Lee Max

The smell is definitely distinctive. When I'm out on a bicycle ride, and I notice that distinctive smell coming from the car that just passed within 5 feet of my bicycle, that smell triggers fear.

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

This discussion about marijuana and cops brought back several memories:
1.   The only time I had even heard of cannabis during my adolescence and young adult life was my from my parents talking about the early jazz musicians who partook of "reefers" and added to lyrics from tunes from the early twenties and thirties.  My dad did explain what it was in terms that would make you want to stay away from ANY illegal substances. My dad started out as a beat cop in 1939, so I'm sure he knew where he could find it.

2. I never saw ( or smelled) marijuana until 1974, when I started dating a young man who worked in the marketing department at Procter and Gamble. He and all of his friends got high regularly. I tried the stuff, but it did absolutely nothing for me. The young man and I were engaged a short time. He had moved to Springfield MA, to work as a marketing director for The Breck Co. (remember Breck girls and shampoos). I visited regularly and during one Thanksgiving weekend, his boss and wife invited us up to their cabin in the Berkshires near Otis.  After riding motorcycles through the woods, and a lovely traditional New England dinner and dessert ,his boss served up beautifully wrapped joints on a tray.  They had rolled the joints from their own home grown plants!! Both I and my fiancé were in hysterics since his boss was always so businesslike at work. We took a picture with one of the plants to commemorate this history !!

3.  To say cops have really changed over the years is an understatement by something that happened to one of my best girlfriends in the late 1970s.  She related a story about an encounter she had with a police officer when she was driving home from downtown, late on a cold snowy night. To put it politely, my friend was known as one to heavily overindulge in libations, but still get behind the wheel.  That particular cold night, an officer pulled her over for improper change of lanes. At that time of night and the snow, no other traffic was around.  She told me that she rolled down the window to her VW Superbeetle, told the officer that it was so cold out, and asked if he wanted a little nip from her bottle to take the chill off.  He actually took a sip, then let her go on her way!! She wasn't as fortunate the next time she got behind the wheel loaded. She had a terrible crash and knocked out all of her teeth (but that's another story).

I forgot to add that back in the day, my boyfriend and I found a stray puppy and decided to keep keep her. He named her "ganja"!  I had to rehome the pup when the manager of the apartment I lived in discovered I had a dog.  A coworker took the dog, but renamed her Pudgy.

Florence (Now Jean) Ager

OF POLICE DISCRETION  in the 1970s 

      I was driving into NYC  for the first time in the 1970s .. In the approach to the city, I realized I was trapped in the wrong lane and was heading toward a bridge. Slowing the car to almost a stop, I was terrified as an officer approached. I sheepishly explained my dilemma.

     With a booming voice he asked, "If you were in Ohio would you cross 7 lanes of traffic?"

     I responded definitively, "No sir."

     He then went on to say, "Well, today you can do it here. Welcome to New York!" He used his megaphone to stop cars as I drove across all lanes and toward the appropriate tunnel. 

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

Jean, your police "discretion" story is great. I have one too, but my encounter wasn't as random. I may have already related it in this forum, but unlike Phil, my memory of past comments isn't as clear. 
Some will remember Queen City Avenue, one of the busy streets leading to "the west side" of Cincinnati from the Western Hills Viaduct. It is a one-way street heading west, with several side streets. As I was driving in the center lane but changed over to the left lane in anticipation of having to make a turn further up the street. At the same time, a car turned into the same lane from a side street, and I crashed into it. 
A short time later, one of those huge, leather clad motorcycle officers pulled up to assess the situation. I absolutely knew it was my fault and had no excuse. 
The officer dealt with the person I hit first.  After clearing the traffic, and talking to the man to get his story about what had happened and to check his registration and license , the cop took out his book and wrote the man a ticket for having Kentucky plates on his car. He let the guy move on, then turned to me. 
I was shaking in my shoes, thinking that the cop gave a ticket to the person I hit, I surely was going to get something that might be worse. The big cop, walked over to me, took my license and registration, took off his helmet, looked me in the eyes and said, "Are you Shep's daughter?" I was so afraid and in tears. I told him, "Yes. Shep is my dad." With that, he smiled and patted me on the shoulder. He told me that he had to give me a ticket, but it would be for a fine and not result in a court appearance or points on my driving record.
Back then, it paid to have a "family and friends connection" with the police.

