Shortly after we arrived in Augusta my mother started to make inquiries to find me the right piano teacher. I don’t remember how long it was before my lessons started, but it was unbelievable that such a wonderful piano teacher lived in my new hometown – Augusta, KS. According to some records I have managed to locate Edwina Parker was born in 1902. I am not aware of the circumstances that brought her to Augusta. However, I very much remember the occasion of her memorial service in 1980 in Augusta. We gathered in the chapel at Dunsford’s – one of her students who was older than me, Dr. Wallace Dunn opened the time with a selection by Bach, another student, younger that me then played Beethoven (sorry I am not currently able to remember his name – I am sorry – perhaps someone can help fill in this information) – then I played Brahms. Following the three musical selections, at Edwina’s request, we adjourned to her home for a party.

Mrs. Parker was amazing – a superb teacher – loving and kind – a bit mysterious – and without a doubt one of the greatest influences on my life. My formal studies with her concluded when I started undergraduate school, but she was always available and willing to lend a listening ear and offer her loving advice without ever offering a critical word about the person I was studying with at the time.

On a few occasions she and I talked about her teacher/mentor Isador Philipp. I was impressed then, but now that I know more about Isador Philipp I am even more impressed – as well as knowledgeable about where she learned her teaching methods.

Philipp was born in 1863 in Budapest and died in 1958 (the same summer we moved to Augusta) in Paris. He studied piano with Georges Mathias (a pupil of Chopin). His teachers also included Camille Saint-Saens, Stephen Heller (who was a student of Carl Czerny who, in turn, was a student of Beethoven), and Theodore Ritter (a student of
Franz Liszt). One of his good friends and classmates was the famous French composer Debussy.

The following article describes Philipp’s teaching manner (sections in bold are my addition as that was the manner in which Edwina taught me and others):

In interviews, his students remember him with a great deal of affection and remark about his gentle and patient manner as a teacher. Students commented that he stressed suppleness, firmness, rhythmic exactitude and articulation. He insisted on practicing with the metronome, first slowly, then incrementally faster for all technical exercises and in learning any new piece. He taught that octaves should be played from the wrist, with a motionless arm, and that fingers should attain true independence of one another. Like other great teachers, he did not have a ‘system’, but taught what the student needed at the time. Paul Loyonnet stated his ideals were velocity, sobriety of expression and the jeu perle style. As for interpretations, he stressed that the student must know the piece intimately and thoroughly before it can be properly played, but did not force any particular interpretation.

Philipp’s repertoire was wide, from the earliest keyboard masters to contemporary composers. He believed that every pianist should be conversant in all styles and eras of piano, and did not shy from playing Bach or other early composers on a modern grand. One of his teaching points was that pianists should play any piece of music the way the composer intended, and seeking out what the composer intended is often a lifelong process. Nonetheless, each pianist should have his own views on the pieces and not just copy what another has done.

Philipp wrote, “The quality most desirable in piano playing is tone. Tone should be worked at from the first, and the pupil must listen attentively to it. To produce a beautiful tone, Thalberg said, ‘one should in a way knead the keyboard with a hand of velvet, the key being rather felt than struck.’ It is essential to maintain the utmost relaxation in the arms, wrists and hands.” Fernando Laires said that Philipp insisted that the music and the tone should arise from deep within the piano, not pounded out at the keyboard, and by that he meant that he must come deep within one’s soul, not at the fingertips.

Rubato, Philipp wrote, does not mean playing out of time, but rather, “any ritenuto that we may be impelled to make, must be compensated by a corresponding accelerando and also the opposite, the bass keeping exactly the time.” Although Philipp abhorred distortions in interpreting pieces, he believed that “even when all the interpretive signs are exactly observed, there remains ample scope for self expression and liberty. You must be living and feeling the drama or the poem or the piece you play, in all its inflections and shades of emotion. What you do not feel yourself, your listeners will not get. You must be fully absorbed in the interpretation.”

When his friend Claude Debussy was composing new pieces for the piano, he would often ask Philipp for advice on notation so that pianists would be able to better understand his nuances and approach. After considerable deliberation, they both decided that almost no pedal markings should be used in any of the published pieces. Their reasoning is that every piano is different in quality, every room or hall is different in size and resonance, and each pianist has different capabilities. To lock in one form of pedaling to cover all possible circumstances would place the pedaling notation above the effects that Debussy wished to achieve. Therefore, they decided that pedaling should be noted only where it is absolutely necessary, and gave discretion to the pianist to use it as needed. Although this has often been abused by some pianists who use it to cloud the harmonies, or achieve a very dry sound, it remains a point of discussion for every pianist who chooses to perform Debussy’s piano works.

