good living in southern illinois march 2009

Fall • 2008

Good Living in Southern Illinois • Jan-Mar 20092

Angela RoweDDS

Office: (618) 932-2102Fax: (618) 932-2311

106. N. Monroe St.West Frankfort, IL 62896

IBEW Local No. 702Making Southern Illinois

a Better Place to Live

International Brotherhoodof

Electrical WorkersLocal No. 702


Letter from the Publisher

From Nancy and Sluggo to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to Mary and Todd Lincoln, people’s interactions with people make up the stories of life. This issue of Good Living focuses on relationships. Now, men, stay with me here. There are a few other things thrown in that don’t fit into that category, and remember that relationships aren’t always the “What’s wrong with him?” quizzes that you find in popular women’s magazines. There are a lot of different kinds of relationships, and if you really put your mind to it, you can drag every article and column here into that category.

One of our feature columnists, Gary Marx, has done it again: made me laugh and cry over his story of making apple pies just like his Mom taught him to do. Well, Gary makes cow pies, but his column is really about his mother’s influence in his life, and we can generalize to a treatise on the Mother/Son relationship that shapes a man’s character.

Julie Willis, our favorite columnist in all of New York City, has delighted us once again with her account of a presidents day party that she stages with her single girlfriends who are not big fans of Valentine’s Day. When all the women who are in relation-ships are being showered with flowers and chocolate (Well, not all – ahem), Julie and her best gal pals offer a funny and creative way to take the day into their own hands.

Speaking of girlfriends, we have a whole column on girlfriends --the fun, the loyalty and the commitment that women bring to a relationship. Guys can be great friends too – I know, I know, but maybe not with the utter abandon and emotion that girlfriends offer to one another. Ok Guys, go ahead and write. Prove me wrong.

We have a new columnist this issue. Brad Arnold, a consultant with Wachovia ---- in Carbondale, reflects on our relationship to our money. Ok it’s a stretch, but humor me. Brad does humor us with his quotations from Will Rogers commenting on another time that sounds like it may have been a lot like these times. He also offers some sound advice that we already know, but can all stand to hear again.

Ahh, this one’s easy. The ultimate seal of a relationship --a kiss on a wedding day. You will love the story about Ron and Glenda Botwinski of Herrin. The picture is truly worth any words I can add.

One of our feature stories about Pat Benton, morning radio personality on Magic 95.1, is legitimately a story about one man and his relationship to the people of Southern Illinois. We can speak to this from a very personal position. Our youngest son, Jay, whom I have mentioned before, waits for Benton to sing the “Heigh-Ho” song every weekday morning to help him get off to school. We learned that Benton reaches a lot of people with his loud and upbeat song about getting off to work and school, but he also touches Southern Illinoisans in a lot of other ways. Thanks, Pat.

Now this one’s a little tricky. “Pillars from the Past” is a pictorial essay on the stories of businesses that were once a part of the Southern Illinois landscape. There is so much history in every community that we had to limit what we could cover to the western half of Franklin County. It’s actually an essay about our relationship to our past.

We hope you enjoy the wit and the whimsy that you’ll find in the pages of Good Living in Southern Illinois. We hope you enjoy reading it. We hope it’s obvious that we enjoyed writing it.

Gail Rissi Thomas, Publisher


Pick Up Your Copy of

at the Following Locations:At Home Entertaining .... ..................... pg. 20 Bart Transportation............................... pg. 31BFJ Interiors ....................................... pg. 2Cache River Winery ............................. pg. 29Calico Country .................................... BackCarbondale Neighborhood Co-Op ....... pg. 7Coleman-Rhoads Furniture ..................pg. 2Decorating Den ................................... pg. 2Dr. Dale Brock, Optometrist ................... pg. 33East Main Market .................................... pg. 9Etcetera ................................................ pg. 11Fratelli Ristorante ................................ pg. 23Gandy’s Auto Body ......................... pg. 2Giant City Lodge ................................... pg. 19IBEW ................................................... pg. 2Image Graphics ..................................... pg. 35Kreative Design Showcase ...................... pg. 29Lola’s Restaurant ................................. pg. 9McDonald’s ............................................ pg. 7Mike Riva, Attorney .............................. pg. 27My Favorite Toys ................................... pg. 13Plumbers & Pipefitters .......................... pg. 12Ponton Foot Clinic ................................. pg. 21Prairie Living at Chautauqua................. pg. 27Professional Health Services .................. pg. 13Ramey Insurance ................................... pg. 31Shelter Insurance ...............................,... pg. 30Shawnee Trading Post ............................ pg. 21Simple Solutions ..................................... pg. 22Southern Illinois Bank ........................... pg. 11So. Illinois Men’s Health Conference .... pg. 35Southern Illinois Music Festival ............ pg. 37Southern Illinois Surgical Appliance ...... pg. 20St. John’s Springtacular ......................... pg. 35Stotlar Lumber ....................................... pg. 37Teamsters ............................................... pg. 10The Country Gourmet ............................ pg. 16Wells Big and Tall .................................. pg. 23West Frankfort Auqatics Center ............ pg. 33Your Jeweler ....................................... pg. 7

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No portion of this publication, includ-ing stories, photos and advertisements, may be reproduced in any manner with-out the expressed consent of Good Life Publications.©2009

PUBLISHERSMichael A. ThomasGail Rissi Thomas

EDITORGail Rissi Thomas

COPY EDITORGenelle Bedokis

ADVERTISINGSherry Murphy

LAYOUT / GRAPHIC DESIGNMichael A. Thomas

CONTRIBUTING WRITERSBrad ArnoldGary MarxJulie Willis

PHOTOGRAPHYMichael Thomas

Jeff Gusta

MAILING ADDRESS309 East Oak • West Frankfort, IL 62896

E-MAIL [email protected]

PHONE NUMBER(618) 937-2019

SUBSCRIPTIONSGood Living in Southern Illinois is published quar-terly. It is available free of charge through our advertis-ers. It is also availble to readers through a subscritpion of $24 per year for six issues mailed to your address. To subscribe send check and your mailing address to:

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5

DepartmentsFeatures 8 Pillars from the Past

14 Soothing Soup

20 Girl Friends

24 The “Heigh-Ho” Guy

38 The Kiss of a Lifetime

And Also

6 Gary Marx Ships, Shoes and Sealing Wax

12 Julie Willis BeJeweled

18 Brad Arnold A Funny Thing Happened

30 Gail Rissi Thomas The Cake Story

34 Michael A. Thomas Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Volume 2No. 1

Jan -March2009

Phyllis Buchanan, Valier Judy Espy, Christopher Bob Hoye, ChristopherMarsha Patton, West FrankfortAllan Patton, ZeiglerMayor Vic Ritter, Herrin

Special Thanks


There’s a ritual I follow every year for the holidays. It’s something I do to remind myself how fragile life is, and

how hopelessly doomed we are. Every holiday I try to make an apple pie.

It’s my mother’s recipe, and although I follow it faithfully, what I end up with is more cow pie than apple pie.

My mother is 84 and doesn’t bake much anymore, but she once made the best pies this side of the Rubicon. For the past decade or so I have tried to duplicate her efforts, and although my pies have been — for the most part — edible, they’ve never actually looked like food.

The filling has never been the problem. Not really, anyway. I mean, my filling is sometimes on the dry side with an oc-casionally undercooked slice of Granny Smith, but the real issue is the crust. And I use the term “crust” in the loosest sense.

