KØND
 
                                                                           
News Letter -- February 2003
 
 
Greetings from the President
 
Well we're in 2003 and almost one month behind us. I hope everyone had an enjoyable Christmas and New Year and all are doing well.
 
Again this year I have the pleasure of leading the group do to some sneaky policies that were put to use at the January meeting/election night.  I am honored to have been elected again and hope I can do as good a job this year as I did last year.  One thing I have found out is the club doesn't need anybody to run it, it runs itself.  Thanks for all the help and hard work you guys put into everything.
 
This month's remarks are going to be short and sweet.  I hope we have a very enjoyable year again this year and hope everyone stays on the airwaves.  Have fun HAMMING it up!
 
73 Curtis
Theodore Roosevelt Amateur Radio Club
January 6, 2003
TEST SESSIONS 
 
If you are in need of a test session, contact either Bill
Bosch, KØUB or Emil Wieglenda, NØDK. Bill is
associated with ARRL VEC and Emil is W5YI.  They
will let you know when the next test session will be held.
 
Bill 701-483-3869                                Emil 701-483-4953
 
 
 
 
Birthdays for February
 
KBØNCV..............Lee Larsen...................2/04
KBØNXB..............Chris Lohman...............2/06
KB7RGN...............Duane Brockel.............2/08
NØUDG.................Michael Hastings.........2/13
NØDK....................Emil Wieglenda............2/20
KØQQ....................Art Ekblad....................2/28 
 
 
Love That Lasts
By Barbara Seaman
 
   It's six A.M., gray and still.  Thelma Wright, a sparrow-sized woman of seventy-seven, sits on the back step watching the sunrise.  Overhead two purple finches circle.  Thelma is often up before the birds.  Up at midnight to care for her husband, Wilbur, she seldom drops back to sleep.  Instead she scrubs the bathtub or dusts a few shelves.  In the ten years since Wilbur's stroke she's had little time for chores in daylight.
 
   Indoors, there is a bit of sparrow in her movements, the plucky hip hop of arthritic joints.  On the kitchen counter, the coffee machine gurgles.  Thelma peers at it through her thick-lensed glasses.  By instinct more than sight, she navigates the familiar kitchen spaces, cupboard to refrigerator to drawer, mixing Wilbur's strawberry drink, carrying his bran flakes and white-scalloped bowl.
 
   When Thelma enters the front bedroom, the clock on the mantle ticks toward seven.  Her husband's breath puffs in-out, in-out, his eyes closed.
   From an apparent sound sleep, Wilbur says, "I'm awake."
   Thelma smiles.  "I'll get your washcloth and eye drops."
   One-handed, Wilbur rubs the wet warmth over his face.   Since 1961, when his left arm was severed in an industrial accident, Wilbur has done everything one-handed.  Then six months ago, poor circulation reduced his right foot to pain so incessant the leg was amputated.
  "There really isn't much of me left, is there?" he said one day.
  "Hey, buddy," replied Thelma, patting his chest, "the best part is right here."
  Bathing done, Thelma says, "Ready to get up?"
  Wilbur nods.
  With a Hoyer lift, Thelma moves her husband from the bed.
  "One of these days," says Wilbur, "I'm going to get up and give you a ride in this machine."
  Wilbur's eyes follow Thelma the way iron filings follow a magnet.  Thelma pumps the hydraulic lever on the hoist, her husband rises from the bed, then is lowered into the wheelchair.
  Now days Wilbur and Thelma need each other.  She is his movement.  He is her reason for moving.
  "You Okay?"
  "You haven't dumped me yet."
  "No, sir, after thirty-three years I'm not about to dump you."
  In the bathroom, Thelma shaves and grooms her husband.  Together they arrive at the kitchen table in a swirl of scent-hot coffee and cool aftershave.  Wilbur shoves the right wheel lock into place. Thelma locks the left.
  Over bran flakes and milk, Thelma and Wilbur link fingers and pray in unison, "Out Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be they name.  They kingdom come, they will be done..."  Halfway through, tears track down Wilbur's cheeks.
  Two quiet cups of coffee later, he says, "If you'd known all this, how bad it was going to be, maybe you wouldn't have said "I do."
  Thelma looks at him through double-ringed lenses.  "You know something? Just to see your smile and those blue eyes looking at me, it's worth it all.  I wouldn't change any of it, except maybe one thing.  If I could take six months of the year, divide it up with you, I'd take your place and let you switch with me."
 
Linda  KCØADJ