Harold Bradley stated that Philipp didn’t necessarily always take the ‘best’ students as his pupils. Sometimes, he would accept a student who had only a few years of instruction and was at the intermediate level, and often he would refuse to teach even top level pianists. For Philipp, the most important attribute of a student wasn’t his or her particular level of accomplishment, but whether they were teachable or not. Bradley said that Philipp could often tell a pianist’s personality just by listening to him play.

The above information was taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isidor_Philipp

I’m sure that the most important thing that Edwina taught me was to perform “without a conscience” – always insisting that a performer who worries about any mistake will continue to worry about that mistake – and – as a result make many more mistakes during the performance. She also taught me pre-performance self hypnosis and the useful art of instant relaxation especially of the muscles in the forearm.

She taught me the musical languages of Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, and many many more composers. While she required that I learn the classics she also made certain that I was able to “play-by-ear” with improvisation especially in pop music styles.

Wow! was I ever blessed by her!!! She taught me life!!!!!

During the summer of 1958 – we – my mother, my grandmother, and me – moved from Tahlequah, Oklahoma to Augusta, Kansas. It certainly was the biggest adventure of my life – at least until that point.

In the fall I started sixth grade at Garfield Elementary School – the same school where my mother was employed for many years to teach second grade. She continued to live in Augusta following her retirement until 2002 when she came to live with us in Austin. My grandmother, LaVaughn Wattenbarger, also lived in August until her death in 1989 – my mother died in 2009.

There are a number of stories that need to be told about the years 1958 through 1965 – I will try my best to protect the innocent by changing or not using names – and we are very much looking forward to attending the Class of 1965 50 Year Reunion this coming year – my how time flies – especially when you’re having fun!!!!!

For people who may not know – Augusta, in Butler county, is located just about half an hour east of Wichita. During these years the primary focus of the town was the Mobil refinery – easy to see – easy to smell – and easy to taste in the local water. When we moved to Augusta the population, as I recall, was around 6,000 – according to Wikipedia the population in 2010 had grown to 9, 274.

Following is at least a partial list of the stories that I need to tell:

— Beloved and wonderful music teachers Edwina Parker and Max Hendrickson

— The historic downtown Augusta Theater and the Drive-In

— Brick streets

— Driver’s ed

— The old Methodist Church and the resulting experiences at Camp Pike

— The honor of attending Boys State and Boys Nation

— Working at the Augusta Pharmacy

— Spending the evening on State Street

— The flood

— Lehr’s and Dairy Queen, etc.

— Augusta Community Theatre

— Teachers: Vivian Williams, Margaret Mallory, David Joy, Winifred Ketch, basketball and math – Adams, Moore, Ashcraft, Hutter – McAdoo, Hicks, Ralston, — I am sure I will think of others before I get to this point in my writing

— Band trips

The only reason I make this list is to remind me of events and times that profoundly effected my life and contributed to the person that I am today. I hope that some of you who read this blog will be willing to contribute your memories to this collection of stories either by commenting directly on this blog site or by commenting on FB.

Wishing everyone a great celebration of Thanksgiving tomorrow! Grace and peace

Before moving along in my story I want to make a short side trip to the present as we prepare to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday.

Yesterday, November 23, we concluded our fall sermon series at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Austin as we prepare to begin the season of Advent next Sunday. The fall series was titled “Touchstones of Spiritual Sanity” and focused on the Ten Commandments. Yesterday Jim Rigby did a masterful job of giving consideration to the final commandment in light of this week’s annual celebration of Thanksgiving. His sermon, From Blessings to Beatitudes will be available on-line later this week at http://www.staopen.org/sermons-and-news/sermons/ – I strongly recommend it for your watching and listening.

Two other items from the service that I want to make available for your consideration. First, a Native American version of the Ten Commandments which we sang together at the conclusion of the service using a setting that I had composed.

The Earth is our Mother, care for her.

Honor all your relations.

Open your heart and soul to the Great Spirit.

