Because I was raised as a desert rat, whenever I was around a body of water, I’d toss stones into it and then watch in fascination as the ripples spread outward from where the stone had broken the surface of the water. It’s recently come to my attention that similar ripples come from writing this blog.
For example, someone recently mentioned that he was closing out 2024 with 480,000 steps, and that part of what had encouraged him was reading about my own walking experience in the blog. By the way, I’m writing this one on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve with a step count of … I thought I’d be just over 29,000,000 and 13,000 some miles. That was the amount when my phone started counting in 2017. Last night, however, just before I went to bed, for some reason my phone asked if I wanted to add in the rest of my walking history which included those first steps taken way back in the Fitbit era. Turns out I’m currently at 38,433,313 steps and 18,258 miles. And still walking, but that’s another story, and this is definitely what Mrs. Medigovich, my senior English teacher at Bisbee High School would have called, “Going off on a tangent.” When you were writing an essay for her, tangents were a no-no. Fortunately she’s not around to grade me on this one.
In 2020, I heard of the passing of another of my teachers from BHS. Richard Guerra came to Bisbee as a beginning teacher in 1960. He was my Latin teacher for two years in a row. In Latin Two, when we were all getting less than wonderful grades, he offered us extra credit for writing a research paper. Mine was on a guy named Servius Tullius, one of the five kings of Rome, who started out as a slave and ended up being king. (I’ve always been a sucker for rags-to-riches stories.) When I got the paper back there was an A+ written in red pencil at the top of the first page. At the bottom of the last page, also in red pencil, were the following life-changing words: Research worthy of a college student! As a sophomore in high school, that was the first time anyone had ever hinted to me that I might be smart enough to go on to college, and I grabbed that little piece of encouragement and held onto it for dear life.
Once I knew Mr. Guerra had passed away, I was sad that I had never managed to thank him in person, but wanted to share with others the huge impact he had had on my life. A year or so after writing the post A Teacher Remembered, I heard back from one of Richard Guerra’s seven siblings. One of his nieces or nephews had come across my piece and passed it along to the rest of his family. For all I know, Mr. Guerra’s ripple is still moving.
This week I encountered another ripple from even longer ago. In November of 2013, when we were in Tucson for the winter, I was invited to do two separate library events in early November. I have no idea which libraries were on the schedule at the time, but in late October and in advance of going to those, I wrote a blog entitled Libraries and Me, telling a story that started with the school library at Bisbee’s Greenway elementary.
When I was in the sixth grade, Billy Caldwell, a boy a year older than I was, passed away from a childhood heart ailment which had plagued him his whole life. He was smart as a whip but out of school more than he was in attendance due to his health. His family and mine belonged to Bisbee’s Warren Community Church, and I remember him coming to Sunday school on those occasions when he was well enough to do so. His parents were part of Bisbee’s upper crust. His father owned a local drugstore. In lieu of flowers, his parents suggested people make donations to buy books for the Greenway School Library, and his mother, Eula, a former teacher, made it her business to purchase the books, and her choices were wonderful.
By the time I was in seventh grade and eighth grade, there was a plaque on the wall of the Greenway School Library with Billy’s name inscribed on it. Underneath that plaque were two metal shelves stocked with more than a hundred books. They weren’t necessarily the books that the educational establishment thought kids should be reading at the time. Instead, they were the kinds of books Billy had loved to read—the Hardy Boys, Tom Swift, Nancy Drew, the Dana Girls, Judy Bolton. In eighth grade, when, instead of spending time in the classroom, I spent hours each day checking books in and out of the library. I can assure you, the shelves under Billy Caldwell’s plaque were almost always empty because the kids loved those books exactly the same way Billy had.
