Tin Lizzie

It weighed 1200 pounds, cost $825, ran 40 miles an hour, and came in one colour -- black.  It was produced in 19 different countries and 15 million models were sold.  Some historians say that Henry Ford's Model T automobile did more to change the American landscape than any other machine.  On this day in 1908, the first Model T was built at the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit, Michigan.  Only 200,000 cars existed at the time, reserved for the rich since they were so expensive.  But Henry Ford announced "I will build a car for the multitude" and that is exactly what he did in the years 1908 to 1927.  Although the Model T was not easy to start and more than a few people were known to get broken arms while trying to turn the crank, it was user friendly enough that they caught on eventually. 

Already cheaper than other automobiles when it first came out, the Model T's price dropped considerably with Ford's invention of the assembly line in 1914 after which he could produce cars at a much faster rate.  The Model T had interchangeable parts which made repairs easier and cheaper.  Furthermore, Ford was the first American Company to pay its workers $5 a day, making the vehicles even more within their reach.  By 1914, the car affectionately called the Tin Lizzie, dropped to $260 and 4 out of 5 Americans owned a car.  For the first time, workers were able to commute to work and America saw the growth of the suburbs, highways and biways. 

Rural America changed bit by bit to urban America.  Farmers converted the Model T's into tractors; firefighters used them as fire engines; race car drivers used them as speedsters; and store owners used them as delivery trucks; teenagers used them to take their girlfriends on dates.  As Ford claimed, they were "reliable, affordable and versatile".  It's been over 100 years since the first Model T was built and yet people still remember them with affection.  Some sit in museums, some sit in collector's garages and some sit abandonned in farmers' fields.  The Tin Lizzie made its mark on America and on the world.



Photo courtesy http://www.cdndipity.com

 

Happy 50th Anniversary!

Last Thursday dawned sunny and warm, the perfect day for a road trip.  We drove east along Highway 407 to Brock Road, then headed south to Highway 401.  Although the road was packed at Pickering, once we passed Oshawa, the traffic thinned out and our trip became quite pleasant. 

The terrain slowly started to change as we headed into Canadian Shield country.  We saw large rock formations lining the highway which Dad said could not be cracked with a chisel; when workers built the road, they had to dynamite the rock.  And yet, I saw a few trees sprouting through the rocks at the top of the ledge, after dirt had worked its way into a crevice.  I couldn't believe all of the greenery and open space that still exists in this province. 

We stopped for lunch at Port Hope and then continued on our journey.  We passed Belleville and Kingston and then headed north on Highway 416 "The Highway of Heroes", the road the bodies of slain soldiers are transported on after they return from Afghanistan.  We exited the highway at Manotick and made our way through rush hour traffic; how can a town so small have so many cars?  Finally, we reached the Days Inn across from the Ottawa Airport and stretched our stiff legs.  After a rest, we dined at The Keg where we all ordered the grilled salmon; it was scrumptious!

The next day we were invited to the Manotick Golf & Yacht Club for my Aunty Marilyn and Uncle Doug's 50th wedding anniversary.  We were greeted at the door by young Patrick, their grandson.  Then my cousin Kevin escorted us upstairs to the dining room where you could enjoy a pretty view of the Rideau River.  On a long table, were sitting some presents along with a basket half full of cards on which guests had written memories of the anniversary couple.  My cousin Wendy will take those memories and make an album, just like the one her Mom made for our Grandma back in 1981 (see my post "The Scrapbook" (June 20).  As the guests arrived, we saw people we hadn't seen in years.  One woman spotted my Mom from across the room and said:  "Isn't that one of the Stroud girls?"  That made my Mom's day given that she hadn't seen this woman since high school. 

