Rally the Troops Time

THE MISSION: Rally the Troops

We took JetBlue out of Long Beach Airport. Loved one, tolerated the other. First of all, you have to see Long Beach Airport to feel the time warp jolt. It's Olde California. Charming tile work, outdoor areas meander in an out of the really old and picturesque buildings. Remember back in the day what Santa Ana airport was like? That's still the feel at Long Beach. I loved it. I tolerated the non-stop flight to Dulles International Airport, stuck in a middle seat, but somewhat saved by DirecTV and XMradio on my very own little screen. They even had a SPA Music station and so I tried all the relaxation tricks taught to me by daughter, SpaLady Lynne.

Anyway, Ron and I, Chris Elftmann, RN Foundation Board Chairman, and Sandy Quinn, Foundation VP are off on our "Rally the Troops Tour." The Nixon Alumni have not been involved with the Library. What was the previous leadership thinking? These are the folks who lived it, who care the most about what REALLY happened, and should be shaping the message and direction it takes. So that's our mission for this trip.

The three guys met with the folks at the National Archives and the Nixon Center for International Study to spread the message about greater cooperation and the many exciting projects to come. A bunch of old Nixon pals will be brainstorming about ideas for projects, especially RN and PN's centennial birthdays and the 20th Anniversary Reunion at the Library.

I must put in a plea here for any Nixon Administration papers you might have. I know some of the alumni have wanted their papers housed elsewhere, but my thinking is this: If you lived it and helped shape it, you should be recognized for those efforts in perpetuity. Students and researchers a hundred years from now, and much longer, will be studying what happened and why. We are all proud of the accomplishements that were made, and I for one, want to make sure history gets it right. Leadership changes just like faces and personalities come and go, but the only lasting historical record is, and will be, and should be, the truth.

Ron went to the Chinese Embassy to pay his respects to the Ambassador. He took Ken Burns and Dayton Duncan's book on National Parks as a gift. He was met at the door of the beautiful NEW People's Republic of China embassy by two gentlemen, one wearing white gloves and carrying an umbrella, as it was raining lightly. The other man turned out to be the "note taker" during his visit. The Ambassador was in high school when President Nixon visited his country in 1972. After the meeting, Ron was escorted by the umbrella man again and when Ron said "schey, schey" and extended his hand, the umbrella man took off one white glove before shaking hands. The meeting room had great big, overstuffed furniture with doilies, beautiful, large tapestery wall hangings, and they served cups of jasmine tea. Isn't it amazing how perfectly predictable some things are?

I love the ambassador's card. It reads, "Zhou Wenzhong, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the People's Republic of China to the United States of America."

The February Group gathering was great with a good turnout in Dave Parker's American Gas Association conference room. Lots of glass and class overlooking the Capitol. Dewey Clower, an original member of the first White House Advance Office, started the February group, as a way for us Nixon people to stay in touch. They met the first time in February (obviously) after President Nixon's resignation. Overtime it also became a time for Ford, Reagan and Bush-41 get togethers. It stopped meeting, I think sometime during the Clinton years. Steve Bull, Kay Bulow and Barbara McCaffrey are working hard to get it going again , and they are the perfect bunch of people to get the Richard Nixon Presidential Foundation revved up.

Ron spoke, then Chris and Sandy. Then Steve asked Jack Brennan, Ken Khachigian, and Frank Gannon to talk a little bit about what REALLY HAPPENED during the Frost/Nixon conversations. Jack said that the late night phone conversation never happened. When he challenged Ron Howard on it, the Director said, "Yea, I know, but it makes such a dramatic addition." He also said that he did hold up a sign that said, "Let him talk," but Frost yelled cut because he thought it said "Let us talk." Gucci shoes gift never happened either. But just like Oliver Stone's movies, future generations will think it's historically accurate instead of historic fiction.

We have found a great deal of enthusiasm and countless offers to help. So we are really excited.

