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30 of our most Recent Postings:

1. Legacy Journal
2. Legacy Journal: Billy and the Bike: A Memoire of Deschutes Country
3. Legacy Journal: Memory Lane
4. Legacy Journal: Water, Swimming, and going with the Tide.
5. Legacy Journal: Haying in the upper John Day River Valley
6. Legacy Journal: Mother’s Day, Tessa’s 4th BD, and the Lilacs are Blooming in Highland Pk
7. Legacy Journal:  the Professional Specialists v the Gentlemen PolyMaths: Having it All?
8. Legacy Journal: May Day Musings: Muddling through the Maize
9. Legacy Journal:  Wednesday Leanings
10. Legacy Journal: Sunday Big Sur International Marathon
11. Legacy Journal: Saturday Prep
12. Legacy Journal: Fremont in Oregon
13. Legacy Journal: Saturday West timeline, first Native American “fossil” and Tracktown.
14. Legacy Journal: Hooray of the train.
15. Legacy Journal: Steve Chu of the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory
16. Legacy Journal: Klamath in Triplicate-- 1846 Carson, Fremont and Gillespie
17. Legacy Journal:Ranch Memoires
18. Legacy Journal: Mustang- Myths, Mascots and Machines
19. Legacy Journal: Darwin’s Man at Harvard: Asa Grey, Botony : collectioning and writing.
20. Legacy Journal:  Saturday Science Session
21. Legacy Journal: Rochester Rites of Spring: Squash, Squash, and more Squash
22. Legacy Journal: Saturday Style and Substance
23. Legacy Journal: Friday Final Edition:  Philanthropy, mandates, and Spring in the Rockies
24. Legacy Journal: Tuesday Lessions: Maps, Tall Tales, Western Trails
25. Legacy Journal:  Mellow Monday
26. Legacy Journal:  Spring, Easter, and NCAA MBB
27. Legacy Journal: Race, Coals to Newcastte, and Wednesday Technology
28. Legacy Journal: Economic Moral Hazard
29. Legacy Journal: Happy St. Patrick’s Day and Go Green
30. Legacy Journal: Sunday Shoot Out

LogRoller® : Keyword searching our LegacyJournal postings begins here.

[ Wednesday, December 12, 2007 12:11 ]

Legacy Journal

Section:

Alerts

Summary:

Current Developments:

Main:

: We are expanding the use of tags and categories to our journal postings.  To access the complete list, click on Achieve Listing # 1, * .  It is located up north, just above the first of the most recent 30 postings.  Be patient and the SQL server will prepare a nice alphanumeric listing that is fresh and current.

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 12/12 at 12:11 PM
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[ Friday, May 16, 2008 08:41 ]

Legacy Journal: Billy and the Bike: A Memoire of Deschutes Country

Section:

Personals

Summary:

Coming of Age Rites of Passage in the west of the 50s

Main:

While exploring my expanding world as a curious ten year old in the summer of 1950 , I had CO-conspirators.  We all lived the small safe central Oregon town of Redmond along the Deschutes River in lee the Three Sisters lava peaks of the central Oregon Cascade mountain range.  My mate was my best friend Billy.  He had a glint in his eye, a gloss to his rusty hair, and loads of high energy GO to his gait.  He was part Welch.

Billy was clearly an athlete at an early age.  He was quick, fearless, never tired, and enjoyed being at the center of the action.  Well muscled, short coupled, and low to ground, he had a Strong neck that supported a symmetrical head, a slightly dished nose, small ears, long eye lashes and a pixie like face.  Together, we would chase wild mustangs on BLM sagebrush benchlands, fish for rainbow trout in the waters below the falls or behind beaver dams, visit Paiute Warm Spring Native American obsidian arrowhead sites, and follow the deer grooved game trails to where every they might lead.  Little did we know ,or care, that the Pathfinder, John Charles Fremont of the Corp of Topographical Engineers, had surveyed and journaled the area along the Dalles to California corridor on horseback in the fall of 1843 during his second expedition. One of his party was a young Wasco Indian tribal youth who would return after to Chinook country as a Warm Springs leader after his education in the east.  He was called Billy Chinook.

