Spring 2014 Volume 3 Issue 1
Risk Ukulele Gumbo Depot Art Gallery Going to Branson? Spring 2014
for ages 50 and beyond... PrimeTime
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Prime Time Spring time is a wonderful time of year when the bulbs are bursting out of the ground in vibrant colors, and folks, young and older, want to play outdoors. I could write a whole column about the optimistic side of this season, but instead I’m going to address reader’s concerns. Prime Time readers call and e-mail about what they think and feel, usually passionate opinions that inspire them to contact us. I read a list of things Americans worried about several decades ago. Among the top issues were disease and crop-damaging weather, and when I went back over past e-mails from Prime Time readers, the difference was interesting. The proposed dog park in Shreveport is a local concern. Some people don’t believe that tax dollars should be spent on a park designed for pet’s play-times. They think public monies should be spent on streets, utilities, protection; things that will benefit all the people. They believe dogs are a personal responsibility, and should not be a financial burden shouldered by working people who are loaded down with taxes. Speaking of taxes, an old issue troubling citizens is the fact that Editor/Publisher Elaine Hodge Marze Layout/Art Direction Grace V. Hardesty Contributing Writers Lani Duke Dennise Aiello Irv Heard Bonita Bandaries Chuck Lambert Shirley M. Brown Elaine Marze Ric Cochran Anil Minocha MD Jan Core Sarah Hudson Pierce Lisa Craft Steve Rainey
non-property owners get to vote to raise property taxes. Not too hard to figure why local taxes are so high. It’s not a secret that most home owners take better care of their property than renters do, and the reconstruction tax-dollars spent on government housing is legend. Business owners and citizens are worried about higher taxes, insurance policy instability, and more and more restrictions and less profit. Older people long for a return to a time when hard work was a virtue and government assistance was a necessity not a career goal. They are concerned about a lack of moral values because they see young people openly celebrate lifestyle choices that they were taught to abstain from, and the topics and language of prime time television ensures “seniors” keep their TVs tuned to TV Land, FOX News, and Hallmark Channel. Many Prime Time readers served in our military, and they are disgusted with the cutbacks in benefits to our troops while illegals are gifted with health care, education, and numerous financial benefits. I’ve got to stop now because the list is long, but our older citizens deserve to have their concerns voiced because they feel few publiPrime Time® is published seasonally (Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter) by Prime Time Magazine, 920 Pierremont Rd., Ste. 105 Shreveport, LA 71106 Single edition FREE on newsstands. Editorial questions or for advertising information— Call: 318.780.0510 or e-mail editor: firstname.lastname@example.org Fax comments to: 318.869.3134
cations reflect their point-of-view. The world we grew up in hardly exists anymore. Some mourn the loss. Others celebrate. I’ve also heard from readers who shared their own experiences in relation to the winter issue’s “Language Can Be Tricky” article. One man said his wife told friends that he’d had his uterus operated on when in reality it was his urethra! Another woman reported she’d announced her husband’s episiotomy had gone well. She should have said “Tracheotomy.” Elaine Marze, Editor email@example.com
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Table of Contents Spring 2014
Volume 3 Issue 1
www.issuu.com/PrimeTimeMag 04 Editor’s Note 06 Ladies Auxiliary Fashion Show
By Ric Cochran
08 Our Old Steamer Trunk By Sarah Hudson Pierce
10 Going to Branson? 10 Vietnam Memorial Wall
11 Medical Help: Don’t
Ignore a Gift from God By Chuck Lambert
12 Mardi Gras
By Lani Duke
13 A Birthday Goal
By Shirley M. Brown
14 Depot Art Gallery Is Open
16 New U.S. Citizens By Dennise Aiello
18 God Circles of
Community Love By Jan Core
22 Sybil Kelley
By Bonita Bandaries
23 Lingering Embers By Shirley M. Brown
24 Cancer Leads to Ministry By Lisa Craft
25 Health & Wellness:
All Yogurts Are Not Created Equal By Anil Minocha MD
26 America’s Grandma Enjoyed the Ride By Elaine Marze
27 Riding a Bicycle By Chuck Lambert
Mama Came to Hunt! By Bonita Bandaries
30 Did the Jewish People Reject Jesus By Steve Rainey
32 Widow’s Walk By Elaine Marze
19 Personal Testimonial:
33 Crossword Puzzle: How
20 Ukulele Gumbo
34 Special Neighbors
All the Way By Elaine Marze
Lone Survivor By Marcus Luttrell with Patrick Robinson By Elaine Marze
15 Lavery: Post 14 Commander 28 Move Over Boys...
Cover: Photo by Elaine Marze, taken at Big Cedar Lodge in Branson, Missouri.
21 Book Review:
By Lani Duke
Flowers Produce Sound By Irv Heard By Elaine Marze
Plans Fashion Show The Ladies Auxiliary of the American Legion Post 14 located at 5315 South Lakeshore Drive in Shreveport will hold its annual Spring Fashion Show and Luncheon Fundraiser on Saturday, April 26, at 11:30 a.m. The Ladies Auxiliary is a non- profit group founded to assist the American Legion Post and its veterans. Monies raised from the style show also support our own projects as well as those in the community such as Operation Soldier, Toys for Tots, and an Easter Egg Hunt for the area’s children. We also help sponsor parties at the War Veterans Home and assist with projects at our local VA Hospital. One very important project is Girls State/Girls Nation which is for high school juniors in the spring and summer. The ladies auxiliary supports a number of scholarship programs that help benefit veterans, children of veterans and youth. The Ladies Auxiliary is the largest women’s patriotic service organization in the nation. We are anxiously looking forward to even greater success at this year’s event that will be held at the American Legion Club on South Lakeshore Drive overlooking beautiful Cross Lake. Some models this year include Sue Prudhomme, Mary Beth Lavery, Sarah Ebbesson, and Julia Collins, all Ladies Auxiliary Members. Legionnaires and Sons of the Legion will also be participating as models and servers. We are a Legion family that works together. There will be door prizes donated by area businesses and a few surprises along the way. Clothes will be provided by Belk Department Store at Eastgate and Dress Barn at the Louisiana Boardwalk. Ticket sales will start February 1 and are $15 each. To obtain your tickets, you can come by the American Legion office Monday – Friday 8 a.m. – 4 p.m. We look forward to seeing you there to make this Old Hollywood themed style show truly Unforgettable. (from top) Sue Prudhomme, Mary Beth Lavery, Sarah Ebbesson and Julia Collins
Experts say caffeine is bad for you. Fat, carbohydrates and sugar are bad for you. Lack of exercise is bad for you; and microwaves, plastic bottles, cell phones and pesticides can cause cancer. Oh, yeah, and don’t worry because that can kill you, too! 6
About the Author: Ric Cochran writes articles and speaks to groups about investing for everyday people. He’s an investor coach at RAM.
Investment advisory services are offered through Rainey Asset Management, a Louisiana, Texas, Florida, Arkansas registered investment adviser. Past performance is not indicative of future results.
