A World War Two Veteran

John H. Kaiser
November 3, 1916 - March 12, 2013

It's amazing what a first date to grab a Coke can do. It took me until I was 27 to really realize what a dreamboat my grandfather Jack was. I suppose that's why my mother's so beautiful?

If our family tree were a Christmas tree, this man would be the star on top. Although with the size of our family, it would probably be more of a small family shrub with both a star and an angel on top- my grandmother, Wandalee, right there next to him. She was an English teacher and I am 100% positive that is why I proofread emails three times before sending.

They were the matriarch and patriarch of our family my entire life. In 1943, my grandfather was drafted into the army, deployed to the Philippines and later sent to Kyushu, Japan, after the bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. He then returned home, had babies and ran Kaiser Furniture Co. with his parents and brother, Dick, in the teeny town of Paola, Kansas (population around 3,000ish at the time).

The street that Jack built.

Kaiser Furniture Co. was in the tall, brick building.

Today it is owned by a family friend's financial advising company.

Kyushu, Japan.

Time Magazine cover from August 20, 1945. 15 cents.

Although my favorite memory after my grandmother Wandalee passed away in 2003 was the gravy story, my second favorite memory was of our family going through telegrams from the war. Imagine if you explained to someone in 1943 what Skype or Google Hangout are. Witchcraft.

Some stories are saved until you're old enough that they are either A) appreciated or B) appropriate. I didn't know until the weekend of the service that apparently his parents would call the pool hall across the street from the furniture store and ask, "Is Jack there? He's needed at the store." He would bolt out the door and the pool hall owner would say, "Nope. Haven't seen him."

The family that Jack built.
My amazing, small but mighty family on the second floor of the store.
The current owners of the buliding are world travelers
and display their memorabilia upstairs.

Left to right:

Cousin Gretchen and Gretchen's husband, Erik (Chicago)

J.D.'s wife, Sevrin, and cousin J.D. (Denver)

Me and my husband, Rhett (Columbia, SC)

Aunt Sandy (Lawrence, KS)

Mom Nancy (Kansas City)

Sister Sadie and her husband, Matt (Austin)

"Okie" Mark (Sandy; Lawrence)

Kiddos: Jaks and Ava (J.D./Sevrin) and Clara Lee (Gretchen/Erik)


Some Kaiser Furniture Co. knickknacks still hang on the walls.

Military honor salute and "Taps" on the snow-dusted Paola cemetery during the service.
It was a service for the 21st century which began with,
"We have Rich in Saudi Arabia with us on the phone."
He got to hear the entire service.
Luckily mom is with him in Amsterdam as we speak virtually share information.


Pallbearers Matt, Rhett, J.D., and Erik with military salute and flag.


Great grandson, Jaks, with the folded flag after the service.

Airport law enforcement calling for a background check on me.

No warrants and I was free to go. Woop woop!

Lesson here: 

When flying home from a military burial,
don't put bullet shells in your pocketbook.

Over the past few years during family gatherings, my grandfather would look around and say, "I can't believe I did all of this." It's amazing what a date to grab a Coke can do. 

In the most loving memory of him.

[photo sources: Anglonautes, Yellow Airplane, Japan Focus, Mom, Mrs. Cornelius, Mrs. WRCIV]

Spotlight : Lawrence, Kansas

Lawrence, Kansas. My hometown and fifty percent of my blog's namesake. I swear I'm not making this up, but the first thing the person giving my college campus tour said to me after I said I was from Kansas was, "You're not in Kansas anymore!" I could retire at the ripe old age of 27 if I had $100 for every time someone in South Carolina told me that I was the first person they've ever met from Kansas. I take it as a compliment.

My parents raised Sadie and I under the "give your children roots and wings" philosophy. My mother's side of the family is from Kansas and she somehow successfully convinced my dad to move from Napa to the middle of nowhere to raise a family. Located in the northeast corner of the sunflower state, it was indeed the best place to grow up and I am grateful. Muddy "beaches" at Clinton Lake, rats in the locker room because our school was in the middle of a corn field... they may be crazy roots, but they're my roots.

Lawrence is like the little unknown family/college town oasis in the middle of all those "square states." A town that takes pride in small shops, local restaurants, and is home to the cathedral of basketball, Allen Fieldhouse. Dorthy doesn't actually live there, tornadoes don't actually plow through town, and there are actually hills... big hills. Although I haven't physically called Lawrence home for nearly nine years, it will always be home and the Kansas Rock Chalk Chant will always equal March Madness.

My sister and I living the simple life out on the farm. 

We didn't have chickens, or a farm,
but we had friends that lived in the country
and those are most definitely our coveralls.
(1988)

Rhett in Lawrence where the buffalo roam (state animal).
(2006)


Kansas summers are hotter than yours
and the winters are colder than yours
except if you live in Canada or Russia or something.
This was taken last week during a winter storm in March
which ended up dumping 6 inches or so.
NBD.

Also taken last week, my first time watching March Madness at home since high school.
Kansas basketball is magical, impossible to understand unless you've lived it,
and is Lawrence's #1 import.

Quick! Trivia question:
Who invented basketball?

Answer:

James Naismith in 1891 with a pair of peach baskets.

Naismith also founded the Kansas basketball program.

Allen Fieldhouse, home of Kansas Jayhawks
and Mecca to basketball fans everywhere.


