Author: kwundrow

It Ain’t Snowin Where I’m Goin

Posted on by kwundrow

Being retired has its perks. One of the main ones is being able to just pick up and go. This winter hasn’t been terribly cold or terribly snowy but it’s still winter, and that means dreary days and bleak vistas. With winter offering at least two more months of the same, I decided it was time to pick up and go.

We are somewhere over Kansas on our way to California. We used a highly sophisticated process to come up with our destination. It consisted of researching the answers to three key questions. One, where do planes fly to? Turns out everywhere. Two, where is the temperature going to be higher than 60 degrees? Almost anywhere else. And three, where did the dart we threw at the map, land? San Diego. Do planes fly there? Yes. Is it warmer than 60 degrees? Yes. And so, we will have left a forecast calling for three inches of snow and seven below degrees air temperature, not to mention the wind chill, and in five mere hours will trade it for sunshine, ocean views and 65-degree weather.

It is amazing when you think about it, how small and accessible the world has become. Granted, we are not flying across the ocean to some far-off continent, though the passenger behind me will be in New Zealand sometime tomorrow, but we are crossing the U.S. in the span of a couple feature films plus commercials. Pretty cool!

This is why we work. We make a living so that we can enjoy living. Retirement, except for the age thing, is a pretty sweet gig. But having just said that, it begs also to be mentioned that it doesn’t have to wait until retirement. I mean living should happen somehow every day. We can’t take off across the country any old time, but we also don’t have to wait until we’re too old to enjoy it, to do it. Try to live a little every day and then every once and a while, fit in a chance to get away, to explore and to experience life somewhere beyond your own back yard or even better, beyond your office.

This is a bold, almost cavalier statement coming from a former financial planner, but life is like a buffet, a little of this and a little of that, but save room for dessert. We work a little, we save a little and we take some dessert now and then. Be responsible, you do need to save for a retirement at some point but live a little along the way. Maintaining balance is the key.

San Diego is going to be a lot nicer than Madison this week and I checked the weather, no snow!

Arrival San Diego

Should Have Been my First Warning

Posted on by kwundrow

If you have been following me and read my last blog, “It Can be Fixed”, you know that I just finished the Adela chair project. Now it’s on to the next project, framed U.S. wood maps from Marking Maps. (https://www.etsy.com/listing/239724323/marking-maps-usa)
Inspired by my “everything wood” mentor, Larry, I decided I needed some shop supplies. With that in mind, I was off to a local large box hardware retailer, which I will leave unnamed.

First a little background. I am not one to be allowed to wander aimlessly about large stores, just ask my wife. I have a notorious record in grocery stores, see “Adventures in Grocery Shopping”. Now I was walking into another large box store with aisles that seemed to stretch to infinity and beyond, stacked floor to ceiling with merchandise, and all I needed was a few screws and some wood glue.

Never the less, I started my quest. Within a few minutes I knew I was in trouble and without a Sherpa or at least a floor guide, I might be doomed to finding the housewares department and setting up residence. After wandering several aisles with no luck in finding the hardware aisle, I stumbled into or should I say, the floor guide found me. I had run into a helpful woman who asked me what I was looking for. I think she actually asked “have you found EVERYTHING you were looking for?” My response was that I hadn’t found ANYTHING I was looking for and thus the only thing in my hand was the scrap of paper with my meager list of the prey I was hunting.

Looking at my list, she steered me to the first item, wood screws. Miraculously, I seemed I was a mere ten feet from the right aisle, actually two entire aisles of screws. Sheet metal, wood, Phillips head, flat head, star bit, brass, galvanized and of course, lengths from 1/2″ to 5″ and weight sizes from 6 to 12. I impressed my Sherpa by actually knowing the type, length and weight size I was searching for and settled on a box of galvanized, 1″, 10 weight, Phillips head wood screws. I was now ready for item two, wood glue. She looked at me and said with a smile, that would be in aisle 100. Aisle 100, seriously! Looking up at the aisle I was standing in revealed that it was numbered 367. Any chance you offer a store Garmin I asked? For my younger readers, Garmin was my generation’s breakthrough GPS tool back in the dark ages before Navigator. I managed to get solid directions from my Sherpa and headed deeper into the nether reaches of the store, wondering as I ventured, if I should be dropping random screws from my newly procured package in order to find my way back.

Lest this diatribe goes on forever, I am happy to say I eventually found aisle 100 AND my wood glue. After following my trail of screws, I found my way back to the checkout area and somehow picking up at least half a dozen impulse items along the way, paid for my prizes and headed out to the parking lot. Now if only I could remember what aisle I parked in?