I saw first hand what happened to charming, old, and historic Congressional Country Club. After my retirement from the Reagan Administration, I spent lots of time there with my 9-holers golfing buddies, and bowling in the basement during winter time. Good grief. They spent mega bucks and made it unrecognizable and HUGE. The long driveway leading up to the entrance, and the first glimpse of the old building, leads one to think it is the same place. What a shock to walk inside.

Then I visited my old friend, Ann Hand. If you aren't familiar with her wonderful jewelry, check her out online. (http://www.annhand.com/) She is famous now, worldwide. Her most recognizable piece is the Gold, ruby-eyed Eagle sitting on a large Pearl. I get compliments every time I wear mine, and if you start looking for it, you'll see it on Hillary, Nancy Pelosi, and just about every other high ranking lady in Washington. Ann's collection includes a lot of patriotic pieces and Sandy, Chris and I picked out a bunch of great pieces to sell in the Library Gift Shop. "Good Stuff", as Sandy likes to say.

The men also visited with Brian Lamb, Chairman and CEO of C-Span. Ron did not realize he had worked in the Nixon Administration. Mr. Lamb told him he had known of him forever, and was delighted to finally have an opportunity to meet. He said he would always be open to covering events involving the Nixon Foundation, and they discussed some ideas. Mr. Lamb was especially enthusiastic about getting a group of Advance Men to reminisce and talk about their experiences. Ron says that back in the beginning, when he established the very first White House Advance Office, because President Nixon wanted the function "legitemized" instead of continuing to be hidden in the various government agencies, they were "silent warriors" with a passion for anonimity. That is not the case today.

Later they had lunch with Richard Norton Smith, perhaps the most famous Presidential Library leader and planner of our time. Somehow he makes me think he is the Dominique Dunn of Museums and Libraries.

Friday night we gathered for a no-host dinner in the Flag Room at Smith and Wollensky's, the site of so many special gatherings and events. Lots of old pals having a good time just being together.

We took the train to New York and had dinner with our special pals, Don and Ginny Vinson. They are on TDY at Sloan Kettering while both Ginny and son, Mark, receive cancer treatment. We needed some face time and hugs with them during this very difficult time in their lives and we continue to offer up prayers and blessings for them.

New York City was on overloaded grid lock. President Obama's presence at the United Nations, plus over 100 other heads of state, made things more chaotic than ever, and New York is never very normal. We were on the 33rd floor, and our hotel was hosting the Chinese delegation, plus the presidential helicopter crew members, and probably a lot of other folks that we weren't told about. All night long, something banged and thumped. We couldn't figure out what could be happening. Then we learned that it was the Fitness Center on the 35th floor, where people were lifting weights and working out. We guess that security folks, who have to stay in top physical condition, and work in rotating shifts, work out at any hour of the day or night. That was either the source of the constant banging, or the hotel is haunted by former UN members and diplomats spending eternity banging their heads against the wall.

On Monday we had lunch with Tricia Nixon Cox, her husband Ed, and son Christoper. Tricia is very supportive and grateful that Ron has agreed to serve the Foundation at this time. Ed is now the New York Republican State Chairman, a post he said he won because Christoper was his campaign manager. Christoper is a very impressive young man, and admitted he wants to run for office someday. Of course he does, it's in his DNA!

That evening Sandy and Mike McManus met us at Buddakahns for dinner. It's a "nouveau asian" eatery, dark, and almost dungeon-like. We feasted on lots of interesting delicacies, my favorite being the Peking duck. Yum. We always have a special time with Sandy and Mike.

Tuesday, Ron spent some time with Roger Ailes, President and CEO of Fox News. We had dinner with our wonderful long-time friends Warren and Sunny Adler at one of their New York clubs. A place where authors and literary leaders like to gather. The city was so congested, that we hired a pedi-cab to help us find the Century Club. It's one of those places that you only know where it is if you have a need to know where it is, so of course it's not marked. Signage on the street would be tacky, I suppose. But the pedi-cab driver pedaled in and out of taxi cabs, limos, and buses as we enjoyed being the fastest thing moving. Warren is being honored by his, and Sunny's, alma mater, New York University. His many books and movies are an amazing accomplishment. Also, two retrospectives on "War of the Roses" are being planned. At 83, he still writes everyday.

