A BOY WITH YELLOW HAIR

I was sitting at a computer at the library yesterday morning.

I heard just to my left...the sound of someone falling down.

I looked around and saw a man on the floor stretched out saying,

"I am hot..." 

I recognized him as one who often sits by me on the fifteen minute

computer...he never looks my way. But I noticed him...because he

appeared to be homeless..a man of undetermined age...with dirty,

wrinkled clothes and unwashed, matted hair. I was thinking his

corn colored hair would be beautiful if shampooed!!

My heart went out to his situation.

 And as I saw him lying on the floor waiting for an

ambulance to come, I thought, "He was once some mother's  yellow

headed little boy."

She probably had loudly called him in for supper, when 

 he was playing too far down the street...she probably read to

him before bedtime and kissed him goodnight.

What could have caused his situation?  I don't know, of course.

The ambulance drivers took him away...but for me he doesn't go 

away...I care...and don't think we should forget people like
 
and say, "They oughta get a job!!"

Although I am conservative politically, nevertheless I am all for

helping  those in need...in honor of and in memory of....

their mothers. And mostly because Jesus showed us the way.

Just sayin' with love, annie in memphis

NORWAY ANNIE'S WAY 2011 (ROCKING CHAIR ANNIE)

        


I will not begin at the beginning in Memphis...but will jump to the waiting room of the O'Hare in Chicago ... where I met two delightful ladies from South Dakota, who will be so important to my having such a good time. 
                              O'Hare airport, Chicago


 I felt justified in people watching, since there was a six hour wait for the plane to London. 

The two most interesting people were two women traveling together. 
The younger one in her mid fifties had on a sport jacket with SOUTH DAKOTA on the back. 

She seemed to be in a losing argument with someone on the phone.
                            Asta: fac simile 56 years old.

"Nicklas, please don't be upset with us...we will be in Stavanger soon but want to stop in Oslo first, but..but...but"...

The older lady (mid sixties...but still younger than me) reached for the phone and said, "Asta, dear, please hand me the phone!" 

...."Nicklas, this is your Aunt Eve speaking; this is the way it is going to be. We will spend a couple of days in Oslo and then will come to be with you in Stavanger. I have spoken. We love you!
GOODBYE."

                       Eve: fac simile 65 retired teacher

Then not looking at all embarrassed that I was staring at them, they introduced themselves and shared the sandwiches they had brought from home in South Dakota. I gradually learned that Nicklas' parents were killed in an auto crash; his mother was the sister of Asta and Eve.

 So Nicklas made his home with Eve as he grew up; .then he went away to college to study engineering..

Now he has a very well paying job with an oil company in

 Stavanger, Norway.  


Eve and Asta were hurt that he wouldn't settle down in S.

Dakota.

He would not move back home; he loved his job in 

Norway and had been begging them for several years to

 spend a year with him.

Now that Eve had retired they had no excuse!!

Keep in mind that we talked for six hours at O'Hare...so I 

won't spend 6 hours telling you what we said; but here is 

little about them. Although 100% American, they are of 

Norwegian descent. 

Their grandparents (maternal and paternal) came to 

South Dakota from 

Norway  to make a home in the US.

Eve just retired from teaching school. Asta is a 

well-to-do widow who is very involved in volunteer work 

with kids.  We talked until our jaws ached then....







We slept until the plane arrived in London..

                                  



then only two  more hours to Oslo!!
 

 The nephew, Nicklas, had already reserved a suite in the 

Grand Hotel for his aunts.                       
 
 President Obama stayed in this hotel when he was in Oslo for the Nobel Award, The sisters are both Democrats and their nephew knew they would be excited about staying here.






 Because we clicked so well,  they asked, then begged, then insisted, then demanded  I share a suite with them in Oslo; since I was going there too. I gleefully agreed, because I was feeling lonely already.

 Nicklas was paying ALL their expenses, & little did they know that MONOPOLY MONEY was paying all of mine. We would stay at the best hotel, eat the best food...have a ball!! 