However, our adventures were partially informed from local sources. One was the summer book reading list for kids at the local Carnegie funded public library.  Walter Farley’s Black Beauty was on the list.  Part of the pleasure of that place was to see the stars add up behind your name on the bulletin board as each book was checked out and mostly read.  The librarians seemed to have a sense of the kind of books that mattered most to us.  Adventure and discovery stories fit well.  My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. VanNice , may have conspired with the librarians.  Second, our adventures, both real and imagined were supplemented by the Saturday matinee at the Odem movie theater where the serial was as likely to feature Roy Rogers and his palomino horse Trigger as not.  After the popcorn fueled bad guy chase and roundup, it was time to hit the bar next door for some phosphate refreshment.  We were a one soda fountain town.

Buck, the hired man was another enabling adult.  He was from a ranch in Oklahoma where the grass was green and lush, and he seemed knew the trick of raising kids.  “ Put them on the right horse, and give them free rein” was his motto.  Like Billy, Buck had reddish hair, sported appropriate footwear and exuded a bit of the dare.  His faded blue jeans matched his eyes and fit the lean arch of his lower frame like a second skin. Buck skin groves were holstered at the ready is a soft loop on convenient right side of his thick black strap leather belt.

Both Billy and Buck were disappointed by my July birthday present that year.  Dad thought it was time for my first bike and that bike changed everything.  I was rapidly transitioning during my teen years from single horse power to pedal pushing to the internal combustion engine. 

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/16 at 08:41 AM
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[ Thursday, May 15, 2008 13:04 ]

Legacy Journal: Memory Lane

Section:

Personals

Summary:

“Make My Weekend” : A Classic Black and White Colorful Kodak Moments at the Mission Ranch, Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA.

Main:

The fall of 2007 offered an opportunity for the Rochester branch of the family to gather back in northern California with old and new friends, scattered members of the tribe, members of the San Jose Welch family, and son Damon’s buddies from the Empire State, “The City”, and Santa Rosa in Sonoma County for some golf, and --- oh yes, a wedding.

For the Fisks, it was the first formal family wedding in more than thirty-five years.

It was kind of a return to the 1820-1850 Mexican Californio era.  The Mission of Junipera Serra was a short hike up the Valley of the Carmel River. Down river, a protected wetland seeped into the Pacific Ocean at a sandy cove just to the west of the fenced Ranch grounds where sheep grazed.

We bunked out in the restored and plumbed ranch out building.  Chuck wagon grub and Strong coffee brewed by the grandsons of former vaqueros was available at the cook house at the first light. Horses were stabled on rancheros next to the golf course in Carmel Valley. 

The local sights included cypress rimmed pristine beaches and cliffs festooned with native plants and touring plein aire painters The marine marshes were protected and populated with birds, bugs and aquatic species that could warm the heart of Rachel Carson. Tide pools worthy of attention from Steinbeck and “Doc” Rickets, and shops to tempt the most reticent credit card holder complimented the scene.

A quick drive away was Monterrey, Cannery Row, calamari cuisine, and the historic presidio.

But, the weekend belonged to Rebecca Welch, son Damon and their special guest of honor, 94 year old Grandma Ruth.  She jetted in from Corvallis for the Groom’s dinner, the sunny early afternoon outdoor wedding, the reception, the wedding dinner, and the following fandango.  She did not miss a beat or a photo op.

At 2230 it was time for the younger generation to load into the bus and head out for the Boar’s Breath a cool basement jazz piano bar in the center of town.

The following day it was a burrito BBQ on the beach, a bracing dip in the surf, and final farewell hugs all around.  The bride and groom then departed to catch a flight for a rest and some privacy in the warm azure blue of the Greek Isles.

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/15 at 01:04 PM
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Legacy Journal: Water, Swimming, and going with the Tide.

Section:

Watercooler

Summary:

A run up to the Olympic Games 080808

Main:

I do not recall a time that I have not regarded water from a mostly positive point of view. Maybe it it the surname Fisk, Swedish for fish; maybe it is a vestigial DNA remnant from a former Chinook salmon tree of life ancestor.

Oh, there was a little chop along the way. I recall the time I had to pull my two year old sister out of the deep freeze drink when she fell through an ice bridge while crossing a rushing Strawberry Creek that ran through Grandpa’s place where we were otherwise spending a traditional, safe , cozy, kid centered eastern Oregon Christmas. Today, she has no recollection of the event. 

Come to think of it, I have experienced some seasick moments crossing the bar at the mouth of the Columbia River at Astoria, and rolling with the waves in a storm while waiting to dock at the lime stone cliffs Dover after an English Channel ferry crossing on.  But, those were mostly no harm - no foul events.