So imagine my surprise when, earlier this week, I heard from the son of Billy Caldwell’s older sister, Darrel Frost. Darrel was only four at the time of his uncle’s death and living miles away in another mining town called Globe, so he has no memory of Billy himself. Recently, while looking up his uncle’s obituary—Billy Caldwell, Bisbee, Arizona, Darrel stumbled across my blog post from October 2013. His grandmother was actually staying at her daughter’s home when the terrible news came that Billy had passed away. According to Darrel, his grandmother collapsed upon hearing what had happened and never recovered from the loss of her son. Billy Caldwell actually died on the operating table of Dr. Richard Debakey. Until hearing from Darrel, I had no idea that Billy’s folks had gone to a world-famous heart surgeon and signed on for experimental surgery in hopes of finding help for their son’s congenital heart ailment.
Sixteen years ago or so, our son-in-law, Jon, signed on as Patient # 6 for a melanoma T-cell protocol. It gave him another two years of life, and those two years gave us our grandson, Colt. Not only that, treatments growing out of that original protocol mean that now a melanoma diagnosis is no longer an automatic death sentence. I’m equally sure that although Billy Caldwell’s experimental surgery wasn’t a success, what happened in the operating room that day has helped countless others by contributing to the beginnings of the kinds of life-save heart surgery treatments that exist today.
In that past several days, Darrel Frost and I have exchanged several interesting emails discussing our mutual experiences of growing up in small mining towns in the American West.
Who know what other ripples will happen as a result of my writing this blog? It’ll be interesting to see.
A trip down memory lane is such a pleasant experience with you at the helm, JA. That teacher was write-on (pun intended). When you’re our age—70’s, 80’s and beyond, remembering lets us know how exciting and wisdom-enhancing life is. Thanks for all you do. <3
When our grandkids visited us in 2017 we took them to visit places in Arizona like the Grand Canyon, Lowell’s Observatory, Slide Rock, Tombstone and Bisbee. While in Bisbee we stayed at the Copper Queen in Billy’s Room. Billy’s ghost was supposed to be there. I’m wondering if this is the same Billy.
Thank you for this amazing story.
We are part of your rippling pattern … as the Yumans in blog, “Sooner, Dear.”
Every Friday, I check the email for your blog. If I squirrel, by 11:00, Hubs will ask if I received it yet. We read it together.
We also enjoy the conversations shared by other blog readers. Being homebound, our Fridays have a much larger horizon to look toward. Thank
you.
Ripple on…
Thank you for reminding me of the Sooner Deer blog. I looked it up and reread it. Reminded me of my folks, and that was a good feeling on this rainy, gray morning. Thanks for that re-ripple!
What I’ve concluded after reading this blog is that we are all connected in some way. We may never know whose life we touch, but it happens. I think it is a blessing.
Your blogs are so insightful and a joy to read. I loved this one and your “ripples” theory. I do believe we do have effects like that. You touch so many people with your words that the ripples are endless. Much like the authors of old, your words will continue to touch and create those ripples forever. I am so glad that those ripples touched me. I look forward to every evening picking up your book and delving into that day’s story. Thank you so much for your word “ripples.”
As usual, a wonderful walk down memory lane with you.
For those of your readers here, who have not met you in person, I just want to say what a gracious and generous person you are. I had the privilege of meeting with JA last August. It was, and remains, the highlight of my year. Thank you again.
Three weeks ago just as I was turning out the lights to go to bed for the night, I got a text from my brother, “Five years ago this hour, I underwent open heart surgery.” (He did not add the next memory I had–48 hours later our 95-year-old mother died in a hospital across town.) During the intervening 5 years, we have lost others to various conditions, but my brother survived two bouts of Covid during the next nine months. He is still here because of the information gained by the thoughtful medical personnel who made discoveries while treating their patients.
A HAPPY NEW YEAR to you Judy. Here is a ripple effect just for you. The very day Covid hit here in Nova Scotia, back in 2020, I started to reread at breakfast all of the books that I collected by your very talented hand. Yes, I have read every single novel on Joanna Brady and of course all of Mr. Beaumont and Ms. Reynolds. As I am the early riser in our home, we had breakfast together each and every morning and I have not missed a single day, even if we travelled. So at 77 years of age, and a bad knee, reading is my walking…lol. So I count over 1800 days of being with you and enjoying every single page. I wish you A HAPPY NEW YEAR and many more novels. All the best. Alex from Fuller Brush Land.
