TLC logo TLC #10:  April 29, 2001

Date: Sunday, April 29, 2001 3:46 PM
Subject: TLC Issue #10

Greetings from Lovely Lexington!
The dogwood, crabapple, redbud, pear, tulip, etc. trees are in various stages of bloom. Tulips and iris are adding color, and the wind has finally calmed down. We're having warm, might even say unusually warm, weather and it's sparked that elemental human need to stick your hands in the dirt. As for me, I do it vicariously. Husband Ken is out in the backyard industriously building a brick wall and landscaping our postage-stamp backyard. My part: I watch from the porch and occasionally open the door to holler "Attaboy!"
In my defense, however, I have been a tad busy. Got through tax season, then a visit from a granddaughter who came for her first Military Ball (blind date and all), followed by a visit from our daughter for the dedication of John Shea Drive. That took place yesterday. Thank you to those of you who attended. It meant more to me than you can know. If anyone is interested in seeing photos from the ceremony, our son Paul created a website:  it is       Just click on.        
There are plenty of messages to pass along, but first I must tell you a Lexington story. Shortly after our cosmopolitan daughter arrived from New Orleans, we got a phone call from some friends saying they were doing some landscaping and had just put down fresh mulch in their backyard. We asked Sheila if she wanted to go with us to see what they'd done. She replied: "No, but you'd better hurry back. I think someone down the alley is painting a fence." (She does not understand small town living!)
By the way: since I last wrote we have had another new restaurant open. I just blanked on the name, but it's BBQ and out at Kopp's on Hwy 13 next to the Hwy 24 overpass.
Some more interesting missives have arrived, and I am forwarding them along. They are the abridged editions, though. I want to assure you all that you can send along anything you want. You may tell me what to edit out or what you'd rather not share, or I will edit at my discretion - for your sake or mine. We don't have room for jokes, and I suppose we all get the same ones anyway. Also A.W. Sandring sent along some very interesting entertainment notes for those who live in or near K.C. I saved them for myself but will be glad to forward to anyone who requests.
Here we go:
From Jack Gueguen:
Thanks for the newsy messages today.  I just want to make a simple observation--about your closing salutation: "Your pitiful scribe." That word "pitiful" was a wonderful way in 16th century English to express deep sentiments of fellow-feeling and solidarity.  A variant was "piteous."  So it was more appropriate than you may have realized to close with that expression!
From Duncan Lee:
Received #9 Loud and Clear. Thanks. Great to see writing from all those names from the past. Most of whom I either remember or remember hearing about.
Wayne Tabb built a beautiful book case in my parents old house on So. 13th St. I remember Wayne mostly for his hot rods!
From Mary Pat Gueguen Miller:
Susan, I continue to love and appreciate your literary efforts.  I admire it all, and I laugh at your deprecating humor.  (Where would we be without it?)  In the past few months, I have printed copies of a little booklet called "My Story", which I have been working on for quite a few years.  Born out of the deep sadness of having to move my Mother out of her home in '95, OUR home, and then having to sell her home in '96, OUR home, it made me want to start looking back to the "little girl I used to be."  Anyway, a few copies are
floating around Lexington with some good friends, and just today I ran across an item in the "1951" category in the Lexington News which inspired another story I will include in "the next printing," about our managing the Odessa Ice Cream Shop on Franklin.  The item states our special of "a giant double dip ice cream cone for 5 cents," and, "managed by Mrs. John A. Gueguen.".  I just didn't realize that we were so young when we started working there.  Were there no child labor laws?????????? 

Also, congratulations on John Shea Drive!  When I saw the pictures of your young Daddy in the paper, I thought of all the times I overheard my Mother talking to "John" on the phone, about putting some article about a family event in the paper.  I think he sort of enjoyed Marjorie. Anyway, it is delightful to hear of the memories of so many and their connection to our hometown after so many years.  Lexington will always be precious to our family.   
From Diane Harris Hopkins:
Dear Susan, I am sure that you won't remember me!  I am one of the Class of '52!  (I did work at the Advertiser News (part time) my Senior year - really enjoyed it; went on to study Journalism!)  Your Dad was a good sport to even hire me, thinking back! 
Your TLC was forwarded to me through  Baby Thompson and also, Mary Carolyn Trent.  I have missed the issues prior to #8 - could you send them to me sometime?  I would so appreciate your effort.  It is a wonderful thing that you are doing for all of us.  It just amazes me the  genuine interest that you are stimulating  among  us. 
I want you to know that Marjorie  Rodenberg Schoppenhorst passed away four years ago.  She and Bill were living in Fairhope, Al at the time.  I will also e-mail Liz Fenner. 
I am in hopes of returning for our Reunion this year! 
Thanks again for your interest in all of us!  Diane Harris Hopkins 
From Joyce Gueguen Ramsey:
Hi Susan, did wonder briefly about your long absence, but remembered about tax time since you used to do my Mom & Dad's stuff before they died.  Wanted to see how many remembered the Chinese restaurant on Franklin when it was our old "Odessa Ice Cream Shop" & our family ran it for I can't remember how many years from April to October.  Talk about memories of the jukebox and marshmallow-chocolate "stirs" (small sundaes in little Coke glasses).