We hopped on the train again, for the short trip to Philadelphia. Such a civilized way to travel. We had dinner with Julie Nixon Eisenhower, he husband David, and their daughter Jenny. Julie's exuberance for Ron's leadership at the Foundation is very gratifying and we talked about lots of exciting ideas for the future. She loved the idea of a Chinese Garden as a tribute to her father's historic trip in 1972. We plan to talk to the Chinese community leaders here in Southern California. It would be great if this could be a partnership effort. I can hardly wait to join them in the garden for Tai Chi in the early mornings.

David Eisenhower was recently voted the most popular professor on the Pennsylvania campus where he teaches. He is wonderful, and so is daughter Jenny, a gifted actress and singer,who will be opening in May with the lead in "Fiddler on the Roof."

Then we represented the Foundation at the memorial service for Ambassador Lenore Annenberg, at the Academy of Music. It was a beautiful and elegant tribute to a most generous philanthropist, complete with music by the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra. The participants included Tom Brokaw, Michael Bloomberg, Ed Rendell, Sandra Day O'Conner, Julie Nixon Eisenhower, David Dreier, and by video, George and Barbara Bush, HRH The Prince of Wales, and Colin Powell. And that's not even the complete list. You probably remember that President Nixon appointed Walter Annenberg to the Court of St. James, where Mrs. Annenberg charmed the royal family and also the commoners. Later she served as President Reagans Chief of Protocol, where she also gained the rank of Ambassador. But, as much as she was a high ranking member of society, she helped countless people and institutions with her generosity.

All in all, it was a good trip and I think we accomplished our mission. Now we have to go to work. Stay tuned!

TDY

To all my friends who might be wondering where we are and what we have been doing:

Well, here we are on TDY. The old military term for "Temporary Duty Yonder" . . . we are starting a year or so living in Yorba Linda, California. Yorba is the name of the family who founded this area, and Linda means pretty in Spanish. It is pretty.

We rented a house that is a bit over the top. It's huge, in a chopped up, cavernous way, with two staircases, six bedrooms, six bathrooms and a swimming pool that looks Greecian/Las Vegas gawdy, with three waterfalls and four spitting lions. You know I couldn't make that up.
My favorite spot is a little prayer garden in the side yard that has a statue of the Virgin Mary and a little bench for solitude and meditation.


Ron was recruited and persuaded to serve as the first President of the Richard Nixon Presidential Foundation. When the long-time executive director, John Taylor, resigned to become a full time Episcopal priest, the Foundation Board launched an executive search to find his replacement. They chose Korn/Ferry International. Board Chairman, Kris Elftmann, was advised by Sandy Quinn to contact Ron Walker to help him understand the search process. The more Ron and Kris talked, and it was quite often, the more Kris came to realize who should do the job. (It reminds me of George W. Bush asking Dick Cheney to lead his search for a Vice President.)


Ron told Kris he was "too old and very happily retired," for weeks. Kris wouldn't accept that answer. Finally, at dinner one night with Linda Elftmann, Sandy Quinn and me, Ron said, "If you really want me to do this you will have to get 100 percent of your board behind this. I won't do it without that kind of support, and I will put a succession plan in place immediately. I will only do it for a year to `18 months." Kris jumped on the challenge and pulled it off . . . . and here we are. Every once in a while we look at each other and GULP!




But, as so often happens with our wonderful family, Ron comes complete with his own "Verizon Network." Marja came with us and is our House/Dog Manager. Being the sole proprieter of her MarjaDesign Graphics Company, she can work anywhere that is wifi enabled. She is officed in the living room, at the front of the house.


We came to the Library in June when Ron was asked to speak to the Young President's Organization. They were meeting at the La Casa Pacifica, the Nixon's former home in San Clemente. It is now owned by Gavin and Ninetta Herbert. It was during this visit that Ron gave Kris the 100% Board Challenge, but nobody else knew what was in the works but Sandy Quinn and Linda Elftman. Ron and I flew up to Jackson Hole and spent three weeks "banking rest" while Ron and Kris talked multiple times daily. Marja held down the Tucson fort with the doggies.

