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June 25th, 2014

6/25/2014

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About 50 years ago I was “invited” by the Army and the Indiana National Guard to participate in some basic training exercises at Fort Knox, Ky. Transportation was even provided from Indianapolis to there.
I was told it would be an eight-week course and that I would be provided all the necessary clothing and equipment. We began our training during a hot spell and were housed in the older and two-story wooden barracks from World War II. These buildings were not air-conditioned, but I was fortunate to be located on the lower level and in a bottom bunk. The buildings did have windows, but I don’t remember any of them ever being open.

Some days our training had to be altered because of the heat. At the conclusion of our eight weeks (it seemed like seven months) of training, we graduated. I was a member of Basic Training Company C-14-4. (The 4th’s finest ... Every man’s a tiger … ROOOAAARRRR. On command, the entire company was required to yell that in unison.)

 After graduation we were given two weeks of leave time before having to report for advanced training. I scampered home and soaked up air conditioning wherever I could. 

My next training was at Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland. Because I was going to return home after this program to continue my drills with the Indiana Guard, I was allowed to drive my car there.

I started my trip a day early so I could visit my Aunt Tess and Cousin Sonny in Pittsburgh. I spent the night and was off quickly the next morning to learn all about the fuel and electrical systems on military ground vehicles. 

Our barracks were much newer and cooler, and we had quite a bit of study time, which kept us busy during the weekday evenings. Once it was known that I had a 1962 Ford convertible, I became popular. 
This part of my training was to take about 15 weeks, and it was before cellphones and computers. Writing and mailing letters was the most inexpensive way to communicate with family and loved ones. I knew my folks were planning a trip over to the Aberdeen area, but I wasn’t certain when they might arrive.
One evening a few of us decided to go get something different (good) to eat. I was driving south on the highway that would take us to Baltimore if we decided to venture that far when a big white Oldsmobile pulling a travel trailer moved past me on the inside lane of traffic.
I eased up beside it and calmly told my buddies that we were driving beside my parents, my sister and one of her girlfriends. No one in Mom and Dad’s car had noticed us. The guys all laughed and were yelling “Yeaaa right!” when I honked my horn and waved.
Soon, we were all waving frantically. We then found a place to pull over so the fun could begin.
That was an amazing six-month period in my life. 

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June 18th, 2014

6/18/2014

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One of the greatest ongoing rewards of being employed by a school system is reconnecting with students years after you had known them as such. 

I looked back over the time that I have been writing these columns – with the help of Stuart, my therapy dog – and found I have shared stories of this kind. Marcia Gunnion, Amber Atherton, Alicia Taylor, Rachele and Myranda Tryon, Brooke Pate, Shelby Wright, Abby and Chelsea Storms and Stacy Whyde are but of a few of the people I first knew as bus riders. Each of these former students has enriched my life more than I could ever say.


Abby and Chelsea Storms celebrated their 21st birthdays last week, and if I know them ... that party is probably ongoing. I remember that their 13th birthday celebration went on for a couple of weeks. 
I noticed on my Facebook account that another of my former riders also had a birthday last week. A couple of times later in the week I told some friends a story about this former rider.


A few years ago I received a Facebook message from someone whose name I didn’t recognize. She introduced herself and mentioned that she might have ridden on my dad’s school bus. I asked her what part of Perry Township she had lived in, to which she responded Rosedale Hills.


I smiled and answered by saying that she hadn’t ridden with my father but with me on Bus No. 34, which I drove to and from Edgewood Grade School. I didn’t think I had convinced her so I offered up a few names of students who I remembered from that route. After reading the names Denise and David Morris and Janie Schultz, she was a believer. She responded with a few names, and we were soon typing “LOL” about every 20 seconds.


I later read her complete Facebook page and discovered that she was an attorney for Johnson County. Her name is Kathleen Hash; I was reconnecting with the former Kathleen Shaul.


I started watching and enjoying her posts. She loves animals, and I discovered a while back that she and Stuart were Facebook friends.


Several months after our initial Facebook connection, I had to drive to Camp Atterbury for a meeting. As I returned home, I took a chance and detoured into Downtown Franklin. I found the building that housed the Johnson County attorney and walked in.
I presented a Southsider Voice business card to the receptionist and asked if it might be possible to talk with Kathleen Hash.


As the receptionist disappeared into an office, I heard some muffled discussion and then a louder noise of excitement. Kathleen came out smiling and laughing.

 
We talked for a long time in her office and had a wonderful visit. She is a special lady. Stuart and I feel honored to be her Facebook friends.

 
We hope she had a wonderful birthday, Abby and Chelsea, too!

