Blast From the Past

     While we were in Boston touring Old Ironsides, climbing 296 steps in the tower at Bunker Hill, walking the Freedom Trail, our camper was ransacked.  Everything was pulled out of every drawer and cupboard.  Mysteriously, we didn’t discover anything missing—until the next day when we realized the tool chest, the most expensive item in the motorhome, was missing.  June 8, 1981

1) WHO didn’t lock the wing windows in the motor home while sight-seeing in Boston and got robbed? (Everybody or Nobody!)

2) WHO said, “I’m glad they didn’t come in with muddy shoes!”  (Amy Lyn, age 6)

3) WHO said “One can’t help but compare the courage, strength, honor, and dignity of the Patriots and Founding Fathers with the soft, creepy, characterless hoodlums who roam the streets of Boston today?” (Mom)

The Strange Case of the Missing Gym Bag

     This morning when Ed and I went to the car to go to the gym, my gym bag was missing from the back seat. Because we've been cleaning the garage, the car had been in the driveway since we got home on Wednesday. The left back door doesn't lock automatically so I thought it was open with the other doors locked; but DeRay said he took the time to manually lock it that evening.
     So where is my gym bag? I leave it in the car, just carrying in my wet swim suit and towel. Fins, swim cap, goggles, extra swim suit, cell phone, lotions, comb, brush, etc, in a cosmetic bag all left in the car.
     "DeRay! Did you give my gym bag to DI?"
     "No." He comes to help me look.
     A strange thing. When I got back from riding my trike this morning, I noticed my plastic gym pass on the driveway by the back door. "Did it fall out when I got home on Wednesday? Certainly someone would have noticed it before now." I pick it up pondering.
     My driver's license and the money was still in the arm rest in the front seat. 
     Was the bag taken while we were out riding with the garage door wide open? Certainly I would have noticed the swim pass when I rode by on my trike. Why would anyone take a ragtag gym bag (the zipper didn't even work) and leave Amy's $800 bike in the open garage?  The cell phone wasn't a smart phone. It's old and dumb and only used for emergencies.
     We tried calling the number but no one answered.
     I wanted to tell the thief that I need my fins before we leave on vacation tomorrow.
     Wait! Why would I tell a thief we're leaving town? 
     (Of course, we're not all leaving town. The one with the thirty-aught-six will be on the porch guarding the property; another inside with a butcher knife ready to strike. Not to mention the two fierce dogs on high alert. Oh yes, and surveillance cameras connected directly to the police station. With liberty and justice for all.)

     Mystery partially solved.
     When Amy got home she said she heard the car alarm go off at 4 AM. (When the other doors are locked and you open that back door, the alarm goes off. I found that out early one morning on our way to Missouri when DeRay went in the store and left me in the car. When I opened the door to get out to go in, the alarm went off waking everyone up in the whole town and there was no way to stop it. How did they stop it? Amy said by the time she got upstairs, the alarm wasn't going off anymore.) She came up, turning on lights and made sure both cars were still here and no windows were broken. DeRay clarified that he didn't manually lock the back door; he just pushed the automatic lock on the key, which is what I had done. Every door was locked except the left rear door. I've looked in the garbage cans and in the bushes but they could have chucked it anywhere. No value to them. Creeps.
     I feel a little less safe tonight.
     Different. Violated.
     I've lost lots of things but this is the first time I've been robbed.
     Except for the motorhome break-in in Boston while we were on the Freedom Trail.
     

Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes

     I've been blogging for six years now and have nine followers; only two of whom actually follow me.  A good blogger would have hundreds by now, increasing each day, like Julie in Julie and Julia. You remember, Julia Child's story of her start in the cooking profession intertwined with blogger Julie Powell's 2002 challenge to cook all the recipes in Child's first book.

     Since I have no new followers and most of the ones I have don't follow and I still keep blogging, I have concluded that I evidently like to talk to myself.

     It's therapeutic, you know.

     So here's a chronicle on the body's ability to heal itself. As I've mentioned before, when you finally get old and wise and have learned from your experiences, no one wants to listen to you because you're old, forgetful, and useless.

     I remember complaining about one knee early on in aerobics at the old Deseret Gym in Ogden close to 30 years ago.  "When are you going to do something about your knee?" Joyce would ask. Then the other one went bogus so now I don't know which one started acting up first. As my flexibility became more and more limited and the pain kept me awake at night, I started thinking of solutions. Yip. Bone on bone. You need knee replacement. Yeah, after I've tried everything else. 

