[Oe List ...] Please reflect first..;.
Marilyn Crocker
marilyncrocker at juno.com
Wed Sep 18 20:27:15 PDT 2013
Hey there, Bill and Bev,
I just caught up with what you wrote about memories re: 5thCity. I cannot
comment on the earlier stories, but I can when we, as an Order, decided to
make the turn to the world and launch the Summer 72 program at the new
Kemper building.
Im questioning what you described below is not at all the case. When our
twins (born in Singapore) and by 1972 were two years old when Joe and I
were assigned as staff for Summer 72. Joe and I were so delighted that you
and Bev were their guardians for the summer. We experienced that they
thrived while in the 5th city pre-school, and with you and Bev as Papa
Bill and Mama Bev. At least that was what you and Bev reported to us in
August of 1972.
I cannot imagine why you would not only misrepresent where we (their
parents) were not at all in India, but in the West Side of Chicago but
would also demean our sons by suggesting that you would mark their foreheads
admitting to something that I now see as akin to child molestation
especially when I , their Mom, collected them from pre-school most days.
What you have written below is shameful, Bill .
Please, from now on ask yourself, Who might I malign by expostulating in
such a fashion?
Your colleague, Marilyn
Later, Marilyn and John Crocker were sent for the summer to India and we
were put in charge of fairly new twins. Geez, they were identical and
weighed in lik Later, Marilyn and John Crocker were sent for the summer to
India and we were put in charge of fairly new twins. Geez, they were
identical and weighed in like football linemen. Carrying them up the stairs
to the Crocker's apartment was a living chore. In order to keep them
identified, I marked their initials on their foreheads with permanent
markers--of course, this is what made them so diddly dern smart. Look at
them know. The next time you see them, look closely at their foreheads.
e football linemen. Carrying them up the stairs to the Crocker's apartment
was a living chore. In order to keep them identified, I marked their
initials on their foreheads with permanent markers--of course, this is what
made them so diddly dern smart. Look at them know. The next time you see
them, look closely at their foreheads.
My other story about the basement is the first weekend of our internment.
Beverly was assigned to paint the old gym, and I was assigned to Baby Care.
I learn all about diaper songs, and feeding songs, and whatever else was
necessary.
Joe and I had
From: oe-bounces at lists.wedgeblade.net
[mailto:oe-bounces at lists.wedgeblade.net] On Behalf Of William Salmon
Sent: Wednesday, September 18, 2013 6:02 PM
To: Order Ecumenical Community
Subject: [Oe List ...] Salmon:A couple of stories
Paula--The print shop I remember was down the street very near the
The boiler room in the basement brings another memory or two.
When preparing myself for an internship in June of 1972, I traveled to
Chicago on recruiting trips for Kansas Wesleyan University. Before that job
was over, I recruited one young 5th Citizen college student who came and
made a educational name for herself. Unfortunately, I have trouble
remembering names. Sometimes I forget that I'm married to Betty Sue, that is
another story.
I planned to stay over the weekend at the seminary, and I arrived in the
early evening to park on the street in my school car--a brand new Chevy
Impala. I entered the building through the Guard Shack to a follow wearing a
gun. Others were busy charting!
Since it was Friday evening, everyone was eating everywhere, including on
the floor upon the dirtiest carpet I ever saw. The food was good
though--especially the bread pudding.
Later, they took me to my room in the basement in what was the coal bin.
They gave me two clear sheets and a pillow (I think that is what they called
it). There being no light, it was iffy in getting everything put together.
Reveille was the traditional gong and spiritual phrase.
My first meeting was with an old friend from Kansas--a pastor (not
Philbrook) who later left the Order to serve a church in the Chicago
suburbs. Damn him! He crushed my bubble big time, and then later he ran out
on me.
He asked me what I was doing, and I gave him my report of working for
Kansas Wesleyan and beginning the Kansas Lake Ministry at 4 Kansas lakes.
He looked through me and said, "Too bad you are not doing enough!" "What
do you mean," I stammered? "Is what you are doing global and replicable?"
That sold me right there. The rest of the weekend is lost to memory except
for the Sunday afternoon Sacramental meal. I remember some colleague saying
a pray on some subject, and Joseph interrupted him by saying, (in effect),
"Don't listen to him, God. He doesn't know what he is talking about."
After that my only concern was if my car survived or not. It did! Do
Guardian Angels exist? Naw, just raw luck.