I know the process is breaking down when I start rolling out the dough and instead of a nice, thin, round pie form, I get something that’s sticky and torn in the shape of Idaho. Invariably I end up piecing it together in a pan, and the top crust goes on in chunks, like so many bad toupees.

There’s nothing wrong with the recipe.

Mom had used it for years.

I’ve seen her measure the flour, cut in the shortening and roll out the dough. I’ve seen her lay it into a pie pan as if she were placing a baby in a cradle. Then she’d fill it with apples and cover with another layer of dough. She’d crimp the edges, cut whimsical air holes in the top and sprinkle it with a little sugar before popping it into the oven. In an hour, perfection would emerge.

Maybe I missed a step — like the waving of a magic wand. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

Every year, though, I haul out the ac-coutrements of misery — the measuring cups, the mixing bowls, the rolling pin, the flour sifter — and I set out all of the ingredients. Then I cross myself using a wooden spoon and begin.

Mom is hundreds of miles away, but her voice comes to me while I’m sifting the flour.

“Ah, that’s nice,” she says. “Mix all the dry ingredients together, the flour, the salt…”

This is comforting. Her voice is sooth-ing, encouraging. But then things get a little confusing.

“Add the shortening a little at a time,” she says.

Um, what do you mean by “a little”? She acts like she doesn’t hear me. She says, “Did you chill this shortening?”

Of course, it says so right here on the recipe. “Hmmm, seems a little soft. But work it into the flour until it forms lumps the size of peas.”

Um, what kind of peas are we talking about, Mom? Baby peas? Or Green Gi-ant, fully grown adult peas? But Mom’s already moved on to the next step.

“Sprinkle in a little water. Always use ice water, not tap water,” she says. “And not too much.”

How much? “That’s too much!” she says.

Mom, you want to do this? “You can do it, just mix it lightly. See how those peas are forming?”

They don’t look like peas to me, Mom. “Don’t get smart with me, now.”

I’m not, I’m just not seeing the peas. “Give me that wooden spoon. Thank you. Now, would you bend over, please?”

The pie-baking conversation I have with Mom is the same, with variations, every year. And it’s not unusual. I hear her voice elsewhere, too, and I suppose I always will if I’m lucky.

Mom was always serving up little nug-gets of advice while I was growing up, mostly outside the kitchen. And, of course, I didn’t take it seriously enough at the time.

“Be polite,” she’d say, and my teenage eyes would roll. “Always open the door for the girl.”

Sometimes her advice was as vague as her dough-making directions. “Trust yourself,” she’d say. “Believe in your own abilities.” And sometimes it was a straight out cliché: “If at first you don’t succeed…” Right, right.

And Mom would sometimes mangle the quote, and it would come out like: “To your thigh self be true.” I knew what she meant to say, but I had no idea what the saying meant.

Nevertheless, she was always giving me little signs, invisible little placards to keep me on the path, so to speak. And one time the sign was real.

When I went away to live on my own for the first time, she gave me a note-book full of recipes — spaghetti sauce, chicken soup, that sort of thing — and

Ships, Shoes and Sealing Wax by Gary Marx

Mom, Pie and Her Half-Baked Son

Good Living in Southern Illinois • Jan-Mar 2009 7

along with that she gave me a framed, embroidered copy of the Serenity Prayer. You know the one: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the differ-ence.”

Now, 40 years and so many failed apple pies later, I know why that prayer came bundled with recipes. And there’s something else I realize, four decades later.

Mom was giving me more than simple cooking lessons when I was younger, and she was teaching me more than how to be polite in public. She was giving me a recipe for life, and supplying me with the key ingredients.

All I had to do was create something with it. And any re-semblance my life might now have to a cow patty is entirely my doing.

Gary Marx is a former columnist and news editor for The Southern Illinoisan. He’s now a freelance writer and author, and he works for The Kansas City Star. But no matter where he is, he’ll always be an Illinois boy. Contact him through his Web site: www.marxjournal.com.

West Frankfort,Marion andCarterville, IL

Now available at:


Pillars From the PastOld buildings have a story to tell us

The stately Appino Hardware store still stands on the corner of Thomas and Market Streets in Christopher.

Photo by Michael A. Thomas


riving through some of the rural communities of Southern Illinois, it’s difficult not to notice the businesses that have

come and gone. Those businesses have left their history on the Main Streets, not only in a structure that still stands empty, a sign that once marked a busy eatery or retail store, but a story of a once thriving venture that contributed to the building of the town and a family that believed in it.

Such is the case in Franklin County, where in the 1920’s pros-perity swelled the population to over 60,000 residents. Over the years businesses and the families that were pillars of the communities have come and gone. In some cases, the original buildings remain and some are still marked with the sign that graced the entry when it was a busy and success-ful enterprise. In other cases, there is only an empty building, or only the sign that has been carried off to another place, because someone re-alized that it is an important part of the history of the town. Still in other instances there is only a photograph that exists somewhere. This is just a sampling of the tangible evidence of the pillars of the community. We thought they were interesting enough to record here, and to share.

D


TeamstersLocal 347

President, Terry Rawson Vice President, Tracy DavisSecretary-Treasurer, Rosi MillerRecordiing Secretary, Bill RainyTrustees: Jerry Cunnigham Terry Gossett Stan Patterson

Kolar’s Tavern

A hotel in its earliest life, Kolar’s Tavern was one of several thriving restaurants that brought Southern Illinoisans to Zeigler’s doorstep. “When the hotel was open,” said Allan Patton, Zeigler historian, “rooms were rented to miners, and that’s by the shift. One miner would get out of bed and go to work, another would come in from the mines and go to bed in the same room.” Families came from all over the region and even the St. Louis area to eat the famous fried chicken dinners that were Kolar’s claim to fame. The recipe belonged to Amanda Kolar, according to Marsha Pappas whose father owned the restaurant for many years. “We figure that the hotel must have opened in about 1910. When I was growing up, there were still some beds and stuff in the upstairs rooms. Amanda lived up there, but I thought it was kind of creepy.” Marsha explained. “We called it ‘The Place.’ I used to have to roll chicken there every Saturday night. My mom and I still use the recipe all the time.” The family has never published the recipe, but according to Pappas, King’s in Zeigler fries chicken that tastes most like the chicken that was served at Kolar’s for nearly 65 years. The simple but inviting atmosphere sported a full bar and a large hardwood stage, where little kids with no talent or training danced to music from the jukebox, or perhaps no music at all, while their families waited for dinner. On a Friday or Saturday night, that wait for the plate piled with crispy brown chicken, fat cut fries, coleslaw and a piece of bread could drag on for quite a long time. No one complained much. The beer was cold, and everybody knew everybody. It was a good time. The restaurant, which was located at the corner of Oak and Coxspur, closed in about 1975 and the building was destroyed by fire shortly after that, but Alan Patton of Zeigler provided this photo, which should bring back some memories.

Photo courtesy of Allan Patton


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The Golden Dragon

The Golden Dragon was a bar and another of several fine eating establishments in Zeigler which boasted great dinner spots, which at the time, also included Black Sam’s, Marie’s and The Den. Owned by Mike and Jenny Mikalauskas, who lived in the back of the restaurant. The Golden Dragon was also known for it’s fried chicken, but served it in an all you could eat family style format. There were probably times when the weekend crowd at Nick’s spilled over to fill the Golden Dragon, and vice versa. The building still stands on Church Street with the sign faded but legible.

