September 18, 1989

In September of 1989, we survived Hurricane Hugo. We weren't in the much publicized Charleston area. My family and I endured the fury of Hugo on the island of Puerto Rico in the Caribbean. We were living on Naval Station Roosevelt Roads near Ceiba, in the southeast corner of the island. My husband Mike's job, with the Navy, sent us there in July. We moved lock, stock and barrel, so to speak.

At the time of the storm, the barge with our "barrels" had not yet arrived. We were waiting for our household goods, living in our Navy quarters with borrowed mattresses and cheap Navy-owned rattan furniture. As the week progressed, so did a tropical depression. It was only a matter of time before it became a hurricane.

Mike's job was to be second in command for the base and the rest of the Navy's interests throughout the Caribbean. We were accustomed to his long hours and weekends in the office already. However, nothing prepared us for the actual hurricane readiness AND aftermath.

When it became evident we were a target on Hugo's path, Mike showed us how to use a hand-held radio, kissed us good-bye and left in our only set of wheels. Being the parent-in-charge, I felt the need to put up a brave front for our children, ages newly 6, 3-1/2 and 1. After all, I was raised in the Midwest and saw countless summer thunderstorms and tornadoes. I kept telling myself this was just going to be a really big thunderstorm, right?

We lived on a cul-de-sac with six other houses, all inhabited by other senior Naval officers with important jobs. A couple wives had Red Cross volunteer duties and left to help man the shelter where they would be helping folks from town, tourists, boaters and other Navy families who needed a safe place to be.

While the winds picked up, I stepped outside to look at the water churning in the bay below the cliff where we lived. Naturally my camera at the ready to document and make it all seem more routine for the kids.

When I closed the door to come back to the house, we heard a large rumbling crash. The kids and I turned to see the patio cover, which once sheltered us from the blazing midday sun and most recently me, strewn on the cement patio. This was the moment I knew we weren't in Kansas anymore!

Fighting the need to panic, I walked across the street to one neighbor I knew was still home and shared my trouble. Together we picked up the splintered 2x4's and roofing materials and threw them down the cliff. We had to remove anything that might become a projectile during the storm. He helped me tape "x's" on our window panes to prevent them from shattering. We secured trash cans and double checked our storage area. Once our task was complete he returned home and I went back in to the kids. The skies were darkening and the winds were increasing. I was so grateful for the help. Doyle was a veteran tropical storm survivor and I found his presence calming.

The kids and I spread out sleeping bags in a safe corner of the dining room, away from the direct line of the storms and windows. We watched the base TV station until the power went out. With my trusty mini-mag flashlight for illumination we sang songs and I tried to recall their favorite stories. It wasn't long when we heard a knock on the door. It was Mimi, from across the street. She too, was sticking out the storm by herself and insisted the kids and I come join her in her well-furnished home. I loaded up kids, their blankets, a couple of toys, some snacks and diapers, and braved the now increasing winds to cross the street.

This radar actually shows the storm after it passed over the Island. It went right over the southeast corner of our paradise.

I was so thankful for the company. Our children were absolutely perfect - settling in to bed. We listened to her radio, heated water over Sterno for tea and waited. The noise was deafening. It was like a train screaming by the window for hours on end - eighteen hours to be exact. I was amazed the kids were able to sleep through any of it.

It wasn't at all delightful. We were shifting furniture away from the walls and soaking up the endless water pouring into the house through the seams of the windows. We wrung towels until our hands cramped and blistered. I prayed it would soon end but that wasn't to be. We watched out the window, expecting to see it clearing and instead noticed the palm trees were now blowing the other direction!

Quickly we were moving furniture to the other side of the house and once again struggling to keep up with the never ending supply of water. During one check out the window, I could see the rising storm surge. It was near the top of the cliff, almost 30 feet up.

As morning approached, our well-rested children were awake. I fed them pop tarts and juice boxes in-between the bucket brigade. I realized then how truly blessed we were with our children. Somehow, even at their tender, young age, they knew how serious the situation was and did exactly what I asked them to do... Gosh, if only history would repeat itself from then on.

Early afternoon we heard a knock at the door. It was Mike. He was out inspecting damage on the base. They would soon be giving everyone an "all clear". He helped me carry the kids back home before returning to the Operations Center. It was then that I realized what had transpired. The damage was incredible. The beautiful hibiscus hedges were stripped clean. Paralyzed palm trees and coconuts laid about like giant Tinker toys. The houses had a yellowish-green tint, stained from the foliage blown around.