     The first thing I did was get injections in the knee. "Totally covered on Medicare." Sure. We went to American Fork something like nine times and it wasn't totally covered on Medicare and they billed us for we don't know what. All you can do is pay. And I saw not one iota of change. Of course, you have to do it every six months or something. Sure. Keep doing something that doesn't work.

     My next quest was for laser treatment. "Never have surgery." $7,000. Best laser west of the Mississippi. We got thinking about that overnight and decided we wanted out. No way. We signed. Eventually, we got out for $800. He has since been investigated for frauding older clients; making false promises. We found another chiropractor who did more for $900. Most of the treatment was nice and pleasant except when he tried to adjust my knees; but truthfully, I could detect no improvement.

     I started thinking more and more about knee replacement. In fact, the pain was so intense and my movement so limited that I pretty much thought about it all the time. I gave up walking. Going up and down stairs was a killer. I kept swimming and biking.

     Then at DeRay's sibling retreat in Vegas three years ago, his brother Ron talked me into taking Joint Pills, vitamins and other supplements that are designed to help the body restore itself. Ron says it has the capability. 

     After two years, I didn't think about having knee replacement anymore. I still had some pain and restrictions but it's livable. I used a heating pad to help me sleep at night and just sort of learned what I could and couldn't do. I still don't like to walk but when Amy talks me into driving to the hollow and walking about a mile by the stream in the trees, I'm always glad I did it.

     Ron says our bodies are like roads; there always needs to be construction going on somewhere so I try not to get discouraged. I now believe the body has amazing restorative capabilities.

     When we went to the gym in Ogden, Ed and I always did the weight machines but since we have been going to Clearfield, we haven't started. One day when Amy went with us, she talked us into trying it out. "Even if you only do it for ten minutes, it will help you." Oh my goodness, at first my knees and shoulders hurt more but as we continued with the machines three days a week, eventually I realized that I have less pain at night; and sometimes I have no pain at all.  The machines that had been there all along, added the finishing touches to my knee saga. I still walk up the stairs like an old lady, but then I am an old lady. Eighty in less than a month.

     It's probably a combination of the supplements, the strengthening machines, my daily stretches and trike rides; and swimming three times a week. I'm feeling pretty positive about the healing powers of my own body.

     With gratitude.

     Good night, Jeanette.    

Sixty Long Years We've Been Married

The evolution of a marriage.

September 7, 1956

One year later - I still fit in my wedding dress. - 1957

Two years later - I still fit in my wedding dress. - 1958

Four years later - 1960

Five Years later - in our first home after four years of schooling and working,
I still fit in my wedding dress. - 1961

Seven years later - oops! - 1963

 Ten Years Later with Grandma and Grandpa Pugh
Jeanette, Jeanne, Brent, and DeRay - 1966

With Grandma Esplin and Uncle Ed
DeRay, Jeanette, Brent, and Jeanne

Twenty-five years later. Nauvoo.
Brent, Jeanette, Jeanne, Eddy, Amy, Brooke - 1981

Jeanette, Eddy, Jeanne, Brooke, Brent, Amy - Church and Country Historical Trip in Motor Home

Silver Wedding Anniversary

September 5 - Brent came home from BYU to finish out season w/Lagoon Show Band and perform at Utah football game in Salt Lake City. Mom & Dad left in motorhome for Silver Wedding Anniversary Spree to Utah County. Returned home Monday, September 7. September 8, admitted Eddy to Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful. Missed two weeks of school. (Norm for every time we left, even overnight.)

Brooke, Brent, Jeanne

Jeanette, Amy Lyn, DeRay, Eddy - 1983

Brent, Amy Lyn, Brooke, Jeanne

Eddy, Jeanette, DeRay - 1989

Golden Wedding Anniversary

2006

Amy, Jan, Brent, Brooke, Elizabeth, Eddy

Jonathan, Jeanette, Isaak, DeRay, Brigitte,

Klarissa, Naomi, Amanda, Karlton

60th Wedding Anniversary
Ten Years Later
Bonnie & Clyde?

Uhh uhh uhh

You ready B? Let's go get 'em.
(Note the Tommy Gun!)

Just Kidding.

