Our Shared Reality

One late toasty-warm August afternoon when pancakes baked on the sidewalk, I stood in line at the post office, enjoying the cool air while waiting to mail a large stack of my Miami Golf and Country Club History books that I self-published. I was weary that afternoon but still my adrenaline flowed from the excitement of selling nearly 100 books. 

I only printed 30 to begin with and never expected more. It took two more printings to have 100 copies. 

Stepping up to the counter I plopped the packages down with relief. With a tired but proud smile, I looked at the lady in white and blue and stated, "I'd like to mail these books in media rate, please."

She returned the smile, placed one on the weight machine, checked the location and zip code and while placing the stickers on the the package she asked, "Are you an author?"

The question caught me off guard. Two book signings, one in Miami, Oklahoma and the other in Tulsa, were most successful for me and for the people who dropped by to purchase the book, but I never thought of myself as an author. I was a writer, yes, but an author is well-known, has books in the public libraries, and makes money. 

After watching her weigh the second book and checking the address I finally replied, "Yes, I am an author and this is the history book I wrote about my hometown, the golf course where I grew up, and the people who were a part of my life."

Letty Stapp Watt, Vicki Martin Reynolds, Jonya Stapp Pry, Dobson Museum, Miami, Oklahoma

 

In full conversation by now she replied, "Oh, I wish I could write the story of the mountain in Washington state where I grew up skiing every winter and the lodge we called home." 

I saw her name "Cori" on the top left shelf of her post office station. It was a painted brick with her name engraved in stylish lettering. No one else could claim that station and her name. I liked her creative and individual taste. As she finished weighing and marking each package the doors to the post office locked, but we continued to talk about our shared histories and how people had come and gone in our lives. 

Even though we were separated in age by twenty years and 2,000 miles growing up in Washington state and Oklahoma, we found a common bond. 

Judy Woodruff said after a story she shared on PBS, 

"The need for a shared reality is one-way stories and history bring us together."

Authors, writers, journalists, storytellers, teachers, parents, ministers, historians, civic leaders......all possess the power of words to bring us together. We often look for stories that touch us inwardly, that connect us to others or another time and place.

I found this to be true, when a few days later I asked for help in the Hallmark store. I explained that I needed thank you notes for the many people who helped me publish the book and who encouraged and challenged me to finish it. The ladies looked at the various boxes that I had picked out and we talked our way through the best choice (I bought two boxes of Thank You notes.) 

One lady** asked what I had written. I replied, "I've collected stories and created a timeline of the last seventy years of the people who built my town and the golf course where I grew up."

She lite up, "Are you a golfer?" 

I laughed, "Yes, I am and have been since the time I could walk."

"Oh, you lucky girl," she pipped. "I have always wanted to play golf, but never found the time. I watch it on television on the weekends and once went to a championship in Tulsa."  We chatted a few more minutes and then she asked, "May I buy one of your books?"

"Let me bring one in for you to see," I suggested. A few minutes later, she sat down with the book and thumbed through the pages. "Where are you in this story?" 

"Starting in the early sixties," I said, then turned a few pages until we reached a decade she recalled. "I want to buy your book. How much?" 

I was stunned. This lady didn't play golf nor had any connection to it, like I might have thought. "The book costs $35."

She took $35.00 out of her purse and asked, "Would you autograph it me."

As I was leaving the store, she said, "Thank you. I want to read about others who have lived during my time and understand what it was like." 

I beamed with gratitude and felt tears well up in my heart with her kindness and soft spoken words. 

(**The one lady, a perfect stranger, at the Hallmark made a difference in my life by asking to buy my book. A book that I thought would not be read by others. She and I now know each other by first names. Thank you Sandy (Beach) Patterson for sharing your life and stories with me.)

I became a storyteller decades ago, thanks to a job at the Miami Public Library, because I saw people laugh and connect with the personal stories that I heard at the Miami Golf and Country Club, the stories my parents shared about the depression, the war, and the people who had come and gone in their early lives. (Some of the stories might be called "fishing for a good line or lie." I was never sure as a child how to take that.)

George Haralson and Thursday

One of my favorite memories to share is of an English bulldog named Thursday, who roamed the club in the late 1950's. His official home was on Yale Street and his backyard became the golf course and the clubhouse. One July 4, I witnessed Thursday run with his short legs and full body to catch an M-80 thrown by one of the club members. Oh, my... 

The rest of the story can be found on my history blog Thursday's story

The homepage for my history blog is: 

<https://mgcchistory.blogspot.com/>

Miami, Oklahoma Golf and Country Club History

If you enjoy my stories please copy and share this website with your friends. Blogging is becoming a thing of the past and I could certainly use help for my readers in sharing these stories with your friends and family.  

Intriguing Reading from 2016

In 2016 I joined two book clubs and continue to use my public library card monthly to read whatever my heart desires. As a result I’ve read too many good books to share one by one, so I composed this list in hopes of inviting readers to read these titles.

Intriguing

The Last Painting of Sarah DeVos by Dominic Smith

“She wonders sometimes if she isn’t painting an allegory of her daughter’s transit      between the living and the dead, a girl trudging forever through the snow.”