You keep reading, and I’ll keep walking and writing.
I firmly believe in ripples…
As a kindergarten teacher for many years I am well aware of ripples. You just never know where a simple action will lead. One of my favorite teaching stories is of a little guy I had in my class my first year of teaching. He did not speak a word of English starting school. But he came everyday and always sat right in front of me, watching and listening and learning. He was speaking English by the end of the school year and went on to have a successful elementary school career. I saw his mother from time to time over the years as a number of members of his family attended the school where I taught. The last I heard he was in school studying to be an engineer! Of course the ripples you may be thinking about are the ripples I created in teaching him, but really I learned so much watching how he learned that year that impacted how I taught other English learners over the years.
When I told my mother that my 11th grade English teacher grade had really made a huge difference in my life, she suggested I find him and tell him. Took a while since he’d moved but eventually I thought I’d found him. I asked if he was the same Mr. K who taught 11th grade Honor’s English. Dead silence. He asked why I wanted to know. I told him I just wanted to thank him for being really tough on us and that his class was the best I’d ever taken. After another long silence, he said no one had ever told him that and he thanked me.
Wish I’d done that years earlier with several other outstanding teachers, before it was too late.
Thanks for your insight.
Another warm and enjoyable Friday read. Thank you for sharing your trip down memory lane. I had a very special teacher in fourth grade. It was a very rough time for me as my parents were recently divorced and my Dad was now married to a new woman and had a new baby. She had 3 other children and one went to my school in the small south suburban Chicago town. I was struggling. This teacher saw the situation and in many small ways she comforted and made me feel so special. My Mom and us three girls moved about 45 miles away at the end of the school year. I have thought many times over the years how much I wished I would have been able to tell her how much she helped me get through a very difficult time. Your Blog brought her to mind again. Ripple….
Great blog. As a teacher I can relate–I have one student from my teaching days who I see postings on Facebook. We are still in communication with each other. And, I tell my two children–ages 50 and 52–that they should send a thank you to a teacher that impacted their lives. Same with the grandkids, who are also adults now.
Good blog…thank you
Mrs. Mediogovich was positively my favorite teacher from Bisbee High. My Latin teacher’s name was, I believe, Mary Kathryn Mitchell and I sang in choir with her at the Covenant Presbyterian Church in Bisbee. Such a small world and I do enjoy reading your blogs. Take care.
My favorite ripple from being an avid reader started with the Anya Seaton book “Katherine”. It is a historical fiction set in the 1300’s and the reign of King Edward the Third. The main characters are the king’s son, John of Gaunt, and his mistress, Katherine Roet (later his wife). I felt a connection with these two and re-read the book many times through the years.
I am now into my family genealogy, and recently unearthed the fact that these two medieval lovers are my Great Great + Grandparents!
Teresa Kennedy says:
January 3, 2025 at 1:04 pm
Thank you for this amazing story.
We are part of your rippling pattern … as the Yumans in blog, “Sooner, Dear.”
Every Friday, I check the email for your blog. If I squirrel, by 11:00, Hubs will ask if I received it yet. We read it together.
We also enjoy the conversations shared by other blog readers. Being homebound, our Fridays have a much larger horizon to look toward. Thank
you.
Ripple on…
You mention loving lakes. Do you know the lakes of Northern Idaho? Couer d’Alene is magnificent, and Pend d’Oreille is even more so!
During WW II, the US built a submarine training center at Bay View at the south tip of Pend d’Oreille. It is by now a state park,. At the time it was a boom town during the constructi0n, and my father and brother both worked there during the summer of 1942. I’d love to get a report on how it’s doing now!
My late husband was stationed there during training before being sent overseas in WW II. He and I visited it, and no buildings were left. It wasn’t a park yet and haven’t been back since our one-time visit, but it was a beautiful location. It was funny that Navy training was so far from any large body of water.
OK, I almost slipped off my chair when I got to the declension of love as that is one of the few things I remember from my years in Latin class. Thanks again for a great blog!
That is a wonderful story
Just proves that everything is connected!
Great story!