the KENCO name. However, that wasn't the case. Nobody in our family showed a desire to "work taxes". Nobody seemed to have my father's business in their interest. Such a shame. The business had ran its course and allowed my father to raise and support his family. And then we all turned our back on it. I certainly didn't see myself working taxes the rest of my life. I didn't want to be an accountant. I wanted to be an architect. We all had our own goals.

And then the day came when it was just too much for my father as well. His frail body couldn't keep up with the diabetes that attacked it. And I am sure that running a small business had its own set of stresses as well. I understand that first hand. My father, my dad, passed away on August 13, 1985. I was home from college that summer after my first year. I wasn't even working for my father that summer. I was working for a concrete contractor. It was my mother's birthday. I rode to the hospital in the ambulance. The driver was a guy I went to high school with, played soccer with. His heart had given out. I remember sitting on the floor of the hall in the hospital wearing my old house slippers......hadn't worn those in years. Is was the quickest thing I could find in the middle of the night as I rushed to ride along in the ambulance. Isn't it funny the things we remember?

The days, the weeks, the months and now the years have passed since that dark evening. There are times now that I sit at my desk in my office and I think of my father. I try to compare the stress that I have with what his might have been. I really never understood.....I really wasn't old enough to. I compare my business with his. The size of the office....as we now begin our expansion. The number of employees....as we continue to grow. I wish he could see me. I wish I could share. I wish I knew that he was proud of me. I wish I could sit down and have a chat about stuff......anything. He wasn't all into sports, he wasn't all into politics, nor even church. He just did his business. That was all I really ever knew of him. And I was there much of the journey. This I am thankful for.

I am thankful for a father that provided for me. For a father that obviously loved me....even if he didn't always know how to show it. I am thankful for that funny guy who was more odd than being in style. I am thankful that I got to spend time....even if it was too short....with my dad. I guess, now I see how strange I am.....I guess, in a little way....my kids get the chance to see their grandfather in me.....a little odd, a little quirky, a little possessed, a little goofy......but most importantly a father that loves his children. 

I miss you Dad, love you always. Thinking of you today.

ET this I beleive