We're harmless as fuzzy kittens.
(And I don't fit in my wedding dress,
even though a friend who borrowed it,
extended all the seams.)

Out to dinner in Bill and Margo's restored vintage '36 Cadillac.
I think it's rather rude they call something born in 1936 "vintage" and "antique".

The best part: Amy paid!

Notes: I lived in three towns before I was married: Orderville, Salt Lake City, and Cedar City. Since we've been married, I've lived in Salt Lake City, Orem, Layton, Farmington, West Layton, Bountiful, Kaysville, Fruit Heights and St. George. OK. So it's all in the same state. It took just as much effort to move. The packing and unpacking are the hard part - the distance inbetween is no work. Just a ride.

A Wedding Anniversary isn't anything like a Wedding Day.  Ed and I went to the gym to swim and do weights while DeRay bottled 14 quarts of Chunky Tomato Ketchup. We rode trikes and picked tomatoes and peaches before we left.  Also, washed and hung on the line a batch of whites. Dropped peaches off for Sylvia on the way. (Sylvia will be 96 in a month.  She canned 18 quarts of peaches by herself). Granddaughter Klarissa stopped by to say "Hi" with some running mates from Davis High. Brent called to wish us a Happy Anniversary. Suzanne and Clare emailed congratulations. To end the day, DeRay and I watched "Manchurian Candidate".  The 2004 version of this political-thriller with Meryl Streep and Denzel Washington. One last thing before going to bed, he cut my toenails--a tangible sign of true and enduring love. 

A perfect day.    

Pen Pals 2

     Daddy was out on the Arizona Strip shepherding his sheep during the winters of 1945, 1946, and 1947. He wrote letters to Mama and each of his seven then eight children. (Daddy always wrote with an indelible pencil.)

Upside down: Jeanette - some of your letters haven't got names on the outside because I couldn't find a place to write it.

     Mama, working full time as Orderville's Post Master, wrote weekly to each of her eight children. DeLoy has carried on her tradition, writing each week to each of his children and all his brothers and sisters and perhaps others. How am I to know who unknown recipients are? The difference is, Mama hand wrote each letter. DeLoy types one letter and sends it to all. Don't we live in a wonderful age? My sister, Shirley, has been a legendary letter-writer through the years. In the early years, she typed but as she got older she enjoyed writing hand-written notes.

Orderville, Utah

June 26, 1973

Good Morning Pughs, - I staid out and weeded until I got soaking wet with sweat, so decided it was time to quit.  I have all my garden weeded and over half of Nan’s, so I guess I’ll let her finish and I will work on my flower garden tonight.  Now between the next watering turns I hope I don’t have to weed.  Some of our tomato plants are dieing of the wilt, so maybe it is a good thing I did get more than everyone thot I needed.  I’m sure I’ll have plenty for you Folks so bring your bottles down and I’ll fill them for you.

We had Ward Conference Sunday – and I surely enjoyed it – wish you all could have been here.  Pres. Washburn is surely a man of faith.  He said being active in the Church and active in the Gospel is two different things.  He mentioned repentance, studying scripture and fasting and praying for someone a different day than the Lord’s designated Fast Sunday.  So I guess we wouldn’t of needed to wait until Fast Sunday to have our Special day for Travis, of course, this is alright too.  I have notified all the Family so it will be first Sunday in July.

I just stopped and took a mess of peas to Mr. Gentle.  I saw his car down by the store.  I had my first mess last Sunday.  Wish you Folks were here to have some.

Mrs Porter and I are going visiting teaching this afternoon at one; it will be a hot walk.

I hope you all keep well.  Kiss Brooke and Travis for Grandma.

Love, Mom

Orderville Ut.

Aug. 13, 1973

Dear Pughs –

How was the camping trip?  Did you all get back safe and sound?  How come you didn’t come to beautiful Southern Utah?  I thot we were going to get a chance to go up on the mountain yesterday and have dinner, but Stanley thot he was too busy with the water.  Lucy had asked him to bring me up as they were spending the weekend up there.  I really think he’d get a better dinner if Grandma fixed it, don’t you Effie?  I guess she is with you, or did she find a way to go home?

We had a real good meeting last night.  Dr. Roberts and a Crosby from Kanab were our Home missionaries.  They talked a lot on missionary work; and both are very good speakers.