Our beautiful paradise looked as if someone dropped a bomb in the middle. It brought tears to my eyes. Reality was cruel. The strength of the wind hit me when I saw our upright freezer laying on it's side in the driveway. It started out under the fallen patio coverin back of the house and traveled through the carport, some 25 feet. Even our new vehicle took a hit. The peat gravel, from the top of the building where Mike worked, scattered around in the wind and shattered the glass and pitted the paint. There was glass embedded in our son's car seat. I kept telling myself, "we are OK, thank the Lord!". I wanted to believe it. I didn't realize there was more to come.

Our glass-free windows. We weren't alone. There weren't many vehicles on base left with glass.

We slid the freezer back up the driveway into the carport and then stopped to get a grip on what happened.

Looking out from our cul-de-sac across the bay just before the official 'all clear'. .

Without our furniture, we were also without the necessities such as candles, flashlights and portable radio. We had five beach towels. Not nearly enough to start cleaning up the water awaiting me in our house. I opened our closet door and watched a river of shoes float down the hall. There was muddy water standing in most rooms. The screens in the laundry room had no chance of survival, thus flooding the kitchen. In anticipation of our furniture's arrival, we had recently purchased large area rugs to cover the Navy-issue floor tiles. Our new rugs were soaked and dirty. I wasn't sure where to start, but chose the kitchen. We had no running water, only bottled water and the water in the tubs which we filled before the storm. We had no electricity nor phones. I felt so isolated. Just me... and 3 small children. I slowly wiped up and pushed water out the door. As the neighborhood returned to life, someone brought over extra towels and a cooler. Another brought over a bucket and mop. Yet another dropped off an extra flashlight and radio. Navy families looking after one another. I was thrilled with their gestures of kindness. It would be hours before I would see my husband and I was feeling very anxious to get cleaned up before dark.

We spent our first night on a mattress on the floor. I wanted my children near me. Sometime during the night, Mike returned, but his sleep was interrupted in less than an hour, when Base Security came to tell him of an emergency. He was up and out again. This became a way of life for the next few months. But this night, people were being medivaced to the base hospital from St. Croix, which was hit hard. Again, I realized the potential of what could have been.

We had an option to leave the island temporarily until utilities were restored. We chose to stick it out as a family, taking advantage of any free time Mike might get to be together. Our progress continued throughout the coming weeks. We were part of a community pulled together, helping one another. Base personnel moved outside of the secured gates and continued to help the smaller, less fortunate communities surrounding the base. The Navy provided bladders of water and generators. Neighbors helped strangers. It was like a family pulling together.

One day when I was struggling to pull a large, wet carpet outdoors, two wives wandered over to assist. As tears of frustration streamed down my face, I found their helping hands and hugs both comforting and reassuring.

Another time I saw coconut rats running across the patio on the fallen palm trees. I called Mike on the radio, our only means to communicate. I couldn't permit the kids outside with rats running in the lawn. My anger with my inability to make everything right got the best of me and I told Mike to either come help or get me off the Island. It wasn't long before a van load of young men pulled up. Dressed in their work shorts and little else, these tan, muscular UDT Seal team members came to my rescue. With axes and chain saws they told me to 'sit down and relax', while they took care of everything. I was overcome by an incredible sense of relief (and the view wasn't bad either). They worked their way around our house, cutting and stacking the trees on the curb and later returning to haul them away. They even carried off the coconuts the kids and I had gathered into a pile.

Each day I continued to try the phone lines. When I finally heard a faint dial tone, I wasn't sure who to call. Both my parents were working and Mike's were retired but seldom home. I called my in-laws and was elated when I heard Mom's voice. She called my family to let them know we were okay. It would still be several days before I would speak with my own parents. A week later we received a care package from family - lanterns, flashlights, candles, matches, batteries (and two large electric oscillating fans - but it's the thought that counts). It was heaven sent!