When the Board voted unanimously for Ron to assume the leadership of the Foundation, they also voted to change the title from Executive Director to President. Tricia Nixon Cox and Julie Nixon Eisenhower, both board members, were grateful and gracious in expressing their appreciation that Ron would consider taking on this role.

Now we, "the network," had to get to work. Marja and I drove over with the dogs, our brother and sister dachshunds, Kodai and Lulubelle. Ron flew over. Lynne and Barry flew in from Kentucky. Lisa volunteered to be in charge of the Tucson house.

We got three rooms at the Fullerton Marriott and proceeded to find a house to rent. We found this beauty, and finalized the deal. We dubbed it "Coyote Base." Then we took the dogs to play on Newport Beach, my girlhood stomping ground.

In the meantime, the Library Foundation Staff and all the docents welcomed us in the East Room. We had a catered lunch with the staff and felt very welcome and appreciated. Sandy, Frank Gannon, Ron and I drove up to the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel to have dinner with our wonderful, and longtime friend, Bruce Herschenson. He's one of the treasures of the time that we represent here and the mission is to join together and work to enrich the legacy of Richard Nixon.

We know we will never get past Watergate. That's a given. But we can strive to highlight the MANY good things President Nixon accomplished. They include the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), the Council of Environmental Quality (CEQ), the All volunteer Army that ended the draft, Parks to the People, the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and of course his Opening of China, to name just a few. Perhaps someday, they won't ALWAYS refer to RN as the first President to Resign" without at least mentioning one or more positive achievements too.

My girls asked me to keep a blog of the experience and this is my first one. We, of course, encourage everyone to get involved with the library, if you have any interest. It is amazing to realize that we are the only ones here who "lived" it. Now that the National Archives are involved and the Library is a part of the "Presidential Libraries System," quality control is needed. There was a picture of Dick Howard on a board, probably part of the "Nixon-Frost" movie set, and the name on the back was Gordon Strachan. That's just an example of the necessity for leadership by someone who lived it.

If you received this and have no interest, I won't be offended. Just let me know.

All the best, Anne Walker reporting from Coyote Base in Yorba Linda, California

Happy Birthday, Mr. President

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Mr. President

Photograph by David Hume Kennerly, official White House Photographer during the presidency of Gerald R. Ford. Mr. Kennerly is a Pulitizer Prize winner for his photos of Vietnam, achieving the honor at the age of 25.


It was the summer of 1980 when the wall phone (remember those?) rang in the kitchen of our Dallas home. "This is Mike Deaver calling for Ron Walker."

Wow, I knew who Mike Deaver was, Governor Ronald Reagan's right hand man. He told Ron that it looked like the Governor was going to get his party's nomination for President of the United States, and they needed help. Could Ron come to the convention in Detroit and help?

I, of course, wanted to go too. I'd never been to Detroit. The first morning we were there, a bunch of us were standing in the lobby of the Detroit Plaza Hotel. Ron was waiting to go to a meeting. Chuck Tyson, the Governor's scheduling chief, asked me what I was going to do that day. I told him I was available for any assignment that needed a volunteer. Well, as a matter of fact, they needed someone to do a special favor for the Governor.

It seems that today was former President Ford's sixty-seventh birthday. The two men had experienced both private and public differences over the years, and Governor Reagan wanted to make a gesture of friendship. In the summer of 1980, there was lots of talk about a Reagan-Ford ticket, and the Governor had gone to Ford's desert home right after the California primary to discuss the idea. Ford declined the offer of the second spot on the ticket, but said he would support him. You probably remember, too, that rumors were flying that a co-presidency was being talked about. My assignment was to find a peace-pipe. Have a plaque engraved and have it framed, in time for the Governor to present it to President Ford, at their meeting scheduled for 3:45 THAT AFTERNOON. (Gulp)

Now, I've already told you I had never been to Detroit, so how in the world was I going to pull this off inside of a few hours? Chuck assured me that they would provide me with a car and volunteer driver. That was a help.