Jon Singer

I got a big dollar (when you are broke) ticket in '64 for going 35 in a 25 zone shortly after acquiring my 10-year-old wheels. I learned my lesson.  Fast forward decades, my children came to abuse me for always going too slow. One beautiful Autumn Sunday afternoon in '04, the wife and I chose the country roads to return from near-Columbus Hocking Hills State Park. We traversed two laners at 45mph, reducing to 35, then to small town 25. Rinse and repeat until rural quiet was busted by flashing lights in my rear-view. A State trouper pulled us to the gravel, reviewed of my certificates and returned to his cruiser to run my plates while we waited in an axious state. "Do you know how fast you were going?" "No." He informed me he had clocked me at 37 in a 25 zone. Oh my. I wasn't Shep's daughter yet he kindly issued me a warning and told me to watch my speed.  As soon as we got home, with pride I called each kid to tell them I had been caught speeding!

I had a less favorable encounter Thanksgiving of 1965 when I brought older brother and his bossom bud back to Cincy from Antioch College for a mother's meal. Post-turkey, I transported them back to Yellow Springs that evening and feeling an invasion of the sand man on my return home near midight, I pulled off the road into the Golden Lamb parking lot for a nap. A State trouper's flashlight awoke me and after an interrogation revealing my purpose, the officer told me, "We don't want your kind here...get out of town." He then followed me until I exited Lebanon's western boundry.  To this day, I don't know what "singular kind" I be. 

Philip Spiess

My father used to tell this story about his childhood, which would have been in the early 1920s (and in the early days of car travel):  He and his full sister, a year or so older than he, were being taken by his much older step-sister and her husband on a car trip north in Ohio, probably to Cedar Point at Sandusky.  Somewhere mid-state they passed through a small Ohio town.  Stopped at a red light before their route turned at a gas station, they waited till the light changed, then proceded on.  Immediately a cop on a motorcycle appeared out of nowhere and pulled them over.  "Skippin' a red light by cutting through the gas station, eh?" he growled at my great-uncle John.  (He had obviously identified an out-of-county license plate and thought to make good on it.)  "That'll be a $25 fine or a night in jail!"

My Aunt Louise (dietitian at Deaconess Hospital in Clifton) was nobody's fool.  She promptly said, "We'll take the night in jail!"  Disbelieving, nevertheless the cop hustled the four of them off to the local small-town jail.  As soon as they were locked in a cell, my aunt started punching, pushing, and shoving the two small kids.  "Now cry, damn you, cry!" she admonished them.  Both being very young children and not knowing what in the world was really going on, my Aunt Dorothy and my father burst into hysterical shrieking and sobbing, bawling their eyes out and caterwauling like the dickens.  About five minutes of this ruckus, and the cop reappeared.  Unlocking the cell door, he said swiftly and in a very irritated tone, "You folks get the hell out of town -- now!"  (And you may be sure they did so!)

David Buchholz

Jadyne and I had not visited Yellowstone or the Tetons in more than fifty years, so we added Glacier to the list, planning to spend three days in each park.  We chose to leave September 10th, knowing that kids would be back in school and snow was a week or two away.  We had beautiful warm sunny days, cold nights, and spectacular scenery.  As a Californian for almost sixty years  I thought I might need a Visa when visiting.  I'm posting a few of the images from the trip, then adding a link to more.

We chose a ranch five miles away from the Tetons to spend our last three days.  Short on amenities, but the sunset view from our room made up for it.

It rained heavily the night before we left.  I hoped that if the sky cleared at sunrise we'd be gifted with the first snowfall of the year on the Tetons.

Signs in West Yellowstone warned us of road construction before Old Faithful, so after sitting for thirty minutes in stopped traffic I just wanted to walk down the road a bit.  Someone said something about a herd of buffalos, but I wasn't worried, thinking that they would be off to the side, not crossing the road right next to me.  I was mistaken.

The fifty-six miles of Glacier's spectacular "Going to the Sun" Road takes the better part of the day, but I loved the hikes to hidden waterfalls just as much.

I have put about fifty more images on my website.  http://www.davidkbuchholz.com/three-parks

Steven Levinson

David, which ranch did you guys stay at in Jackson Hole?

David Buchholz

Steve, it was the Heart Six Ranch, and it wasn't in Jackson Hole.  It was on a road about five miles east of the north end of the park.

Steven Levinson

Thanks, David.  I know the Heart Six.  It's on Buffalo Valley Road, which is part of Jackson Hole, which is the common name for the entire valley.  Jackson is the name of the town, which is the county seat of Teton County.  We have good friends who live off of Buffalo Valley Road, and my son and his family have been spending a week in December at the Turpin Meadow Ranch, which is a couple of miles down the road from the Heart Six.  Our family home is in a meadow across the main highway from the Moose Head Ranch.  We have a beautiful unobstructed view of the entire Teton Range.