By Ric Cochran
Let’s talk about risk. Even if we hate risk, we still can’t escape it. Some are so afraid of risk they might likely lose more trying to hide from it than harnessing it. Others recognize that everything has risk, including cash, perhaps especially cash over the long-term. How could cash have risk? Really simple: if you lock up your cash, then take it out and count it years later, you may have all your cash; but can you buy as much with it as five, ten or twenty years before? Have you ever seen a period in modern times that prices didn’t go up? If you can only buy half as much, or even less, you’ve lost a lot of purchasing power. Ouch! And unless you want to use your dollar bills for wallpaper, the power to purchase goods and services is the only value cash has. How much purchasing power can we lose over time by holding cash, not achieving high enough returns to keep up with a rising cost of living? A lot, if you trust the government’s numbers. Some believe the government understates inflation, which would be worse. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, it took over $100,000.00 in 2013, to purchase what $43,000.00 would purchase in 1983. That’s a loss of over half! But just before that, from 1973 to 1983, cash lost half its purchasing power in a single decade! So it took over $100,000 in 2013 to purchase what $19,000 would buy in 1973, a loss in purchasing power of over 80%. Imagine if, like Rip Van Winkle, you went to sleep in 1973 with $19,000 under your pillow and woke up in 2013 how surprised you’d be at how little your money would buy. Cash doesn’t seem to keep well. Many stay in cash or cash-like, low-return, accounts for fear of losing if they invest. I understand that fear. I’ve seen a lot of people lose money due to poorly structured portfolios and bad decisions. But consider that while a well-structured portfolio is likely to fluctuate in value, time tends to reward those who ride out the dips. Whereas, those who fail to prudently invest out of fear of fluctuations tend to be left farther and farther behind by a rising cost of living. Yes, periodic downward fluctuations in markets occur; but so do periodic upward fluctuations. Nobody seems to mind the Spring 2014
upward fluctuations that are more frequent. And you can’t realistically expect the upward performance without being willing to ride out the occasional downward dips. Often a key difference between success and failure can amount to having perspective. According to studies by Ibbotson Associates, stocks in a well-diversified portfolio have historically outperformed bonds, cash, or cash equivalents. During the 85-year period from 1926 to 2010, studies documented in their book Stocks, Bonds, Bills, and Inflation: 2010 Yearbook, show that Large Company Stocks have provided investors an annualized average return of 9.87%, which amounted to 6.67% above inflation, far and away better than the returns for bonds and, of course, cash. Why did stocks provide higher returns over the long haul? Stocks are perceived to have higher risk than bonds, or cash, though long-term bonds can have stock-marketlike volatility, albeit with lower historical returns. Investors in stocks expect to be rewarded for their willingness to put up with volatility. Otherwise, why put up with markets sometimes going down if the long-term rewards aren’t enough to more than assuage the periodic short-term groans? Inflation tends to reward stocks over time as it tends to punish bonds and cash. I believe much of what people consider risk, is simply market volatility and failure to understand the ebb and flow of world commerce. If you can’t hide from risk and inflation over the long-term, why not seek payment for putting up with it, that is, as an alternative to losing purchasing power? A key function of a portfolio manager should be to allocate investments among multiple asset classes to help manage risk and volatility more effectively through diversification. It’s also important to avoid excessive trading and hidden fees. The goal should be to achieve real returns (returns above the rate of inflation) for a level of volatility an investor can be comfortable with. An added bonus is a portfolio manager offering ongoing education for clients, on a monthly basis, to gain a growing appreciation for risk and the generous rewards for not hiding from it.
teamer S runk T Our Old
Its contents were unknown, until one Christmas Eve in December 1957. Christmas had never meant much to me growing up in South West City, Missouri. We had almost no extended family. My grandparents had died years earlier and my father was an only child. Though I had one sister, Alice, I felt rootless. I also had no self-esteem. During class assignments I felt inferior to classmates who had so much to proclaim about their family histories. One boy proudly spoke of his father having fought in World War II; others told of ancestors arriving in covered wagons. My taciturn parents had never had much to say about our heritage. All I knew was that until my daddy’s health failed both of them worked very hard to provide for our meager existence. Daddy plowed all day behind mules just to feed us. When class resumed after Christmas, and others excitedly spoke of their many gifts, I remained silent. For me, Christmas meant only one gift. One year it was homemade candy, another it was a toy watch. But when I was nine I was blessed with the gift that would sustain me for life. It was 1957 and that Christmas Eve we sat around our blazing cast-iron wood stove. I received my gift, a wool scarf, and our father read the Bible to us by the light of a kerosene lamp. As the flickering lamp cast shadows about the room I found myself staring at the steamer trunk that sat in a corner, an embroidered scarf covering it’s rounded lid. It was kept locked, safe from childish hands. I had long begged to look inside, but our father would shake his head. “Nothing to play with, child,” he said. “Just a lot of old stuff.” That only whetted my curiosity, and I prayed God would somehow get my father to open it. On that Christmas I felt even more compelled to see what was
By Sarah Hudson Pierce
inside. I clung to Mother’s waist almost in tears, pleading for her to have our daddy open it. Finally he got up and said, “Seeing it’s Christmas and all, I guess it won’t do any harm.” He took a key from a high shelf, knelt and unlocked the trunk. As the lid creaked open, the first thing I saw was an old tobacco can. Our father showed us the blonde curls inside it, saved from his first haircut in 1899. When he saw my delight it seemed to open some kind of emotional dam within him. He began telling about the other items he took out of the trunk. He proudly showed an old sepia-tinted picture of his father, George Washington McClellan Hudson, my circuit-riding preacher grandpa, born in 1865 in Greenfield, Indiana. In yellowed journals, in fine cursive script, my grandpa wrote how in 1888 he came to Licking, Missouri, where he met Sarah Hudson, my namesake. Their wedding picture on stiff board showed a handsome couple. I was thrilled and captivated as I studied the trunk’s treasures. I found a tin type of great-grandfather Nicholas Ritz, who I later learned had emigrated to America from Bern, Switzerland, in 1851. His diary spoke of his despair of ever seeing land again as he spent three months crossing the Atlantic on a small sailing ship. I learned of my great-grandpa Robert Hudson, born on February 20, 1822, who had brought the steamer trunk over from Hull, England, in 1830. And I was fascinated by my second removed great-grandfather Joseph C. Morris, who I later learned was born in Monmouth County, New Jersey. His son, my great grandfather, W. H. Morris, became a doctor during the Civil War. I later learned that my Morris family history connects back to Lewis Morris, governor of New Jersey. I fondly fingered great-grandmother Sarah Alice
Ritz-Hudson’s hand-carved wooden crochet hooks, and reverently touched hair and scraps of my great-grandmother Elizabeth Andres-Ritz’s burial clothing. I held the golden locket that contained the picture our mother cherished most—of her mother, Myrtle Mae Maples-Morris, who died of typhoid fever when Mother was only two. And I was told how my maternal grandparents had raced their wagon in the Oklahoma land rush in what would later be known as Woods County and how my mother was born in an underground Indian dwelling in 1906, about the time Oklahoma became a state. I always knew that there was something not quite right about my mother but it wasn’t until 1989 that I heard a first hand account from Clara Knox. Clara told me that she was watching my mother, then two and half years of age, while my grandmother lay dying of typhoid fever. She said that my mother was playing on top of the sod roof which happened to have a soft spot and she fell through the underground dwelling and lapsed into a coma. They didn’t expect my mother to live. In the meantime my grandmother died leaving my mom and Aunt Gladys orphaned. Their dad was also critically ill with typhoid fever so Clara Knox and her husband Ben took the children in and kept them for
some time until their dad got well and remarried and in time reclaimed his children. Less than three months later, my father died in that same room, and we later went to an orphanage because of my mother’s inability to cope as a mother. I delved deep into the trunk and was blessed from what I found out about our family heritage which should be preserved to help future generations. It took me years to fully grasp all of the wonderful gifts in the old steamer trunk that planted a seed of self-esteem that would blossom and grow, enriching my life. Not only did I feel pride in my ancestry, but I had ample stories to tell not only my schoolmates but others who cross my life because everyone has some obstacles to overcome whether they are rich, poor, or in between. Life is like that. I wonder how my life would have turned out had it not been for the gifts inside that old trunk which have kept on giving for the past fifty-five years.