This has been a long day...will tell you about being in Oslo tomorrow. This trip is going to be great; I am so lucky to have these wonderful ladies as companions. 

....goodnight from Oslo...love, annie

...this has been revised from the original which was too long and rambling..You say this is still too long and rambling.????.ab

IN THE ESTANCIA KITHCEN WITH JOSE GONZALES learning more about THE TREASURE

After we agreed to spend the next day together with Jose, 

we were reluctant to leave the kitchen. We were curious about the evening dinner Jose would prepare..We asked if we could watch and hand him..like uh..stuff. He seemed glad for the company. This is a special stew:


er.


The ingredients were on the counter: dried apricots, sweet potatoes, onion, garlic, squash, tomatoes, corn and chunks of beef. Because the beef is so tender the cooking time is only an hour...and then it sits till supper for the ingredients to mesh. It smelled heavenly.

Jose reached into a drawer in the kichen and pulled out a postcard.   On one side was Pepe Gonzales, his address,etc. and the other side was totally blank.  Mario was the ONLY ONE who called him Pepe. All his mail always went to Jose Gonzales. Jose told us only a little about the dirty war; he said he will tell us more tomorrow.  He believed Mario sent that card to let Jose know he was alive.

We went to bed early...tired and anxious about tomorrow.
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When morning came,  Jose invited us to his small room to show us a framed 8X10  picture of Mario. It was the only picture hanging in his room.

 "Mario gave this to me. Only one copy." he said proudly.  

We were amazed  seeing him standing on the horse like that...so handsome, so brave.

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The tourists left early for an all day outing and Juan and his wife left on errands.

Jose, Carmine, Beanie and I walked for awhile enjoying the landscape and talking and getting acquainted.  
We mostly enjoyed the porch.In every direction you can litis gorgeous!v
   Carmine told Pepe what Mario was like when we were all nineteen and good friends. She said that although her late husband was the love of her life, she had begun to feel so old lately. She remembered the young sweetheart of her youth and felt she should find him, and if he was still alive have a little visit or even just a cup of coffee..and slip back into her youth a little while. "Annie and Beanie don't understand. But they have been steadfast in helping me search for this treasure."

"I guess that sounds silly to you, Pepe."

"Of course not, Senora Carmine. I understand completely," Jose said kindly.

"Tell us more about the last time you saw Mario," I said.

He responded, "I'm almost sorry you asked. It was a nightmare. Argentina was a scary place during some of the 70s and 80s. The government and militia brutally arrested anyone they wanted to. One day police came to our estancia and arrested two of Mario's friends and were trying to take them away, when Mario tried to fight them off unsuccessfully. I saw this with my own eyes and was there a week later when they came for Mario and took him away blindfolded. I never saw or heard from my idol again...unless that postcard really was from Mario."

Trying to change the subject to something less heartbreaking I asked Jose to tell us about Mario's happy life on the estancia. 

Relieved to move to something lighter Jose said, "Everyone loved and admired him... SO handsome, so friendly. He could rope cattle, ride horseback, do any ranch hand work needed better than anyone else."

We wondered why he never came back to the states.

 "His parents in Buenos Aires were in bad health and needed him near. After they died, he once said he would like to visit the states again, but he had heard his sweetheart there had gotten married.(carmine looked down)..and also, LAS PAMPAS and the gaucho life get in your blood. I had also wanted to be a gaucho, but didn't have the physical stamina.. But this land is in my blood just as it was with Mario."

 At lunch time we persuaded him to have leftover stew for the four of us. It was even better than the night before.The only thing added was a green crisp salad.


v  vv
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Everyone returned in time for dinner. Afterwards we pitched in with the dishes; then we all ate homemade (Pepemade) cookies. 

w
We asked Juan if we could use his computer a little while. "Of course," he answered. 

 We know so little about Argentine  history in general and nothing about the "dirty war" Pepe had told us about.

             DURING a dictatorship, thousands of people
      like Mario disappeared. 

      There were 300 places where people were 

      detained...and 

           ROSARIO was one of them!!!