We were treated to meals under tents at the main chow hall. The food in the chow hall freezers was thawing. Families, stranded tourists and civilians were permitted to eat for free. We didn't have much in the house that hadn't spoiled without electricity. Finding ice, to keep what little we had cool, was a challenge. We had to wait in long lines and quantities were limited. Before sunrise one morning I heard a light rap at the door. I hesitated to answer because of the house, but wondered if Mike had sent someone out with a message. Much to my surprise I found one of the senior SEAL team members holding a large bag of ice for our cooler. This became a regular event. I didn't even care what the neighbors would think about my pre-dawn visitor. I was able to buy milk and juice to keep in the cooler. There was always more ice than we could use in a day and it was a pleasure to share my new found wealth with friends.

We heard news of the turmoil Hugo left behind in Charleston. We were sympathetic but knew they would find comfort in their adjoining 47 states while we were dependent on what could be brought in by sea or air. How fortunate we were the runways were undamaged and barge traffic was starting up again.

The wives from Mike's work group stuck together One was to celebrate her birthday, without her husband, in primitive conditions. We put our heads together and created a unique birthday party. We had a recipe for no-bake cookies. Between the group, we were able to come up with enough ingredients, some fruit, sun tea and chocolate! It was a special uniting event for all of us!

Eventually (read. months) the Navy was able to fly in large semi-trailer sized generators which were capable of providing several hours of electricity and air conditioning to the housing areas. Water mains were repaired and running water was restored. It was all temporary and went out without warning, but it didn't matter. We survived the worst of it. Even our furniture arrived safe and sound - in November. Step by step our lives returned to normal. We truly had much to be thankful for Thanksgiving of 1989.

I've never forgot the way an isolated island of people joined together to survive. Now back in the states, with the Navy just a memory, kind acts and thoughtfulness remain a big part of my memory and something I want to pay forward. I will make sure of this!

Be Careful Repeating 800 Phonetic #'s...

We were looking for the information on Gold Forks Hot Springs when visiting the area. Mike found an advertisement and told Krieg the number was 1-866-Goldforks.

Krieg called - waiting to hear how late they were open - and instead looked up from his phone with his jaw dropped to his chest and a red tint rising to his ears. He said "sheez Mom - is this some kind of joke?". I thought he was pulling my chain as poking fun at Mom is a National Past-time in our family. He insisted the recorded message was NOT Gold Forks but something a tad more suggestive...

Ok, so I couldn't resist. You know what? He was right!

The number wasn't G-O-L-D-F-O-R(K-S)... it was G-L-D-F-R-K-S.

Oops! Guess who else was blushing.

(Ah-ha - go ahead... you know you are gonna...!)

Half Way to Hood River

Labor Day weekend we traveled to Hood River, OR to meet up with very good friends who moved this summer from southern California to Everett, WA. In previous years we've been able to meet up once or twice for a Harley weekend. Mike is still 'off' the bike and if my backside had an opinion, I'm certain it would agree this was a much better deal! And best of all Hood River is exactly 4-1/2 hours between the middle of our two homes.

Saturday morning we ventured off for the Mt. Hood Fruit Loop. If you've never been and are within driving range, it's a great trip and only a 35 mile scenic drive on Hwy 35. Orchards, nuts, vineyards, bakeries, Country Stores, lavender farms and a couple of alpaca ranches. There are actually published maps showing the designated places that encourage visitors. I went through the list earlier to determine which were most appealing. Several of the orchards were out of season, a couple were 'you pick', and a couple required appointments.

We picked this one because I gave the guys a choice and it was first on the list - how practical - because that's how these two roll. The view was specatular with a glimpse of Mt. Adams in the background. The wine was good even at 11 o'clock in the morning. Wine tasting was $5/person or free if you made a purchase. Mike and I like our "I've been there" wine glasses so we had to buy our logo glasses in addition to a bottle of the local wine.

Our next stop was the Apple Valley Country Store, where they were celebrating Labor Day weekend with an outdoor BBQ and live music. I'm not a big pork eating person, much to Mike's chagrin. He shakes his head when I tell him it 'tastes too porky'. I knew I was going to have a pulled pork sandwich as soon as we walked towards the smoker and my mouth started watering. The meat was smoked with cherry (it was an orchard after all) wood. Our overflowing, large pulled pork sandwich came with a fresh pear cole slaw and a side of delicious apple cider baked beans. YUM. Mike was thrilled with the music as our left-handed guitar player knew many Willie Nelson songs from back then. Our little foursome conceeded the only thing that would have made it better would have been an ice cold beer.