About the Author: Sarah Hudson Pierce is a syndicated columnist and president of Ritz Publications in Shreveport.
Sarah’s family: Dad, Roy; Mom, Marcella; and Alice in front and to the left of Sarah
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â€œSeniorâ€? Sunday school classes and 50-plus departments at churches are making plans for Spring and Summer bus tours. One of the most popular destinations is Branson, Mo. because that city is within a dayâ€™s journey and it caters to the needs, wants, and desires of people over age 50. All genres of entertainment are available in Branson, but one which many Prime Timers prefer is old-time gospel music. Throw in the local element of a home-town singer and tour directors want to put that theater on their agenda. This season Phaedraâ€™s show, All American Gospel, opens Friday, April 4 at 10 a.m. at the God & Country Theater, 1840 W. 76 Blvd. in Branson. Make reservations by calling (417) 334-6806 to see and participate with Phaedra and Melissa Jean and band as they revisit gospel songs many of us grew up hearing and loving.
Vietnam Memorial Wall There are 58,267 names listed on that polished black wall. The names are arranged in the order in which they were taken from us by date and within each date the names are alphabetized. There are three sets of fathers and sons on the Wall. 39,996 on the Wall were 22 or younger. 8,283 were just 19 years old. The largest age group, 33,103 were 18 years old. Twelve soldiers on the Wall were 17 years old. Five soldiers on the Wall were 16 years old. One soldier, PFC Dan Bullock was 15 years old. 997 soldiers were killed on their first day in Vietnam. 1,448 soldiers were killed on their last day in Vietnam. Thirty one sets of brothers are on the Wall. Eight on the Wall are women who were nursing the wounded. 244 soldiers were awarded the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War; 153 of them are on the Wall. West Virginia had the highest casualty rate per capita in the nation. There are 711 West Virginians on the Wall. The Marines of Morenci: They led some of the scrappiest high school football and basketball teams that the little Arizona copper town of Morenci (pop. 5,058) had ever known and cheered. They enjoyed roaring beer busts. In quieter moments, they rode horses along the Coronado Trail, stalked deer in the Apache National Forest. And in the patriotic camaraderie typical of Morenciâ€™s mining families, the nine graduates of Morenci High enlisted as a group in the Marine Corps. Their service began on Independence Day, 1966. Only 3 returned home. The most casualty deaths for a single day was on January 31, 1968: 245 deaths. The most casualty deaths for a single month was May, 1968 - 2,415 casualties were incurred. Their sacrifice should be remembered. 10
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Don’t Ignore a
Gift from God
By Chuck Lambert
Why do I consider the two transient ischemic attacks (TIAs) I’ve had in two weeks gifts from God? Because they are, in and of themselves, harmless; but they are warnings that I need to make some serious lifestyle changes. While airplane rides put me in a state of catatonic fear, give me a choice between a fiery crash resulting in instant death and either Alzheimer’s or a stroke, I’ll take a seat by the wing, please. A TIA usually does not present strong, violent symptoms and consequently, most people—especially men—ignore them. I suspect, after reading up on them on the internet, that nearly everyone who suffers a debilitating stroke had—and ignored—one or more TIAs; hence, I consider them Gifts from God. As I went to the emergency room, I felt silly because both times by the time I arrived there, the symptoms had either disappeared or become barely noticeable. That’s because—I found out—it’s the nature of the event; hence, the word transient. The bad news/good news is that steps can be taken to head off a genuine stroke that may be looming within a few to forty-eight hours.
If you experience tingling and/or numbness in one side of your body—arms, leg, face, first call 911! Then go to the nearest mirror and stick out your tongue. If it fails to respond on the same side as the tingling, or if the eye on that side works a little slower than the other; if your smile looks lopsided; you’re having either a TIA or the beginning of a stroke. But even if those things don’t happen, you may still be having or have had a TIA, as (remember transient) the symptoms may only last a few minutes. You still need to go to the ER. One thing that troubles me is that until my late brother had three of them, I had never heard of a TIA. That should not be true; everyone, especially those of us over 55, need to know about them and just how serious we should take them. About the Author: Chuck Lambert is a native of Shreveport. He has visited and spent time in 49 of the 50 states (never made it into Montana) and many foreign nations. He has spent at least a week in every major city in the United States--except Boston. Along the way he picked up many ideas and experienced a variety of pursuits. Chuck can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
“Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.” ~ Corrie ten Boom
By Lani Duke It’s not your New Orleans Mardi Gras, or your mother’s Mardi Gras either. Shreveport has taken a preLenten celebration often recognized for its wild parties, and made it Shreveport special. Krewe members cite numerous reasons for joining up and taking part. Some enjoy the creativity aspect, decorating for a bal and developing costumes. Others dive into the fantasy of dressing up to be a duke or duchess, a king or queen. Camaraderie is another reason some enjoy their krewe affiliation; large krewes may divide into smaller teams, each with its own float. Good works is yet another reason; each krewe has its own philanthropic efforts. Shreveport-Bossier City Mardi Gras is not reserved for the young by any means. Most royalty seem to be baby boomers, already retired or in the soon-to-be eligible age group. Although my first Mardi Gras bal was self-described as formal attire, attire was varied, from “black tie” to ball cap. No hoodies or gym shoes, although at least one woman wore sturdy lace-up boots with a floor-length formal. In keeping with European tradition, the most obvious part of Mardi Gras is the parade, a traveling party. Locals and out-of-town visitors alike hold up their hands, eager to catch “throws,” commemorative plastic tumblers emblazoned with krewe names, brightly colored strings of shiny beads, frisbees, or sometimes candy. The neighborhood Highland parade is even more kid friendly, with the krewe of barbecue lofting foil-wrapped, freshly cooked hot dogs in buns. Most krewes refrain from organizing their own parades, but may march in other krewes’ parades. Some are quite informal, like the krewe of Sue—all its members share or want to share that popular female name (no word on whether all of them are female). Or one may consider joining a marching society like the Blanc et Noir Marching Society, a group who dresses up to strut at the head of the Highland Parade. 12
(from top) A mature Randy Moulder took his seat as king of the Krewe of Atlas at this year’s bal. The Krewe of Elders, for those age 50 and older, helps older folks on fixed incomes as its mission. A classic car emerges from the shadows during the 2014 Krewe of Harambee parade. “The Williams Sisters, Reunited After 50 Years,” read the sign on this float in the 2013 Parade of Highlands.