Where’s the parking lot Sherpa when you need one?

It Can Be Fixed

Posted on by kwundrow

My two year old granddaughter’s face appeared on my phone before I could even answer. Alligator tears were streaming down her face and clearly something was wrong, something it seemed I was needed to fix. We, her mother on one end of the call and I on the other, eventually got Adela settled down enough to show me the problem. Some thirty-five years ago, I had made a small rocking chair for my daughter. Please understand that other than the fact that it was still in use all these years later, it was not exactly a work of craftsmanship, hardly worth the effort it would require to fix it. It was however, clearly loaded with sentimental value. My granddaughter Adela had now claimed it as her own. But accidents do happen. She had been towing the chair to her downstairs playroom when it found it’s way down the stairs the hard way. She was now showing me her rocking chair with the lower half of the rocker broken off, and thus the tears as she pleaded with her Opa to fix it!

Long story shortened, the chair was just returned to her, fixed, almost good as new! After a trip to the “furniture hospital”, aka my good friend Larry’s unbelievable wood shop, some glue, clamps and a patch, the chair now sits proudly in Adela’s playroom, once again allowing her to rock and coo her babies.

Things can be fixed and there in lies the point of this story. Even though we try our best to be careful, things break. Sometimes they are just that, things. Other times they are much more important, our relationships. When we believe they can’t be fixed, we tend to take the easy route and toss them away. All too often we don’t take the time nor put forth the effort to repair them. But remember, it is only a mistake if we fail to try. If there are things or relationships in your life that are broken, consider this. Look at the problem, consider any possible solution and then put forth the effort, even if it means swallowing your pride, and attack the problem.

It was only a chair, but what it represented for my granddaughter meant the world to her. Thank you Larry for helping me resurrect a crude little rocking chair and thank you Adela for having faith that I could.

How to Bank Points

Posted on by kwundrow

I just returned from a movie, a blockbuster to be sure. I am sure you think I am talking about the latest Star Wars or maybe Uncut Gems or Ford vs. Ferrari. Oh I wish it were so. Let the man shaming begin. It was Little Women and yes I was the only male in the place except maybe for the older gentleman asleep several rows behind me. I had offered my wife a movie date, somehow thinking she would be so excited about the simple gesture that I would get to pick the flick. Sorry guys, as you are probably shaking your head in disbelief, you know that’s not how it works.

So there I was, buying two tickets for Little Women with the cashier clearly rolling his eyes. First question, “Are either of you seniors?” Is that a respect for your elders thing or do they just figure that when you’re old you’re also poor? Next question, “Where would you like to sit?” I desperately wanted to say as far back in the shadows as possible, but I demurred to my date who chose two perfectly placed prominent seats front and center. Proceed to my “thriller”.

At this point, I need to say that things began to improve. Turns out we were in the theater that serves food and more importantly, mixed drinks! This might ease the pain for a movie junkie who thrives on speed, mayhem and science fiction. Cue the movie, authentic historic costuming and historic period set in the Civil War. Maybe, seeing as I am a history minor and enamored with the Civil War Era, I should give this a chance. Cue the leading character Josephine March, aka Louisa May Alcott, and I am immediately identifying with her love for the art of writing as story telling. I hate to say this, but I was starting to ignore the chick flick phobia I was having about this movie.

So, I am ready to say, two hours later I found myself admitting that this was a great film and, deep breath here, glad of the choice my date had made. But here’s the kicker, I think I may have added some bonus points to my oft nearly depleted Love Bank. If there is a moral to this story, it might be worth the time and effort to actually make a bonafide date. She picks the movie,the place or the activity. She gets her hand held and the door opened. And, you say all the appropriate things at all the appropriate times. Okay, good luck with the last one because we men have never been good at that move. So men, follow these steps and know that you will have earned points for the bank and don’t pretend for a moment that you can ever have enough points in that institution.

So that’s it. I wanted Star Wars but I got Little Women and I am a big enough man to admit, it wasn’t half bad. A great Margarita, a comfortable seat and a good movie. Excuse me now, but I have some points I’d like to cash in.

How Big is Your Family?