Inside the store we were treated to a large variety of jams and jellies made from the fruit of the apple and pear orchards that surrounded us. My favorite was the raspberry habanero jelly! Fresh-baked, homemade pies were for sale and literally going like hot-cakes. There was a small counter with Tillamook ice cream for the well-behaved as well as a creative selection of crafts for sale.

My favorite stop of the day was the Cascade Alpaca Ranch or more precisely the Foothills Yard and Fiber store found ON the ranch. This is an amazing set up. The owners Tom & Connie, and their alpacas, were filmed for an American Express commercial and the ranch was visited by Jane Pauley in April. My personal ambition is to one day have some acreage and a few alpacas. Originally my kids knew it was going to be "Mama's Llamas" but research has drawn me to the alpacas breed instead. Besides they are just too dang cute - and a much nicer creature. If you are looking for a new watch dog get a llama - very protective.

 

 Our visit turned into a very informative alpaca update as well as a lesson from the owner as he shared his personal 'therapy' session - spinning the alpaca fur into threads and winding them on bobbins. The yarn feels as soft as silk. It's a haven for those of us who have a Touch Sensory Obsession!


My shopping mission was successful (and then some) and I'm excited to say I have a Christmas gift purchased.

The Ranch has 68 head of Alpaca and the combined group eat only 2 bales of hay a day. The owners offer small dixie cups of feed for the kids to purchase for a quarter, only one per family, as the animals are nibblers. There is a small petting area where the snack ready younger alpacas come to check out the little hands holding the treats. The adorable dog Charlie looks like a giant marshmallow and just follows folks around waiting for someone to notice.

We had a wonderful southern view of Washington's Mt. Adams across the Columbia River gorge when we stopped at Packer Orchard and Bakery. While I'm proud to be a Wisconsin Cheese head and have a birth right as a Green Bay Packer fan, the name of this stop was pure coincidence... it was... honest!

The Packer Bakery offered up delicious LARGE cookies - 5 for $5 or $1.25. My favorite combination was the dried cherry and white chocolate. The orchards surrounding this stop were pears and a large variety were for sale. They offered you a second ice cream temptation and fruit empanadas as well. We sat under the covered patio enjoying our treats.

It was only fair, if I got to go to a yarn store, the guys should get to have a testosterone moment. I found information for the Western Antique Aeroplane and Automobile Museum located near the Fruit Loop in Hood River. This was a no brainer for our group - all four Navy veterans, Mike and Michael both aviation careers. I won't discuss the usage of GPS to find the address as the guys were leading the way and it might hurt their feelings. In their defense they did stop a young man for directions and he pointed out our turn was just up the road (right past the sign with the same directions...).

There was a $10 veterans admission fee to see the very well restored planes and cars as well as firetrucks, tractors, motorcycles and military vehicles. It's a guy place. Linda and I found a nice corner with tables and chairs (and a child's play area on miniatures) and visited while the guys checked it out. It was actually a surprising, (little) museum nestled next to a small airport with a great view of the area.

The view from the north side of the Museum was Mt. Hood. We were so blessed with good weather all weekend. We've driven back and forth along this stretch of the gorge so many times and never stopped. We've had pouring rains and bitter cold winds. This weekend were were blessed with clear skies, mild temperatures and sunshine!

As our day wound down, we ventured back into Hood River and stopped at the Full Sail Brewing Company, home of Henry Weinhardts beer. We missed the hourly afternoon tours and waited only ten minutes for a cozy little spot on the patio. Finally, we indulged in a few ice cold microbrews, to.die.for.Buffalo wings and delish artichoke dip while contemplating AND solving the problems of the world and watching the brave souls in the Columbia River parasailing!

Sunday morning we enjoyed our coffee and free-with-the-room breakfast at our hotel in The Dalles. We ended up staying at a comfy chain hotel that offered Michael & Linda the ability to bring their dog. It was only 20 miles from the Hood River area and worked out very well for our weekend plans. We found a delicious menu at Casa Del Mirador in The Dalles for dinner - TWICE! :-)

After checking out we followed the suggestion of the hotel staff and went to the west end of The Dalles to visit the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center. Mike has a passion for all things Lewis and Clark as well as the Pacific Northwest Indians. He reads books based on their travels and shares stories about their encounters when we follow their route on our many trips throughout the Pacific Northwest. He was excited to see the Center we've driven by TWICE every trip between Boise and Portland.