A Birthday Goal By Shirley M. Brown
Traveling the bike trail alongside the Red River from my home in Broadmoor on a plain vanilla no-geared bicycle—just like the one I had as a girl, but with a bigger seat—was a goal I set for myself on turning 65. The year was 1991, “before the boats.” It was in October that I started out to accomplish my task. In no hurry, I stopped to speak with a few folks working in their yards, some a shade less than friendly, not knowing how to react to a biker granny. My over-sized bicycle seat was cushioned with sheepskin and quite comfortable. Without a bicycle basket, my pockets were crammed with necessities. A plastic water bottle dangled from the handlebars. I took my driver’s license, just in case I got a ticket for speeding. Or in case I suffered a heat stroke and needed identifying. The journey from home to the bike trail was uneventful, though I did leave a few oldsters shaking their heads when they learned of my destination. “At her age?” one dear soul muttered. Reaching the Barksdale Bridge, I maneuvered around and under it and crossed the four-lane boulevard to the bike trail. A few cars whizzed by, traveling faster than the law allows. The trail wound along the river, the path shaded by trees which, although nearly devoid of leaves, still provided a nice canopy. It was pleasant riding, though I soon felt trembling in my seldom exercised legs. The bike trail kept angling toward the rushing river, taking me farther from the roadway. Entering the dimness of the woods I seemed to be the only person on that narrow trail. There were times I had to dismount and walk my bike up inclines and in some places the dust was so thick the wheels wouldn’t roll. The formidable part was the isolation. Totally alone, only the now distant sounds of the cars gave me company. I nervously hummed aloud as I pedaled along. This was supposed to be fun. I should be riding like the wind, enjoying the rush of the river, the sway of the
trees. Instead, I felt scared. Granted, it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, but surely someone should be coming along this trail. Maybe it had been condemned and no one told me. It was unsettling to be in such a wide open area and not see another person. Up the trail, toward the wooded river bank I heard something moving in the brush. A splash, a slither— an alligator? A runaway prisoner? A rapist? My heart pounded. Pedaling fiercely, my pulse beat faster. There was something ahead. It loomed bright orange through the trees. I heard voices and soon came to a strange, but comforting sight. Three, huge, orange-painted city mowing tractors were parked nose to nose in a clearing. Three city workers perched high in the air on their respective tractors, eating lunch. No danger here. I sighed in relief. They smiled and waved. I returned the wave and rode on. Finally there were voices coming from the direction of downtown, my destination. First came a biker, closely followed by six joggers obviously on their noontime run. They shouted conversation at each other, with much laughter. How silly I had been to be afraid. Now this was fun—the way it should be. With renewed energy I managed the last miles, puffing onto the home stretch, finally reaching the Barnwell Center, the beginning of the bike trail and the end of my journey. I had kept my retirement promise. As prearranged, my bicycle and I rode home in style in the back of a pickup truck.
About the Author: Shirley Brown belongs to two Shreveport writers’ clubs, and is a retired legal secretary. She loves hearing from readers at email@example.com.
I’ve reached an age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me. Spring 2014
Depot Art Gallery Is Art lovers living in Sabine Parish or visiting the scenic Toledo Bend area of Northwest Louisiana now have an added attraction in The Depot Art Gallery, located in the historic railroad depot in Many. After years of development, The Depot Art Guild opened its gallery in this unique setting, realizing a dream of its members to bring fine art to exhibition in its permanent home in a local historic structure. The Depot Gallery held its grand opening and showed visitors that the result was well worth the wait. Guests were treated to paintings and photographs, as well as pottery pieces that were arranged in a stunning display in an area of the old depot building that once greeted passengers bound for distant vistas.
Throughout the afternoon, those in attendance had opportunities for prizes given at a drawing each hour. Finally, at the end of the day, a large galvanized tub decorated with hand painted geraniums and full of Louisiana and art-related objects was awarded to one of the patrons who had participated in the project through monetary donations to the Guild. Music was provided throughout the day by Richard Harpel, and professional photographer Ross Williams was on hand to document the event. A dream realized, a work in progress, a future bright with promise, and a place worth visiting when art lovers are in the Toledo Bend area. The Depot Art Gallery is officially open in historic Many, Louisiana. (left) Janice Hutton makes her first sale at the Grand Opening. (below) The old Depot Art Gallery in Many, La.
Art, refreshments, and music were enjoyed along with artists’ demonstrations by Elaine Echels, Norma Godwin, Jo Ann Cason, and Janice Hutton at the Depot’s recent Grand Opening. Mr. and Mrs. Ron Williams show off a much-loved piece (left).
Lavery is Post 14 Commander Stephen J. Lavery is Commander of Shreveport’s Lowe-McFarlane Post 14 of the American Legion. Thomas R. Mills serves as First Vice Commander. Lavery, an Air Force veteran of the Vietnam War, is an active member of the American Legion. In addition to serving on the executive, house and grounds, bylaws and membership committees, he served previously as commander of Post 14 for the 2012-2013 year. Retired from KCS Railways after 37 years, Lavery, in addition to his duties at Post 14, is the 4th District Area “A” commander of the American Legion. Spring 2014
By Dennise Aiello
Recently a group of men and women stood in a courtroom of the Federal Courthouse in Shreveport, renouncing their citizenship in all other nations and swearing allegiance to the United States of America. The Naturalization ceremony was officiated by Federal District Judge Maurice Hicks. In his remarks during the ceremony, Judge Hicks gave a brief history of the founding of the United States. The judge reminded the new citizens that the United States is a country established by citizens of many countries and that our founders wrote the Constitution to ensure liberty for all. Judge Hicks said it is important to participate in government and emphasized their right and freedom to register and to vote. Diana Mikhaylovna Paris was one of the 14 people who became a naturalized U.S. citizens at the ceremony. Diana and her son moved from Tashkent, Uzbekistan to the United States almost four years ago. Diana, her husband and son live in Transylvania, Louisiana, at the northeastern edge of the state. In her native Uzbekistan Diana studied at the University of Foreign Languages where she received her Bachelors degree.
Fluent in French and English she taught students in middle school and high school and worked as a tutor in the French language. Her fluency in English made the process of studying for and passing the naturalization test easier for her than those who must first learn the English language in preparing for the test. Besides Uzbekistan eleven other countries were represented including Mexico, Guatemala, Iran, Bahamas, Germany, Ecuador, India, Jamaica, China, Burundi and Yemen. Another proud new U.S. citizen is Maria Humberta Stewart from Mexico. She has lived in the United States as a legal resident since 1985. Maria married her husband in Alexandria, Louisiana. She was active with her daughter in Brownie Scouts and Girl Scouts, as an assistant leader and then leader of the Girl Scout troop until her daughter left for college. After the naturalization ceremony the new citizens were honored at a reception hosted by the Professional Republican Women’s Club. At the reception Maria, as she had done many times in the scouting program, led the other new citizens in saying the pledge of allegiance to the U.S. flag.