All life is sacred, treat all beings with respect.

Take from the Earth what is needed and nothing more.

Do what needs to be done for the good of all.

Give constant thanks to the Great Spirit for each new day.

Speak the truth: but only of the good in others.

Follow the rhythms of nature: rise and retire with the sun.

Enjoy life’s journey but leave no tracks.

Finally, a prayer that we used during the service – divided into three sections as a call to worship, at a time of prayer, and as a blessing at the end of the service.

Give us hearts to understand; Never to take from creation’s beauty more than we give; never to destroy wantonly for the furtherance of greed; Never to deny to give our hands for the building of earth’s beauty; never to take from her what we cannot use.

Give us hearts to understand That to destroy earth’s music is to create confusion; that to wreck her appearance is to blind us to beauty; That to callously pollute her fragrance is to make a house of stench; that as we care for her she will care for us. We have forgotten who we are. We have sought only our own security. We have exploited simply for our own ends. We have distorted our knowledge. We have abused our power. Great Spirit, whose dry lands thirst, Help us to find the way to refresh your lands. Great Spirit, whose waters are choked with debris and pollution, help us to find the way to cleanse your waters. Great Spirit, whose beautiful earth grows ugly with misuse, help us to find the way to restore beauty to your handiwork. Great Spirit, whose creatures are being destroyed, help us to find a way to replenish them.

Great Spirit, whose gifts to us are being lost in selfishness and corruption, help us to find the way to restore our humanity. Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice we hear in the wind, whose breath gives life to the world, hear us; we need your strength and wisdom.

May we walk in Beauty.

http://nativeamerican.lostsoulsgenealogy.com/prayers.htm

These and other beautiful writing may be found at the website listed above.

This week as you gather to celebrate Thanksgiving it is my prayer that you will pause to remember the whole story of this day that we celebrate each year, being mindful that many people still suffer injustice, oppression, hunger, disease, prejudice and other things that diminish their value as part of God’s continuing creation. So I conclude this post with three of the commandments from above: All life is sacred, treat all beings with respect. Take from the Earth what is needed and nothing more. Do what needs to be done for the good of all.

Amen and Amen – so let it be!!

Most of the information in the beginning of this post I really do not remember – however – thanks to my family telling me at least this beginning story so many times – it sometimes seems like it is an actual memory.

My life adventure with music started inside the little mission church in Bunch next to the house where I was born. The church did not have a nursery – so – during worship services – Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings – I sat on the piano bench next to my mother who played the hymns for worship. Legend says that at some point on a Christmas Eve I reached up and played along with the melody during the singing of Silent Night. I do remember my grandmother telling this story many many times. I also remember that as the years went by – from time to time my grandmother would make me a year younger when she told the story – a story that I remember hearing often until her death in 1989.

So while I do not know my true age at the time, I am convinced that I must have been younger than five years old – because – at age five I began my formal study of piano. My teacher was a Benedictine nun – Sister Gabriel (not sure of that spelling). Each day during the week following my lesson my mother supervised my practice – in essence repeating the lesson every day. Sister Gabriel was very gentle and kind. However, what I remember most about her was that at the end of each lesson she would have a sweet treat for me that she had saved from her meals in the dining room.

My grandmother also purchased my first piano so that I would have an instrument for my practicing. She also helped us buy my first new piano when we moved to Kansas during the summer before I entered sixth grade. I will relate some more stories of this piano when I am writing about my time in Kansas.

We remained in Oklahoma through my fifth grade year. When I was in the fourth and fifth grades my mother completed her undergraduate degree at what was then Northeastern State Teacher’s College in Tahlequah.

Most of my early memories of church are from the little mission church in Bunch. My grandfather would preach in both Cherokee and English, and we believe that my grandmother was the first woman ever licensed to preach by the Oklahoma Conference of the Methodist Church. I will never forget the first time I attended church at a church other than the one in Bunch. I remember being sad that all churches were not multi-ethnic and multi-lingual – little did I know – and – today I am aware of what a privilege and a blessing it was to begin my spiritual life surrounded by the loving Native Americans in the Cookson Hills of Oklahoma.

My father – John Thomas Mitchell – I never knew my father. I know more about him now than ever before. More about that in a later post.

My mother – Doris Eujean Wattenbarger Mitchell – Many stories to tell about her in later posts.