The Appino Hardware Store

Appino Hardware in Christopher still stands at the corner of West Market Street and North Thomas Street. It was built by the Appino Brothers in about 1906 On the east side at the rear of the building is a doorway that used to be the entry for John Trogolo’s Steamship Business. Residents could buy their tickets there for passage to Europe or any place they wanted to go. In those days we can imagine that in most cases that place was probably a trip back home.

Photo by Jeff Gusta

Photo by Michael A. Thomas


The Proctor Building The Proctor Building was originally built by the Zeigler Coal Company as only one of their many contributions to the town of Zeigler. Research by Allan Patton provides a detailed record of the building’s history. Levi Leiter, Chicago Millionaire and his son Joseph, who came to the region to mine high quality coal, contributed much to the community. Not only were they build-ers of the structure, but they provided the company store, the first hospital in Franklin County and housing for miners and their families. The building that is now known as the Proctor Building has served many purposes over the years. The Zeigler Coal Company sold the building to the Christopher Ice and Bottle company in 1919. The second story was used as a meeting room for local organizations and mine unions. The ground floor was used for manufacturing and distribution of ice for homes and retail busi-nesses, and in 1922, Christopher Ice and Bottle sold the business to the Zeigler Ice and Bottle Company. For several years, the building also housed an accounting office for CIPS. In 1944, John Proctor purchased the building to house his sheet metal and roofing business. In 1956, Proctor’s son Robert joined his father in the business and began a successful heating and air conditioning enterprise. “They were the first that I know of to do central air,” says Allan Patton. “Wow, now that was something. It was the cutting edge in the heating and cooling busi-ness.” The Proctor Building never changed hands again. Patton wrote, “It is evident that the facility is steeped in the heritage of the ‘Boom Town,’ and reflects a fleeting look into the fabulous past of Zeigler.”

The Busy Bee

The Busy Bee was a coffee shop in Christopher, probably the kind of gathering place with endless refills on coffee and up-to-the-minute news and gossip alerts throughout the day. There seems to be no one around who remembers The Busy Bee. “It was before my time,” says Christopher historian, Bob Hoye, but it is thought that the restaurant may have been on the corner of Victor and Market, or behind that building. The really interesting thing about The Busy Bee is that the sign that marked the business was preserved and taken to the old Mulkeytown School which now serves as a museum for Western Franklin County.

Photo courtesy of Allan PattonPhoto by Jeff Gusta


The Savoy Hotel and Restaurant On the corner of Market and North State Street in Christopher, the Savoy stands, looking as though it could still be serving the dinners that brought many Southern Illinoisans to Christopher looking for a good meal. The Savoy was originally a Hotel and restau-rant. Although the hotel had been closed for years, The Savoy was still a popular eatery in the 90’s.

Hoe SupplyHoe Supply served the area as a large plumbing, elec-trical and heating supply business from about 1920 until 2000. Frank Hoe started the business, which began as Egyptian Supply. As his business grew, he added on to the building, taking in what was the Sekardi Market on one side and Union Funeral Home on the other. Judy Espy of Christopher is the granddaughter of both Frank Hoe and John Sekardi. She shared the story of how her grandparents helped shape the profile of Christopher. “John Sekardi raised cattle and had a slaughterhouse there in town,” she said. “He used to deliver meat by horse and wagon, and I know that the back (north) side of the Appino Building was where he stored his horses and wagons. My grandmother used to tell me that they had a ceiling fan in the market that was quite an attrac-tion. Many people came in to see it, because they had never seen one before.” “My grandfather, Frank Hoe, was a middle-weight boxer. He brought boxing to Christopher, because he trained and held matches at the old Opera House that was across the street from his business. Eventually, he bought the Opera House and used it as additional ware-house for Hoe Supply.”

Photo by Jeff Gusta

Photo courtesy of Bob Hoy


“Do you have a kinder, more adaptable

friend in the food world than soup? Who soothes you when you are ill? Who refuses to leave you when you are impoverished and stretches its resources to

give a hearty sustenance and cheer? Who warms you in the winter and cools you in the summer? Yet who also is capable of doing honor to your richest table and impress-ing your most demand-ing guests? Soup does its

loyal best, no matter what undignified conditions are imposed upon it. You don’t catch steak hanging around when you’re poor and sick, do you?

Judith Martin (Miss Manners)

Soothing Soup

”

TIPS FROM THE TOPTIPS FROM THE TOP


R emember the one about the elderly woman who offered the elderly man super sex?

And he replied, “Thanks, I’ll have the soup.” (cue: rimshot!) There have been great comments dedicated to soup over the years. What food could possibly live up to all the wonderful attributes of a steaming bowl of homemade soup?Heck, it doesn’t even have to be home-made to be enjoyable, but for our purposes here, we’re talking about that simmering wonderful pot on the stove that wakes up a person’s nose all from the front door to the kitchen. Soup can fill up an empty stomach or solve the problem of a stomach that’s full but a mouth that’s still hungry. Some say that soup might heal a broken heart. That’s doubtful, but if it’s good enough, it might make you put the heartache on the back burner, so to speak, at least until your bowl is empty. So we decided that if we were going to get serious about soups, we should talk to a serious soup maker, and one of the first to come to mind was Jayson Miller, chef at Fratelli’s Restaurante on Route 13 near Carterville. We’re aware that good soups are served at many fine Southern Illinois eating establishments, but if you’ve ever sampled the soup on the lunch buffet at Fratelli's, you would probably hope, like we did that Millerhas some tips to share on the art of soup making. When we visited with Chef Miller in his kitchen at Fratelli’s, we learned that the richness of the spinach artichoke soup that he made for us was surpassed only by the richness of the story he told. Miller is originally from Chicago, but lived in New Orleans for nine years. After graduation from the -----------Culi-nary Institute, he served an internship at Commander’s Palace and his externship at Restaurant August. In March of 2006, when Hurricane Katrina devastated the

city of New Orleans, Miller was chef manager of the Sun Ray Grille. “We left the day the hurricane hit,” Miller said. “We figured that like other hurricane scares, we would be back in a couple of days, but it was 45 days before I could fly back into New Orleans.” In the meantime, Miller hung out in Reno, where he took a temporary job as the featured chef at the Reno Hilton “When I first got back to New Orleans, I was living in a FEMA trailer,” Miller says. “I realized that no one around me was cooking for their families anymore, and I started cooking meals for neigh-bors. I mean that’s what New Orleans is all about…the food. Everyone cooks for everyone. I didn’t have anything but my FEMA trailer. I grew up watching the Frugal Gourmet. Everyone started call-ing me the FEMA Gourmet,” he laughs. “Of the four locations of my restau-rant, two of them were flooded, one was completely destroyed. As soon as we could get one of them up and running, I began doing meals for city hall and all kinds of catered events. It was wild. Sometimes we cooked for 900 for break-fast, 900 for lunch and 900 for dinner. We did all kinds of different contracts,” he adds. “It was a challenge. You couldn’t get just anything you wanted. There was a curfew for a long time. All the grocery stores would close early. Luckily, the big food distributors did get back on line pretty quickly, but it was different.” During that time Miller also served as executive chef for the movie “Forgotten on the Bayou,” one man’s story of the struggles in New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina. Most of Miller’s immediate family has moved from Chicago to Southern Il-linois in the past ten years. When his fa-ther was seriously injured in an industrial accident in Marion, Miller moved back to the area. When Fratelli’s owner, Chris invited him to take over the restaurant, he did so somewhat reluctantly. I insist-ed that I didn’t want to do anything but