Maria Humberta Stewart was welcomed to the reception following the Naturalization ceremony by PRWC associate member James Maziarz. Diana Mikhaylovna Paris received her Naturalization certificate from federal Judge Maurice Hicks in a ceremony at the Federal Courthouse in Shreveport. 16
Maria encourages other immigrants to apply for citizenship. “Go ahead and do it,” she said. “It’s not as hard as you think, with lots of questions and papers to fill out. It was easy for me.” Maria worked through the Interfaith Immigration Center, sponsored by the Catholic diocese, to apply and receive her U.S. citizenship. The Republican women also presented Rinkeshkumar Maheshbhai Patel, originally from India, a flag that had flown over the U. S. Capitol building. His name was drawn by a court employee to receive the flag presented by the women’s club. Diana Paris expressed the sentiments of many immigrants to the U.S. “I am very proud to be an American citizen,” she said, citing democracy and the opportunity to travel unrestricted from one place to another as some of the new freedoms she enjoys. About the Author: Dennise Aiello is a freelance writer/photographer who lives in Benton, Louisiana. Her e-mail address is aiellodennise@ bellsouth.net.
Very happy 64-year-old Maria Humberta Stewart is surrounded by family after the Naturalization ceremony held in December.
The GENCOM Genealogical Computer Society will hold two March meetings: one on March 2 and another on March 23. The time and location for both meetings will be from 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. at the Broadmoor Branch of the Shreve Memorial Library, 1212 Captain Shreve Drive, Shreveport. At the first meeting on Sunday, March 2, 2014 the topic of the meeting will be “FamilySearch.org— Courthouse on the Internet,” which will demonstrate how to find many courthouse records for your ancestors on the FamilySearch.org Web site from your computer at home. At the second meeting on Sunday, March 23, 2014 the topic of the meeting will be “Using Ancestry.com and Google To Complete Your Family Tree,” which will demonstrate how to use these two Web sites to find those elusive ancestors in your family tree. These meetings are of interest to both the beginner and advanced researchers. The information presented will help get you started on your research and break down some of those genealogy brick walls. Everyone is welcome and the meetings are free and open to the public. For information call (318) 773-7406 or e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org. PrimeTime
G o d C i rc l e s of Community Love God Circles: We all encounter them regardless of our faith or even lack thereof. When we look back, and we see great orchestration in people, places and events from unlikely, unplanned agendas coming together in sequence so miracles happen. Many go unrecognized, are rapidly sloughed off or are seen as a coincidence. When you have had so many you can’t explain, you start seeing a pattern...in nature, the earth, sun, planets. We are surrounded by circles. In a speech at Haven House Leader Rally in Shreveport, Centenary College President, Dr. David Rowe relayed his realization for our desperate need for the friendship circle of Community Renewal. His neighborhood circle includes Centenary College, Highland and his Southern Trace home. He had met with Mack McCarter of Community Renewal International, Lee Jeter of the Fuller Center, and Donna Curtis of Shreveport Green for the launch of World Houses on Campus. The partnership directly benefits Centenary first-year students. Rowe said. “We are honored to partner with organizations that recognize the need to develop future leaders who actively work to better their communities.” Expanding circles of relationships is one of the key initiatives of the program. On an unusually quiet Saturday afternoon when Dr. Rowe was relaxing on his couch watching football. A de-
By Jan Core
manding knock on his front door jolted him. A neighbor had found his elderly next door neighbor bleeding profusely from a fall in the driveway. When the EMT’s arrived, they asked the man’s name. Neither knew. Like many of us, he was busy in the world doing many good things, but had neglected where he was planted. The story of the Good Samaritan walked slowly through his mind. He vowed to get to know his neighbors. For amazing circles, we have to look no further than the unfathomable fame and fortune of the most popular family in our present times. The Robertson’s rise from virtual obscurity to top visibility has a circle pattern. These unlikely icons readily proclaim: “Who but God who invented humor could make that one happen.” In an appearance at Saddleback Mega Church in Lake Forest, Calif., Phil Robertson said the world would be a better, more secure and safe place if people were to just love the Lord and love their neighbor. “It will turn your world around.” Now that’s a ‘Circle of Community Love.’ About the Author: Jan Core is a local free-lance writer. Readers can contact her at email@example.com.
Order from any bookstore
Hello, Darling by Elaine Hodge Marze
Most love stories are about the beginning of a relationship. This book tells the love story at the end of a relationship. “Elaine has the unique ability to make you laugh through your tears. You’ll learn about the progress and treatment of her husband’s cancer, see the humor that they both found in almost every situation—but most of all you’ll feel God’s presence in everything they faced.” Patti Yeatts, Administrative Asst., Northwest LA Baptist Association
“Each experience as shared through her words has left me wanting more. She writes as if she were talking to you. You’ll feel joy one moment and cry the next. Laughter is always key in her writings no matter what. Anyone who reads her story is sure to share it again and again.” Vickie Clemons, Tennessee WMU
You can schedule her to speak or for a book signing by e-mailing Elaine at firstname.lastname@example.org. 18
All the Way I have scoliosis which resulted in one leg getting shorter and shorter and my hips becoming wop-sided to the extent that people walking behind me would feel compelled to say stuff like, “Hey, Elaine, did you know your hips are wop-sided?” Then when I broke my leg a year ago and started putting all my weight on my “good” leg that resulted in a rapidly degenerating hip. Long story shorter, I was told by two different orthopedic doctors that I needed a hip replacement. I had never been to a chiropractor in my life, but when a friend advised me that Dr. Maggio could help me, I made an appointment with him because I did NOT want hip surgery. I am so thankful I did because the results have been phenomenal! Not only did he uncurve my spine that a physician
By Elaine Marze
told me was unfixable, but my short leg is no longer shorter than the other one! I still have a little problem with my hip, but not to the extent that I need surgery! I went from barely walking with extreme pain to walking with only a little occasional pain. That is a big, amazing deal for me because I regard surgery as the last option, and Dr. Maggio has given me a straight spine and even hips for the first time in years! In addition to his weekly radio show, Dr. Maggio is also a team physician for LA Tech University and a wellness advisory counselor for USA Wrestling, Judo, and Weight Lifting. He is founder of ALL THE WAY HEALTH CENTER, and I highly recommend that anybody with aches and pains call and make an appointment to see him.
Magazine can be found at: SAFE Planning office • 920 Pierremont Building lobby Willis-Knighton Hospitals, Offices & Wellness Centers Interim Healthcare Staffing of N. LA, Inc. NW Baptist Association Office Cornerstone, Bossier City Christian Life Tapes & Books, Jewella Ave. PFF Credit Union Mark Ford CPA Pilgrim Manor Nursing Home, Bossier City Velocity Care, Airline Dr. Dr. Carter Boyd, Bossier City Promise Hospital, Bossier City American Legion Post, Cross Lake Bossier Council on Aging Yokem Toyota Performance Carwash, Youree Dr. Auto Mall Car Wash & Lube Center Velocity Care, Bossier City and Youree Dr. Cantina Laredo, Shoppes at Bellemead Champion Ford Service Department, Bert Kouns Mike Morgan Service Department, Bert Kouns Progressive Care, WK Greenwood & Doctors Dr., Bossier City
If you have a business and would like to have magazines for distribution at your site, please contact us at
email@example.com or (318) 780-0510. Spring 2014
Commit to better health in
Dr. Jason Maggio D.C. is a wellness physician with a specialty in chiropractic biophysics. 8575 Fern Ave., Suite 101 Shreveport, LA 71105
ALL THE WAY HEALTH CENTER Hear Dr. Maggio’s weekly radio program broadcasts live each Saturday, 8-9 a.m. on 710 KEEL.