During a recent hometown progression lunch at some Mass St. favorites.
Mass St. (Massachusetts Street) is where everyone gravitates for
food, shopping, and adult beverages.
First course: Spinach and artichoke dip at Quinton's.
Second course: Wings at Jefferson's.
Third course: Pizza "as big as your face" at Papa Keno's.
Dessert: Darts at Harbour Lights.


An institution in every sense of the word:
Free State Brewing Company.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Photo featuring the menu art with description below,
infamous bottle in the wall at the entrance,
and the man himself: James Naismith.
The place smells of hops and their infamous cheddar ale soup.


If you don't know this saying, you don't know Lawrence.
The back of Free State's t-shirts.
Excuse my small edit.

"Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam

Where the deer and the antelope play.

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

And the sky is not cloudy all day."

-"Home on the Range"

State song of Kansas

Funny story: my aunt Sandy Praeger has been in the politics scene my whole life, including the Senate, Mayor of Lawrence, and she's currently insurance commissioner. One year at a statehouse dinner, the main course was buffalo. Rude.

[photo sources: My Hero, Mrs. WRCIV]

St. Hubert Hound

Being sick the past few days, lucky me got to snuggle the love out of our dogs in bed for hours. Jack was just so cute, I had to dedicate this week to him.

There is a thing called "bias" and there is a thing called "fact." Fact: bloodhounds are the most scrumptious canine in the animal kingdom (wink). In a recent study I conducted, I asked myself who the cutest dog I've ever seen was and the results were astonishing. The bloodhound was the overwhelming favorite. It's like God created the goofiest, most adorable, squishy little family pup He could think of, and He did a knockout job. Again, not bias, just relaying the facts.

I made probably the dumbest move you can make as a dog owner and got our bloodhound, Jackson, having done no research. I saw a picture of the four most perfect looking little faces, all scrunched up it was hard to tell what skin belonged to which pup, and we were in the car heading to North, South Carolina. The breeder opened the gate and I chose the first one that ran up to me and let me hold him. Fortunately, bloodhounds do make amazing family pets for their loyalty and "gentle giant" nature. And those bloodhound eyes? My goodness...

At times, I feel like the biggest dog lover this side of the Mississippi. Every now and then, I catch myself getting lost in YouTube videos of bloodhound puppies or singing my dogs a lullaby. Since I've started blogging to channel my aloof creative energy, I thought I would write down a few words about the St. Hubert Hound AKA the bloodhound.

Before I rattle off some interesting facts, here is some basic, background information. The bloodhound traces its ancestry from Belgium/France/England/Scotland and is a large scent hound originally bred for hunting and tracking. The term "blood" has nothing to do with its ability to track blood (although it can), but rather a "hound of pure or noble blood." They snore and slobber and love their humans until their faces start to fall off. Adult males weigh anywhere from 100-120 pounds and adult females 80-100. Jack fluctuates between 101-105, probably because he's missing a little meat on his front, left paw (frown face).

Drum roll please...

I present:

TOP TEN MOST FASCINATING FACTS: BLOODHOUND EDITION!

Bloodhounds are the world's most handsome mammal.

Okay, okay. Scientifically proven facts...

--The bloodhound was the first dog whose sniffing evidence was admissible in a court of law
--A scent dragged a bloodhound 135 miles across the state of Kansas successfully tracking a scent
--Bloodhounds in the lime light: Disney's "Pluto," "Duke" from the Beverly Hillbillies, "Cooper" in The Fox and The Hound, McGruff the Crime Dog, "Hubert" in Best in Show, "Trusty" from Lady and the Tramp
--Bloodhounds can sniff a trail over 300 hours old (12 days)
--Under the best conditions, a bloodhound can detect as few as one or two skin cells
--Bloodhounds do not like to be left alone, would never dream of attacking, and are one of the most patient and kindest dogs in the dog world (I'm not making this up!!)
--If a human's olfactory sensor is the size of a postage stamp, the bloodhound's is the size of a hankerchief
--Their ears act as sweepers and stir up the scent from the ground to help identify smells
--When a bloodhound's nose is to the ground, the skin around the eyes falls forward acting as blinders to keep the dog focused
--The world's longest ears belonged to a bloodhound, about 13 inches

And because a mom needs to brag every once and awhile, here are some of Jack's greatest hits...

The week we got him. Chillin' like a boss with a big, jolly grin.

It took us 4 days to learn that a bloodhound will do anything to follow its nose...

...as in follow a scent out of the window of a moving car.
Lesson learned.

He was the big man on campus in his early days.

More often than not, I had to leave the party and go pick him up and bring him over.

At the time, I could carry him on my hip... the grandest, most manly entrance of course.

Picnik... before instagram was cool.
It took years of wrapping his paw before the wound (caused by his damaged nerves) healed.
Our vet, N-Dubs (the amazing Dr. Nori Warren) said he was a medical mystery
and was shocked we never had to amputate his leg.


With his big brother and best friend, Murphy


Party pooped on his 42nd birthday

I've always said, "I really hope I love my children as much as I love my dogs." If this turns out to be the case, I worry my heart will explode. Figuratively speaking, I guess that's not such a bad thing. And before it seems as if I'm playing favorites, I couldn't write a post about Murphy if I tried. You see, he is a lab mix of half lab, half love. I've never met anyone who claims to have a lab-love mix, so until further notice, he is one of a kind.

[photo source: oodle, Momma WRCIV]