Jeanene Rodekohr, Susie Bell, Mike Fenner, Tom Mallot - we used to get in such trouble playing poker with chocolate chips (my Dad called it "gambling"), chasing each other out the side doors with the wet counter rag, until my great-grandma across the street who sat by the window all day would rat on us to Aunt Florence and she would call my Mom.  I had such a crush on Slick Heathman & he didn't even know I existed.  I'm sure my brother can remember how long we used to manage that every summer, & all of us have our own memories.  Joe & I just celebrated our 41st anniversary - 4 sons, (3 Aggies '83,'84,'86 & 1 TCU Horny Frog '85); 1 daughter (MU '92); all of them have their Masters, all married, 10 grandkids, oldest 2 are 10 & youngest is 2. Son, Casey, lives in Smithville, MO so we get up there pretty often. Haven't been back in Lexington since my Mom's funeral in Dec., 1998 - it was so weird not to have our own house to stay in but the B & B on South St. (the Parsonage) was nice.  Still hate the thought we sold our house. Still dream of all the old rooms, my folks, all the fun & fights, & growing up in Lex. Lovella Yates, Ann Fiora, & I used to walk to the library almost every day in the summer & check out Nancy Drew books or whatever & lay in the grass at Lovella's house & read until our Mom's used to call us home.  I always knew I wanted to be a nurse so I did ('59 at College of St.Teresa or Avila, now) & still am , at Comal County Health Dept., giving vaccinations to poor, defenseless kids who have to get them for school.  I taught LVNs for 18
years at UT in Brownsville.  Joe & I are Kansan & Missourian by birth, but definitely TEXAN BY CHOICE.  We live in the Gruene Historic District in New Braunfels & so far it is still a small town, easy to get around in except in the summer or "Schlitterbahn Season."  We are 3 blks from Gruene Hall (John Travolta did some scenes there in "Michael") & down the hill is where all the tourists go rafting down the Guadalupe River.  We moved here after 22 yrs. in Brownsville in 1996 to be near our daughter & family - Beth & Bill
have 3, 2 of which have Cystic Fibrosis, so we wanted to be here.  Just a little news to add to the next TLC.  Glad to have you back.  
From Lucia Cope Hulston:

    What a hoot to see an e-mail from you!  And what a wonderful surprise to see how you are keeping everyone connected!!  By looking at the list of this chain letter group, I can only guess how you got my address.  I'm thrilled to death to be on your list now, but would it be possible for you to send me all the TLC's before this one?  I'd love it!!
    So many curious connections to Lexington:  one day my dentist happened to mention that his dad was best friends with a man who taught at Wentworth.  Turned out it was Frank Thompson, Anne's dad.  Another day at that same dentist's office I ran into Mr. and Mrs. Ed Lee.
     I am glad to hear about plans for the Franklin Hole.  It was fun to be on that committee for awhile, as it kept me in touch with the goings-on thereabouts.  My son will graduate next spring from MU in history; my stepdaughter married last year and we visited her and her husband in Paris at Christmas, where Lorrie was studying pastries.  She develops recipes primarily for Cooking Light magazine and her husband who has had a long career in TV journalism, will soon be involved in free lance film projects.  They live in Atlanta.  My stepson is still involved in the music recording business.
    Our LHS class of '59 continues with our fine traditions of getting together every five years, which is always fun.  I cannot believe how good it is to be further connected with Lexingtonians via your efforts.  Thanks so very much.
From Mike Fenner:

From W.K. and Joan Waddell:
Please add our email address to your list to receive the local Lexington
news.  Lexington was our home for many years until we moved away in 1965.
From Shirley Briggle Miller:

Well, I regret it, but I can't be there for this event. You'll have to take me over for a reenactment when I come home. When we went to Washington, we had to give up dinner with the King and Queen of Spain to go early and have dinner with the Lehrers.  No big sacrifice, we had a lot more fun with Kate and Jim.  But tonight we have a dinner for George Bush I -- SMU (Southern Methodist U) gave him their medal or something this afternoon. It's at the home of Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys. As the society columnist at The News put it (not original with him), the Jones' house is what God would build if He had the money.