A short time later, a very nice young woman introduced herself to me. (I deeply regret I don't remember her name) We were sworn to secrecy as we jumped in her car and began our mission. She knew Detroit. She saved the day. I was soon going to learn that Detroit had a huge Polish population. She was Polish. She saved much more than just the day. Our first goal was to find a peace pipe. She took me to a section of Detroit that was full of little store fronts, filled with antiques and treasures of various vintage and design. We would pop in, find a sales person, and ask if they had any peace pipes. We gots lots of surprised looks, smart aleck answers, and my favorite retort, "What do you think this is, the Navajo Nation?" Just about the time we were getting really discouraged, and even talking about finding a place to eat lunch, an amazing thing happened. "Yea, do you want one with a tobacco pouch, or without it?"

Well, I figured, if you give a guy a peace pipe, shouldn't you provide something to smoke in it, too? We bought the one with the tobacco pouch. Next stop: an engraver.

As we waited for the little brass plaque to be engraved, we paced the floor of the tiny shop. It seemed like the guy took forever to put a few words on a piece of metal. The minutes were flying by and we still had to get the thing mounted and framed. Next stop: find a framer.

My wheel lady, heroine and Detroit expert, knew right where to go. Now, it really wasn't a huge secret, because anybody could read the plague, and put two and two together.

Mission accomplished: We flew back to the hotel with a few minutes to spare and delivered the precious present to the security desk on the floor of the Governor's hotel room.

Then we hurried down to the lobby bar and I was proud and happy to buy my new friend a congratulatory glass of wine, or beer, or something. Honestly, I don't remember what we actually drank, I just remember how happy we were. It's pretty amazing to look at the photo and see a little snippet of history that we made happen. Hats off to you dear wheel lady and miracle worker. I hope you think as fondly of this day that we shared and take pride in it, as I often do.

North Rim Art

Yellowstone National Park: the world's first national park and one of America's best ideas ever. Many countries have taken our lead and copied the idea. To preserve and protect beautiful places is a very good thing.

We recently had the amazing opportunity to see a work of art in progress on the north rim of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. The road has been closed this summer to tend to some much needed maintenance and repair. We found out about it by accident and sheer good luck. We drove out to once again enjoy the amazing view at Artist Point on the South Rim. The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone is a place of great, wild beauty. The stone is really yellow in color, named for the golden lichens on the rock walls. The shear force of the water fall that has carved the canyon provides a scenic wonder that is a feast for the eyes and a magnet for the artists that have tried to capture it with paint and canvas.


On our way to the parking area, we were stopped by Ranger Joe. He told us they had worked all night paving the parking lot and, while they weren't quite finished, we could proceed with caution and park on the right. We enjoyed the amazing vista and spent some time taking it all in.


Ranger Joe was at the same spot when we left, and my husband Ron, as he often does, stopped to say thank you and introduce himself. Ron was the 8th Director of the National Parks and he loves being in a park and especially meeting young rangers and learning about them. Ranger Joe said if we thought artist point was cool, how would we like to see what they were doing on the North Rim?


What we saw was a work of art. Because the young project manager, Ranger Joe, was so dedicated to greatly improving the visitor's opportunity to truly experience the canyon. He wanted to improve and also preserve the historically significant work of the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). The CCC, was responsible for most of the work in National Parks during the administrations of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. They worked in Yellowstone during the summers of 1933 to 1941, building and repairing walkways, trails and bridges. Ranger Joe took care to save the "look" of the CCC work, but also to add safety features, walking trails and overlooks. Years of putting new asphalt over old, crumbling asphalt, had resulted in several inches of added heigth. This meant that in several places, clueless tourists could easily hop over the barriers and venture out onto unsafe presipices.

