George Broschinsky

July 21, 2009

We should be having fun as we are writing about our lives. What has happened in our lives that was fun. What have I ever done that was fun?

I remember going to Grandma B’s for Thanksgiving dinner. We would eat and eat and then eat some more. The turkey stuffing was great. After dinner Dad or one of the uncles would put the kids in the car and take us to the Lyric Theater on State Street in Salt Lake (or sometimes to the Arcade on 8th West). We would watch a movie. The men would listen to the University of Utah playing the Utah State Aggies in an annual football game. This was pre-television so they were all gathered around the radio. The ladies were in the kitchen cleaning up.

When the game was over, we were picked up at the theater and we all went back to Grandma’s for pie with real whipping cream. The Pumpkin Pie was great but I was happy to take a pass on the Mince Meat Pie. After the pie we would play games or simply visit on into the evening.

When it was time to go home our family would climb into our 1940 Dodge Sedan, drive up Main Street  and back down State Street. Thanksgiving evening was when the city turned on the Christmas lights. For us this was the beginning of the Holiday Season.

When this tour was completed Dad would turn the car in the direction of home. The kids would wrap up in quilts on the back seat (the heater wasn’t all that great) and we were on our way. Another Thanksgiving was over.

Look for a fun experience in your life. Enjoy it again and share it with those around you. Write it down for future reference. Let others enjoy it also.

Try to find at least three enjoyable moments. You might laugh a bit or at least smile.

Happy journaling!

George Broschinsky

July 10, 2009

 

Flannery O’Connor is reputed to have said that anyone who has lived through childhood has enough material to write for a lifetime.

 

Sometimes these stories are about us, sometimes about family members (maybe we weren’t even there) and sometimes about friends and acquaintances. In my last posting I mentioned my youngest brother, Tom. Years ago he and another brother, Dan, went with my parents to New Orleans. Mom had always been active in PTA and that year the PTA National Convention was being held in New Orleans. Dad suggested they make it a family vacation and so they “hit the road.”

 

One evening they decided to join the crowds strolling down Bourbon Street. Being jostled along in the crowds they were approached by Hawkers inviting them into any of several different bars. One of the men said, “Our show is recommended by Better Homes and Gardens and the National PTA.” Tom slipped around the man and looked inside where he saw a scantily clad female dancing on the bar. Surprised, he quickly went back to our parents and said, “Mom, that doesn’t look like a PTA meeting to me!”

 

Well, that’s maybe a kind of funny story (at least to me) but it also says something about our family. We’ve been involved for years in education (not in dancing). Perhaps a grandson or granddaughter might find it interesting that their family had been interested in education over the years, even to spending money and time to visit a national PTA convention.

 

Maybe it also explains the collections of books in our homes.

 

What stories can you catch? Find one. Does that remind you of something else and perhaps something else and perhaps still something else.  Work with them and see what you can come up with.

 

Good journaling!

George Broschinsky

 

July 8, 2009

 

Last evening I had an interesting experience. A gentleman came into our office. He looked at me, then looked again. “What is your last name?” he asked.  “Broschinsky” was my reply. His response was, “You must be Tom’s brother!”

He was right. I was the first born of five children and Tom was the baby.

The first thing Mother reportedly said when they brought the newborn Tom in was, “He looks just like George!”

We inherit a lot from  our families. Genetically we may get body shape, size, coloring and perhaps certain predispositions to specific strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes the shape (and size) of our nose or ears might work their way through modifications coming from wives and husbands marrying into the families.

When we see a new baby we often recognize in the same child characteristics from whichever side of the family we happen to know.

I ran across this interesting quote on page 30 of the July 2009 Family Tree Magazine:

I found a picture of my cousin Dimmick Edwards from a line that split off back around 1800. Pierre Louis says. “He looks almost exactly like my brother does today. Those are some strong genes.”

Perhaps equally often we inherit not only genetically but also environmentally certain traits. We might love sports or reading. We learn to work with our hands because our Dad did. We love reading because our parents would read to us at night or there were shelves and shelves of books around.

I read these two questions recently:

1. Who am I?, and

2. Why does it matter?

Perhaps in thinking about our heritage, both genetic and others, we might try  to define ourselves with these follow-up questions.

1. What is the inherited  characteristic which pleases me most, and why?

2. If I could pick one thing to thank my progenitors for what would it be and why?

What would we like to pass on to our descendants?

 

Give it some thought

 

Happy Journaling!

George Broschinsky

December 13, 2008

We come from varied backgrounds. We have different habits. Our talents are different.There is one thing about us that is the same. We all have histories.