My other story about the basement is the first weekend of our
internment. Beverly was assigned to paint the old gym, and I was assigned to
Baby Care. I learn all about diaper songs, and feeding songs, and whatever
else was necessary. Later, Marilyn and John Crocker were sent for the summer
to India and we were put in charge of fairly new twins. Geez, they were
identical and weighed in like football linemen. Carrying them up the stairs
to the Crocker's apartment was a living chore. In order to keep them
identified, I marked their initials on their foreheads with permanent
markers--of course, this is what made them so diddly dern smart. Look at
them know. The next time you see them, look closely at their foreheads.
Ah, I have so many other stories to tell, and I'll get to it soon. One
is the greeting we received in the seminary hall while our son, Wesley, was
getting mugged by the children in the courtyard. Another, is why they told
us that all that we brought with us would be left overnight in the middle of
the street. Whatever was left over was what we really would need for the
duration.
It really is a shame that was more myth than reality. I'll save that one
for later, including the one about Richard Epson--a real honest-to-goodness
colleague who caught the vision of the print-shop significance.
Inner Peace,
Bill
----- Original Message -----
From: <mailto:paula.philbrook at gmail.com> Paula Philbrook
To: <mailto:oe at lists.wedgeblade.net> Order Ecumenical Community
Sent: Wednesday, September 18, 2013 8:51 AM
Subject: Re: [Oe List ...] Salmon: Question
Richard Epson was 70's I remember him working on the Town Meeting program.
Are you talking the print shop in the basement boiler room on the campus or
down the street on 5th Avenue? I do not remember when we moved down the
street but it was before 1969?
On Wed, Sep 18, 2013 at 8:29 AM, James Wiegel <jfwiegel at yahoo.com> wrote:
Did Michael Ware work in the printshop one quarter??
Jim Wiegel
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On Sep 17, 2013, at 18:57, "William Salmon" <wsalmon at cox.net> wrote:
Randy--
I know Bob Shropshire well, and the name Richard Epson (?) rings a bell
softly. He was 5.7 and about 150 #. He had a great spirit about him.
Can anyone help me out. I'll take this name under consideration.
Thanks!
Bill
----- Original Message -----
From: <mailto:rcwmbw at yahoo.com> R Williams
To: <mailto:wsalmon at cox.net> wsalmon at cox.net
Sent: Tuesday, September 17, 2013 4:08 PM
Subject: Re: [Oe List ...] Salmon: Question
Bill,
The two who come to mind that it could have been are Bob Shropshire or maybe
Richard Epson. Not real sure about that I have the second name right.
Randy
"A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know
they shall never sit."
--Greek Proverb
From: William Salmon < <mailto:wsalmon at cox.net> wsalmon at cox.net>
To: Order Ecumenical Community < <mailto:oe at lists.wedgeblade.net>
oe at lists.wedgeblade.net>
Sent: Tuesday, September 17, 2013 3:44 PM
Subject: [Oe List ...] Salmon: Question
Beret--
If someone can tell me the name of a young black young adult (Order?) who
worked in the Print Shop in the mid-1960's, I have a nice story to share. In
addition, I'll send two or three others. Help, anyone?
Bill Salmon
----- Original Message -----
From: <mailto:beretgriffith at gmail.com> Beret Griffith (Google Drive)
To: <mailto:Oe at wedgeblade.net> Oe at wedgeblade.net
Cc: <mailto:dialogue at lists.wedgeblade.net> dialogue at lists.wedgeblade.net
Sent: Monday, September 16, 2013 4:47 PM
Subject: [Oe List ...] Archive History-Version 9.doc (
<mailto:Oe at wedgeblade.net> Oe at wedgeblade.net)
I've shared an item with you.
Colleagues, Greetings from The Global Archives. Marge Philbrook has been the
inspiration for documenting the history of The Global Archives.Your
recollections of the archives are welcome and will be included. Anyone with
memories of the print shops? We would like to add your stories and
recollections, in addition to hearing about anyones experiences in the
archives.
<https://docs.google.com/document/d/1f3iDOBwKD9H4k54g3aj_0in78L7eKOr66Kxbe2F
S-4o/edit?usp=sharing&invite=CNOF_YoC> Archive History-Version 9.doc
Google Drive: create, share, and keep all your stuff in one place.
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<https://drive.google.com/> Paula
Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough,
and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to
clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger
into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today,
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