Soothing Soup By Gail Rissi Thomas

cook, but within a couple of weeks, I was totally into it. I work at least 80 hours a week,” he admits. Fratelli’s has a soup on the menu every day and at least one soup on the lunch buffet. “We usually have two, but it just depends on what else is going on.” All soups are made from scratch and even regulars are impressed with the day to day variety. “We have Spinach Artichoke Soup, “ Miller says. “Add

“Soup is the quintessential comfort food,” says chef Jayson Miller of Fratelli’s Restorante “What better way can I relate to my customers?” Miller makes several soups from scratch for Fratelli’s including this spinach artichoke soup.


oysters and a little Anisette to that and it makes a wonderful Oyster Rockefeller. I make Tomato Basil, Pappa Pomadora, (you thicken that with day old bread), Cuban Black Bean, and I have a new one I call Three Little Pigs. That has bacon, cured ham and pork shoulder in it We serve bouillabaisse at times, and we serve cold soups some during the summer. I’m not a big fan of desserts, so I don’t make many dessert soups, but we have had watermelon soup.” “We try to do a lot more than Italian,” Miller explains. “ A little more interna-tional epicurean ––Asian, Yucatan Penin-sula. We try to broaden the spectrum for our customers. So it’s a wealth of knowledge and experiences that gives Miller the culinary expertise that he shares with the South-ern Illinoisans who frequent Fratelli’s, and we were delighted to hear him say, “Soup is my favorite thing to cook.” “You can make soup with fresh ingredients, or with leftovers. It can be a very simple recipe, one that you throw together in 30 minutes, or it can simmer for hours like a good Marinara sauce. You can thicken soup in many different ways that are very simple––cheese for instance. I use Parmesan, Mozzarella, Brie, Gruyere. I am just care-ful not to us a cheese that is contrary to the soup I am making. If I’m cooking a Mexican Tortilla soup for instance, I’m careful to use a cheese that complements the Mexican

TIPS FROM THE TOP

flavors.” “Garnishes are the same way,” Miller adds. “Toasted bread is always a great garnish, but I try to use a garnish that is already a flavor in the soup. Something colorful, carrots, red onion, parsley is good, but you want it to be something that will stay true to the flavor of the soup and not change the dynamic.” “Think about it,” Miller explains. “Soup is the quintessential comfort food. What better way can I relate to my customers. Soup is what our mothers gave us. If you’re sick, if you’re poor, if you’re cold – soup. Just the idea of it is full of warmth, love and memories.” So it sounds like once we learn to think outside the can, imagination is the only limitation. Anyone can be a soup specialist. And just to help us along, Chef Miller shared with us the very same Spinach Artichoke Soup that he makes and serves at Fratelli’s. It just doesn’t get much better than that.

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(Optional) Garnish with toasted crusty bread, crumbled bacon, diced red onion and sun-dried tomatoes.

17

Ingredients:1 tbsp olive oil½ cup red onion (small dice)½ cup celery (small dice)½ cup carrots (small dice)4 cloves of garlic (minced)4 cups chicken stock1 (10 oz.) package frozen chopped spinach1 (14 oz.) can artichoke hearts (quartered)4 oz. cream cheese½ cup heavy cream2 oz. parmesan cheese2 oz. mozzarella cheese6 slices bacon (cooked & crumbled) reserve bacon grease1 oz. anisette (optional)salt & pepper to taste

(Note: add oysters to above for a nice rendition of“Oyster Rockefeller Soup”

Directions:

Saute mirepoix (onions, celery & 1. carrots) in oil and reserved bacon grease until tender (about 7-10 minutes)Add garlic and sauté (about 1 2. minute)Add chicken stock, spinach and ½ 3. of the artichoke hearts.Increase heat to medium-high and 4. let simmer for about 5 minutes.Reduce heat to medium and puree 5. with an immersion blender.Add cream cheese, parmesan, 6. mozzarella, and heavy cream, stirring until incorporated. Salt and pepper to taste.

Spinach Artichoke Soup


By Brad Arnold

I’d like to shed a little light on the current financial situation for you. Just so you don’t fall asleep,

we’ll call on the sharp wit of Will Rog-ers (1879-1935), one of America’s most famous humorists and political observer, for some help.

Now, let’s get going. What happens when too many people and too many businesses borrow too much money for too long? What hap-pens when we buy houses we can barely afford and take loans out on these homes because, by George, they keep giving us the money, so it must be OK? What hap-pens when greed greatly overtakes fear?

We get our current economic dilemma, where fear has now overtaken greed.

What to do? First, don’t panic. Operate some-where between fear and greed. We’ll call it “prudence”. Make financial decisions calmly and carefully. We’ll call it “com-mon sense”. News of the world ending is greatly exaggerated, and although I believe this will probably be remem-bered in history as one of the worst recessions ever, it’s currently nowhere near the magnitude of the Great Depres-sion. If Will were alive today, I believe he would say, “My fellow Americans, I was around during the Great Depression; I got to know the Great Depression well. My fellow Americans, this is no Great Depression.”

Government Intervention While the right intervention could help our economy, no one seems to know what that might be. I feel Congress could create more permanent jobs by reducing their role, cutting the pork, and caus-ing job creation and spending through tax incentives (i.e., lower taxes). Some would call this approach “Reaganomics”. Allowing weaker industry participants to consolidate since, in my opinion, they may do it anyway, could save a portion of our tax dollars. I feel that throwing money at the problem only prolongs this inevitability. Will Rogers once said, “Be thankful we’re not getting all the govern-ment we’re paying for.” We may be.

“Things will get better – despite our efforts to improve them”

--Will Rogers--


Other thoughts: I believe the gov-ernment does need to help stabilize our financial system (credit markets). And we need government regulation; we just don’t need too much regulation, which could happen after a shock to the finan-cial system such as we’ve seen recently. Of course, part of our current mess may be from a lack of scrutiny. If only the folks on Capitol Hill could just find the middle ground and stay there.

Back to prudence and common sense As far as the stock market goes, it’s one of the few places people generally abandon when prices go down. Now, if an item of clothing you wanted went on sale at 50% off, you would consider buying it. If the same happens with the stock market, shouldn’t we consider buying it too? As Will would say, “Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.” Remember, the market is made up of more than stocks and bonds and there are many ways to manage a portfolio. If you don’t have the time and ability to care-fully craft and prudently manage a good investment plan, just find a good advisor who does: one who will focus on your unique situation and put your interests first. Two final thoughts from Will Rogers that make sense to me: “Things will get better – despite our efforts to improve them” and “America is a land of oppor-tunity, and don’t ever forget it.” Brad ArnoldFinancial AdvisorVice President-Investment OfficerWachovia Securities1401 Financial ParkCarbondale, IL618-457-8145

Past performance is not indicative of future results. The accuracy and completeness of this article are not guaranteed. The opinions expressed are those of the author and are not necessarily those of Wachovia Securities/Wachovia Securities Financial Network or its affiliates. The material is distributed solely for information purposes and is not a solicitation or an offer to buy any security or instrument or to participate in any trading strategy. Wachovia Securities is the trade name used by two separate registered broker-dealers: Wachovia Securities, LLC, and Wachovia Securities Financial Network, LLC, Members SIPC, non-bank affiliates of Wells Fargo & Company. Investments in securities and insurance products: NOT FDIC-INSURED/NOT BANK-GUARANTEED/MAY LOSE VALUE

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When it comes to friendship, women of all ages know the value of ‘Sisterhood’.