My cousin Wendy was the Master of Ceremonies and she took us on a trip down memory lane back to 1961.  She also gave us a slide show.  We heard about how my aunt and uncle met and courted at Rice Lake north of Toronto.  We ate a delicious dinner of chicken, roast potatoes, vegetables and spice cake.  We heard some well written speeches as well as a solo by my aunt and uncle's beautiful granddaughter, Kaitlyn.  After dinner, my aunt and uncle enjoyed the dance that they never got to have at their wedding.  It was heartwarming to see a couple not only married for 50 years, but still in love after 50 years.  Happy Anniversary, Aunty Marilyn & Uncle Doug!



Photo courtesy www.annscardsandgifts.com

 

The Vacant Pew

In 1965, Pierre Berton wrote a report about the Anglican Church in Canada, later published as The Comfortable Pew, claiming that church goers had become too complacent, too comfortable with the status quo, and they needed to be shaken up.  At the same time, Protestant mainline churches started experiencing a steady decline in North America.  According to Wikipedia, Protestant church membership in the United States peaked at 31 million in 1960, dropped to 25 million in 1988 and to 21 million in 2005.  Similarly weekly attendance at Canadian Protestant churches peaked in the 1950’s at 70%, dropped to 30% in 1975 and plummeted to 20% in 2000.  Churches have definitely been shaken up, but not necessarily in the way Mr. Berton intended.

     Growing up in a Protestant church in Hamilton, Ontario, my family worshipped every Sunday even if we were under the weather.  My Dad would talk to everyone and Mom joked that he should lock up the church every week.  If my siblings and I complained about waiting, Dad would say:  “I went to church three times on Sunday, twice for services and once for Sunday School.  You only go once.” 

     In my parents’ day, the church was the centre of the community where people met for baptisms, banquets, bazaars, Bible studies, socials, confirmations, girl guides & boy scouts meetings, youth group meetings and dances (Methodists).  Spouses met and married in God’s house.  Churches were full of life!

     As newlyweds, my husband Rob and I were seeking a church like the one my parents attended in the Sixties.  Sadly, their church had become a shadow of its former self:  the youth group had folded, confirmation had become a foreign word, the couples club had dwindled and baptisms were rare, although funerals were all too common.  The pews were vacant. 

     Where did everybody go?  Why wasn’t the congregation attracting new ones, or at least keeping the existing ones?  Over time, hockey games and work schedules and household chores have taken precedence over church services on Sunday morning.  I believe that a big reason people have left the church is that it isn’t feeding them spiritually anymore.  If they simply hear that same politically correct message that TV, newspapers, magazines or the workplace bombards them with daily, they might as well stay home.  A church sanctuary should be a sanctum from the outside world.

     As for Rob and I, we moved to a new city and tried another Protestant church.  Although its theology was sound, its population was aging and efforts were minimal to attract new members.  The pews were a bit too comfortable.  When our little boy Thomas was born, he was the only baby in the nursery.  It was time to move on.

     We decided to try the denomination in which my husband was baptized.  The downtown church was vibrant when we arrived, but bit by bit, its pews emptied.  One summer Thomas’ name was the only one on the Vacation Bible School list.  I believe political correctness killed our second church. 

Our third church was Christian Reformed, a denomination that we had no connection to.  Our first Sunday visit five years ago was memorable thanks to the warm welcome we received.  With the sanctuary full, the congregation sang several praise choruses with gusto.  A gentleman led a heartfelt congregational prayer that was not politically correct, but followed God’s word.  The church lacked a fulltime minister at the time and yet it ran like a well-oiled machine.  I said to Rob:  “This is what we’ve been looking for all these years!”  We never looked back.  Thomas and Jacqueline settled into the Sunday School, 75 children strong.   I joined the Alpha Course, Women’s Bible Study, Prayer Team and Praise Team.  Now my children say that I should lock up the church.  

     What’s special about Hope Christian Reformed Church?  People come regularly, not sporadically.  Husbands, not just wives, attend.  Youth, as well as the elderly, attend.  Our church even supports Brantford Christian School where we later enrolled our children, the best decision we ever made.  Although people are talented at Hope, they exhibit a humility I rarely see these days.  When someone needs prayer, we get down on our knees.  When someone needs a job, we find an employer. When someone is seriously ill, we prepare meals for him.  Servant leadership is not just a theory but a reality there.  At Hope, the pews are neither comfortable, nor vacant, but full of the Holy Spirit.  Our Redeemer lives!

