Lives of our own design

Blogger’s note

I’ve always had little interest in family trees. Names on paper don’t spring to life – they don’t tell you what the individuals loved, what they thought, what they did. Looking at old pictures has helped but I still have so many questions. Even though I knew my parents, seeing the old pictures of their youth surprised me – I saw sides of them I never knew. Raised so many questions – but those who could answer those questions are gone now. I want to do better. I want my grandchildren, and their children, to know more about me. So I’ll start to turn this post autobiographical – I’ll start to weave into this story bits and pieces of myself.

There will be a large cast of people in this post. The Mitchell family has always had a feeling of adventure and of action. I feel I have inherited some of these characteristics. My Mitchell cousins – Chuck, Bonnie, Celia, and Jimmy – have always been my heroes. The ones I looked up to, the ones I wanted to follow. We’ll meet them in this post, but their stories aren’t mine to tell. So just be aware as you meet them that I’ve felt honored to follow in their shadows. I’ve blogged about them as I visited their homes on my travels. Sometimes I may link to those posts. I hope you see that we’ve lived distinctly different lives but we’re all linked by the way we’ve each lived lives of our own creation.

Although this might come as a surprise to her – even a shock! – I’ve always been proud of my “little Sister.” Ann too has created a life of her own design. Again, her story isn’t mine to tell. We’ll see a lot of her in this post and I’ll link to my blog posts of my visit to her and Geoff.

I’ll start quietly, but as I finish high school I’ll begin to add to build my autobiography. I’ll begin to tell my grandchildren my story. To leave them the feelings, emotions, thoughts on which I created my own life.

A time before us …

What? My parents had lives before me!? I’d love to sit down with mom and dad and ask about these pictures. What were they doing? Where? When? Why? I suspect they hid some of these pictures from me so that they stood on firmer ground as they tried to tame my wilder impulses!

(Click on any image in the gallery. Once the picture is up, you can view each image by clicking (tapping) on the arrow that appears on the right edge. Click through the image set. Move forward and backward. Then you can click on the small [X] in the upper right corner to return to the blog.)

My firsts …

A time before memory. I was born in Chicago but I remember nothing of my life there. I have only these pictures. Time with our father was relatively rare since he traveled most weeks. Tricycles and playmates in front of the apartment were a frequent story. But I had no inkling of my mother dressing me for riding and being placed on horseback with her. I couldn’t resist adding the picture of mom with Megan over 30 years later.

(Again, click any image in the gallery. Once the picture is up, you can view each image by clicking (tapping) on the arrow that appears on the right edge. Click through the image set. Move forward and backward. Then you can click on the small [X] in the upper right corner to return to the blog.)

Ann’s firsts …

I’m pretty sure Ann also doesn’t remember these days. I’m sure neither of us remember the living room fireplace decorated for Christmas – I do remember the picture above the mantle. Well I don’t remember the picture there, but I know it well since I still have it and have often displayed it in my study (I can’t display it anyplace else because nobody else likes it!) The same with our dog, Rocky. I have no memory of getting her but she was our dog into our high school days and we both loved her dearly.

Hey! Another set of perfect children

I’m not sure I recognize us. I remember the teasing and the fighting. The joining together when parents tried to correct us. My take – don’t believe the pictures. But aren’t we cute?

Expanding the cast of characters

Ned

Ned was our half brother. He lived with his mother perhaps 25 miles away and came to visit a couple of times a year. I have very few pictures of those occasions. His son John gave me the pictures of dad visiting at Ned’s home in 1940 and Ned’s graduation picture. Ned was seven years older than me and I looked up to him – not only was he taller than me, but my first memories of those visits was when he was in high school! Wow! Then he came to my high school graduation – I know because of my haircut in my graduation picture. He visited again while I was a college sophomore and he was a real engineer – dad took me into Chicago to see him working at his desk at the Swift Company. Fond memories – although it shook my opinion that I wanted to be an engineer.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Uncle Scott, Aunt Mary, Chuck, Bonnie, Celia, and Jimmy

Uncle Scott was mom’s younger brother; Aunt Mary was mom’s best friend in college. We visited them often. Many summers we made the trip to their home in Rochester, Michigan. Again, wonderful memories but few pictures. Christmas cards were for sure, but pictures couldn’t do justice to my memories of those visits. We had so much fun climbing Table Top Mountain. I remember going to the model store downtown and buying a car model to assemble on a table in their living room. Each one of the cousins was different and they were all so much fun that I knew I had to be just like them!

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

As we grew

Some time, I really am not sure when, mom and dad bought a house in Glen Ellyn, a suburb about 25 miles west of Chicago. There was a reliable commuter train into the city so dad could get to his downtown office when needed. I know I attended first grade, and probably kindergarten, while living in a funky old home on 3 acres. But just before second grade we moved across town to a nicer house with a wonderful playground directly behind our lot. Heaven. With great schools. That’s where Ann and I would call home.

We walked to elementary school. Walked home for lunch. We were given the freedom to roam – I could be miles away on my bicycle and that was OK as long as I was home for dinner when the six o’clock siren at the firehouse blew. I was home for Ann’s high school graduation.

Their futures

Ann and Geoff

Ann and Geoff have lived large. Hiking, backpacking, kayaking, skiing, bicycling! Plus work. Ann got her law degree, then discovered she preferred being an environmental educator. They now live on Salt Spring Island near Victoria, Canada.

• 

• 

• 

• 

I’ve visited and blogged about their lives earlier.

https://www.fbarrywheeler.net/visiting-ann-and-geoff/

Ned

Unfortunately both Ned and his wife Gerri have passed. But their son John and his family are doing wonderful things.

• 

• 

• 

The Mitchells

Such a wonderful family. Such incredible lives. So many stories.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

https://www.fbarrywheeler.net/some-details-of-life-in-the-sandhills/

https://www.fbarrywheeler.net/visiting-family/

My own story begins

I’ll mark high school as the beginning of my own story. I began to create my own life. I also learned two basic principles that I’ve applied throughout my life. The first I learned in sports. I was an OK wrestler on an OK wrestling team. I was a fairly decent runner on a superb cross country team. It was on the cross country team that I learned that I did my best when I was with people who were better than me. If I wanted to do well, I wanted to be with the best. They pulled me up if I was willing to find a way to contribute.

• 

• 

• 

My academics centered on math and science. From getting my amateur radio license to creating a senior year science project I learned that friends and mentors we keys to my success. Friends pulled me through Latin and calculus. Wheaton College students lead me through their library to the resources I needed. They introduced me to a professor who took me to Argonne National Labs and sponsored my work in nuclear magnetic resonance spectroscopy. This project earned me a full scholarship to Cornell. Friends and mentors helped me create my life.

• 

• 

• 

But at Cornell I hit a road block. I had excellent grades. Except in French. The Language Department said I was incapable of learning the spoken language in their program. So with almost no money, I bought a one-way ticket to England and took my time getting to Paris. The map shows my travels – but I focused enough to learn enough French to pass my exams. My haircut at Cornell; the beginnings of my beard after trimming at a French barber school haircut. The trip changed me. It gave me the confidence to continue creating my own life. Broke, I ended up at Indiana University. Student politics, a year in fine arts photography. And marriage.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Next: Annie, Jake, and Rachel – I want you to meet your grandmother.