games for kids from one to ninety-two

It's not that I love puzzles, but putting about ten pieces of a 1000-piece puzzle at Christmas--yelling BINGO each time one fits--is not something I want to go without. It is one of those traditions that I'm glad has remained in the family, despite most of us being (outwardly) less than enthusiastic about pulling out the card table and opening the puzzle box every year. My dad is the puzzle-meister, and I don't know if it's the BINGO that he likes the most or just making sure we have a low-stress excuse to sit together for a few minutes at Christmas, but he hasn't given up yet. And aren't we glad?

I think the puzzles started in American Fork; I was probably about 10. We even pasted "my" puzzle onto cardboard one year, framed it and hung it in my room for the next 8 years. (It was a sea turtle scene.) I'm pretty sure my dad intended each kid to get one pasted and framed, but the messy glue and the...moderate enthusiasm for puzzles assisted that part of the tradition to end. And that's ok. The puzzles have persevered and will continue to. Even Andy participated this year, even though he was home in Logan and the padres have moved to Las Cruces, by sending this scene of Provo, Utah. I think this gift sort of emphasizes the family support of the puzzles; we'd all like to be involved, and if it's from a distance, even better.

A looser tradition surrounds Tripoley in the Peterson clan. It's not technically a holiday tradition, but it is a game that it is tradition to play as a family once or twice (or thrice) a year--passed down through the generations. My first time playing was Thanksgiving 2008 with Nate's Peterson Grandpa. We can't play it every Sunday like Pictionary or Catch Phrase because it would lose its magic. It is a production of sorts; sorting and counting the chips, getting out the board, refreshing our knowledge of the hierarchy of poker hands, getting out the board. We have to play long enough to make it all worthwhile, and also there's the pretend gambling. These once- or twice-yearly games often occur near the holidays because we gather around the table after we eat, and playing Tripoley prevents us from staring dumbly at the ceiling or having to rely on intelligent conversation.

Some people call it Michigan Rummy, which I think is the name Grammy's mother (Grandma Christa) used for it. Grandma Christa was an earnest Tripoley player. She hand-painted a big wooden board (as opposed to the felt or plastic boards we usually use) with a big pretty cat in the "kitty" space. That is Nate's Clark/Christensen side, and his Peterson side also had a big player too, in Grandma Hazel. If you know me, you know those great-grandmotherly traditions are hard to resist so I bring up the game at every few family gatherings to make sure we all carry it on.

Some lesser-talked about family Vets

-Since Nate and I both have Mayflower ancestors, we probably have some Revolutionary War soldiers in our families, but neither of us know about that. One more thing to look into!

-My Grandpa Stricklan's grandpa William and his brother fought on opposite sides of the Civil War. William was in Indiana by then, so he fought for the Union.

-My Grandpa Stricklan's uncle Frank was in the Air Force in WWI.

-My Grandpa Paul Stricklan was requested to stay in Idaho and keep his sheep and milk route during WWII to help with the food shortage.

-Nate's grandpa fought in WWII and Korea. His brother Gene also fought in WWII.

-My mom was born on Tinker Air Force Base in Oklahoma but I can't be sure why. (For someone interested in family history I sure know next to nothing, right?)

-Nate's cousin Ryan was a Marine in the early 2000's. He served at least two tours in the Middle East.

And here are some rather random soldier photos that my Grandma Stricklan kept in her family albums:

Paul's cousin Lester Miller born 1918

Virginia and Bill Palmer

Some Clark Veterans

There are many veterans of the US armed forces in Nate's and my families. Since Veteran's Day is on Tuesday, here are a few of them.

Nate's grandpa, Ralph Clark, grew up in a white house on Main Street in Smithfield. His older brother Gene joined the Army during WWII while Ralph was still in high school. Ralph joined the Navy at age 17, and served as a petty officer on the USS Rowan in the Pacific. Nate can remember Grampsie talking about watching the ocean from the ship. He even has a soldier coming home Christmas story! For the family's 2005 Christmas card, Grampsie wrote the story of his 1944 Christmas homecoming, which is transcribed HERE.

"Our Sailor Boy Ralph Age 18 years"

For a few years before Ralph was old enough to join up, Gene had been in the Army. According to the memory of two great-nephews (Nate and his brother Justin), Gene served in Italy, and "something about tanks." There is a poster in the Smithfield History Museum of all of the town's WWII soldiers which shows both Ralph and Gene's pictures. Both Clark boys were fortunate to come home safely when the war ended.

Ralph, dad Carl Clark, Gene

After the war Ralph was in the ROTC at USU and in 1951 went to Korea as a forward observer. He became a first lieutenant in combat. He spent a few years there, and he has recorded a Story Corps broadcast for Utah Public Radio about one of his more life-threatening experiences. He was awarded the Silver Star, the Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Air Medal with two bronze oak leaf clusters.

1952 1st Lt. RT in Korea

1951 Lt. RT Clark, pilot Lt. Downer

I know Nate is really proud of his grandpa and his time spent serving his country.

The Park - two families

Yet another post inspired by Hannah's book: in 1921 the Anderson family went to "The Park." I realized after I read a couple of paragraphs that Hannah meant Yellowstone National Park, which was of course the first National Park in the US. The Park I personally love and visit the most is Zion in Southern Utah, which itself opened in the spring of 1920. When we go, I look at the old photos there and I get a really heavy chest pain-slash-good feeling; I just want to have been there back then so badly! And here my family was in the other Park, right around that time.

Photo (and two images below) by noted Yellowstone photographer F. Jay Haynes. More can be seen here.

The park had fairly recently allowed cars to begin driving through, so the Andersons packed up a car (I wish I knew what kind) and drove from Shelley to Rexburg to pick up "Melvin" and his family. (Melvin is one of Hannah's sons.) Hannah said they had been talking about making the trip for a long time, but they never seemed to have the time or money. Sounds familiar? So they just decided to go anyway in July of 1921.

Their car needed repair in Rexburg, and in 1921 I don't suppose there were many car mechanics to choose from, but they got one and left the next morning. They drove the 58 miles to Mack's Inn in Island Park where they stopped and rested and ate lunch, loving the beautiful scenery of Island Park (which is initially the Park I thought Hannah was referring to anyway). Melvin brought a camera and stopped to take some "snaps shots" at the stop and throughout the park, but I don't have those photos.

The family camped and fished and had a wonderful time. They saw the Paint Pots, the geysers, bears and buffalo herds. Hannah raves about the Old Faithful Inn and sadly mentions some out-of-business hotels that were suddenly unnecessary when cars began driving through the park. I was struck how even then, nearly a hundred years ago and at the peak time of my nostalgia, they had nostalgia for the simpler, un-automoblied past.

On their way home they came through Harriman State Park in Island Park (Idaho), which is a place we stayed as a (Stricklan) family a couple of years ago. I loved it there. Here is one of the 2012 Harriman Sunsets.

TEN YEARS AFTER the Andersons, the Clarks went to Yellowstone.

Nate's grandpa Ralph Clark would have been 5 or 6 when his family went to Yellowstone in 1931. Whereas we don't have my family's photos, we don't have stories from Grampsie. He may remember the trip (he is 88 now, I think), but it isn't likely that he can recall the details. He might, however remember that BEAR! (Since his stroke five years ago, he has had a hard time recounting the stories he does wish to tell anyway, which is really unfortunate for us. I will write more of his stories in the future, of course, with Nate's help.)

Nate and I haven't yet been to "The Park" with our kids. This makes me want to go now!