Ranger Joe had a great team working with him. Experts from the Federal Highway Administration shared his enthusiasm, and were also dedicated to providing more than had originally been planned. One of their most impressive accomplishments was the strong desire to not be able to see the "newness" of the project on the north rim from across the canyon on the south rim. They found over 600 huge boulders in different parts of the park that perfectly matched the yellow hue of the canyon. These were put in place on the boundary of the trails and overlooks, replacing the old wooden barriers. Obviously, rocks last much longer than wood, and reduces the burden of maintenance costs in the near future.

We loved spending a few days in Yellowstone National Park. The wildlife thrives. Buffalo, moose, elk, deer, and even some wolves were spotted among the trees, in the Lamar Valley and in the thermal areas. The Old Faithful area was crowded with tourists, as it so often is, but other beautiful places were serene areas of solitude. That's why we visit and why we always want to go back soon.

Big Box Fan Fan

If you aren't a big box fan fan, you don't know what you are missing! So listen up!





During our army days, we lived on the island of Okinawa in the South China Sea. All military housing had at least one window unit air conditioner. And of course, the higher your rank, the more units you had. They whirred away, night and day, and as they cooled off the inside, the outside extracted buckets of water from the humid, thick-as-aloe-gel island air. Literally, they were our lifesavers. Since this was before the days of central air conditioning, our only alternative was to soak your sheets in the bathtub, climb into bed with them over you and hope you could get 40 winks before they dried and you had to repeat the process.




After almost four years, we flew home to the states, fondly referred to as the land of the big PX. But alas, we found we had difficulty sleeping. Why was there so much noise outside, all night long? Why were birds making so much noise at the crack of dawn? Whose dog was barking all the time? Then it hit us, we have no droning machine sticking out of our window. It's way too quiet here in the good old USofA. That's when we discovered the big box fan.





We run it year round. It whirrs all night long. It is the most wonderful invention since indoor plumbing.





When we stay in a hotel or motel, we phone ahead for a box fan. If they don't have one, we ask them to buy one and put it on our bill. They only cost about $19.99 at Walgreens, but considerably more at a Hilton or Marriott. But that's OK. Without a box fan, you hear all the footfalls in the halls. Every tap tap tap of ladies calling "housekeeping" as they go about their daily routine. If your room is close to the elevator, you hear the chime every time it hits your floor. And my personal least favorite, the person next door with the voice that can be heard constantly talking. What is the deal? They must be constantly talking on the phone, because you usually only hear one incessant voice. How annoying.





When we take a roadtrip, the box fan goes in the car last so it can come out first when we reach our motel. That way you don't hear the folks who arrive at your location all night long. You don't hear the people who manage to slam 53 car doors as they move into their room. And best of all, you don't hear thunder thigh's in the room above as he/she paces the floor.





A few days ago, I discovered another reason why I am a Big Box Fan fan. I recently received a mechanical aortic heart valve. It took me awhile to realize how much it "thump, thump, thumped," because the hospital was noisy and when I came home I slept with the comfort of the box fan purring away in the corner. Then, one afternoon, I saw our two doggies snoozing on the guest room bed and I decided to join them. That's when I discovered how noisy my new heart valve was. It's a comforting sound, of course, but kind of distracting when one is looking for a quiet afternoon nap. So, I cranked up the big box fan we keep in the guest room, and soon I was sleeping right along with the two little brown furry creatures that comfort and warm me. How nice! If you are not already a fan fan, think about joining my fan club.

Store bought Cookies

Back in the day, as they now like to say, store bought cookies were special, delicious, and enjoyed. What happened? They sure don't taste like they used to. Now they have a fakey, fakey flavor. I used to love chocolate covered graham crakers. The chocolate got melty under the spot where your thumb and finger held it. You could lick those two and swoon.

My mother kept a stash of chocolate covered graham crackers in her bedside table. She liked to read in bed and munch on them. She thought we didn't know. She had decided my brother was allergic to chocolate since he always had a runny nose, and thus the secret stash of anything chocolate. (Marshmallows and peanut clusters were there too)

Growing up without air conditioning meant the shades were drawn and folks retired to the dark and cool during the hottest part of the day. Ah yes, a good book and a delicious stash in a drawer made those times ones of glorious retreat. Mom sure knew what she was doing. We would be in our own rooms, on our own beds, sans snacks. "You don't want ants in your bed do you", we were told. Actually, I remember sneaking dill pickles to my room during quiet time. I reasoned that pickles wouldn't attract ants. I liked pickles.