Water for me is all about fun, motion, beauty and power. 

My Rites of Passage included climbing up Horsetail Falls with a full pack into the Desolation Wilderness Area above Lake Tahoe to the granite moonscape of the high Sierra that is the snowy source of the American River, fishing behind beaver dams on the Klamath Indian Reservation, SCUB diving solo in mile high alpine Lake Strawberry, spring time water skiing on Lake Shasta with all of my 34 Malin H.S. senior classmates, and carving a pattern of syncopated 15 ft rooster tails behind a single fiberglass slolom ski while skimming across glassy smooth surface of Lake-of-the-Woods during quiet midweek evening after work at the Klamath Fall molding plant. 

Watching white water pound over the spillways at Grande Coulee, Bonneville, and Hoover Dams was also part of my experience exploring the American west .

Another part of my expanding experience included the waves of the warm Atlantic in Southern Florida.  Even the wind driven, poison laden Portuguese Men-of-War cast up on the beach could not deter youthful curiosity. 

The lure of water adventuring matured into vacations to Makaha Beach for viewing the Surfing Championships and weekend sailing in western San Francisco Bay from a berth in Sausalito, and bare-boat cruising in the the U.S. and British Virgin Islands.  Free diving the reefs, challenging the surge of the surf and tides among the lava flows and cavorting with the dolphins around the Capt Cook Memorial in Hawaii’s Kialakekua Bay was part of the fun and part of the adventure challenge. 

However, the best was yet to come with a two year experience with the DAM swimming club in Davis, CA.  A local, the non Marvel comic character, Ironman Triathlete Dave Scott, was the founding coach of that group, now largest Masters Club in the U.S.A.  For two years on a 0545 and 1000 AM x 7 day x 52week schedule, I learned about the power of swimming, I had missed watching Johnny Weismuller on Tarzan B-W films, taking summer polio season swimming lessons at the Redmond Community Pool , or later doing after work laps in the Malin Community pool in hopes of making a University frosh swimming team.

What I had previously missed was the power of good technique, proper coaching, disciplined practice and group support.  Much of my group support came from charter Davis DAM members and workout regulars like Steve Watson, Harry Colvin, Susan Munn, and Lucille Richards.  They, and others, were youthful beyond their seventy plus years.  One result was a trip to St. George, Utah, the Huntsman Senior Games, and a swimming event metal.

Among our group, there was a running debate as to who or what had launched our shared love of the water.  Truth to be told, in the men’s dressing room, the usual winner was the ever youthful Esther Williams.  I can not speak to the conversations in the women’s dressing room.

However, I can guarantee that the DAM dressing room chatter will be focused on Olympic Swimming times and records come August, 2008 in Bejiing China


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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/15 at 08:06 AM
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[ Tuesday, May 13, 2008 11:36 ]

Legacy Journal: Haying in the upper John Day River Valley

Section:

Environment

Summary:

“Hay is the foundation of civilization in the northern climes"---- futurist, physicist, and Templeton Award winner Freeman Dyson





Main:

Going Green at Sixteen by Doug Fisk, May 2008

For the Fisks and the Forrests mid-July in the fifies was a time for three generations to gather and Go Green.

On working cattle ranches in the upper John Day Valley of eastern Oregon, haying season was and is serious business and a heck of a lot of fun.

The Forrest ranch is 4,000 acre spread located just up river to the east of the pioneer village of Prairie City.  In its “hayday” “the ranch” was a cow and calf operation that shipped 1200 lb, lean and meaty 2year old grass fat steers to the Portland market or to a buyer from Safeway markets.  The deal was usually make on a handshake,

One square mile of the ranch was green irrigated wild natural meadow grass that was mowed, sun dryed, winnow raked into rows, bucked up in bunches, and piled into loose two story high mounds using an overshot stacker. It was kind of a 2 weeks blitzkrieg that was hopefully free of thundershowers.  The harvest result became winter fodder and the only feed for the herd of carefully bred Herefords.  Home grown, individually selected, broad beamed cows, their gestating calves to be, range bulls imported from Red Bluff, CA, this year’s weaners, and last year’s yearlings were all the beneficiaries of open field winter feedings that were hand pitched daily from a low-rider hay wagon.  It was a cycle that was self sustaining, season driven and largely powered by machines that had replaced the preWWII one, two, and four horse powered teams hitched to primative iron wheeled implements.