Posted on by kwundrow

I have been thinking about family a lot recently or I guess reminded a lot. Last weekend we held the funeral for the last remaining sibling of my father’s family of twelve. A week ago my well respected and deeply loved aunt Hazel, passed away a month shy of her 99th birthday. It was a day filled with reunions, stories and celebration of her life. It was surprisingly easy to reconnect with my cousins, some whom I had not seen for years. But, as they say, the years fell away as we shared our stories and caught up with our past.

What struck me more than anything else is the closeness that exists in strong families. I know as I write this there are readers who may have come from less functional families. From families where relationships may have been strained through time and differences. My heart has always gone out to them. I was fortunate enough to come from a family whose bonds were strong and remain strong to this day. That is not to say that there weren’t some relationships that were not as strong as others, but for me to remain as connected as I am to the cousins produced by a family of my father’s size, there must have been more that connected us than just our common blood line.

Families are a dynamic entity. Thus the question, “How big is your family?” Who does the term family encompass? How big is the circle that defines your family? Mother Teresa was once quoted as saying, “The problem with the world is that we draw the circle of our family too small.” Think about that. We spend so much time making our circles smaller, exclusive in their make-up. If we agree on principals, if we share the same beliefs, if we have common friends, then we draw our circle to include these people but not others. If we thought of the people we know, the people we work with, the people we simply interact with as family, then we would have widened our circle. If we then think of them as family, think how much better we would treat each other. Widen the circle. Make it inclusive, not exclusive.

Once we have widen the circle we draw to define our family, then we need to follow by being positive. By loving our circle unconditionally regardless of the differences that might try to separate us. What follows is compassion versus intolerance, unity versus divisiveness. Start to imagine what a better nation, what a better people we could be.

Today I listened to a sermon by our new minister, Heather Hayward and wanted to share an experiment she told us about. The experiment was done with water by Japanese author Masaru Emoto. Emoto experimented with water molecules and the effects of positive and negative words and music on the structure of the crystals they formed. (see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qQUFvufXp4 ) The results were stunning and beautiful when positive words and music were applied. They were confused and in some ways ugly when the opposite was applied. Whether you choose to believe his experiment, the images are impressive. When you consider that the human body is comprised of 60% water, isn’t worth at least trying positive words versus the negative words we are bombarded with daily.

We do not choose our family. We are born into it. But we can choose the people we would treat as family. So I ask you, how big will you draw the circle of your family? Will you make it big enough to include me?
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How will you spend them?

Posted on by kwundrow

Every year I try to think of a way to keep myself and family focused on the excitement of Christmas. This year’s entry was the “Twelve Days Before Christmas”. Each day was a tease aimed at one or more of my family members. Example; 2. “Adela with two pairs of aviators”, a tease of my two year old granddaughter’s insatiable urge to try on sunglasses, often to the chagrin of the person who was supposed to be watching her in the store. For your consideration, I wanted to share with you the final, twelfth day.

On the twelfth day of the twelve days before Christmas , I will give to you ……………………………

12. Twelve hours before midnight and Christmas Day.
What will you do with those final 12 hours? It’s possible that you still have some last-minute preparations like, wrapping the last few gifts, or maybe even getting that one last gift on your list. Maybe it will be preparing your children for the arrival of Santa, putting out the cookies and milk or just hanging the stockings. Maybe you’ll watch a favorite Christmas movie. Some might even have a tradition of trimming the Christmas tree in those last few hours.
Whatever your tradition might be, do it with Christmas in your heart. We celebrate Christmas morning, but we often forget to appreciate the days and eventually the hours leading up to Christmas day and then it’s gone. Celebrate family and traditions. Depending on your beliefs, celebrate the birth of Christ or simply celebrate the season. Somewhere, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle, think of those who have so much less and then appreciate how much you have. Yes, I know how old fashioned that sounds, especially the bustle part, but it is at the heart of this season and so easy to miss. Find a way to give from your resources, even if it is just to be a little more accepting, a little more generous or maybe just a little more thankful for the things you have. Hug your loved ones, hug your children, greet a neighbor or reach out to friends with whom you may have lost touch.
No matter how you spend these last twelve hours before Christmas, slow down, be with the ones who count and enjoy the moments.
Merry Christmas

The Misadventures of a Grandparent

Posted on by kwundrow

This particular Saturday started off pretty average but that was just temporary. My younger daughter, recently engaged, was going dress shopping and she was taking with her my wife and older daughter, my older daughter with the two children. It was decided, though I do not recall being part of the decision-making process, that Opa, aka me, would take care of the babysitting while they shopped. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Jackson, age 5, and Adela, age 2, arrived bright and early, ready for an adventure day with Opa.