UkuleleGumbo Name a ukulele player, any ukulele player. Did you name Bob Hope, Steve Martin, or Tiny Tim? How about Elvis or Doris Day? Famous uke players all, who strummed and sang on movie and TV screens over the years. If the enthusiasm and warmth with which local group Ukulele Gumbo is received are an effective measure, the uke is ready for another return. The local septet stays busy rehearsing and filling invitations to perform its cheery music. Members describe their organization as a â€œshow band,â€? performing 8 to 10 songs in a 30-minute performance; 12 to 14 in 60 minutes. Would-be bookers are asked to put in a request three months in advance. Lou Osburn, Susan Keith, Rita Rodgers, Keith Reyes, Ellen Stetson, and Ronny and Glenda Collums have been playing together once a week for about five years. Lou, Susan, and Keith have been strumming ukes since they were children; Rita and Ellen took to the ukulele after playing other musical instruments while playing any instrument was new to Ronny and Glenda when they joined the group. A glance across the group reveals that the instruments range from fairly large to tiny. The most common is the small soprano; as size increases, the tone deepens to concert, tenor, and baritone. Although Ukulele Gumbo members play an instrument you might associate with Hawaii, their tunes represent a cross-section of American popular culture, some from the 1920s or â€™30s, others far more recent. What they share are singable melodies, carried along by rhythm with a chuckle built in. Have strumming and singing become a second career for these folks in their 50s or more? Um, yes . . . and no. Although Ukulele Gumbo does charge a fee for most performances, any remuneration is contributed to animal rescue groups.
(from top) Performing at the Highland Restoration Association meeting. Yes, you might see Rita Rodgers dance a hulu when Ukulele Gumbo performs! She taught school in Hawaii.
About the Author: Lani Duke writes for several publications, and readers can send comments to her e-mail address, firstname.lastname@example.org. 20
By Lani Duke
Lou Osburn and Susan Keith in rehearsal.
LONE SURVIVOR by Marcus Luttrell with Patrick Robinson
The movie is great! The book is better than the movie! The language is rough in the movie and book, but not only is Lone Survivor a #1 National Bestseller, but the movie is showing to packed houses all across the country. This is a book that encourages patriotism, duty, honor, and commitment. It’s not for sissies. Reality can be tough, and it is Luttrell’s eyewitness account of Operation Redwing where he and his brother SEALS fought against an enemy in mountainous Afghanistan that outnumbered them greatly. It was a heartbreakingly courageous battle, and the book gives so much more information than the movie that adds to the reader’s understanding of events. Marcus Luttrell grew up in East Texas, which makes him our geographical cousin. Marcus and his twin brother literally began training to become future special forces when they were boys. Readers get a clear account of how that training paid off during the rigorous tribulations of BUDS where the hardest task masters in the military weed out any sign of weakness until only the very best warriors carry the title of U.S. Navy SEALS. Marcus describes the rabid hatred for Americans among the Taliban in no uncertain terms, and it should break our hearts at what a burden it is for U.S. battlefield warriors to be under rigid Rules of Engagement set forth by politicians who have never been in war. The unfairness of such ROE in a situation where fanatics pretend to be innocent civilians while carrying explosives to blow up our nation’s men and women literally made me sick for our troops. This enemy does not recognize Rules of Engagement! Brave U.S. soldiers die because they fear being tried by military courts more Spring 2014
than they do the enemy who kill, torture, and mutilate Americans. Lone Survivor is a testimony to what our dedicated, brave warriors go through for little pay and long separations from their loved ones. It is a book that should cause readers to consider the values of a nation that idolizes entertainers and sports figures and the outrageous salaries they make compared to the real heroes who fight and die on our behalf. This book ought to wake Americans up about what our priorities should be—that is to support our troops and make sure they have everything they need to fight this war and win it. Instead, we find out in this case that helicopter gunships were not available when they should have been, and lives were lost. The book relates what happened at Luttrell’s home in Texas while he was MIA, and that is such a magnificent example of love that it had to be included in the book. The story is Marcus Luttrell’s to tell, and he does it outstandingly. I heard one television critic ask, “Why put yourself through the emotional trauma of watching Lone Survivor?” My answer: because if these courageous men can go where they go, do what they do in the hellish places they are sent, under the restrictive regulations they die under, the least that we can do is sit safely in our comfy chairs or in a movie theater and watch or read their story, increasing our appreciation and understanding of their sacrifices—which may even cause some of us to make enough noise that these returning heroes would receive the honor, medical, and financial help that they so richly deserve.
By Elaine Marze 21
NOSC Shreveport Honorary Shipmate By Bonita Bandaries
About the Author: Bonita Bandaries, retired Caddo Parish educator is author of A Promise Kept. Contact her at email@example.com. 22
Sybil Kelly has earned recognition by the Navy Operational Support Center “for her amazing support of our deployed shipmates providing them ‘a touch of home while away from home’ and on watch around the globe.” Ms. Kelly was an honored guest at the First NOSC Shreveport Christmas Party December 13, 2013. Sybil invites volunteers from various groups to participate in sending cards to soldiers. Broadmoor Methodist, where she attends church, began sending Christmas cards about six years ago. The cards are boxed with 500 cards in each box and mailed to units or individual soldiers to distribute. She takes cards to Red Hat groups, Alpha Delta Kappa, churches, schools, nursing homes, retirement centers, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, family, and friends. This year 40,000 cards were sent and 13,000 of those were from her organizations, friends, and family. On December 26, Sybil starts buying cards for the next year. She currently has bought cards from 39 stores in Shreveport, Bossier, Haughton, Minden, Homer, and Haynesville. Last year she purchased 11,000 but hasn’t counted them this PrimeTime
year. She has recently sent 350 Valentines. Throughout the year Sybil communicates with “her soldiers.” She delights in receiving their thank you notes and sometimes flowers. Since Desert Storm Sybil has sent over 600 boxes to servicemen and women in the Middle East. The soldiers have been from all over the United States but she particularly likes to send to Louisiana men and women serving in the military. Right now she is communicating with 50 service men and women. The same groups which help with cards donate supplies and money for postage. At the Christmas event, a retired wounded warrior, Scott Wells, was also recognized. Scott is President and CEO of Independence Regained, an organization to rehabilitate, educate, and integrate people with spinal cord injury, traumatic brain injury, and other neurological disorders back into all aspects of an independent life. Scott himself competes in wheel chair races. Sybil Kelly, a retired educator, is an advocate for many causes and tirelessly volunteers her own time and is adept at involving others in the community to do the same. She always wears a smile. Spring 2014
By Shirley M. Brown
It had the shape of a double deck snowman, with the bottom half chunky and round, the wood-burning stove in the middle room of our three-room shotgun house where I lived as a child. When the fire got to a certain pitch, the rounded outside of the stove glowed rich red. The heat did not generate out into the room very far, so we five children and Mama huddled over and around, close to the stove, sharing its heat. Everyone but Mama and baby Dell took a turn cutting stove wood to keep a fire going. Sometimes we were lucky enough to have hunks of logs, which we had to split into pieces small enough to feed the woodeating monster. Our chopping block was a tree stump in the side yard, leveled to a smooth surface. Our ax was always in its place, rain or shine, embedded in the top of the stump. Sometimes we had to resort to breaking up pieces of long, thin strips of wood palings that we got from a sawmill nearby. I remember Sybil, Bill, Don, and me trekking through the woods to the mill and bringing back loads of those skinny strips, leavings after the mill hands cut lumber. Those palings were unwieldy, extremely limber and at least 20 feet long, and we carried them on our shoulders, two kids to one load, walking like in a safari, and the end pieces dipped and swayed as we walked. When we siblings were grown, we compared stories of “going to the sawmill.” My memory is that we had great adventures in this gathering of wood for Mama’s heater, that it was fun, and we pretended to be characters in a story as we made our burdened way home. Sybil’s version is that we stole the wood, that we crept under cover of darkness, or at dawn, dodging the lumber mill workers, snatching the wood, hoisting it to our shoulders and skulking home. Don remembers that the wood was free for the taking. Brother Bill vowed that we bought the strips for next to nothing. We all had different versions of this chore, but it is fact that we were kids whose father had left home, wife, and family, and we were responsible for locating wood,