Dressed for their “Sex and the City” party, girlfriends Am-ber Lee, Mulkeytown; Leigh Gusta, Herrin; Kim Sneed, Herrin and Shauna Murphy, Marion stand outside the theater before watching the movie. (photo provided)


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By Gail Rissi Thomas

Some wise and witty person—unfortunately we don’t know who—said, “A good friend will

bail you out of jail, but a really good friend is in the cell next to you, saying, ‘Man that was fun.’” I could be wrong about this, but, chances are pretty good that those friends in the adjoining cells are women. No one gets more carried away with celebrating friendship than girlfriends. Just Google, “Hey Girlfriend,” and 1,560,000 hits confirm that women every-where are acknowledging the bonds of friendship in amusing, creative and heartfelt ways. We heard a story recently about a group of Southern Illinois twenty/thirty- something women who know how to stage signifi-cant gatherings over insignificant events. No detail is too much trouble when it comes to sharing something they all enjoy. Come on, people have been doing it for the super bowl for 42 years, right? When “Sex and the City” became a movie, complete with Sarah Jessica Parker and a happy ending (finally), the group held a “Sex and the City” party. No guys allowed, of course. Kim Sneed played hostess to the pre

movie party, complete with Chi-nese food. (That’s what they eat a lot of on “Sex and the City,” in case you’re not a fan), table deco-rations and a printed menu. Most of the gal pals dressed the part as evidenced in the photo taken at the theater.

This was not the first time the friends gathered for a common cause. “All last year, we met every Thursday night to watch “Grey’s Anatomy” together,” said Leigh Gusta of Herrin, one of the nine friends. “We all brought snacks and wine, and of course, that was girls only too.” Although the girlfriends didn’t dress in scrubs or hospital gowns, they often wore pj pants,” Gusta admit-ted. Although the “Sex in the City” girls celebrate a more recent rela-tionship, women seem to be likely to nurture a friendship through

Themed table decorations and a printed menu turned a simple gathering in to a festive occasionat a recent “Sex and the City” party held by a group of young Southern Illinois women.

“We celebrate each other’s achievements, opening an ex-ercise studio, a corner store, a jewelry business. We throw each other birthday parties, stain the ru g and shatter the wine glasses.”

--Author Kelly Corrigan--Reflecting on women’s friend-ships


decades, never letting go, regard-less of where life might take them. A good example of that kind of commitment is a friend-ship shared by a group of women in West Frankfort who recently met in Sarasota, FL to celebrate their 75th birthdays. “We were like teenagers,” explained Sylvia Tharp comment-ing on the women only gathering. “We did all kinds of things. We went to two dinner theaters. We ate out: we shopped; we walked on the beach.” A nine hour birth-day party was the highlight of the four day get-together. “We all brought unique birthday gifts for everyone,” Tharp said. “For in-stance, one of the gifts was a tote bag for each of us with everyone’s senior picture on each one. Patsy Horrell brought everyone a white T-shirt with blue lettering that said, “Inside every woman, there’s a younger woman screaming, ‘What the hell happened?’” The women who came from Illinois, California, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado and Florida had been friends since junior high

and some since grade school. “Blondell Mings Kern, who hosted the party, passed out candy to everyone. We had red wax lips, Teaberry and Black Jack Gum, candy cigarettes, and stuff like that. We were all kids again. We had a lot of laughs, and some tears too. Of course, some of our group had passed away over the years.”

“Even for all the years we’ve gone our separate ways, the laughter, the sharing and the warmth were all present,” Tharp added, “and our hearts felt com-fortably at home. Our friendship remains alive and well no matter what we are doing and is a bless-ing to all of us. We plan to meet again this year.” “Greater love hath no man then to lay down his life for a friend.” We all know who said that. John 15:13. This is not to say that a man wouldn’t be in-clined to make a personal sacrifice for a male friend. It happens all the time. But for the sake of the topic at hand one Southern Illinois woman’s unselfish act comes to mind as an example. In October of 2004, Karen Williams of West Frankfort donated a kidney to Jen-nifer Anderson of Creal Springs. The two women were friends only by their association at South-ern Illinois Orthopedic Clinic in Carterville where they were both

Bonds formed during childhood remain strong for these women who grew up together in West Frankfort and recently met in Sarasota to celebrate their 75th birthdays and renew their friendship. “Even for all the years we’ve gone our separate ways, the laughter, the sharing and the warmth were all present,”said Sylvia Tharp, one of the members. (Photo courtesy of Slyvia Tharp)


employed. “We had been playing around with this for a couple of years,” Williams said. “We’d been hold-ing fundraisers and things like that. Most of us were tested to see if we could be donors. Jennifer had ac-tually received a kidney from her sister and was do-ing better, but in the eighth month of her pregnancy, her body rejected the kidney. She was just so sick. She had Hannah, her baby girl. She was working so hard, trying to take care of her, keep her job, and go-ing for dialysis three times a week. She just looked so terrible. It seemed like every time I looked up, there she was, coming back to work after dialysis. She really kept her act together, and I admired her.” “Of course I was a little nervous about it,” Wil-liams said.. When we were at Mayo’s they kept telling me that up until the time I was put to sleep, I could still change my mind if I wanted to. I wouldn’t do that to her. I told her I would do it, and I did. Looking back, would she do it again?” “Well I wish I could,” Williams said with a smile, “but I only have one left.”

In an unshelfish act of friendship Karen Williams of West Frankfort, (left) donated one of her kidneys to friend and co-worker Jennifer Anderson of Creal Springs. (Photo courtesy of Karen


I

It’s 7:30 a.m. and our son Jay is stand-ing in the bathroom wrapped in a towel. It’s a school day and time to

be getting dressed and on his way, but he is waiting for something. Zimmer Ra-dio’s Magic 95.1 morning show booms from the bathroom radio. Jay has Down

syndrome and autism, and on slow days, grumpy days, or just, “I don’t wanna go days,” his dad and I have one magic bul-let in our arsenal of persuasive weapons, “Jay, you don’t want to miss singing the “Heigh-Ho” song with Pat Benton.” Sometime in the last few years since we first dialed into Benton’s” daily

“Celebration of Life,” we realized what a powerful ally we had in Benton’s early morning chatter, anecdotes, jokes and personal commentary laced with a string of very easy to listen to “light rock, and a steady stream of callers with birthday and anniversary greetings for fellow Southern Illinoisans. Add Jay’s addiction



to the happy little ditty associated with the seven dwarfs as they tromp off to work, and life gets even easier. We also realized that we must not be the only area family that enjoys (should I say depends?) on the morning “Heigh-Ho” song to keep things moving along in the morning, and upon inquiring

found out that we are only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. “I discontinued it for a while,” Pat explained when we visited him early one morning with Jay in tow. “I just thought maybe it was getting a little old. I heard that some residents at a nursing home didn’t really like it. It was too loud and raucous for so early in

the morning, so I stopped doing it. But I got so many complaints that I had to start again.” “I’ve also moved it around to differ-ent time slots,” he added. “I used to do it a little later, but heard from people who had whole station wagons full of kids sit-ting in the parking lot at school and not