And all the rest of the week is crammed with this sort of thing . . . but the main reason is I am chair of
the AAUW Scholarship committee and we are wrapping that up for the next academic year between tomorrow and next Tuesday.  It will be three meetings, and I can't be gone.  But will be thinking of you.
And remember I asked you if you had anything you wanted to tell Ruth Bader Ginsburg when I was in
Washington (she performed the wedding), so I told her you didn't answer!  (Editor: Well, what I really wanted to ask her was where she gets her hair done.)
More later.  Tell your other hello for me. (Editor: By second message Shirley says she intended to say "Tell your Mother hello for me. I thought she meant Ken!)
Then later she wrote:
But let me tell you about the Party for George at Jerry Jones house.  This "house" sits on a bundle of
land in the middle of Dallas, and has had several owners since it was built in the 20s or so.  We had
been there twice before when it had two separate owners, and although each remodeled and remolded it,
the home still held its Spanish charm.  Huge, but charming. 

Then Jerry Jones bought it. He and his wife added 20- to 30-thousand square feet to the house, replaced the flagstone terrace with formal gardens watched over by cherubs, fountains, marble steps, wide steps, little steps, grass steps, teeny steps, and symmetrical tree plantings.

Inside the house they ran marble across the floors and up the walls, and had football players carved into the
library woodwork.  No kidding.  There is quite a bit of disagreement over this new house of Jerry's.  Some
that night thought it was Versailles times two; some Versailles divided by two.   
It was inside that the reception for George Bush the elder took place, and Bob, my husband, and I finally
got in the extended visit we hadn't had with him since he left the White House.  The other times had been hit and run. 

I congratulated him on the part he played in the birth of his son (if you think I'm going to take on a father
over his son's public policies, you're crazy), and he admitted, "His mother grew him up."  He said, as we've
all read, that he gets emotional over the relationship of son and father presidents.  (When he mentioned this
in a brief off-the-cuff speech at the dinner, he teared and choked up...all of us applauded our "It's OK.")  I said there's not exactly anybody you can call up to ask what it was like.  You don't get much response from the Adamses any more.  Bob asked if he were through parachuting out of airplanes, and he said no, but he'd made an agreement with Barbara, and (specific date, I don't recall) -- on his 80th birthday (I think he's 76 now) he would jump again.  He said, "Bar says one way or another, it's going to be my last jump.
George and I worked on this "we go wayyyy back" routine for a minute and figured we've known each
other 36 years.  I knew I was pregnant with somebody when we met him, and it turns out to be our first
child, daughter Lisa.  This was before the Republican Party and I got a divorce over women's rights and
abortion.  George has always been on the side of the former, and on both sides of the latter.  This was
also before he offered us the use of Kennebunkport for a few days one summer and we turned him down.

But finally we went on down the hill (steps, steps, STEPS) to the dinner, which was on the tennis court.
Now, this is just your average tennis court that seats 300 for dinner, plus two stages, one for the band.
Marines, probably.  The flowers would easily supply five weddings and were magnificent.  Even the rich
were saying, "Omigod, nothing is rented."  Not the half-inch gold-rimmed water goblets nor the crystal
wine glasses nor the china and silver, or even the silver-studded tablecloths.  And certainly not the
silver (and I don't mean silver-plated) terrines holding the fresh flower centerpieces.  Each terrine
was different.  All belong to the Joneses.
But shoot, that was nothing.  What impressed me was the tent.  Now, we've done tents.  When one works for a newspaper (Bob) and the other for political candidates (me), you see a lot of tents (well, houses,
too.)  But believe me, this was a TENT.  All transparent plastic, even the three-story high roof. At first it appeared to be permanent, as it fit perfectly just outside the tennis court's knee-high wall.  Yet even the roof was clean, which is impossible here in Dallas where West Texas blows in everyday.  But it had wide metal girders, chandeliers, spotlights from the braces lighting every centerpiece.
This tent was the talk of the night.  Two of the neighbors (which include one former governor) said it
couldn't be permanent because it wasn't there two days before. So after dinner I asked Jerry.  He replied, "It's ours and the Cowboys',"  (Uh-oh, tax de-duc-ti-ble) "We both use it.  He said when they had the Tom Landry "thing," all of Landry's former players were inside the tent on the field.  How would I know.  The Dallas Cowboys and I had an agreement:  They don't worry about me, and I don't worry about them.

It was a fun party, though.  The Secret Service checked (and I mean checked) us in, and the valet
parkers got us out.  But I'm going to suggest to Jones that he widen that driveway.

. . . And I hope the ceremony tomorrow is nice andthat you don't cry TOO much.  Your daddy gave a lot to
Lexington, and he deserves this.
P.S.  I had to look up "terrine," and it surely doesn't look right.  I THINK Versailles is right, but I won't write it very often, you know.  When the SpellCheck ran down and got to "susan," it suggested "Psusan."
Editor: And so we end our most recent sentimental journey to Lexington. Farewell again from your pitiful scribe,
P.S. If you want any back issues, please let me know. I'll be glad to forward them. Also, please check for your friends' names. Gremlins get into my computer and steal names from time to time. I think I have this problem solved, but I'd consider it a kindness if you'd check for me.

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