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June 11th, 2014

6/11/2014

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The weekend of Southport High School’s graduation was eventful for our family, but not all was rosy.
On the pleasant side, our youngest grandson, Trey Young, graduated, and a party was held at our house. He and his older brother, Trevor, are in a band, and they performed in our backyard. My small outbuilding –known as “the hideout” – was a refuge for older adults to enjoy quiet conversations and air conditioning. Everyone enjoyed the food and had a lot of fun.


On the not-so-pleasant side, Joe Saunders, the brother of my wife, Lyn, was involved in a terrible crash while test riding a motorcycle. He was wearing a helmet, which probably saved his life. Joe was transported to Methodist Hospital from New Whiteland via Lifeline, and he is improving every day. Man, did he lose a lot of skin, But still, he was lucky.


Lyn and I also had several other incidents that wiggled their way into that busy weekend. It seemed like that we just waved and smiled at each other for a few days while passing each other on the road, driveway or a room in the house.


All of those activities drove our therapy dog, Stuart, a bit crazy. He enjoys his daily routine and doesn’t care for any interruptions in his schedule. He seemed a bit bumfuzzled while preparations were being made in the days leading up to the graduation party.


He quickly went from puzzlement to elation when the festivities started and food was set up outside. Under normal conditions, Stuart doesn’t partake of people food. That is part of his training. He does get real excited, though, when his friends at the nursing homes we visit have dog treats for him. 
He had full understanding that with lots of people eating at the party, he would be able to con some of them out of a bite from time to time. Once he figured out what was going on, he was happy. We noticed that when the band was playing, he would scamper to the hideout and beg to enter. We figured out that he wasn’t a big fan of drums.


A few days later I called Methodist to inquire what would be involved to bring Stuart to visit his “Uncle” Joe. I found that the rules that apply to our nursing home visits would pertain at the hospital. I picked an afternoon that Stuart and I didn’t have any other commitments. I could tell from his alertness during the ride that he knew something was up, and I started thinking about any new experiences that he might encounter.


The only thing that I could come up with was riding in an elevator. We arrived at the parking garage and had to take the elevator down to the main level. The back wall of the elevator was glass, and we looked outside while descending. I wish I could have videotaped Stuart’s look of shock. 


We rode another elevator up to the fifth floor and had a nice visit with Stuart’s Uncle Joe and “Aunt” Jeannie after meeting half the floor’s staff. 


The elevator rides that took us back to our car didn’t bother him nearly as much. He slept all the way home. 
I’m thinking that Stuart was able to scratch riding an elevator off of his “bucket list.”

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June 04th, 2014

6/4/2014

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It seems to me that I spend quite a bit of time telling and retelling stories about Stuart, my therapy dog, and how much he enjoys his many daily routines. He likes it when my wife, Lyn, and I keep him on a regular schedule with all of his activities.

We often think that specific events tip him off to what time and day it is. This is mostly visible when food is involved or an impending visit to a school or nursing home. He seems to get a bit agitated when something alters his customary practices.

Last Friday morning as I was en route to Beech Grove to coach a team of school bus drivers, I remembered how my Fridays unfolded several years ago. At that time I drove Bus No. 5 (Ursula). Except for Fridays, my weekly mornings didn’t vary.

On Fridays I left home somewhat earlier and usually stopped at the McDonald’s on Emerson Avenue for breakfast, where I picked up a copy of the two Southside weekly newspapers and checked them out. This was a few years before I started writing a column for The Southsider Voice.

I enjoyed reading Voice articles and weekly columns. Big Dan Pfeiffer’s “Car Nutz” was always one of the first ones that I read. Scott Mohr’s “Reminiscing” would take me back 60 years to some of the events of that week. “The Bookman,” by Don Fogleman, always had an interesting perspective on life, and Kelly Sawyers used “Kelly’s Korner” to report on fun happenings.

There was a columnist in the other weekly paper who was also high on my list of favorites ... and I would generally save Sherri Coner’s weekly offering for last. I needed to have my food eaten and had to make certain that I was not drinking coffee as I started reading. She could cause me to begin laughing almost uncontrollably in just explaining the things that could happen to her while filing a fingernail. It was amazing how many hilarious things could invade her life each week. Sherri discussed everything from her daily activities to stories about her kittens and puppies. 

A short time after I became a columnist, I met Sherri, and I wasn’t surprised to find that talking with her was exactly like reading her articles. Over the past few years I have heard gals describe some of their friends and/or themselves as a “hot mess.” I was fairly certain that that term was used to describe Sherri many times.

She moved to Florida a few months later, and I have missed her stories. I’m sure moving was difficult for her, but I think she has settled well in the Sunshine State as she continues to write articles and blogs, and she has penned a few novels. I can keep up with her on Facebook and on her website, http//sherriconer.com. 





She has become a good friend, and I hope she gets back to Indiana for a visit soon. 
Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools. He is married to Lyn Shonk.
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    Picture

    Fred Shonk

    Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools. 

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