The admission fee was reasonable - we were offered Mike's senior discount plus our veteran discount. The view along the river was beautiful and there is a nice scenic walk way on the grounds. Though we didn't see any raptors during our visit, they boast of their presence and offer Raptor talks.

I imagined the Discovery Center to be a great spot for school field trips when the class is studying Lewis and Clark, or Oregon State History. It has much to offer for all ages in addition to the Lewis and Clark details, including an ice-age mammoth and tales of the early missionaries of Wasco County.

We've actually seen mountain goats like this one on our drive along Hwy 84 - usually in the area of milepost 122. The Dalles covers 4-5 miles around milepost 79 and the exit to the Fruit Loop in Hood River was milepost 64.

One last look at the Columbia River. The sky was so clear and blue. The sun warmed our souls as we wound up our weekend spent with dear friends. One thing we learned - there are lots more places in the area to see - and so many other "half way" places we can meet to explore. We are already planning the next trip!

Balloon Launch

This is the year I completed a half century milestone and made up my mind it was time to fulfill some of those 'bucket list' items.

Watching a hot air balloon would not have been one of the most significant items but still a selection. We've been fortunate over the years to see balloons fly over the valley. And what luck! This year Boise brought the hot air balloons back to the city in celebration of the 100th anniversary of flight.

On my day off, Mike and I were up with the alarms before dawn. Did I mention it was my day off? We loaded our coffee thermos mugs and headed downtown for the park in the dark early morning.


As the sun rose over the horizon, and the foothills, the speakers began sharing the history behind the balloon launch.

We were treated to a National Guard A-10 fly over. The engines reverberated in my chest cavity as a patriotic song played over the PA system.

And Governor Otter told the group "Ladies and Gentlemen, launch your balloons!".

We had access on the same ground with the balloons. The teams pulled the balloon tops out of the containers like a fly strip out of its case. The large fans began filling the balloons with air. Once the balloons became upright the baskets were set up and loaded with the very fortunate passengers while the propane gas flames heated the balloons, preparing them for flight.

I was giddy with excitement, hurrying to get the colors of each of the 28 balloons. It was a beautiful explosion of color! A site to behold. Truly worth the early morning.

Feeding my OCD

Today the temperatures outdoors are finally cooperating. I've been wanting to dig into the garage attic for months (read years). Today is the day!

We moved in this house November 2002 from a larger house. We downsized before it was cool to downsize. Many things were donated and sold. It was an emotional move - Mike lost his job, we sold our home built a year previously, and I was just starting a new job. We still had four (smaller) bedrooms and a much smaller garage. The attic was our safe haven for things we didn't know what to do with but weren't prepared to get rid of yet.

Since then we've added, made weak attempts at reorganizing. Partly because the stairway was scary unsafe. Last fall the guys upgraded the attic stairs. I've just been waiting - for that right day. Today is the right day!

Military plaques, kid's storage, trains sets, I can't even remember it all... Mike is always giving me grief about organizing, sorting and giving things away. Today I have his approval. He is in agreement. It needs to be done.

It's a new dawn for clutter! My OCD-ness will reach a new high!

This Day in History...

August 18, 2009

For the dramatic effect, I begin... it was a day like any other day.

I worked - and spent the evening preparing our home for the arrival of Matt, Brit and Taten. I recall sitting in the office after deciding how much of Krieg's belongings should be packed up out of Tate's reach. Matt & Brit were moving into the guest room and some furniture had to be shuffled and both closets cleared. They had been living with her parents, putting money aside in hopes of getting a place of their own. I was excited to have them move in - and yet somewhat frustrated at having to make the changes to my way of living. Very selfish.

We were settled into our bedtime routine after 11pm when the phone rang. It was Britnee. She was crying. She said the sheriff's department was at the door. They wanted Matthew woke up to talk to him about a burglary. We dashed into clothes and drove around the block in time to see OUR SON being walked, barefoot in pajama bottoms and handcuffs, to a squad car. My heart plummeted and jumped out of my chest all at the same time.