A Great Reckoning by Louise Penny

“…eyes that looked like slush in the streets…Like the Great Wall of China, most threats were already inside.”

 Nature of the Beast by Louise Penny

“Nature, she knew, abhorred a vacuum, and these people, faced with an information vacuum, had filled it with their fears.”

The Little Red Chairs by Edna O’Brien

“We don't know others. They are an enigma. We can't know them, especially those we are most intimate with, because habit blurs us and hope blinds us with truth.” 

The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen (Pulitzer Prize 2016)

“I am a spy, a sleeper, a spook, a man of two faces. Perhaps not surprisingly, I am also a man of two minds.” Talking to Viet Thanh Nguyen

Memorable:

Commonwealth by Ann Patchett 

“Our stories are us: to give them away is dangerous but, like those guns, stories don’t have to destroy.”

The Last Bus to Wisdom by Ivan Doig

“Life can tickle you in the ribs surprisingly, when it’s not digging its thumbs into them.”

Inspiring:

Big Magic Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert

“Inspiring stories must have two elements: Tension and triumph; Triumph over adversity.”

Riveting:

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead (National Book Award)  interview for National Book Award

“Cora… crawled toward the handcar, left leg in agony. The slave catcher didn’t make a sound...With her arm on the handcar she began to pump, throwing all of herself into movement. Into northness. Each time she brought her arms down on the lever, she drove a pickax into the rock, swung a sledge on to a railroad spike.”

The Little Red Chairs by Edna O’Brien (intriguing)

 website for Sarajevo Red Line Project

Complex:

The Little Red Chairs by Edna O’Brien (intriguing, riveting)

“The oak tree driven apart by lighting…On the opposite side, young branches in leaf extended in all directions, a freak of nature, dead on one side and living on the other, a reason to hope.”

The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen

“All wars are fought twice.  The first time on the battlefield, the second time in memory.”

LaRose by Louise Erdrich

“Sorrow eats time. Be patient. Time eats sorrow.” 

Motivating:

Big Magic Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert

“Creativity is a path for the brave, yes, but it is not a path for the fearless, and it’s important to recognize the distinction. Bravery means doing something scary. Fearlessness means not even understanding what the word scary means.”

Entertaining:

The Nest by Cynthia d’Aprix Sweeney

“Right now, it felt like there was nowhere for his thoughts to alight that wasn't rife with land mines of regret or anger or guilt.”

Glitter and Glue by Kelly Corrigan (memoir)

“…but what child can see the woman inside her mom, what with all that motherness blocking out everything else.”

Less is More, More or Less by Nathan Brown (poetry)

“Local Star--

He’s still as good as he ever was.

That’s why he’s still where he is.”

Engaging:

Still Life in Bread Crumbs by Anna Quindlen

“It's a funny thing, hope. It's not like love, or fear, or hate. It's a feeling you don't really know you had until it's gone.” 

The Last Bus to Wisdom by Ivan Doig (memorable and my favorite read this year)

“Oh, S&H, S&H…little green stamps, little green stamps! Sperry & Hutchinson does wonders for my purchasin’. My book is full at last, I better spend ‘em fast.”

Refreshing:

Walking Nature Home (A Life’s Journey) by Susan Tweit (memoir)

“Ravens pair up for life, but every year they court each other anew, a lovely practice that humans might do well to adapt.”

Historical:

The Secret Chord by Geraldine Brooks

“It is important that you know. I want you to set it down ‘Mikhal was in love with David.’ Nobody ever writes that about a woman. It’s always the man whose love is thought worthy of recording.”

Informative

Scout, Atticus and Boo by Mary McDonagh Murphy

Scott Turow says, "I was enthralled by it...It's true that there aren't many human beings in the world like Atticus Finch--perhaps none--but that doesn't mean that it's not worth striving to be like him."  .

Thoughts on Reading

My only regret is that I have not read a single book by the 2016 Neustadt Award Winning writer, Dubravka Ugresic


If you are looking for a reading challenge this year consider the Read Harder  Book Challenge at this website:  Reading Challenge 2017

As we grow up and encounter new peoples and situations it might behoove us to know that research now indicates that 
Literary fiction improves empathy , as opposed to popular fiction which does not surprise us or push us to think.  


I'm happy to reply to readers thoughts or impressions with any of these titles or considerations.  

Miami Memories: A Lasting Imprint

I'm one of the few 6%, and I have Mrs. Louise Watson, Shari Lewis, and Minnie Pearl to thank for that.  Not long ago The Today show discussed career choices people have made.  In a study in the Journal of Social Forces, just 6% of adults have ended up in the careers they had aspired to when they were kids. Then I considered mine, and what about my friends or classmates.  Did any of us even think about careers back then?  If we did was it a dream, a goal, a vision of the future, or was there someone we wanted to be?  

For as long as I can remember I really just wanted to be a mother, secretly a comedian, but LuJean Howard was already our class clown, so that job was taken.   I loved performing tricks at my parent's parties, and telling stories to the neighborhood kids, but Hollywood never beckoned me.  If I were going to go to college then of course, I would be a teacher, but sometimes I dreamed of becoming a race car driver or a world traveler who published stories about exotic places to visit.    By high school, I knew after reading On the Beach that I'd become an English teacher, move to Australia, then naturally, I'd make a difference in the lives of hundreds of people and change the world along the way, if we lived that long. 