cutting it to proper size, bringing loads of it into the house, and dumping it, leaves, spiders, snails, and all, on the bare plank floor behind the heater. There are also different versions of who slept in which bed in our three-room shotgun house, where there was a bed in each room. I remember the bed where I slept being in the middle room with the heater, and I shared it with Sybil and Don. I think Bill, as the oldest brother at home, had the front room all to himself, and Dell and Mama shared a bed in the kitchen. One fact is that our Mama on cold winter evenings took small blankets, held each blanket close to the red hot heater, gathered in its warmth, then rushed in turn to each shivering child, wrapped it tightly around each pair of feet and tucked us in. I don’t remember any kissing or hugging, but I will never forget that my mother tucked me in bed on cold winter nights with my feet wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. Another memory—my little five foot mother standing with her back to the heater, both hands hitching up the hem of her dress to direct the heat onto her body. When I was a teenager I became convinced that my mother did not love me. There were years and tears when we did not get along at all. I criticized her actions, and deplored the way she dressed, wishing that she would act and look the way I, Miss Perfect, thought she should. She accepted my criticisms; she didn’t fight back. She forgave me time after time. I know after all these years that my own unhappiness with myself caused me to strike out at her because I somehow realized she would accept it. I only wish my self-knowledge had come sooner. Still a vigorous and healthy woman at age 83, she died, ironically, of burns received when the tail of her gown caught fire from an open space heater in her home. As the Phoenix rose from its ashes, so has the memory of my mother raised to take its rightful place in my mind as the badly worn but always caring mother I now acknowledge and honor.
“The further a society drifts from truth, the more it will hate those who speak it.” ~ George Orwell Spring 2014
By Lisa Craft
I was at home working on the afternoon of July 3, 2012. The phone rang and as I answered it, my heart sank. I was diagnosed with DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ), fancy words for breast cancer. I was healthy, active and always on the go. I would have never dreamed this could happen to me. I was terrified. Thoughts of death crossed my mind. I cried buckets of tears for what seemed like hours. I had grandbabies. I lived a fastpaced life with no time for slowing down. In the weeks to follow my initial diagnosis, I met some amazing new friends, some of whom had gone through the same journey and could lend an ear, comfort, and support. Going through cancer alone is no fun, and I’m thankful for the friends that I had during that time. Some came into my life just for that season, and some have become lifetime friends. One offered to go with me to my doctor appointments. I absolutely took her up on her offer. She had gone through breast cancer herself so having her by my side was invaluable. In the weeks to follow my first doctor’s appointment, I had two lumpectomy surgeries. After the first lumpectomy, I was home recovering when I received another dreaded phone call from my surgeon. He was unable to remove all the cancer cells during the first surgery. They call this “not clearing the margins.” Next, he informed me that I needed a second surgery. My heart just sank, again. Unbelievable! I felt scared, once again. I began to cry and called out for God to help me. After recovering from this second surgery, I began a series of doctor appointments with my oncologist and radiology
oncologist. My cancer was in the beginning stage. It was contained. The radiologist actually informed me that I was the first patient in which they were able to catch the cancer at this stage using their newest biopsy medical equipment. Every day, before going to the cancer center for my radiation treatments, I would sit in my rocking chair with a prayer blanket on my chest, a Bible in one hand and a devotional in the other hand, praying. I know God was with me. I could feel His presence all around me. Cancer changed my life. Not only did it slow me down, but my faith in God became stronger than it has ever been. I began traveling and speaking to groups of women at youth camps, churches, and luncheons. I pray for God’s guidance. I share my story about my journey through cancer. I also wrote a small booklet on pastor’s wives who are “hidden treasures” in the shadows of their husbands. Life after cancer has been great! My journey, though a painful one at times, was an awesome journey. Many changes came about for me. I learned to never take anyone or anything for granted and to give thanks to God for everything, no matter what the situation or circumstance. I recently started a new ministry called “Praying Through.” The Web site is prayingthrough.org and the e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org. (See ad on page 35.)
When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace. 24
All Yogurts Are Not Created Equal
Health & Wellness
The knowledge that yogurt with its beneficial probiotic bacteria provides healthy nutrition has been passed on through generations. It was Dr. Metchnikoff, who in the early 20th century publically espoused the benefits of yogurt for health. He attributed his own health and longevity to yogurt. An average American eats four to six pounds of yogurt per year. The commercial market for yogurt exceeds $2.2 billion in the US. It is expected to grow to $9.3 billion by 2017. Texture of different yogurts varies and depends on a variety of factors. Greek yogurt is the most popular. It is a yogurt that has been extensively strained resulting in its rich texture along with a higher protein and lower lactose content. The latter two properties make it an attractive option for healthy nutrition. A big advantage of yogurt over milk and its other products is that yogurt contains lactase enzyme derived from the bacteria. Yogurt may be better tolerated by those with deficiency of the enzyme lactase manifesting as lactose intolerance, although the data is mixed.
Live yogurt cultures A brand of yogurt containing live cultures has a logo or seal (in the form of â€œAC â€? which stands for active cultures) on the container. Yogurt may be made by active cultures but may or may not have the bacteria depending upon the brand. The seal is voluntary and its presence implies that the yogurt contains at least 100 million bacteria per gram at the time of manufacture. Standard yogurt contains Lactobacillus bulgaricus and Streptococcus thermophilus, but their beneficial probiotic effect especially in doses present in usual yogurt is controversial and limited at best. Some brands subject yogurt to heat treatment in an attempt to boost the shelf life. This results in killing of bacteria and may get rid of some of the benefits of these probiotic bacteria. Spring 2014
By Anil Minocha MD
Health oriented yogurts Most health-oriented yogurt brands contain one or more beneficial probiotic bacteria in addition to or in lieu of the two standard ones outlined above. The number of bacteria per serving is also higher making it likely that enough bacteria can survive all the way to the colon and exert their beneficial effects to the highest potential. Many immune-enhancing benefits have been ascribed to these probiotic bacteria. Tips on buying yogurt Some of the yogurt brands may contain gelatin which is derived from animal skin, bones etc. Refrain from such products if you want strict vegetarian products based on religious, cultural, or health convictions. This may not always be mentioned on the label, so check out the company Web site. Some but not all yogurt products are gluten-free. Prefer plain yogurt over sweetened yogurts or those with fruit. They tend to have much higher sugar content. Add your own fruit to the plain yogurt just before eating. Sugar alternatives like Stevia may be used as sweetener if needed. Prefer plain yogurt over frozen yogurts if your goal is the highest health benefit.