Me – Thomas Eugene Mitchell – apparently named using the middle names of my parents.

My grandmother – Edna LaVaughn Sargent Wattenbarger – a monumental influence in my life and my development into the person I am today.

My grandfather – George Warren Wattenbarger – some of the family say that he spelled his middle name Warrn – but most of the documents I have discovered spell his middle name Warren.

My grandfather – Grandpa to me – was the pastor at the Methodist mission church in Bunch. However, to this day, people who knew him called him “Doc” Wattenbarger. It seems he provided medical care for many people in the area as well as spiritual care. I am fairly confident that he had very little or no formal medical training, but I do know that he had close relationships with a doctor and a pharmacist in the closest little town. My guess is that both the doctor and the pharmacist were content to advise him in providing medical care to the folks in and around Bunch rather than having to go to Bunch themselves.

I will always remember a cough medicine that he provided for me as a young child – a chocolate flavored sulfa concoction that to this day completely turns my stomach when I taste certain kinds of chocolate – especially in chocolate pie. I also know that my first experience with penicillin was injections given to me by my Grandpa.

And I will never forget my grandparents providing lunch for the entire congregation of the little church following Sunday morning worship. I am still very fond of having a beef roast and a pork roast prepared in the same pan – just like my Grandma did in Bunch for those Sunday lunches. A number of years later I inquired what was so special about cooking them together that way, and she responded by telling me that was the only pan she had that was big enough – but the combination is absolutely delicious!

The Sallisaw Creek ran just behind the church and the house. I don’t remember this one event, but I know that my Grandpa baptized me in the creek – a story that I have heard often enough that I almost feel like I remember.

Bunch is divided down the center by the railroad tracks of the Kansas City Southern Railway. The church and the house and a few other homes are on one side of the track, while the main feature on the opposite side was the general store and post office. In the next post I will talk about how this led to my fascination with passenger trains and my current love of model trains. I still plan to build a layout that re-creates Bunch as I remember it – probably in N-gauge.

More to follow . . . I very much hope that some people who read these posts will join in this community conversation. I would love to read the stories of your beginnings.

My birth place was the home where my grandparents lived next door to the little Methodist mission church where they served in Bunch, Oklahoma – in the midst of the Cookson Hills surrounded by the Cherokee peoples. As a result I was blessed with an early education of the Native American understanding of creation and spirituality.

Before I tell my story I think it is appropriate to offer some words that reflect the social understanding into which I was born. The following is from A Native American Theology by Clara Sue Kidwell, Homer Noley, and George E. “Tink” Tinker (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2001).

In American Indian cultures human beings are not so privileged in the scheme of things; neither are humans considered external to the rest of the world and its functions To the contrary, humans are seen as part of the whole, rather than apart from it and free to use it up. Yet there are expectations of human beings. We do have particular responsibilities in the scheme of things, but, then, so do all our other relative in the created realm: from bears and squirrels to eagles and sparrows, trees, ants, rocks and mountains. In fact, many elders in Indian communities are quick to add that of all the createds, of all our relations, we Two-Leggeds alone seem to be confused as to our responsibility towards the whole (38-39).

Respect for Creation, the whole of the created realm, “all our relations,” is vitally important to the well-being of our communities. It is mot readily apparent in the general philosophy of balance and harmony, a notion adhered to by all Indian communities in one form or another. Respect for “creation” emerges out of our perceived need for maintaining balance in the world around us. Thus Indian spirituality is characteristically oriented towards balancing of the world and our participation in it both in every-day personal and family actions and the periodic ceremonies of clans, societies, and whole communities. When the balance of existence I disturbed, whole communities ay a price that is measured in some lack of communal well-being.

The American Indian notion of reciprocity is fundamental to all human participation in world-balancing and maintaining harmony. Reciprocity involves first of all an understanding of the cosmos as sacred and alive, and the place of humans in the processes of the cosmic whole. It begins with an understanding that anything and everything that humans do has an effect on the rest of the world around us (40-41).