It started well, well sort of. Twenty minutes after they left and after I had asked, I swear several times, Adela announced that she had wet her only pair of pants. Quick lesson in how to comfort a two-year-old and do laundry ensued. We all settled back down and things looked better. That is until both Jackson and Adela decided they couldn’t decide on a common movie or a separate toy. With war and bloodshed imminent I decided it was time to intervene.

Road Trip! I strapped Jackson and Adela into my Jeep along with all the necessities a bag could hold and that I might need should this trip go south. “Where are we going” asked Jackson. Having not really thought about that, Cabela’s somehow flew into my head. I figured fish aquarium, stuffed animals, tents, yeah that one doesn’t seem to make sense now that I say it out loud, why wouldn’t this be a great place to kill a few hours.

We arrived with Jackson still asking me why not McDonald’s instead but once we walked through the doors, the wonder of Cabela’s at Christmas took over. Right there at the front door was a massive Christmas tree littered with gifts around its base. Adela struck first. She figured they were there for her and pounced, ready to unwrap. I managed to wedge her free and then distracted her with a game of I spy various animals foraging about in the store. Jackson of course wanted to know why they had all these dead animals on display, displays that clearly said DON’T TOUCH. Guess I should have remembered that Adela doesn’t read and animals are to be petted. As I turned around to check on her, she was of course making friends with a small black bear. This of course alerted the store staff to our presence. I spotted him out of the corner of my eye heading our way and he didn’t look like he was about to ask if I needed help finding the perfect outdoors man gift. I snatched up Adela and headed to another department leaving the staff person relieved.

Next stop, the aquarium. I suppose tapping on the glass broke yet another store rule but as Jackson pointed out the fish seemed to like it. Adela decided to go one better and decided to kiss the fish through the glass. Enter yet another staffer. We quickly made our escape and headed back toward the front of the store. I swear I saw the staff person speaking into her wrist like they do on those FBI shows. I can only assume she was saying something like “They’re on the move. We need eyes on a lack of control grandpa with two kids in the guns and ammo department.”

We had indeed wound up in guns and ammo and I knew in an instant not a place for a two- and five-year-old let alone how their mother might view this shameful disregard for appropriate care and handling of young impressionable minds. We kept moving. This brought us somehow to the toy’s aisle. Yes there are toys in Cabela’s and no, I have no idea why it is next to guns and ammo. But to Jackson and Adela’s sheer delight, we were there. To his credit, Jackson began having me make a list of the toys he would like me to recommend to his parents. Adela, being a little more deliberate, was piling them up at the end of the aisle. I am sure you are asking yourself how she could keep getting away from my jurisdiction. Have you ever spent time with a five-year-old asking questions? They can distract the best of us and meanwhile a two-year-old moves a lot faster and stealthier than you think. And of course, we had a new staff person standing guard nearby. We got all the toys put back and I gave a subtle nod to the staffer as we passed by.

At this point I was rethinking my entire modus operandi. I was looking for the straightest path to the front doors. I spied my break but one more department stood in our path, sunglasses. These were the expensive kind of sunglasses. The kind movie stars apparently wear when hunting wild animals. But we were moving and I was optimistic for success when Jackson found a compass and wanted an in-store demonstration of how this “watch” worked. I swear it could not have been more than thirty seconds and I heard “hey Opa” from behind me. Turning around, there was Adela modeling a pair of $200 plus aviators, the price tag still hanging from the frames, and I have to say, she was killing it! Just over her shoulder, moving at a fair clip came the sunglasses clerk, wrist already up to her mouth calling in reinforcements. “Adela”, I declared. “We can look but we can’t touch.” Probably should have thought of that earlier. To my sweet and innocent granddaughter’s credit, she removed the glasses, folded them up and politely returned them to their little cubicle. I, with my hands in the air, greeted the clerk and said “see, no harm, no foul.” Adela batted her eyes, twisted her hair and the clerk relented. What else could she do when

 

faced with all that charm. She gave me one last stern look and asked if we were nearly done shopping. I took that as the warning it was meant to be, hung my head and rounded up my charges.

At this point, we had amassed a lot of staff time, though I believe it was good training and maybe for a couple of them, birth control, but no merchandise. I looked at Jackson and told him we probably should buy something out of consideration. Jackson choose a $1.99 bag of licorice, we paid the cashier, and to the relief of many, we took our leave.

Now I am a former teacher and well aware that there should be a lesson learned from all of this, so here it is. Though a hunting and camping store may not be the best grandchild environment, it does make for a great story.