Now, rubber shod Ford tractors were fitted with mowing machines and blades that were carefully sharped daily, a canvas canopyed WWII jeep pulled the winnow rack, and the power hay bucks, pickup victims of road kill that were rescued, repaired and given new life in the winter shop. darted about the field like hounds fetching rabbits.  A big green stationary John Deere diesel was outfitted with a long ponderosa pine fork received the catch for stacking.

The machine operators were mostly family high schoolers who gathered from around the state to bunk out at Uncle Orrin’s ranch, help in the kitchen, feast and put on weight around Auntie Christina’s huge table, man the equipment, and shoot some spirited pool in the basement after the evening chores were finished.  Teen age cousin John was an only child, so he particularly benefited from the kid gathering.

One memorable summer, Jimmy Howard , a towny, and I were the designated power hay buck jockys.  We had a spirited racing competition.  Our cockpit perches were open ai, the wind and bugs were in your face, and your saddle like seats were unbelted.  The game was to see who could deliver the most hay to the stacker from soggy and slippery ditch banks and from the far fences bordering the fields. The hazards included the ignomy of getting stuck in the mud or running a fork down a gopher hole.  The competition continued after dinner around the green felt pool table in ranch house basement with Uncle Orrin quietly and approvingly looking on.
.
His ancient fiddle and his player piano was by that time mute and unused upstairs in the parlor where Strawberry Mountain to the south was framed in a picture window.

The times, they do change.  The ranch was a major part of my uncle’s life.  He had passed on college to inherit the property from Grandpa Clyde.  That was the verbal bargain they made made many years prior and he had no regrets.  However, were he alive, he would have been saddened, if not despirited, by recent news.  The ranch has been sold by the third generation to the Consolidated Indian Tribes of the Warms Springs, now the largest private land owner in the state.

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/13 at 11:36 AM
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[ Saturday, May 10, 2008 08:22 ]

Legacy Journal: Mother’s Day, Tessa’s 4th BD, and the Lilacs are Blooming in Highland Pk

Section:

Arts and Culture

Summary:

Erika Little, daughter Tessa, live in the Lilac Festival, Highland neighborhood so this May weekend is to be a perfect Trifecta trice celebrated



Main:





* First, Tessa Little is now officially four years old.  The California Princess has made the Rochester transition in style and is preping for KG in the Brighton School District in the Fall of 2009.  Meanwhile, she is continues to play the role of Emma's younger sister, best friend and student, cat tormentor, and non-stop asker of questions about how stuff works. 

** The Lilac Festival around the corner in Highland Park is in full bloom and the weekend music is swinging.  The opening parade with Strong Drum and Bugle Corps from the upstate region, is now history.

*** Meanwhile, Erika Little has earned the title Mother of the Year.  Relocating cross country from California, finding and updating the perfect house, guiding the kids, working at the URMC, in a Clinical Research Unit, and hosting guests and visitors is only part of the Little story of the past eight months.

The truth is, Mom’s tend to be the world’s most passionate warriors and best truth tellers.

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/10 at 08:22 AM
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[ Thursday, May 08, 2008 13:29 ]

Legacy Journal:  the Professional Specialists v the Gentlemen PolyMaths: Having it All?

Section:

None

Summary:

Peak performance across the board is difficult whether one is dancing with the stars or training as a triathlete.  Gina Koleta of the nytimes continues to impress with her columns on exercise and competition. 

Main:

The same can be said of country naturalists, like Charles Darwin, working and writing from home at in Kent during the haydays of 19th century Victorian England.  The amateurs with all their enthusiasm for beatles and barnicles, reputations protected by a coterie of friends and family, and popular publishing success , were being replaced by the professional academics, societies, laboratories, and the latest in German instrumentation and organized science research

Meanwhile, the University of Rochester had a one day meeting at the City Convention Center for health care professionals treating women who are are pbese, diabetic or both. Guess what?

* American women are eating more, exercising less ,and gaining weight just like the Pina Indians did after they gave up their hunting and gathering more than a century ago.

* Fat woman are a risk for early death, growing big babies during pregnancy, having wound infections, and being difficult to manage during anesthesia and fetal evaluation exams like ultrasound.

* They may even break standard delivery room and operating room tables.  Whoa!

* Gastric bypass and banding surgery many have better, faster and more cost effective than medical therapy for morbid obesity in a properly selected population. 

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Posted by: webscribe2 on 05/08 at 01:29 PM
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