Some of these are dramatic, some are not. They are all interesting, however, to our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. “Grandma, tell me about when you were a little girl.”

One of the things that might be interesting is to pick a date, any date and pull it up on a computer, or maybe check it at the library. Where were you on that date? How old were you? What were you doing? Where were you when some significant event occurred? What happened the day you were born?

While working on this article I began to think about my birth. It happened on December 6, 1937. December is snow time in Salt Lake City. The hospital where I was born was on a hill. Did my young father (23 years old at the time) drive through snow to get Mom to the hospital? Were the roads slick? Was my young future mother nervous? She was probably concerned about the birth of her first child. Did she even think about the roads? Checking the National Weather Service records indicate that the first snow didn’t come until about two weeks later. Lucky Dad.

Then I thought about the experience of Myrna and myself with our first born. We were at her Mother’s home in Bountiful when she said “I think it is time to go!” We got in the car and headed for the hospital. As we were driving through the residential area she said, “George, are you nervous? My reply was, “No, why?” She then said, “Well, you’re driving 80 miles an hour!”

The idea: pick a date and work with it.

Good journaling.

P.S. Share an idea with us. We would love to hear from you.

George Broschinsky

December 1, 2008

Sometimes it’s a stretch to find something to write about in your SecureJournal. We look for little tricks, ideas or prompts to get us going. Once we get started it’s possible to move on.

One tool I find interesting is the “Six Word Memoir.” Try to condense your life, this month ,or just an experience into six words. This can pack a real punch!

Our phrases might reflect happiness or disappointment, satisfaction or dissatisfaction, health or illness.

Attributed to Ernest Hemingway is the following: “For sale, baby shoes, never worn”. Or maybe this one in the “For Sale” section of the classifieds: “Wedding Dress, worn once by mistake. These phrases may stir up all sorts of memories and feelings that will lead us to other memories. Let me illustrate: I was backing my car out of the carport when my two year old grandson came to the door crying, wanting me to stay. I had just heard of “Six Memoirs” so I tried one out.

“Young Ian crying,’Grandpa don’t go.’”

As I thought about that I remembered an experience that took place 65 years ago. I hadn’t thought of it for years. My parents and I were on the railroad platform at the old D&RG depot saying good by to my grandfather as he left Salt Lake City for Bowling Green, Ohio to see my aunt.

Let’s try again: “The train took Grandpa. I cried.”

Ann Cannon’s column in the Deseret Morning News, May 19, 2008, page C1 has the following headline: “Readers tell life stories in 6 words”

Here are a few samples:

“How many days until pay day?”

“Because I’m the mom, that’s why!”

“I fell asleep writing my journal.”

You might Google “Six Word Memoirs” for some other good examples.

One final one for my journal:

“Michael, Wendy, David, Steven, Mark , Karen”

Good Journaling

by George Broschinsky

October 22, 2008

The time was the late 19^th Century. The place was Skull Valley in the western Utah desert on a ranch called “The Dell.”

The men were away looking after livestock. They would be gone a few days. The women and children were busy around the house, yard and barns with the usual chores. And then they came.

Who came? The Indians. Not dangerous, just passing through with their families. They were hungry. The practice was to feed Indians if they came and were hungry.

Behind the house was the “root cellar” for storing fruits and vegetables for the winter. The Indians were able to go in and take what they wanted – or needed. They found sacks of dried apples and loved them. The men ate and ate, stuffing themselves.

This developed a great thirst. They went to the well and drank and drank of the cool, clear water. The dried apples swelled with the water and soon the braves were rolling in pain on the ground, their stomaches grossly distended as though they were going to explode. The ranch women and children were afraid that some Indians might die and then they didn’t know what would happen.

Fortunately, the swelling subsided, the Indians left and the women and children huddled together in the house, much relieved.

I have visited the Dell two times. Once as a young boy, perhaps 12 years of age. We visited the house, the sheds and the root cellar. There was and old wagon with a top and black drapery. It was their hearse which doubled as an ambulance. The apple tree was still there, perhaps sixty ;years old.

We visited again when I was a grandfather The buildings had burned down. The cellar no longer existed, but the apple tree was still there.

The ranch was fading away just as the story was. My grandfather, who was one of the children, died over a half century ago. I don’t know how many of his descendants know this interesting story.

I want to record what I heard so that the story is not lost and a link between generations might be preserved.

That is a major objective of SecureJournal: to provide the link. To assist you in providing that link in your family. Helps will be provided: writing prompts and ideas which may assist you and encourage you.

“Good journaling!”

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