I raced from a barely stopped car with Mike yelling at me from inside. I approached the pair of deputies and Matthew. We knew the officers from working in Dispatch. One greeted me personally by my first name - like we'd just run into one another at the mall. Mike caught up and we asked what was going on.

We were told an individual from Star reported his home had been burglarized and the neighbor identified a vehicle believed to be Matt's. They asked to have access to the jeep, as it was our property. We gave consent. Matt was being taken in for questioning.

I kept thinking - this is a horrible nightmare - and I'll wake up at any moment. We were allowed to speak with Matt from the squad car door. He told us he didn't do it. We told him to be honest and but say no more.

They'd brought the witness to town in a squad car. The car was parked across the street from the house when she identified Matthew. It was nearly midnight - and dark. She was able to say for sure she knew it was Matthew she saw at the neighbor's house - while he was standing on the porch in the house light. The next day, when she gave her official statement, she said she saw a tall blond guy walking around the victim's yard. He was wearing a dark tshirt. Matt is 6'4 and had a shaved head but his hair is dark. That day he wore a dark tshirt to work. Britnee never did find a white tshirt in the laundry and it wasn't in the jeep.

As they left, one of the other deputies stopped and gave us a wave and said "good to see you - you all have a nice night!". Oh for sure. You are dragging my son from his bed, handcuffed off to be interrogated for a crime... it's bound to be a great night! I wanted to reach out and choke the life from his eyes.

We waited.

The story was Matthew was to have broken into Jason's, a former coworker, residence about 7:15 that night. The neighbor was certain it was Matthew jeep - because it had some personalized license plates and a flag (though she couldn't recall the plate what the plate was). Jason claimed he was missing electronics (he couldn't be more specific) and $800.

Jason didn't know exactly where Matthew was living - couldn't give the address but a general area. The jeep is registered in our name at our address. The cops never came here to ask for Matthew, and instead did an area search to locate the jeep and THEN run the plate. Jason was very familiar with the jeep. He'd seen it daily when working with Matt and knew it sat in the work lot unattended every day. He would certainly be able to give a description to someone if he desired. Jason was disgruntled with his employer and was harassing Matthew about work.

Another part of the story. The same witness-neighbor told Matthew, on one of his visits to mow, they were going to lose their truck to bankruptcy. Not long after the accusations and arrest were made, the truck was still around. They were able to keep the truck. Mind you the missing money was never found in Matt's possessions and there were no large, new purchases made.

The timeline was a hard one to swallow.

Matthew dropped his boss off on the southeast end of town at 6:30pm. He then drove the work truck and trailer with a coworker across town, stopping at a Quickmart for Gatorade. His boss' home is located on the north end of Eagle. north of Boise. The burglary was to have taken place in Star, west of Boise, about 10-15 minutes from the boss' home. It's easily a 45 minute drive to go from where Matt dropped off his boss, to the work yard. Nearly impossible to do in traffic - and no way to get again out to Jason's place in 45 minutes.

At the risk of sounding like a mom in denial - it just isn't possible to do.

At the time, Jason had just got out of jail on probation - again - for a parole violation with an original charge for drug sales. He was fired from his job where Matt worked. Jason lived in a small cluttered house (the police photos were so full of stuff I'm not sure how one would determine anything was missing) - which Matthew had visited upon occasion. No surprise they found a finger print on a window sill - Matt painted it. Matthew, ever the tender heart, helping those troubled souls and try to care for strays risking being bit. Matt mowed for Jason when he was incarcerated and helped him with repairs around the house. Matt & Britnee gave Jason furniture when his wife kicked him out and filed for divorce. Matt also tried to be decent to the neighbor who had fallen on hard times. He was aware of Jason's legal problems - thought Jason was trying to make his life better.

Matthew was interviewed by the deputies downtown and continued his claim of innocence. The deputies said they didn't need him to say more as they had enough to hold him and put him into jail. We waited for word and got none. I kept thinking - doesn't he get a phone call? We knew how to call the jail and ask if he had been booked from our years in Dispatch. Otherwise we didn't have a clue. Fortunately we found a patient deputy in the jail who was willing to explain to us Matt was awaiting arraignment and would be charged and put in jail. So much we didn't know or understand. She couldn't get word to Matt about anything for us, but we knew if he learned about the phone system we might get a call. Visiting hours weren't until the weekend. We kept calling the jail the next two days until we learned he'd been arraigned and charged with felony burglary and his bond was $50,000. I was physically ill.