ROSARIO WAS ONE OF THOSE PLACES!!  Was that post
card a hint as  Jose supposed?
So last night we were wondering if we should go to Rosario. How would we get there? Where would we look when we did get there?

When we KNOW more, we'll tell YOU more. 
IT IS FRIDAY...AND A NEW DAY...

Love, Carmine, Beanie, annie, and Pepe too!!

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TREASURE HUNT: PART TWO, EPISODE ONE..Entering another world ESTANCIA PERES!

SO WE MOVE INTO A DIFFERENT WORLD!!
                                 
Our Memphis Personal Assistant (Ben) was faxed a copy of the post card the Mendoza family had of the Peres Estancia, the last place the treasure was known to have worked.
                    bigger than it looks!


 Ben had a nice conversation by phone with Juan Peres, owner of Estancia Peres.  Ben learned it is no longer exclusively a cattle ranch the way it was when Mario worked there; now it also is a dude ranch and can accommodate up to ten people. Ben registered us and paid everything in advance (of course!) Ben also arranged with the hotel Avear that their shuttle would take us the 80 miles over there. Our MPA is the best!!
*************************************************** 

Before we left we called the Mendozas to say goodbye and to remind them we would love to pay all their expenses if they can ever come to Memphis. We said goodbye to the hotel staff and tipped extravagantly...and why  not? As you know, I've GOT the money!!

***********************************************

Buenos Aires is considered to be the Paris of South America...now we are in an entirely different looking world...
reminds me of New Mexico.

              

.
v

We were almost there.

As Carmine looked out the shuttle window at gauchos tending cattle,

 she sighed.
                             

 "I can see this was the perfect

life for Mario .....to be out in the open spaces." 

Beanie added, "Yes, and he was just a few hours away from his family in

BUENOS AIRES."

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.

We arrived!!  It started raining and the lights were on.

             

Only 4 tourists were there; they were eating lunch, when

we entered. It was like a home. No reception desk. The owner

and his wife were at the table with the tourists. We were invited to join

them for lunch; but we had already had a deluxe  brunch at the hotel 

before we left.

                            

Juan Peres came over and introduced himself and greeted us in beautiful

 English, saying he had been looking fwd to our arrival. 

He said our MPA told him we have an interesting reason for being 

here...?"something about someone who once worked here."

We said, "Yes, we are looking for information about Mario z Mendoza."



"Was he a gaucho?" he asked. "I don't recognize the name.  He must

have worked for my late father. We have a scrap book on the coffee table

with many pictures of gauchos who have worked here, but no names 

unfortunately. The tourists just enjoy seeing the pictures"

We started flipping through the pages...late 70's and early 80's.

  

c               v The MENDOZAS H    
 

When we last saw Mario we all were so young..nineteen.

It is only natural he would have changed a lot.

Juan Peres left his other guests for a moment and returned 

to us, seeing our disappointment. 

'I have an idea...

I am thinking our wonderful cook, Jose Gonzales just might 

have known him...Jose has lived on this ranch all his life. Go

 on back to the kitchen and talk with him. He speaks 

English."  

so we did go back into  the kitchen and found a 

handsome man in his early sixties standing at the sink.

                                 

We introduced ourselves and hopefully asked if he had ever 

heard of Mario z. Mendoza. He smiled warmly.


"Of course I remember Mario. He was one of my heroes, my

idol.  He was about 20 years older than me. He treated me 

like a son...taught me English...He told me about Memphis,

Korea and other far away places, I would never see.


 I must start the dinner meal now.

Tomorrow the tourists will be out on an excursion and my

work will be light....if you 

like we can spend the day together and I will tell you all

I can remember. "



We asked if we could just hang around the 

kitchen and watch him cook...but will tell you about that 

tomorrow.



Now  we will stop....and tell you more tomorrow.   Can't EXPRESS how thrilled 

we are to spend time with this man who actually knew Mario.   The 

relatives at the picnic mostly knew ABOUT him from stories they had 

head.  to bed...to bed....fac simile


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love from, a very tired carmine, beanie and annie.   

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

vv