Each nation has some understanding that they were placed into a relationship with a particular territory by spiritual forces outside of themselves and thus have an enduring responsibility for that territory just as the earth, especially the earth in that particular place, has a filial responsibility toward the people who live there. Likewise, the Two-Legged people in that place also have a spatially related responsibility toward all people who share that place with them, including animals, birds, plants, rocks, rivers, mountains and the like. With knowledge of such extensive kinship ties, including a kinship tie to the land itself, it should be less surprising that Indian peoples have always resisted colonial pressure to relocate them to different territories, to sell their territories to the invaders, or to allow the destruction of their lands for the sake of accessing natural resources. Conquest and removal from our lands, historically, and contemporary ecological destruction of our lands have been and continue to be culturally and genocidally  destructive to Indian peoples as peoples (45).

This explanation will help my description of events that I remember so well from my childhood to be better understood by people who did not have the enrichment of their early years thourgh such a cultural and spiritual understanding.

More to follow

The next several posts will focus on several periods from the earlier part of my life: 1) the Oklahoma years – birth through 5th grade; 2) the first Kansas years – 6th grade through high school graduation; 3) undergraduate college; 4) serving in the United States Air Force; 5) first graduate school experience and following first employment.

For each of these five periods of time I plan to briefly discuss autobiographical details, but, more importantly, write about things that happened during that period of time that have proven to be important in my development as a human being. As you might imagine some of these experiences had a profound and lasting influence on my life – both positive and negative. Other experiences seemed extraordinarily important at the time – but the passage of time and life has either relegated them to less important or other experiences have provided important new understandings of who I am and who I was created to be.

A few years ago, I encountered a book that I continue to believe to be the most important book I have ever read and re-read and re-read. The book is Addiction and Grace authored by Gerald G. May, M.D. (San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988). The following words, which continue to profoundly influence my day to day living, are from the beginning of this marvelous book:

I am convinced that all human beings have in inborn desire for God. Whether we are consciously religious or not, this desire is our deepest longing and our most precious treasure. It gives us meaning. Some of us have repressed this desire, burying it beneath so many other interests that we are completely unaware of it. Or we may experience it in different ways – as a longing for wholeness, completion, or fulfillment. Regardless of how we describe it, it is a longing for love. It is a hunger to love, to be loved, and to move closer to the Source of love. This yearning is the essence of the human spirit; it is the origin of our highest hopes and most noble desires.

Modern theology describes this desire as God given. In an outpouring of love, God creates us and plants the seeds of this desire within us. Then, throughout our lives, God nourishes this desire, drawing us toward fulfillment of the two great commandments: “Thou shalt love thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself.” If we could claim our longing for love as the true measure of our hearts, we would, with God’s grace, be able to live these commandments.

But something gets in the way. Not only are we unable to fulfill the commandments; we often even ignore our desire to do so. The longing at the center of our hearts repeatedly disappears from our awareness, and its energy is usurped by forces that are not at all loving. Our desires are captured, and we give ourselves over to things that, in our deepest honesty, we really do not want. There are times when each of us can easily identify with the words of the apostle Paul: “I do not understand my own behavior; I do not act as I mean to, but I do the things that I hate. Though the will to do what is good is in me, the power to do it is not; the good thing I want to do, I never do; the evil thing which I do not want – that is what I do.”

In writing these words, Paul was talking about sin. Theologically, sin is what turns us away from love – away from love for ourselves, away from love for one another, and away from love for God. (1-2)

And then just a couple of pages later Dr. May writes:

Understanding will not deliver us from addiction, but it will, I hope, help us appreciate grace. Grace is the most powerful force in the universe. It can transcend repression, addiction, and every other internal or external power that seeks to oppress the freedom of the human heart. Grace is where our hope lies. (4-5)

Until next time – may grace and peace be yours!

My memories of this dilemma had faded over the years – until I retired! That was when I was shocked to remember that my driver’s license, my passport, and many other documents and records listed my birthdate as February 9, 1947 – but – Social Security listed by birthdate as February 2, 1947. Suddenly I realized that a problem was looming in the very near future – how could I receive my social security and my retirement pension benefits with two different birthdays. With great concern I called the office that administers my pension benefits with my question: “What do we do now?” They responded that the best way to solve the dilemma was for them to change their records to match the information at Social Security. Problem solved.

It quickly became a fun game to go to doctor’s appointments. When they inquired if anything had changed, I responded “Yes – I have different insurance – and – by the way – I also have a new birthday.”

Then I would tell this story – which is true: When I was growing up I celebrated my birthday on February 2 – because that is what my birth certificate said. During those years I opened my Social Security account and got my first driver’s license – in Kansas.