Graphic Illustration by Michael A. Thomas


getting out of the car until they sang the Heigh Ho song with me.” Benton admits almost guiltily that there are several school busses around the area that have radios on even though that is technically not allowed. “But the whole bus load of kids likes to sing the Heigh Ho song on their way to school,” he says. So now Benton tries to do the song between 7:30 and 7:35 each morning. “Heigh-Ho”, Pat Benton style, is short and simple. Sung along with a recording accompanied by stereotypi-cal Alpine mountain music, it begins with a loud and extended “Heigh Hoooooooooooo,” followed by another “Heigh Hooooooooooo”. And then it’s the regular “Heigh ho, heigh ho, It’s off to work (“and school,” Pat adds) we go”. The next two lines-where the dwarfs whistle- Pat fills in with whatever fits the day. “Today’s a Monday; I don’t wanna’ go,” or “We’re gonna get wet; it’s gonna rain all day,” or whatever, and ends with a big “Heigh ho, Heigh ho”. That’s it. One verse and out. You’re on your way. Benton was born in Scotts Bluff, Neb., but grew up in St. Louis, where he attended Riverview Gardens High school. He’s been doing radio for 40 years. “I’ve been doing mornings for about 30 years,” he says. “Actually, my first job at a radio station was at an all-Spanish station in Chicago. Of course, I couldn’t speak Spanish at all. The law said that they had to have a station iden-tification broadcast once every hour, and they had to have one English speaking

person on staff. That was I. I would sit there and study and when the time came for my line, I said it and went back to studying.”

“I had a job for a while as a bouncer at Bruno’s Bat Cave in St. Louis. The club was owned by Johnny Rabbit, the DJ from KXOK. I used to watch him drive up in this big car at night, and I would think, ‘Wow, that’s the job for me. I didn’t realize that the big car didn’t al-ways come with a DJ job. It sure looked like the good life to me.” Benton’s career from that point took him through a variety of stations in a variety of places and a variety of shticks and gimmicks that helped him become a popular radio personality. “I started the “Heigh-Ho” song in about the second week at KCSR, a radio station in Chad-ron, Neb.. I was using “Good Morning, Good Morning” from Singing in the Rain, but it was pretty long. I switched to “Heigh-Ho” and cut it down to about a minute.” A minute is a long time in a morning radio show, where things have to stay

lively and move quickly. The high level of energy he brings to the listening audi-ence is evident on the airways, but even more obvious if you have the chance to see him at work. Benton stands up in the broadcasting booth throughout the show, moving around, waving his arms as if there is a viewing audience. “I can’t sit down when I’m doing this,” he says. It’s not entirely a one-man show, but a team of relay players who interact with the fun and fellowship of old friends over coffee. The news is delivered by Rick Cason, but begins with a string of weird or funny stories with much discus-sion between Cason and Benton, giving listeners that bonding that “We’re all the good guys – all in this together. Every-one else out there is crazy.” Phil Oscilanec stops by to render sports, but again, easy banter and good-natured insults take place before and after that spot, with lots of talk about their personal favorites and prejudices. Most listeners know that Benton is a big Nebraska Cornhuskers and Saluki fan and hates the NBA. Although it’s a team that entertains and informs listeners for part of the show, there’s no question that it’s Pat Benton’s performance, and it’s a unique series of gimmicks and a bag of tricks that has made him the radio personality

Unlike other broadcasters, Benton prefers to stand while working the panel. “I have too much to do to sit,” he explains.

“ I get up at 2:30 in the morning. That gives me time to pray and meditate for 45 minutes before I head to work. Every morning I end my prayer with, ‘Lord, help me to make this day better for at least one person today.’ If I can just do that, it will be a good day.”

--Pat Benton--

Sports reporter Phil Oscilanec gives as well as takes when in comes to good-natured barbs on the air with Benton.


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that he has become over the years. “Oh my gosh, I’ve done so many crazy things. I can’t remember them all. Let me think,” he says. “Back years ago when I was doing mornings in West Plains, Neb., we were in the middle of a huge drought. I decided we would help out, so we did a big rain event. We went down to the town square. I had a rainmaking machine. We had the high school band and cheerleaders there, and we even had some of the Indians come in and do a real rain dance. Well, lo and behold, it started to rain. We couldn’t believe it! It only took us a little while to realize that the fire depart-ment had brought in the snorkel and were up on the roof behind us spraying us all with water,” he laughs. “We really believed for a minute that we had made it rain.” “Of course every morning at six o’clock, I milk the chickens,” he continued. “What? You never heard me milk the chickens? Well tune in at six some morning and you will. I used to do that when I first came to Southern Illinois at W3D. I’d get back there first thing in the morning. Me and Pop the janitor and Captain Mike we’d have all this clucking and flapping going on and we’d put on our rubber gloves and milk the chickens.” Listening to Benton talk about the chicken milking procedure is so convincing that it takes a moment to realize that it another radio shtick. Captain Mike, the traffic helicopter pilot, and Pop the Janitor, a crotchety old man who hangs around the station, are all creations of his imagination, complete with their own jokes and voices, all brought to life by Benton, himself. “I may have to go back to country some day and get those guys out of retirement,” he says with a smile. “ Heck, now I am Pop the Janitor.” “I milk the chickens now, but it’s not nearly as big a deal as what I used to do—not nearly as long. You know, when I started it on W3D, the boss didn’t like it. They hired me because they wanted personality radio, but I guess not that much personality. So I had to stop doing it. Well, at about that time, we had a trade show at John A Logan, and we were going to be set up there. That morning, and I’m still not sure how it happened, people started showing up with chickens, crocheted chickens, rubber chickens, ceramic chickens, just all kinds of chickens. They were showing their support for the milking the chicken segment. It was hilarious.” “Heck, I was even married on the radio,” he adds. “I met my wife, Linda in West Plains, Neb., and we have six kids. It’s a yours, mine and ours situation. They’re all grown up now, but we have six grandkids and one on the way.” The effects that Benton may have on people’s lives in Southern Illinois are impossible to measure, but one aspect of his influence is unmistakable, not only throughout the year, but especially during the holiday season. That’s when he spends unlimited energy on his project, “Pat’s Kids,” which raises thousands of


dollars for neglected and abused children in Southern Illinois. In conjunction with the Poshard Foundation the effort has provided nearly a million dollars in the past seven years to brighten the lives of children in miserable or difficult situ-ations, all done without a dime of the money going toward any administration cost. All the gags and the connection that Benton brings to his listening audience

come from much more than a vivid imagination. A big part of Benton’s life has been influenced by personal suf-fering that makes him understand and empathize with some of the struggles that many people are fac-ing as they start their day. “I came home from Vietnam with a heroin addiction,” he explains. “I’m a recovering alcoholic and drug addict, and I’ve been sober for 22 years. My dad was an alcoholic and I hated it, but I spent years where my life was a mess. I lost jobs over it. I lost a family over it. I went over nine months

without a job, because nobody trusted me, and I couldn’t blame them. I finally went to a free clinic and got better. I don’t know why – you just get to a point where that’s all you can do. There’s nowhere else to go, no other way out. It took a lot of prayer-- a lot of prayer.” And for our son, Jay, and the kids like him who need a little boost in the mornings to get on with their routine,

It isn’t just all talk. As effortless as Benton makes is sound to his listeners, he is constantly cueing songs and commercials and occasional sound effects. He also answers the phone with requests for birthday and anniversary wishes as well and keeps an eye on the clock for news and sports breaks.