It is the Fair this week and I wish Brent and Jeanne were here to see what a Country Fair is like.  They’d have fun, and then Grandma would have someone to go with.

Don’t send me any bottled stuff down – I got a few apricots and made some nectar; I have a feeling I’ll visit you often enough that I’ll eat and drink my share of it up there.  I don’t even need the pint bottles, as I don’t know what I’d put in them.  I just don’t empty enough bottles to have any to fill, I’ll fill your doz. Qt. Bottles with grape juice – if I can beat the birds to them. I am bottling a few apples to-day that I picked up from our trees up home –

I haven’t been to Cedar yet to pick out the Wall-Tex, maybe when things slow down a bit I’ll get over there.

Aunt Leona has been a little better the last day or two.  I haven’t heard this morning.

I’m glad Brooke is getting better from his fall – I thot maybe he was outside and fell on something.

How is Joe’s romance coming?  I’m afraid if they wait too long, they will decide too many Kids won’t mix.

I can’t read this note on both sides, so guess I’d better quit.

Be sure and come down –

Love, Mom

Please send me the bill on the Walltex and everything else I owe you.

Orderville, Ut.

Oct. 1, 1973

Happy Birthday Jeanette, - Come on down and we will celebrate your birthday together, it doesn’t take long for one year to pass by, does it?  It seems to me the birthdays pile right on top of each other – especially when you realize you are getting right along in years.  I really don’t think I’d feel as old as I do, if I didn’t know how many years I have lived.

Make yourself a cake; or have DeRay buy one of the icky ones at the Bakery and really celebrate.  I’ll be thinking of you.

It’s a pretty Monday morning, a bit on the chilly side – but I’m sure the sun will have us all warmed up before long.  I turned my furnace up for awhile – but decided I’d get tough and not turn it on until it got colder; or I would be a softie when cold weather really did come.  It hasn’t frozen a thing here yet, and we still don’t have any storm –

Some of the people have started to pick their apples.  I have never saw apple trees with so much fruit on.  I keep thinking I’m going to take a picture of some of the trees – but I just don’t get around to it; some of the apples have started to fall and the ground is just covered with apples under the trees.  Everyone ought to have all the apples they want to eat this winter, that is if we were all our “Brother’s Keeper”.

I hope you go up to the Galloways and got some tomatoes.  Verla says her bottles are full and she still has tomatoes.  I keep emptying out my old fruit so I still have a dozen qts left for apples.  Eva is going to give me a bushel of greenings.  Do you want me to get you some down here and have DeRay take them up at deer season time?

Hope you are all over your colds and not working so hard; take time out to relax and enjoy life and that beautiful home you live in and each other.

Love to All of You – seems like when it gets Fallish weather, I get lonesome to see all of you.

Mom

Speaking of birthdays, I don’t want you to send me a present – as I will accept all the work DeRay has done on the house this summer as one.  Thank You.

Orderville, Utah

Oct. 9, 1973

Dear Pughs, I have just come from Relief Society and am waiting for Carol to come so we can go teaching – I hate to go just when it is dinner time for everyone but Carol is on split shift at the store – so we go when she can. 

Did you read in the paper about Aunt Amy Stark dying – they had her Services here yesterday – they were real good.  I think my faith and testimony is strengthened more from some of the funeral services I have attended than any other way – I have heard my best Sermons there.  It was good seeing some of my relatives I haven’t seen for a long time.  There weren’t too many to the Services – I guess when anyone had lived 92 years, not too many of the younger generation know them; course I think they should go as a social obligation.

Later:  We have just got back from visiting teaching – I wish there was some way you could go teaching, Jeanette; these lessons are so good, and I’m sure they always help me more than the ones I visit; seems like they all give me a peace of mind that I can’t get any other way.

I’m sorry to hear about Travis’ eyesight – every night I pray for a special blessing to be with him that he will have good eyesight and that he will mature into a healthy and strong boy in body and mind – I’m sure he was put on this earth for a special purpose; and that he will be a blessing to all of us, and I’m sure in a way that someday we will understand – If you ever need me to help in any way, just let me know.  I am sure too that all the families care a lot more than you think they do.  Sometime we are kind of hesitant because we don’t know what to say or do.  I think you Folks have been chosen as Parents of little Travis on account of your understanding hearts and ability; and how great will be your reward if you prove yourself faithful and strong.