A few years later I needed to secure a Passport for a college choir tour to Europe and was not able to locate my birth certificate – so I requested another certified copy from the State of Oklahoma. When it arrived – I remember being very surprised – the 2 in the date of my birth had been crossed out and replaced with a 9 with initials approving the change – so without concern I moved to celebrating my birthday on February 9.

However, I do remember asking my mother which date was correct – and – much to my surprise she responded: “I don’t remember” – my response (which I did not speak out loud) was: “Weren’t you there?” Again – problem solved – or so I thought.

Recently – during the admission process for both my heart catheterization and my eye surgery – the discrepancy again posed an issue – my primary ID (driver’s license) and my date of birth for my primary and secondary insurance coverage listed two different numbers for my date of birth. Now – once again – I realize the need to locate my birth certificate which clearly indicates both numbers – even though one is crossed out – and begin the process of getting the numbers to be the same on all of my documents.

Over a year ago we did locate a newspaper article that carried a very brief article about my birth – it stated: A seven pound son was born to Mrs. Doris Mitchell, Sunday evening. He has been named Thomas Eugene. The article was printed in a weekly newspaper in the little town of Stilwell, Oklahoma located about 45 minutes from Bunch where I was born. This edition of the paper was published on Thursday, February 13, 1947 on page 7. So if Sunday evening refers to the previous Sunday evening – then February 9 would be correct. However, this requires that the news of my birth in 1947 made it from Bunch to Stilwell in time to be included in the coming edition of the paper. This seems highly unlikely to me. I believe that Sunday evening likely refers to the previous Sunday evening which would have been February 2 – so – the dilemma is unsolved.

I think I will request another certified copy of my birth certificate just to see what the current version might list as my birth date – hopefully, it will still be either February 2 or February 9. As a result – one of the funny things that happened on the way to the pulpit is that I do not know for sure the date in February, 1947 that I was born – but – I do know that it was on a Sunday evening.

First the health report – on Tuesday, October 28 I had an outpatient surgical procedure to repair a macular hole in my left eye. I then had a follow-up visit with the surgeon the next day and he told me that all had gone very well and that I seemed to be doing just fine – even though I really had very little vision in my left eye at that time. This Wednesday morning I will see the doctor again for my one week follow-up appointment, and I am happy to report that all continues to go very well and the vision in my left eye is improving with the passing of each day. I have deep gratitude for the multitude of caring and skilled health professionals who now are able to fix things that in years past would have become something that a person just had to learn to live with as the problems continued and the condition would likely continue to deteriorate.

I know that I have promised to write more about the dilemma over my date of birth – February 2 or February 9 – and – I will do that in the next post, but since I am already into a discussion of vision I will continue that discussion and – at long last – get to the birthday dilemma in my next post.

It seems to me that everyone who is biologically related to me wears glasses – many of us since we were young children. Before I understood what was happening it was easy to observe that most of the females in the family wore very thick glasses while most of the males wore glasses that were not as cumbersome as the ones required by the females. I later learned that almost everyone in the family was or is myopic (nearsighted) – the females all seem to be extremely myopic while the vision of the males was not as compromised as that of the females – but – all of the males were also afflicted with some degree of astigmatism.

Around the time my daughter was two years old I learned that all of this is caused by a genetic problem that causes extreme myopia in the females – often combined with some degree of macular degeneration. I also learned that the males in the family are the carriers of the genetic problem and are the reason that all of the females have the extreme vision problems.

Somehow this seemed to be a good subject to write about as I return to this blog from my recovery from the repair of the macular hole.

One other matter that continues to make me curious – I have had two heart catheterizations and within days of each have developed a problem that required eye surgery – the first time for a detached retina in the right eye and this last time for a macular hole in the left eye. Numerous medical professionals have assured me that there is no connection between the two – but – I am still not convinced. If any of you are aware of people with similar stories I certainly would love to hear them – but – in the meantime I will just assume that I have experienced strange coincidence on the only two occasions of my life with similar circumstances.

Just so you won’t be concerned – both heart caths went very well. During the second one a stent was placed in my left anterior descending artery. We are very grateful that it was not until after a successful placement of the stent that we learned that this problem is often referred to by those in the know as “The Widow Maker.”

Next time – the birthday dilemma!!!