 

Lost and Found

Posted on by kwundrow

We all lose things. Some big, some small. And of course it’s never complete without someone asking the classic question, “where did you lose it?” Would it actually be lost if I knew the answer to that question? That said, our family seems to own the record on losing things, like phones, wallets, coins, rings and yes, keys. In the midst of this, it has usually been me that finds them. Even though my family members didn’t know where they lost them, I seemed to have known where they did. My secret, think like I’m the item lost and then ask myself where would I have tried to make my escape.

Yesterday, it was my turn to lose something. While traipsing through fields of Christmas trees, searching for the perfect one, I managed to lose my car keys. Of course, that hadn’t become apparent until we headed to the car, ready to load our trees. It was a family outing and all three families had cut trees. There I stood, all eyes on me as I frantically searched every pocket of my pants, sweatshirt and coat for what I immediately knew wasn’t there. Now this isn’t the first time I have lost my keys, If you read my blogs you will remember an episode on a trip to Seattle; see “Angels Among Us”.

It was my wife who issued the obvious question, “where did you lose them?” And at that moment I definitely was wishing I knew. Time to begin retracing my steps. There was that point where I pulled my gloves out of my coat, but no. Then it was probably when I laid down to cut the tree. That meant finding the right spot and the exact stump, but even when I did, still no. So how about when I trudged back out to the field to find my grandchildren. Could I have dropped them when I picked up Adela. Yeah, no. Well, I carried her what seemed like a mile, so let’s back track through that trek. No luck. Maybe when we climbed on board the hay wagon for our ride back, no help. At this point things were looking bleak but at least I was getting my steps in.

Now you would have thought I’d have started with lost and found. Of course I didn’t, but we did eventually head to the cute and cozy gift shop. You maybe thought this is where the story would end. And for that moment, I had you. Gift shop, no luck either. Time to split up. Eli takes our path out to the field. Kathryn heads for the play area where Adela and I had visited earlier. John heads for the tree bundling area. Bailey takes the high ground and watches the kids in the warm environs of the gift shop. Her claim later was that she had total faith in my finding them, the logic of a math teacher. And me, I had one last ditch place to check.

I saw her there in her bright yellow jacket and thought why not. As I walked by her workstation at the tree shaker, I asked, with desperation in my voice, “Any chance you found some keys?” And to my amazement and relief she replied, “Oh, I did but I haven’t turned them in yet.” As she reached in her pocket, I just knew they were going to be mine. And they were.

If there is a message in this story, and there are many, the one that seems to stick out, never stop looking, even when you think you looked everywhere. Patience IS a virtue. Of course, asking the girl in the yellow coat before walking a couple of miles might have been a good one too.

It’s Been a while

Posted on by kwundrow

If you are one of my avid followers, I apologize for going so long without a blog piece. Lots of optimism in that statement, I mean I hope you are avid readers. Sometimes I just get distracted while other times I have too many ideas and none of them actually make it to my blog. As an example, I had really intended to do a piece about diners. You know the old sit at the counter and enjoy that breakfast kind. The ones with old time menus on a blackboard that remind you a good breakfast used to cost 25 cents a lifetime ago. I even visited one of my favorite ones, Willalbys, and took pictures I fully intended to post. But then I got so involved in all the things that made it a favorite haunt and never wrote the blog. But I sure did enjoy the breakfast and the conversations.
Willalbys

Life’s been like that. Trying to keep caught up on all the activities and people who have crept into my life lately, has stolen my free time. Not that any of it has been bad, just busy. People too often come into and out of our life and it is important to take the time to guarantee that the time between is well spent. I want to believe I’ve been doing just that.
Dinasaurs
So here has been my dilemma. As Thanksgiving and Christmas approach, I have been searching for a way to get away from all of the political turmoil swirling around our Country, all the divisiveness it has created, and not least of all, the general pessimism and cynicism that has come about because of it. To somehow escape with out getting caught up in the argument has been my quest. I do have strong opinions but I recognize both the right and the unavoidable fact that others will have equally strong opinions that butt up against mine. And so I choose to express my opinions at the voting booth where I appreciate my right to privacy and my chance to exert my will. Please don’t lose faith in me when I don’t use my blog to exert my will.