The other day, my daughter brought me a package of chocolate covered graham crackers as a special treat. I was excited and took a big old chomp. BLAH! No flavor at all. Candlewax? Parrafin? What is going on? Why would cookie makers take this drastic step? What are they thinking? Makes me wonder what other favorites have been updated and ruined. And this got me to thinking further about the state of cookies in America. Bought any at a bakery lately? They are way, way too over the top sweet. How come? You can't taste anything but sugar, which means all flavors now taste almost the same. Maybe that makes it easier on the bakeries.

My idea of the perfect cookie is the soft, raisin cookies my dear old Granny used to bake. Now that was a cookie to talk about. The dough was soft, the hints of cinnamon and nutmeg lingered on your tongue and the raisins were soft. They were not too sweet, allowing you to savor each and every flavor. Perfect. Keebler elves, call me.

Heart Surgery

"Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10


That has become my mantra ever since I found out that I was facing aortic heart valve replacement surgery. I came across it quite by divine intervention in the middle of the night. I have noticed that when you know you are going to have this kind of "moment" it is harder to go back to sleep in the wee hours. My mind has a tendancy to create a "thinking problem" and so I got up to read for awhile.




I enjoy the UPPER ROOM and as I read the daily lesson, I turned to my bible to read the selected verses. Then I discovered Psalm 51, verse 10. That's what I need God and my doctors to do, and it will be in the form of a mechanical valve, the On-X. I saw one and got to hold it. It's awfully pretty. By renewing the right spirit in me, I hope to face the future with a greater appreciation for all the blessings God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit have sent my way. Perhaps by documenting my experience I can provide information and reassurance to others facing the same situation.


Ever since I was pregnant with my first baby, I have been told I have a heart murmur. I don't think I have any symptoms, but have been seeing a cardiologist on a regular basis. Three months ago he didn't think surgery was imminent. Now he says the function has lessened to the extent that it is time to replace the valve. I had a heart catherization to make sure all other functions of the heart are normal, and they are. Both my dad and my younger brother had aortic heart valve replacement surgery in the mid-80's. My dad got a pig valve and my brother the Bjork-Shiley valve that has since been-recalled, a process which caused the company to go broke. Fortunately, my brother has not had any problems with his valve.

A friend and neighbor, where we normally would be at this time of year when it is 108 degrees in Tucson, had the same surgery. The only difference is that she received a pig valve, or "tissue" as the professionals prefer to call it. She gave me great encourgement as she passed on the lessons she learned. Follow the rules, get up and walk, have a good attitude, and press a pillow to your chest if you have to cough or sneeze. I can do all that!

Another friend at my church said he had the same surgery eight years ago. They told him he would have two good days and then a bad day, then two good days followed by another bad day. He said, "It's all about your attitude. I didn't like the sound of the bad day routine and I can honestly tell you I never had one."

As the big day approached, our family rallied and gathered to lend support. Lynne and Barry and their two doggies drove all the way from Lexington, Kentucky. Marja made plans to move in and provide round-the-clock care. Lisa, with two little boys to worry about, was the back-up go-to guy. On Monday, the pre-op day, Marja and Lynne insisted on accompanying me to all the appointments and interviews. They made an ordeal turn into fun and time passed quickly. They, ever since they were about 4 and 5 years old, have seen the humor in just about any situation, and they didn't let me down on pre-op day.