Fred Hoeweler

David and Steve,

Our family and grandsons camped at Colter Bay this summer and floated and fished  the Snake River (put in at Jackson Lake dam and takeout at Moran entrance) in our canoes - scenic and memorable.

Steven Levinson

Paradise, yeah Fred?

Ira Goldberg

Nelson, fellow Libra, I wish you a wonderful birthday. Being 17 with 60 years of experience is worth celebrating. 

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

It's starting to look like Halloween around here. Chief's friends want him to come out to play ; )
 

Philip Spiess

"It Came From the Attic"

Barbara Kahn (Tepper)

Has anyone heard from Judy Holtzer? Doesn't she live in Israel?

Florence (Now Jean) Ager

Barbara,  

    I, too, have been very concerned about Judy Holzer and hope she can reassure us of her well-being. Several of us have messaged her within the past week. I recall her writing on the Forum that she lives in Mod'in which is on the West Bank midway between Jerusalem and Tela Viv. 

Laura Reid (Pease)

I have been thinking about Judy also and praying for her safety.  This is horrible.

Margery Erhardt (Schrader)

I, too, have been thinking of Judy and praying for her and her country. This is such a tragedy and I hope that Judy and her family are well and safe!!!!! Prayers for Israel!!!!

Paul Simons

I have corresponded with Judy several times on this app and I sent her a message using that part of it several days ago. I haven't heard back. She listed her address as in Modiin, more central, farther from gaza. Speaking of that I understand that some in the "international community" are upset with the Israeli response to mass murder and I wonder what they would prefer. Should the Israelis just quietly bury their dead and put out milk and cookies for the next wave of attackers?

Seriously this goes back to the partition of the British Mandate into a Muslim country Jordan and a Jewish country Israel by the UN in 1948. The surrounding Arab countries didn't like it and all attacked Israel which somehow beat them back and it's been like that since. ISIS and Hamas both want the whole region to be an Islamic Caliphate. That's what's behind attack and retaliation time after time and various measures on the ground which haven't brought security to Israel. In my opinion as long as an ideology of religious extremism that demands the annihilation of Israel holds power war and the suffering it causes will not end. 

Personally I don't believe in any supernatural beings and I wonder if people are still around a thousand years from now if they'll find some other way of knowing who they are besides which non-existent supernatural being they identify with. As long as I'm on the subject this country has a history of replacing fact with fiction to disastrous ends - there was all kinds of junk science that allowed this place to be a radical white supremacist hellhole for generations. Until some politicians who are still using it start losing elections we will be in an ongoing disaster right here at home.

Jerry Ochs

Judy Holtzer Knopf has an account on Facebook.  I don't.  However, I did track down her podiatrist and asked him to ask her to contact us on this website

Ira Goldberg

All WHHS '64 classmates: I reached Judy's brother, David. This is a copy of his reply this morning. Last two words say it all! 

"Hello Ira. 
Yes my sister moved to the city of Modiin a few years ago. She is near her youngest boy...she also has 24/7 helper. Lots of back pain,  not very mobile. But safe!" 

Paul Simons

Thanks Ira and Happy Birthday. Like always I caution against any public listing of actual date of birth information as it's a valuable piece of information to hackers so - if it's in mid- or late-October or early- or mid-November, enjoy.

Jerry Ochs

Judy's doctor replied: She's fine.  I passed along the message.

Ira Goldberg

I had a good conversation with Judy this morning. To add to Jerry's post, she sounds good. I'll share a few comments with her approval. Judy is very moved to hear that WHHS classmates care about her well being and how things are going there. She and fellow residents of Israel were touched by President Biden's remarks. She wants to reassure us that she is safe in a Modiin apartment (52 miles from Gaza; 45 minutes to Tel Aviv), near her youngest son's family. Like most, it is difficult to listen to current events on the news. Judy's house, which she has rented out for many years, is in Be'er Sheva. She is involved in various English speaking groups, mostly with British expats. Her daughter's own child lived closer to Gaza in Kisufim and while traumatized by the invasion, is safe now near the Dead Sea. At 17, she will soon qualify for her IDF service. Perdonally, like many of us facing health problems, she agrees that aging is not for the weak. We did discuss care oprions available there. If anyone wishes to catch up by phone, contact her brother, Dave, on Facebook Messenger to set up a time. He is a "good guy," having arranged earlier for her to turn on her phone so I could call free (50 min.) on WhatsApp.