I have instead decided to immerse my self in the season. I will sit with my family this Thursday and express to them how thankful I am for their presence in my life. I will remind them that I am the collective of not only my parents’ and grandparents’ perspectives but included in my personal DNA is the imprint they have had on my character. The great thing about life is that it gives us daily opportunities to take from the interactions we have with the people around us, the ability to grow and even change . I will remind them that they have helped me grow and when I needed, to change.
Adela and Jackson
I have also decided that I will make every effort to make this Christmas special for the people around me. I want Christmas to be more than that one day of opening gifts, some we really wanted and others we only needed, you know, the socks and underwear. I want Christmas to be the joy of the season, the traditions and the sharing of a spirit that lifts us to be better than we have been, to be more than just present, maybe even a force. I want it to be the twelve days of Christmas, the twelve days before and for that matter the twelve days that follow. Maybe then it will become a spirit and a drive that can last the whole year through. I want people who matter to me to know that they matter to me. I want all the noise to go away and to have it replaced with a peaceful quiet like that of falling snow. I want the Season to wash over us and leave us refreshed.
Falling Snow

Maybe, just maybe, with a little luck and a lot of effort, I can quiet the noise of the evening news and replace it with Thanksgiving thanks and Christmas joy. Even if for just a month. This Thanksgiving and Christmas know that I care about you deeply and wish you the very best this Season has to offer.

Walking with the Spirits…a tourist in your own city

Posted on by kwundrow

Yesterday dawned cloudy and downright cold for the season. The skies gave way to rain to further dampen our spirits. Several weeks ago, my wife and I had purchased tickets to attend the Talking Spirits Walk in Forest Hills Cemetery sponsored by the Wisconsin Veterans Museum. The walk was to begin later in the evening and the rain and cold were definitely testing our resolve. Eventually, we decided we should go. We bundled up, donned rain gear and grabbed our umbrellas.

Forest Hills Spirit Walk

The walk, guided by a volunteer from the Veteran’s Museum, began just inside the main gates to the cemetery. The now light drizzle and darkness actually added to the mystery of the stroll through the Civil War sections of the cemetery. The cemetery was founded in the 1850’s and replaced the existing city cemetery located of all places on Bascom Hill located in the center of the University of Wisconsin. As we walked up the drive, softly lit by the hundreds of luminaries lining its edges, we were treated to the history of this famous cemetery and its peaceful residents now interred throughout the grounds.

We eventually reached the first vignette and waited, anticipating the arrival of our spirits. We were standing in front of what is called Soldiers Rest. Before us lay softly illuminated, the graves of some 140 Union soldiers. Before long, Mrs. Cordelia Harvey emerged from the graves and took her seat on the bench. She spoke of her husband, the late Governor Louis Harvey, who had perished by drowning during the Civil War. Her grave side soliloquize laid out the history of the era and the story of her husband’s untimely death while visiting the Union soldiers fighting down in Tennessee. As her story unfolded, another spirit emerged from the dark recesses of the graves. It was her husband, Louis Harvey. As their conversation evolved, we were drawn into their unrequited love for each other and the story of their lives cut short by his death. We were hooked. Rain and cold be damned, this was worth the effort.

Our walk through the cemetery last night afforded us three more opportunities to hear the stories, told by their spirits, of several very influential Madisonians and their impact on the city in its early period of growth. We met Benjamin Butts, an adopted Tennessee slave who became the barber of the Governors of Wisconsin. We chatted with Napoleon Bonaparte Van Slyke, a New York immigrant who became a prominent Madison businessman, Alderman and UW Regent. Among his accomplishments were the founding of the Forest Hills Cemetery and the Dane County Bank. We finished our walk with the specter of William Vilas, father of Henry Vilas Jr and founder of the park and zoo dedicated as a memorial to his son. Of the four vignettes, William Vilas’ was definitely the most moving. We felt his pride and grief and were pulled back in time as his story unfolded.

As we left the cemetery, we knew how sorry we would have been had we left the weather keep us away. We had a new understanding and respect for the role these people played in a tragic and yet exciting period in Madison’s history. In our hour and a half journey through the cemetery, we had been enlightened, moved and entertained by the spirits we met. We will soon be paying a daytime visit to Forest Hills to view and touch the grave stones of these famous people with a new found respect for their history.

This piece is meant to be a big shout out to the organizers of this event and an invitation to my readers to experience it for yourself. Even if not through another similar event, find time to just visit the cemetery and take a stroll through its beautiful and peaceful setting. Napoleon Van Slyke will certainly be pleased and maybe, if you are very quiet and the timing is right, you might just meet his spirit there beneath the trees surrounding his final resting place.