I guess Brent will have to be Jeanne’s tutor, and show a lot of brotherly Love and help with her lessons and teach her how to be a good student.  I’ll bet by the end of this school year, she will be the best one in her class; and will soon learn how to apply herself to studying – sometimes it just take longer for some people.  I’m sure I was never the most brilliant one in school neither.  I often wondered where my Kids got all their educational ability.

. . .a man made problem; and far more serious than the problems our Heavenly Father gave to little Travis to make us grow and mature in the Gospel.

It froze our tomato vines here a few nights ago too.  I hate to have all my pretty flowers freeze and I hate wintertime to come.

Hope you all keep well and happy.

Love, Mom

Daddy died May 1947; Mama died May 1977.

                                                        When Eddy started talking he let us know that

he did not like the name "Travis".

He liked Ed, his middle name,

so we started calling him Ed or Eddy.

When we changed our last name from Pugh to Hugh,

we changed his name to Edward Travis Hugh

instead of Travis Edward Pugh.
(And his Grandpa Pugh never forgave us.)

While we were at it,

we changed DeRay's name

to DeRay Clarence Hugh

from Clarence DeRay Pugh.

I was the only one who didn't have to get a new birth certificate.

Pen Pals

When I grew up, we didn’t have telephones or television but we kept abreast of the world through letter writing. We had cousins, uncles, brothers and friends in both world wars and the Korean Conflict; many of whom also served missions.

In elementary school, somehow, our teachers connected us to penpals near and far. I may have been the only one in my class to write more than one letter. Two of these penpals I corresponded with for years and their names are indelibly imprinted in my memory.

My first penpal was Lavina Woodlands from Capetown South Africa. Her parents were English, she was privileged, and said strange things like “I won prize first”. We always planned to meet.

The second was Alice Jolley from Tropic, Utah; a town about 40 miles from my hometown of Orderville, tucked in the shadows of Bryce Canyon.  I didn’t remember ever having met her but when I heard her name at the Visitors’ Center in Nauvoo and we visited, she said we had seen each other once when we were in high school.  I sort of remember a tall, slender girl I met at an exchange assembly.

Childhood Penpals Meet April 22, 1996, in Nauvoo

Alice Jolley Allen & Jeanette Esplin Hugh

She has six kids, innumerable grandchildren.  She must have divorced her first husband and then taken care of him when he died because he just died two years ago and she has been married to this man, who is a convert to the church, for six years.  I told DeRay we couldn't go on a mission because everyone we met was on their second marriage.  This would be such a rewarding place to begin a new marriage after a life of hard knocks and bruises, losing mates through death or divorce, and the struggles of rearing a righteous family.

Diary January 4, 1954: I really keep busy nowdays writing letters. I write about twice a week to Ken Esplin who is on a mission in North Dakota; Robert Redus, my wonderful penpal from Katy, Texas; and Doug Maxwell, who is in the army.  He is stationed in Japan.  Then there’s daily DeRay, but he is home now (on furlough).

ROBERT REDUS.

Straight from my Treasures of Truth Book: I am bustling around in the café one day – the Parkway Café – in the summer of ’52 when two young, cute boys sat at the counter and ordered hot cakes. The café is loaded with Indians so I didn’t have time to talk to them. However, I did find out they were FFA boys from Texas. They called to me a “thousand times” to take their money for candy bars. Just as they were leaving, they asked me my name and to save time, I told them. Lloyd Hall and Robert Redus were their names. Since that time, Robert and I have grown to be very good friends. We have written regularly for two years and I have really enjoyed his letters. He is certainly a swell kid. We tell each other all our troubles and we are confidential. Highlight of our friendship was when he and friend Doug Freeman stopped in to see me Saturday June 22, 1954. However – I was all swollen up so they took me to the doctor and I found out I had the mumps. Really felt badly. We could have had so much fun. He’s cute too! And a lot of fun. Robert never forgot to send cards for my birthday and other special occasions. For graduation, he gave me a nice purse and ear rings.

DIARY:  Saturday June 12, 1954: This morning I woke up swollen bigger than ever—first word I heard was that the Texas boys were here.  O, I really felt bad.  I didn’t even want to see them.  I looked so funny.  They came up at 9 and I forced myself to go see them.  It was great!  Robert is the cutest thing and loads of fun; Doug’s a dream too.  They took me to Kanab to the doctor and he told me to get home and get to bed.  I have the mumps.  Gosh, first time I see Robert in years and I have the mumps.  I think he felt almost as bad as I did.  Got a nice letter from his mother.