 Photo of Hope Christian Reformed Church courtesy www.classishamilton.ca

Go Fly a Kite

A little boy has a request for God, but he thinks God isn't listening.  So he builds himself a beautiful kite and writes a message on it.  He flies the kite hoping that God will notice it.  However, God still does not respond, so the boy flies the kite even higher, but without success.  Finally, he realizes that the only way he will fully capture God's attention is to send the kite right up to heaven.  Reluctantly, he lets go of his precious kite and lets it float up into the sky.

Can you let go of your kite?  I find it hard to let go of mine.  I hang on for dear life.  And yet surrendering to God is the first step to a closer relationship with Him.  On the battlefield, to surrender infers that one gives up entirely and concedes defeat.  However, surrendering to God means that we surrender to His will and accept His unconditional love.  You don't have to fly a kite or build a tower to get God's attention; you need only to surrender.




Photo courtesy http://media-2.web.brittanica.com

Banned!

It's one thing to ban reading material for telling lies like the hate propaganda that Ernst Zundel wrote claiming the Holocaust never happened.  However, it's quite another to ban books that tell the truth.  This week is banned books week and here are a few titles that were banned at one time or another in the United States or elsewhere, often for telling the truth.

1.  All Quiet on the Western Front -- I read this book in my first year of university.  Eric Maria Remarque gives a scathing account of what it was like for a soldier to serve in the trenches in World War I and to re-adjust to civilian life.  This book was banned and burned in Nazi Germany.

2.  Anne Frank:  Diary of a Young Girl.  I read this diary was I was young.  Anne Frank gives an account of her early childhood as well as her years in hiding in Amsterdam until she and her family are discovered by the Nazis, all perishing in concentration camps, except their father.  The Diary of Anne Frank has been banned by various American schoolboards for discussing menstruation and sexual feelings.

3.  Gone with the Wind -- Margaret Mitchell weaves a tale of debutantes in the deep South during the Civil War.  Some opposed the fact that the protagonist had been married more than once.  In recent years, it has been banned for its negative portrayal of black people, many of whom were slaves or servants, although this is an accurate interpretation of the time period.

4.  King Lear -- Shakespeare's play was banned for being too political.

5.  The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn -- Mark Twain's story is loosely based on his life on the Mississippi River as a young boy.  A Massachusetts Library banned the book in 1885 for being socially offensive.

6.  The Color Purple -- I read this book in university for an African American Literature course.  Alice Walker writes about a woman who is involved in an abusive relationship.  A North Carolina school board banned it for its violence and sexual content.

7.  Uncle Tom's Cabin --  I also read this book in university.  Harriet Beecher Stowe recounts the story of Reverend Josiah Henson, a slave owned by a white family, who eventually finds freedom across Lake Erie in Southwestern Ontario.  He contributed greatly to the Underground Railroad.  It was banned in the Southern States in the mid-1800's.  "So controversial was this novel that, upon meeting Stowe, President Lincoln is credited with saying, 'So, this is the little lady who wrote the big book that made this great war.'"  (www.forgetfulone.com)

8.  The Lord of the Rings -- Considered to be irreligious by some, J. R. R. Tolkien's hugely popular fantasy is the second most popular selling novel ever (over 150 million copies sold).

9.  To Kill a Mockingbird -- I read Harper Lee's novel with my class when I was a student teacher.  It's based on a black man who is charged and tried for the rape of a white woman, although he maintains his innocence.  In the end, he is declared guilty and sentenced to die.  The book was banned by Warren, Indiana schools since it does "psychological damage to the positive integration process". 