At the point my wonderful sister and husband called to say they would give us $5000 to use - just please get Matthew out of jail. We didn't share our drama with many - but one person I did tell was my supervisor. She had experienced similar difficulties with a family member and gave us great advice. The biggest being - get a lawyer. She explained the Public Defender would get Matt's case as he walked into court and was already overworked and would take a minimal interest in what was going to happen to Matthew. We called around to lawyers in the phone book and found one we felt comfortable with - and agreed to do the job. We told him how much money we had. He took half for the retainer, scolded us for not hiring a lawyer before the arraignment (like we knew) and said our next step was to get a bail reduction at Matt's first hearing - and get him out of jail. This was two weeks away. Progress. Our son would be in jail for two weeks!

Matt was able to call out but we were cut off. After calling the jail we learned there was a toll free number to deposit money and then Matt could call my phone only. We set him up to call me and one more account to call his wife. It broke my heart every time the phone rang and it was the recording from the jail stating an inmate was calling and would I take the call.

We visited Matthew twice in jail. Another experience I'd just as soon forget, but remains a pit in my heart when I think of it. Matthew always tried to smile and make me laugh. He looked so young and naive in the orange jail jumpsuit behind the glass. I looked at some of the other people visiting inmates. I was surprised how many looked normal. Guess I figured everyone would look like degenerates if they had someone in jail. I eavesdropped on a few conversations while waiting my turn with the phone. A lot of bad decisions. So many sad loved ones.

Matthew was learning about jail life quickly and explained the different colored jumpsuits. He didn't do much during the day except read. We quickly found out how to put money in the commissary so he could buy essentials. Right off the top the first $15 went to medical in case he needed treatment, so his $50 didn't go far. He bought a notebook and soft, (jail worthy) bendable pen to draw, Skittles (which turned out to be helpful for adding color to his pictures), toothpaste, soap and deodorant - nearly clearing his balance. We added more money. He learned to buy Hot Pockets to trade for other items. He hoped if he would be in longer he could get reclassified and get a 'job' which would enable him to eat the same food the guards ate. It seemed everything they needed required additional money plus we read each day in jail he would be charged a fee too.

Matt was able to get a long-sleeved shirt to wear under his jumpsuit eventually - which helped with the very cool air conditioned chill - and later someone in their dorm was released or moved and he got a blanket too.

As hard as it was to accept him being there, it was equally difficult to share our story with family. Their response was overwhelmingly supportive, reassuring and heartbreaking all at the same time. We only told a limited number of friends. It was just too difficult to share.

We were able to get his bond lowered at his first court date, which enabled us to add getting bail to our life's experiences. We met a wonderful, sympathetic, very professional young woman who walked us through the process and answered a bazillion more questions. We waited for Matt to return from court on the jail bus and then get processed out - it took hours. Much later that afternoon we brought him home. He looked pale, tired and was very quiet.

The entire ordeal was so frustrating. The 'victims' claim of electronics and money stolen was so vague. The deputies found a CB player and radio (electronics) in the jeep. Originally these items were purchased at a junk yard in Washington state. The CB had been installed in Britnee's old jeep and the radio in one of our old vehicles. They'd been removed and had been sitting in storage until a week prior to all this when Matt took them out to install in the jeep he drove. Matthew had no proof of ownership. No receipts.

Matt's boss wasn't home when they dropped off the work truck and trailer that night because they'd dropped him off across town. He couldn't verify when they arrived to the lot.

The coworker confirmed they'd arrived after 7pm but the witness' statement held a great deal of weight against Matthew's whereabouts. All of the accusations seemed hinky to us. Unfortunately we had no concrete way of proving Matt's innocence. Every thing we tried was a dead end. We were devastated.

We endured several more court dates. More delays. The victim was hiding from the law himself while avoiding jail for not appearing at his own court date. More postponements. Finally in December we went to court again. Prior to our appointed time before the judge, our attorney met with the prosecutor. Matt was offered a plead guilty to misdemeanor trespassing and have one year of unsupervised probation. When his year was over he could file to have the incident removed from his permanent record. If he agreed there wouldn't be an expensive jury trial with Matt needing to prove his innocence. As maddening as it was to say he was guilty of anything, the offer was a blessing. We were afraid of where a jury trial would go. Matt and Brit wanted to move on and end the nightmare.