Along the way life opened and closed several other doors before I found my calling and career.  By age 19 I was already a substitute teacher, then I worked with Head Start after Katy was born, but my lucky break came when the Miami Public Library needed a children's librarian.  Suddenly, I had the best job in the world, and it blossomed to be one of the best choices of my life.  The Saturday morning and afternoon story hours were empty because there was a new yellow big bird on television that had garnered every ones attention.  To be honest I was nervous about telling stories to children, so when no one arrived I felt relieved, but then it became a challenge.  How to fill the library with children at all hours of the day.  I began to reflect on my recent childhood and recalled how much I loved Minnie Pearl, Shari Lewis, and so many entertainers I'd see on the Ed Sullivan Show.  

One day I found an old puppet in a closet and brought it to life when the puppet found the warmth of my hand and saw the smile on my face.  I imagined I was Shari Lewis talking to Lamb Chops.  I then taught myself how to make puppets, so children coming to story hour would have puppets to use. 

Serendipitously, a class on storytelling was being offered and I thought, "how perfect and so easy."  I was so wrong.  I worked day and night for three weeks to learn one story that only lasted about eight minutes!  In the end, I was hooked, and I spent the rest of my life pursuing stories to tell for children and adults.  How lucky can one person be. I did my best to reflect on the smile and

enthusiasm of Minnie Pearl.  Her voice still echos in my mind, "How Deeee folks. I'm jist so proud to be here."  Her smiling face convinced me that she meant every word she spoke. Her jokes and funny stories made us all laugh, and I loved to hear my parents laughing while watching her.


The hardest lesson came when I realized that I'd never make a living as a librarian without a college degree.  Being a single parent made the choice easy, stay near family and finish my education.  Now raising a little girl,  I wanted to become an elementary teacher or librarian.

It was the quiet sincere librarian, Mrs. Watson, who had left the greatest imprint on my life by sincerely believing that books and reading could make a difference in our lives.  At Central Jr. High we had a 3rd floor study hall with a tiny room filled with books.  A few hours a day Mrs. Watson worked up there while her remaining time was in the real high school.  I loved to be in that hushed room and smell the paper and books.  Even when those ratty old boys became

obnoxious in study hall, little Mrs. Watson could quiet them down. High school was no different, a large study hall room and small dimly lit library, but again her smile and passion for reading set me at ease.  She handed me a thick historical romance and suggested I read it cover to cover. When I finished that book I felt empty on the inside, like I'd lost a friend or a family. It was about a woman who was to marry Napoleon, but fate changed her life. Perhaps, the pulse and heartbeat of love on the pages of a book changed my fate, too.

Mrs. Watson had me hooked for life, and now more than 50 years later and a career as a librarian and teacher, I still smile deeply inside hoping I made a difference in at least one person's life.  
  
Letty Stapp Watt, storyteller and historian
 


    

Miami Memories: The Book that Changed my Life

The articles "A" and "The" make a major difference in how the reader interprets the line.  Using "A" book in the title suggests that any book might work, whereas, using "The" plainly states that only one book fits this description.  Naturally, my mind wonders and can make a list, a long list of books that have made a difference in my life, but I'm asking myself and my readers to name only one and how did it change your life.

At age five my mother enrolled me in first grade at a Catholic school for several reasons:  one, I had a new baby sister at home and mother's hands were full (after all she was nearly forty!); two, she called me precocious and inquisitive, not two highly prized skills in that first grade class ruled by a nun with a ruler in her hand.  I quickly learned that straight lines, formal behavior, no talking, no chewing gum were the keys to survival.  This little five year old became lost in the structure, but luckily, the windows were tall and wide and the trees outside beckoned my eyes and imagination to wonder.  

By the end of the year we moved away and a book character, found on the shelves of the Miami, Oklahoma Public Library, entered my life and lifted my tiny trodden spirits.

 Madeline and her many adventures showed me then, and to this day, that even the tiniest of us could be strong and courageous.  My tonsillitis surgery at age four rivaled her appendix surgery; we both nearly drowned.   She was everything I wanted to be: lively, curious, adventurous, and willing to stand up for herself.  She changed my life.

Madeline's Rescue by Ludwig Bemelmans (excerpt)

In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines

Lived 12 little girls in two straight lines,

They left the house at half past nine.

The smallest one was Madeline.

She was not afraid of mice,

She loved winter, snow, and ice.

To the tiger in the zoo

Madeline just said, "Pooh Pooh!"

And nobody knew so well

How to frighten Miss Clavel--

Until the day she slipped and fell.

Poor Madeline would now be dead

But for a dog that kept his head, 

And dragged her safe from a watery grave.

"From now on, (spoke Clavel) I hope you will listen to me,

And here is a cup of camomile tea."

What Book Changed Your Life? How or Why?  Please fix a hot cup of tea, reflect, and respond to my question.

Comments can be placed below, emailed to me, or messaged on facebook.