10.  The Grapes of Wrath -- John Steinbeck's novel was banned and burned in Buffalo, New York and Kern County, California.  Interestingly enough, Kern County was the setting for the novel.  "Detractors accused the author of everything from harboring communist sympathies to exaggeration of the conditions in migrant camps."  (http://cornellreading.typepad.com)

Apparently, Nazi supporters held a massive book burning session in Germany in 1933 burning several works by Jewish writers including Einstein and Freud as well as novels penned by writers who simply did not share their world view like those of Thomas Mann and Erich Maria Remarque.  While I do not promote the use of foul language or portrayal of excessive violence or inclusion of graphic sexual matter in books, I do promote the truth.  Many of these books speak the truth -- and the truth makes us uncomfortable.  Although we don't always like to hear these stories, they need to be told, as long as they are age appropriate.  Even the best selling book of all time has been banned or burned at one time or another in the past 2000 years.  And it definitely speaks the truth!



Photo courtesy http://instructors.dwrl.utexas.edu

Greetings from Holly Beach

The post card says:  "Greetings from Holly Beach",
But nothing remains of this seaside town.
Vacation houses within the shore's reach.
Now all of them are flattened to the ground.

The post card shows green fields and bright blue shores;
And yet I see nothing but shades of gray.
Once a "Riviera" for the poor,
No tourists visit this town by the bay.

The post card shows beaches soaked by the sun.
I see acres of mud, save one lone tree.
Once a small resort for frolic and fun,
But now it's a war-torn wasteland to me.

Holly Beach will never be quite the same.
Rita's recent visit must take the blame.

(September 23, 2006.)



Post card courtesy www.ustownviews.com

Chickens in the Trees

A tornado carved a path through the village of Kirkton, Ontario, tearing off rooftops, flattening 40 year old trees, spooking horses and scattering chickens in June of 1933.  Truman Tufts, caught planting in the fields, lost the reigns of the horses, and was knocked to the ground by the force of the wind, the roller rolling over his leg.  His wife Florence sat inside the farmhouse.  Their young daughter Norma was sitting on the front porch in a little chair at a table with her doll ready to have tea.  She saw the sky turn as black as night when her mother grabbed her, brought her inside and put her under the four poster bed.  Florence then tried to shut their front door but it forced open by the wind.  As Norma hid, the lace curtains were wrenched from their rods and the windows shattered. 

Meanwhile, up the road a quarter of a mile at the Kirkton School, Norma's siblings followed their young teacher down to the cellar.  In time the wind died down and the three Tufts siblings were sent home.  Making their way up the lane, Edwin and Marion cried while Ross, although quiet, looked shaken.  They saw the hundred maple trees that their dad used to water as a child, all flattened to the ground, pulled up by their roots.  Chickens perched in the trees.  The horses slowly returned to the barn, its roof sucked up by the storm.  They saw the roof of the house that their great-grandfather, Thomas, had built, torn off at the back.   Later, little Norma found her Mom's lace curtains in the apple orchard.  She discovered railway ties, embedded earlier in the 1900's as part of a partially completed CPR line, uprooted and cast aside. 

In the weeks to come, Norma could be seen outside the house, gathering shingles from the roof and nailing them to a post to prevent the post from suffering the same fate as the roof.  Passersby would drive down the laneway to gawk at the damaged homestead and then make their way back to  Highway 23.  The Tufts remained in the house for the summer, but when winter hit they moved across the road to their grandparents' farm.  This continued for a few years until they abandoned the house completely.  Ross remembered that on occasion, passersby would steal pieces of furniture from the Tufts homestead, later re-appearing at antique auctions in Stratford.  Bit by bit nature reclaimed the land and the house was engulfed in greenery. 

Over fifty years later, Ross was approached by his cousin Norm (my Dad) asking if he could salvage some of the fieldstone from the barn and woodworking from the house for his new home being built in Grand Bend.  Ross graciously agreed and now Thomas' handiwork is being enjoyed by my parents.  For Truman's children, they will never forget the day the sky turned as black as night and the wind whipped through the village, turning everything upside down.  


St. Mary's Cyclone of 1933 (I believe it was the same storm) photo courtesy http://images.ourontario.ca