We shared with one good friend who lives locally and never once asked us how we were doing throughout Matt's time in jail. Not such a good friend after all. We have another who called, texted and emailed daily from the East Coast. She also followed up frequently after Matt was home. Family members were so helpful and caring. I know my former coworkers in Dispatch knew what was going on - it's hard not to when several police units are out on the same address for a call - late on a week night - you check the computer - you read the call - you see the names involved. The car was registered in our names. They knew what was going on. The other indicator - many stopped contacting us via email or Spacebook. Our family was involved in something and we were black listed. I realized then, in Dispatch we saw what started but how often did we hear the outcome.

I was also surprised at the number of people we know who were already well familiar with the legal process and jail. I realized how many years I just assumed only bad parents raised bad kids - and only bad people were put in jail. Gradually I shared with a couple more coworkers and found they knew all too well what I was feeling. All too often it seemed I'd break down in tears in the middle of the day when the fear and anxiety of what might happen to Matthew would get the best of me. It was reassuring to know there was someone there I could reach out to.

It cost us nearly $8000. Money well spent. I will never understand how a drug selling felon's word was able to send our life into a downward spiral. The 'evidence' was removed from our vehicle, as well as Matt's work tools, and have never been returned. It requires the deputy to start the release and a judge to sign off on it. Neither of which we've attempted to do.

We are happy for the resolution. Not pleased with the outcome but blessed with family and friends to help with support and financial aid. Without them I would hate to imagine what might have been. It was a reminder to be grateful for all we've been provided. I'm grateful for my family, my husband and my children. I'm grateful for our good health. Mostly I'm grateful for my son - I'm grateful every time he walks into our home and smiles at me - even when he's pushing my buttons . I'm so grateful he's home with his wife and son - and the rest of us who love him.

One year ago today - I lost faith in our legal justice system. I will never again believe you are 'innocent until proven guilty'.

Short and Sweet...

I had the very best-est weekend with my sister and nephews in town.

Joe had a great school visit at Gonzaga in Spokane. My sister Diana, though she didn't want to admit, was impressed with the school, the staff and area - and felt Gonzaga would be a great fit for Joe's college experience - if that's what he chooses.

They drove the long six hour drive to Boise. I warned them I was sending them the "shorter" route through Yakima and Pendleton. Lots of brown hills and river views between Oregon and Washington.

Friday we headed up to Donnelly/McCall area for lacrosse games at the Brawl in McCall tournament on Saturday.

We were fortunate to rent a 2 bedroom, 2 bath condo through Tamarack Lodge. What a deal. I highly recommend it. There is construction all around because of the financial state of the Tamarack Ski Resort right now but Lodge was complete and well suited for guests. We were able to all stay under one two-story roof, prepare and share our meals together and have some fun at night. It was very comfortable and high-end furnished. The cost was comparable, if not better because we didn't have to eat out, with a hotel in the area.

We treated Diana, Joe and Kevin to a dip at Gold Forks Hot Springs. What a treat after all of their hours on the road the past few days.

Saturday we enjoyed have the games right under the flight path for the McCall Air Show. Not a big deal for most, but for this Naval Aviation family, it's always fun to watch (and hear) the planes overhead.

The lacrosse games went well. They played two on Saturday in the sun and heat. Afterwards we retreated to the Condo where we enjoyed the Lodge's pool and hot tub, as well as a yummy dinner. We even extended our family to a couple of brave players who needed a place to stay and joined us.

Mike and I had to head for home Saturday night so Diana and the boys could catch an early flight Sunday. The kids all stayed on at the Condo and attended the games on Sunday.

The Skallywags, Krieg's team, won all four tournament games as well as the Championship game. Total Domination!

Diana and the boys made it back to Chicago safe and sound. Krieg moved on from his weekend in the McCall area to Moscow and U of I, where he has returned for his final year at school. (You know what that means? We are emptynesters again!)

Thank you Chris and Erin, Matt, Brit and Taten for all sharing your weekend with us too. Happy Birthday Chris. We are very honored you would spend your 25th birthday with our family! Thank you Matt, Brit and Tate too, who came after a long week of work and house-sitting to be with the rest of the family.

Happy Momma!