(Sideline from my diary: June 15, 1954: Well, I lived through another night.  I wonder if Mama, Carol, Verla, and Lynn have told everyone in town how I am today.  These small towns!  Everyone seems to be telling mump stories for some strange reason.  Today I got another letter from DeRay and from the sounds of things he is really enjoying New York. (He is on his way to Germany in the service.)

This was under the Orderville News in the Kane County Standard: Robert Redus and a friend from Katy, Texas, visited with Jeanette Esplin.

Robert and I continued our friendship even after we were both married. He and his wife, Carole, came to see us when we lived in Stadium Village on the University of Utah campus. They showed us the town. We rode on the old wooden roller coaster at Saltair; went on tours of the city and temple square. They came to see us once after they had children when we lived in Orem. We never went to Texas; only time we’ve been there was changing planes. Well, once DeRay drove through there on his way home from the army.  When I was working at Penney’s, whenever anyone said he/she was from Katy, Texas, I always wanted to ask them if they knew Robert Redus.

Friends are so valuable; penpals enlarge your world.

Daddy was my first penpal; Mama was my last.      Stay tuned.

Timpanogos Storytelling Festival September 1-3, 2016

I think I enjoyed watching the grey-haired older people interact, some with hair pulled back in a bun, almost as much as I liked the storytellers. Their congenial smiles as they greeted each other; eyes twinkling; all those wrinkles laughing with carefree abandonment.

“It looked so good,” I say to Amy when we get home, “to see all those old people laughing out loud. You don’t see that much.”

“Do you mean you?” she reminded me. I momentarily had forgotten I’m old.

Amy complained because they had a half-hour break between each session, making it so that even though you are there all day, you only hear five storytellers. Sometimes they have two in an hour but still, in two days, you don’t get to hear them all.

I rather like the long pauses. She takes something to read or listen to. I thought about taking my iPad but hey, I can watch Amazon and play games at home. Here I have people to watch.

They did not disappoint.

Yes, lots of older people--walkers, canes, wheelchairs; unsteady, slow-moving people. I think the Senior Citizen Center or some Retirement Home dropped off a bus load or two. There seemed to be a larger percentage of blind people of all ages than you see in an average population. Handicaps of all kinds, truth be told. Like this is a perfect outing for them. Maybe they all needed to laugh or hear heart-warming stories from days gone by.

Waiting in a long line at the restroom, as usual we were all talking about how there is no line on the men’s side and who designed these confounded things, and where are the women architects? One woman offered to stand at the door, if we wanted to use the men’s side. After we got that all settled to no one’s satisfaction, I asked the woman in front of me where she’s from. “Provo.” “Oh, years ago we lived in Orem. Now we live in Kaysville.” “Do you like Kaysville?” “Yes, but it doesn’t seem like home.” “Where you grew up is the only place that feels like home,” we agreed. “Where did you grow up?” “Tropic – a little town. . .” and she started to explain where it is, like she probably has done a million times before. “I’m from Orderville,” I interrupt. We were kindred spirits. “My good friend has lived in Tropic for years,” I chat. “What is her name?” “Mary Lee Ramsay.” “Oh, I love her. Her husband taught me in school and was my advisor.” Then the stall opened up and she disappeared inside and was gone when I came out. We could have talked about Mary Lee and Clare and I could have told her she was my cousin as well as my friend and we went off to school together. I could have told her I once dated Clare. I could have asked her if she knew Alice Jolley, a pen pal that I corresponded with from elementary school on but didn’t remember meeting until we were back in Nauvoo in 1996, 60 years later. At the Visitor’s Center we were talking to Brother Allen, who said he was from Cedar City, and that his wife was a Jolley from Tropic.

“Alice?” I asked.

We were both so amazed.

But that’s another blog.

My new friend in line for the restroom looked ancient and was walking with a cane – and my friend’s husband taught her in school?

Amy’s right.

I am one of them old people.

Everyone isn't old.

I see this Davis High School track team

t-shirt coming towards and pass me;

"I wonder if he knows Isaak," I thought,

just then spying Brooke and Elizabeth

at the fountain.

Looking back I see  it is Karlton

in Isaak's team t-shirt.

Surprise!