Since daughter Lynne is president of the International Spa Association, we were introduced to the world of "healing touch practitioners." You can google it and get a wonderful, wealth of information. One of Lynne's board members knew of a healing touch practitioner here in Tucson and I was fortunate to get an appointment with her on very short notice. You stretch out on a massage table, although there is a miminal amount of touching. Soft "spa music" fills the darkened room. It is a peaceful and soothing atmosphere. No words are said in the beginning. When she did put her hands on me, the result was sometimes a feeling of warmth, but more often just the gentle squeeze of her touch. Softly, she begins to offer guidance:

Think of a safe and peaceful place and go there in your mind. I went to a chair on the deck of our home in Wyoming, right under the view of the Grand Tetons.

Picture yourself surrounded by people who love you.

Imagine a white light coming from the heart of each person and shining on you. Breathe in that white light with each breath you take. It is the healing light of love and gratitude. (I came to think of it as the healing light of God's love.) Visualize the light coming into your heart as you inhale and exiting through the solar plexus when you exhale.

Let the faces fade and remain in this peaceful place surrounded by the white light. If/when your mind wanders, bring it back to the white light, your breath, and the peaceful place you have chosen.

You can "go to" this special place whenever you feel the need, and as often as you want to go. During the post op day, as the nurse got ready to draw blood, Lynne reminded me to go to my "place." It was good and wonderful advice.

The surgery was on tuesday, scheduled in the second time slot. Before I could begin complaining about not being first, I was told that the doc was operating on a six year old in the morning. I didn't utter my initial concern. The procedure took four and a half hours. I had wonderful care and can't say enough about my gifted (and famous) surgeons and doctors.

The only down time was during the dreaded "breather tube hours," when you can't talk. That's when the terrorist, in deep cover nurse-mode and sent by Saddam, came to kill me. Since I couldn't talk, nobody could listen to my concerns nor were they too interested in what I was trying to scribble on a pad of paper. My ever keen sense of survival kept me alert and somehow I was able to thwart the terrorist-nurse's attempt to sabotage my recovery.

The other worst time was when I had to prove that I could breathe on my own, or they wouldn't remove the breathing tube. Except that I couldn't stay awake and when I fell asleep the breathing tube took over. Nobody could make me stay awake. That is, not until they put Ron in charge. He was brutal, tenacious, loving, caring and accepted no excuses. I don't know how he did it, but he finally succeeded and the breathing tube was history. Oh happy day!

My healing touch practioner came in my hospital room twice. Quietly, and bringing a sense of peace, she walked around the bed, touched me gently, and left in a few minutes. I had been told that I would be in the hospital for six days. I came home in four. Healing energy, the best of care, and some of my resolve all must have played important roles.

Talk about loving, hovering home care. My team here is amazing. Great nourishing food, soothing glasses full of ice and juice, plump pillows, and hands extended to help at every turn. And not everyone is lucky enough to have a team of four nurse doggies on hand to lend warmth and comfort. They have each picked their spot to provide healing, two on my footstool and one by each side. I can't describe the feeling of healing warmth that was present when the five of us would take our assigned places and enjoy a snooze. How do doggies know when they are needed for special assignments? God works in wonderous ways, and doggies are certainly an important part of His army of angels.

Each day brings a feeling of getting stronger. Pain isn't so much a true feeling of pain, as it is one of pressure. I have never had a bad day, but I'm not doing jumping jacks or running sprints yet either. I started out doing laps around the back yard, increasing a lap each day. Then Ron and I would do an early morning walk on the High Mesa, going a little further each time. (You gotta get out early, we have been having hot, 108 degree days. UGH) In times of quiet, I can hear the On-X valve thumping along. A comforting sound, somehow.

TIP: The thought of wearing a bra was not a happy one. Then I had an "ah-ha!" and put a "sleep bra" over a T.shirt, and behold, it was pretty comfortable. Of course I covered all that up with another shirt before I ventured out in public. . . . and I've given away all my low cut shirts and strapless ball gowns. I don't want to look at the scar and don't think I should subject others to having to look at it either.

At one day shy of four weeks since surgery, I received a a final OK from my docs. We will soon be able to escape the desert heat and spend a few weeks in much cooler Jackson Hole. I need to sit on my deck, look at the Grand Tetons, and breathe a huge sigh of thanks for the role that special place played in making my "moment" much easier. And of course, thanks be to God.