Benton briefly stopped singing the “Heigh-Ho” song, but he got so many com-plaints from lis-teners he had to put it back on the air.

In addition to singing the “Heigh-Ho” song, Benton also ‘milks the chickens’ each morning at about 6 AM.


someone else has joined the cause. Lo and behold,” Benton says, “Black Diamond Harley Davidson in Marion came to us this year and asked to sponsor the “Heigh-Ho” song. That has got to be a first. Can you imagine someone paying to hear me sing? It has never ever been sponsored by anyone. I thought it would be popular when I started it, but I didn’t think I’d be singing it the rest of my life.” Jeremy Pinkston, marketing director at the Black Diamond Dealership, said that the sponsorship of the “Heigh-Ho” song was a no brainer. “Everybody’s heard it or heard about it,” he said. “Anyone who knows any-thing about us knows that we like to do things that are really different, things that nobody else has done. I just thought it was a good idea.” Benton’s job at the radio starts early, but his day starts long before that. “ I get up at 2:30 in the morning. That gives me time to pray and meditate for 45 minutes before I head to work. Every morning I end my prayer with, ‘Lord, help me to make this day better for at least one person today. If I can just do that, it will be a good day. I know there are a lot of people out there struggling with addiction. I just would hope that I can help someone to believe that they can do it. It takes a lot of help and a lot of prayer, but you can do it. I really have a reason to celebrate life every day.”

Jay Thomas, West Frankfort, gets ready to sing the “Heigh-Ho” song with Benton during a recent morning broadcast. Benton frequently has his live guests or callers join him in the morning singing. “You don’t have to be good,” he tells them. “Just loud.”



A t one time my sister and I owned a bakery and got to interact a lot with the public, It

gave us the opportunity to meet a lot of individuals with special requests, and some are so adamant about what they want that you can’t help but wonder what it’s really all about. An example that my sister reminded me of just the other day was an elderly man that came in with recipes. Smudged and worn, the recipes were hand-written and he explained to us that they were the recipes for dishes that his wife had cooked all their married life. She was now in the final stages of cancer and he spent most of her waking hours trying to persuade her to eat. He talked to her about different foods that they had en-joyed, and at the least glimmer of interest from her, he would race to our bakery with the recipe to see if we could repro-duce it. He reasoned it might get her to eat something, therefore stimulate her appetite so that she could get stronger. We had kind of an unwritten policy not to try duplicating recipes like that, (other people had asked.) but try we did.

I don’t know if we ever came that close, but we followed her recipes meticulous-ly. When we asked on each subsequent visit if we had gotten it right, he would say it was very good, but she could eat only a tiny bit. I am not sure if we ever knew his name. Eventually, he had no more reason to come to the bakery. I’ve often thought about a late sum-mer afternoon several years ago, just as I was turning out lights and getting ready to lock up, a woman shoved open the door and hurried into the room nearly sliding into the front counter in her rush. “Hi,” I said, not really overjoyed that she got there in time to keep me from leav-ing. “Can I help you?” “Oh, gosh,” she gasped. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I need a cake, an Italian Cream cake; can you make me one? Someone told me to get it here.” “Well, when do you need it?”, I asked, almost thinking that she intended to wait while I baked it. ”I need it tomor-row,” she answered. “And I need it to look like it’s homemade. Can you do that?” “Well,” I answered smugly. “All of our cakes are homemade.” “No,” she said. “I want it to look homemade—like I baked it, or someone else. I don’t want it to look too good, like a bakery.” I was beginning to get the

picture here. She wanted a cake that she could pass off as one she baked herself. I knew this story. I had often had people bring in their own cake plate, so that I could put the cake on it rather than a cardboard or bakery round. “Yeah, I can do that,” I answered without any enthusiasm for the project. “You probably don’t want any borders on it?” “That’s right.” She broke into a big smile of relief. “No borders, noth-ing fancy. I’ll be back about this time tomorrow. Okay?” “Sure,” I said, still feeling a little grumpy about this for some reason. “We close at five. You’ll have to get here a little bit earlier.” “I will,” she agreed. “I’ll see if I can clock out from work 10 minutes earlier.” She left without ever asking the price, and I, very stupidly, I told myself, let her leave without asking her name. Never-theless, I knew that I wouldn’t forget her or the order. I baked the cake the next day, going through all the steps that it requires which makes it one of my least favorite chores. I beat the egg whites separately and folded them into the batter. When I slid the finished cake out of the oven, it was a perfect golden brown, and when I assembled the two layers, (I usually made three, but I didn’t want it to look that good), I looked at it with dismay. It was beautiful. It stood majestically on the counter top without even a hint of leaning or sliding. I’ve had these cakes do everything

The Cake Story

Sometimes life’s lessons come to us in unexpected ways


from sticking in the pan to seemingly jump off the table if that was what it would take to make them fall apart. Not this cake. As I sprinkled the frosting with chopped nuts and refrained from topping it off with borders, I winced as I thought this may be the most profes-sional looking Italian Cream cake I had ever baked. Late that afternoon I took the cake out to the bakery showroom, and at the stroke of five, the harried customer came charging into the bakery. “Oh, I almost didn’t get here in time,” she huffed. She stopped short when she saw the cake. “Oh, that’s great. It’s wonderful.”“It’s OK then?” I asked. I studied her face; her satisfaction was obvious. “Well,” I asked. “Do you want it in a box?” I smirked just a little thinking how she was going to serve this cake and enjoy the complements on her baking tal-ent. “Uh, yes please. Just so I can get it home.” Nosey me, I had to confirm what I already knew. “Is this cake going to a party?”, I continued with a little smile. “Well,” she responded, “it’s going to the ladies meeting at the church tonight.

Everyone on tonight’s committee brings their most special dessert.” I refrained from shaking my head in disbelief as I fastened the corners of the white chip board box, but instead, very calmly asked, “Oh, then you’re just going to tell them that you made the cake? “Oh no,” she laughed. “I’d never do that. I think they’d all know better anyway. No, it’s for my mother-in-law to take. She always brought her Italian Cream cake, but she has Alzheimer’s now. I hope she’ll think that she made it. I kind of think she might. But even if she knows she didn’t she’ll still have something to share that she can be proud of.” “Oh,” I said. Just “Oh.” I didn’t add ‘that’s nice’, which of course it was. It was more than nice. It was generous and thoughtful and wonderful. I don’t remember if I said much more than “Thank you,” as I rang up the sale, took her money and watched as she picked up her precious cargo from the counter and let herself out the front door. I was lost in thought, as I locked the door behind her and turned the OPEN

sign to CLOSED. I was thinking about how much we all take our abilities and talents, even the most menial ones, for granted, thinking that we do what we do so well, that nobody else can do it as well, thinking that we will always be able to do what comes easy for us now. I was thinking about the lady who would take the cake to the meeting, and I was hoping that she would be swamped with compliments from old friends who knew her, even if she no longer knew them, telling her that she will always be remembered for her Italian Cream cake. I was thinking about the lady’s daughter-in-lawwho made time in a very busy day to help her husband’s mother be the person she had always been, to help her to remember the feeling of pride and positive self-esteem. And as I walked out into the heat of the late summer afternoon, the word “compassion” kept coming to mind. And I was so grateful that my customer knew exactly what her mother-in-law needed, and was unselfish enough, kind enough and loving enough to make sure she got it. May we all be so fortunate.


D id you know that the 20th president, James. A. Garfield, was the last of our log cabin

presidents and served in office less than a year after being shot at a train station? It wasn’t even the shot that killed him. It was the infection he

developed from bad medical care.

Did you also know that William Taft was so big he once got stuck in a bathtub in the White House? He was also the last president to have a milk-ing cow on the White House lawn.

In case you were wondering, no, I was not a history or political science major in school. To be quite honest, I was never very interested in his-tory, though I do enjoy the occasional passionate political debate. No, my knowledge of random political fac-toids comes not from my love for all things presidential, but rather for my dislike for all things St. Valentine. Let me explain.

I have a friend who says he tries not to leave his apartment between October 31 and February 14th. He says it’s a period of time designed to make single people feel, well, single. More single than usual. You have the Halloween parties, where cute couples show up in team costumes, minimizing the humiliation that you are grown-up people dressed up as SpongeBob SquarePants and his pineapple sidekick. When you have to come up with something as a single person, forget it. I usually dress as something so cerebral that I spend the entire night explaining it. “I am partly cloudy with a chance of rain,” I repeat dryly, dressed in a black leotard with clumps of cotton balls taped to my torso as I spray a mist of water from a recycled Win-dex bottle. But I digress….

This public stigmatization is fol-lowed by the warm, Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays, where couples are having parties for their couple friends, when they are not nesting out the cold winter months at home to-gether. Just when you are recovering from the strange emotional combina-tion of loneliness and relief, it hits you: The big VD is looming. Valen-tine’s Day. And you have nothing to wear and nowhere to go.

Sooo….in 2006, my girlfriends and I found ourselves in the unusual posi-tion of all of us being single. At the same time. For Valentine’s Day. This rarely happens. So one of us came

BeJeweled by Julie Willis

Graphic by Michael A. Thomas


up with the GREAT idea to celebrate together. But what was there to celebrate? A restaurant was out of the question. Dinner at someone’s place? Better. Nothing at all resembling romance or red hearts, or even chocolate. What could be the most unromantic, un-Valentine’s Day theme we could come up with?

Why, President’s day, of course!!! So we pulled out the red, white and blue and went to work. We all brought a dish for dinner and then convened. There was just one rule. You had to pick a president, do thorough research, and present a report to the group. Hand outs and take homes were a plus. I was surprised how nervous I was. It felt like a school report and public speech all in one. In an effort to avoid intellectual laziness, along with my internet research, I also went to the New York Public Library and checked out an actual book! I gave a report on Taft, and actually handed out a page from a coloring book I found where we could actually color William Howard Taft. Fun. And nerdy. But fun.

By the end of the evening I found out interesting and useless facts on Lyndon Johnson, Chester Arthur, Martin Van Buren, and the earlier above mentioned James A. Garfield. It was actually fun. We forgot for a brief time that we were in a city filled with ro-mantic couples and just enjoyed our singlehood and friendship. We learned a few things too. I left with a sense a sisterhood that can only be found through girlfriends, and I also got a nice little bookmark featuring Old Kinderhook himself, President Van Buren. I told you it was nerdy.

That was the first and only time we did President’s Day. By February of 2007, there was a marriage and 2 engagements. See how fast things can happen? However, we have decided this year on February 14th we will once again celebrate and learn more about our Nation’s leaders. Without going into too much detail, let’s just say almost all of us are single again. And trust me, this time, it is a reason to cel-ebrate.

Originally from West Frankfort, Julie Wil-lis is currently living in New York, New York, where she is an Adjunct Profes-sor in the Department of Humanities at Hudson County Community College, part-time actress, and part-time waitress. She is working on a solo performance piece, “Amazing Grace,” due to debut in the Spring.


Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Jim Chamness of Royalton likes to do “something special” for his wife Ramona every Valentine’s Day so it is little wonder that this year he went one step beyond giving her the

typical heart-shaped box of chocolates. On Valentine’s Day Eve Jim surprised Ramona, a first grade teacher at Zeigler-Royalton Grade School, with a live barbershop quartet. As the class and Jim looked on, the quartet sang “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” to Ramona as she sat smiling at her desk. “It certainly was a sur-prise,” said Ramona afterwards.

Right: Jim Chamness is all smiles as he watches his wife’s reaction to the surprise.Below: Barbershoppers (l-r): Churb Cralley, Andy Belobarydic, Danve Danders and Lee Sanders.Bottom Left: Ramona is surprised with a single red rose and a card before the serenade.

Photos and Text by Michael A. Thomas


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Upshot of A KissThere is something in almost every wedding that sets it apart from all the rest, something that people will talk about for a long time after. InHerrin, Ill., Glenda Hargraves had just been married to Ronald Bo-twinski. On the steps of the churchtwinski. On the steps of the churchthe bride lifted her veil and shuther eyes for the wedding kiss. At the moment that the bridegroom kissed her, the veil stood straightup in the air. It was a gust of wind that did the trick, but it seemed to the wedding guests that the kiss the wedding guests that the kiss was having an electrifying effect

Photo by Louis A. FrenchOctober, 1956

The

Kiss of a LIFEtime


Kiss of a LIFEtime

A kiss can be electrify-ing. Add the ideal situation, location (perfect costuming) and a photographer

who is on the ball. Enhance it with a little gust of wind, cour-tesy of Mother Nature and voila: you’ve got the kiss of a lifetime. For Ron and Glenda Botwinski of Herrin, their kiss on the steps of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church on their wedding day in October of 1956, captured by Louis French of French’s Studio on Herrin, has brought them re-peated traces of fame throughout their married life. And now, 53 years later, here it is again. “Ron and I were both living in Chicago at the time,´ Glenda explains.”Ron worked for the railroad, and I was working for Time, Inc., in the accounts pay-able department,” “When I got the proofs from my wedding, I brought them to work with me to show them around. When one of the photographers there saw the picture of the kiss with my veil in the air, he said, ‘you have just got to let me send that picture to New York” “Well I agreed, and I don’t remember exactly how it all hap-pened, but on June 24, 1957, our photo was the full page of the

back inside cover on what they called the miscellany page.” The photo was captioned, “Upshot of a Kiss.” In 1959 after the birth of their first son, the Botwinskis moved back to Herrin where they have raised a family of five children. They were founders of Service-Master in Herrin which they owned and operated until 1981. Over the years, the famous photo has surfaced in other places when they least expected it. “We took

our kids to the Museum of Sci-ence and Industry one summer, “ Glenda recalls. “The oldest ones were off looking at something and came running back to us all excited, saying, “We just saw your picture on a slide show over there. We went with them and sure enough, there was the photo from LIFE again.” “Some friends went to the Muny Opera one summer and found that the photo had been used on the back of the theater program,” Ron adds. But perhaps the greatest honor of all was that the photo graces a full page of the book, “LIFE Smiles Back,” a 1987 published collection of 200 of the best Miscellany pages of LIFE Magazine over the years. Neither Ron nor Glenda can explain exactly what happened at the moment of that magical kiss to cause Glenda’s bridal veil to stand on end. Both agree that it wasn’t a particularly windy day, just a small breeze, at the right angle at the right moment, and a photogra-pher at the ready. But Ron, with a whimsical smile, offers a bettersuggestion for the most important component of the kiss that lasted a lifetime. “Enthusiasm.” Ron and Glenda Botwinski, Herrin, have

enjoyed their ‘15 minutes of fame’ which has now lasted over 53 years.

Phot

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