About the Author: Anil Minocha MD is Professor of Medicine and author of the book, Dr. Mâ€™s Seven-X Plan for Digestive Health. Connect with him on facebook @doctoranil and follow on twitter @dranilminocha.
America’s Grandma Enjoyed the Ride By Elaine Marze
Former Louisiana Hayride vocalist and performer in her own right, Nita Lynn-Zahn, was referred to as “America’s Grandma” during her grandson, Cole Vosbury’s exciting and sometimes stressful journey into the finals on The Voice. It is no wonder that the camera often scanned her during Cole’s performances or critiques by the judges. She didn’t hide her emotional responses to the phenomenal career opportunity that the popular television show was for Cole, and the show’s producers seemed to love her reactions. “It was the most exciting time of my life, following my grandson, Cole’s, awesome journey on The Voice,” Nita Lynn said. “From the very beginning I felt that Cole would go far on the show. But, I think that none of us were prepared for the extent reached—all the way to the top five! It has been so totally fantastic, but exhausting.” Nita lost her husband September 4, 2013, and the shock of widowhood had not had time to wear off before she began making weekly trips to Los Angeles with various members of Cole’s family. The Voice paid for two family members to come to the show. “I left from Shreveport on Sunday morning and arrived in Los Angeles late in the day. I got to visit with Cole for a while on Sunday night, and then got ready for a 6 a.m. call to go to Universal Studios for the day where we went through security and interviews. They are very strict, allowing only two family members in the ‘hot seat’ section,” Nita Lynn described the procedure. “After several hours of ‘hurry up and wait,’ we were seated in the family section to watch the live performance of the contestants. That started at 5 p.m. Los Angeles time. We watched the taping of the guest stars first before they went live. Then my nerves would start acting up while we were waiting for Cole to perform. The crowd went wild when his picture and an interview came up on a big screen. Then he came on live to perform his best to garner America’s votes to keep him on the show, and I prayed, ‘Please, God, let him do well.’ 26
And, all of his performances were impeccably great.” “All four judges, Adam Levine, CeeLo Green, Cristina Aguilera, and Blake Shelton, whose team Cole was on, had praise for Cole’s performance,” said the proud grandma. “I am filled with pride at his perfect performances, even cried tears of joy.” Immediately following Cole’s performance, she and Lauri, Cole’s mom, or Robin, Nita’s son and Cole’s dad, were moved to another room for a live interview with Cole. Nita said they asked her questions like, “Grandma, how do you think Cole did tonight?” and “How proud are you of Cole?” Nita described her answers to these questions as being “over the top.” Then, she says it was “back in the van to go back to the hotel to wait for the contestants to arrive, sometimes a two-hour wait. We got to have dinner with Cole and listen to all the amazing things he and the other contestants did that day before it was time to get a little sleep before another day of the same ‘hurry up and wait.’ The second night is when we learned if Cole had advanced to the next week. It was brutal, sitting, waiting for them to say, ‘America has voted, to advance to the next week—COLE VOSBURY!’” This grandma loved to hear the crowd going wild. It is her personal, if not necessarily unbiased opinion that Cole was a crowd favorite. After each win, it meant another week with The Voice so she could finally relax—for a few days. Following the Tuesday show, it was back to the van, the trip to the hotel and dinner with Cole again. Wednesday mornings started at 6 a.m. when family members were taken to the airport for the flight home. “I got to stay home three days to rest, do laundry, pack, and catch up with things, and then Sunday it started all over again. I had to have somebody take care of my dogs while I was gone,” Nita shared. “Cole has had so much love shown him from his hometown. There were several casinos, bars, and restaurants that had viewing parties every time he was on. He was all
over the news and newspapers nearly every day covering his journey, even the stations that are in competition with NBC. It was awesome!” “As I said, it was pretty exhausting for me, but I know those kids were tired, too. They did so many things besides just practicing their songs. Behind the scenes they made a lot of videos every day to promote the show, practiced their group songs, wardrobe, makeup, choreography, etc.” “I am afraid I am not as young as I used to be, seeing as how I am almost 77 years old. All of the contestants, the parents, and staff called me ‘Grandma.’ I am very humbled and honored that I was tagged ‘America’s Grandma.’ How cool is that? Cole didn’t win the final, but he has made important contacts in the music industry.” “I want to sincerely thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the support and votes they gave to Cole. He is also humbled, and gives God the glory for the response he received from all over the world and other countries, especially Canada—citizens who could not even vote. And, he sang The National Anthem at The Independence Bowl football game. What an honor!”
Lauri & Cole
Nita & Cole
Riding a Bicycle At the age of six, my father reclaimed, rebuilt, and painted “Black Beauty,” my first bicycle. New bicycles were not to be had because we were embroiled in a horrid war which our entire nation wanted to (and did) win. From then until the age of eighteen when I enlisted in the U.S. Navy, I was never without a bicycle, and even during my nine years of active naval duty I managed to ride one whenever I had a chance. Even as recently as thirty years ago, I spent hours riding around the neighborhood with my son and daughter. Then, for some reason such as trying to make a living, I ceased bicycling other than on the stationary ones at the gym. Actually, it was the jogging and walking required in earning the balance of my military retirement in the reserves that took its place. Finding myself in serious need of some sort of exercise, last week I went out and bought a new 21-speed bike. What in the heck do you need 21 speeds for? But it was on sale and I knew that at my age, I would need a little help pulling hills that a single speed couldn’t give me.
By Chuck Lambert
Well, I didn’t forget how to ride one; what I did fail to remember is how huge an SUV looks as it flashes past within two feet. I also didn’t realize how quiet cars have suddenly become...uhh, okay, my hearing ain’t what it used to be. Even before I managed to get that thing back into my driveway, a shivering, quivering wreck (me, not the bike), I had begun the decision process: 1. Should I take it back and get a refund (the most prominent choice at the moment); 2. Should I go try to find some really big mirrors and hearing aids; or 3. Should I choose number one and go on a tour of retirement centers?
MoveMama OverCame Boys... to Hunt!
Truck lights surround Chandler’s Black Lodge lighting up the dark morning sky. Although it’s only 5 a.m. the place is bustling with excitement. Though very small and old, the structure has been sitting on the edge of Black Lake since the early 1920s when Bonnie and Clyde would stop in for refreshment. The cellar where prohibition whiskey was stored is still intact. No doubt, Chandler’s has a colorful history. This morning is no different from numerous others when deer hunters gather to visit and drink coffee before the hunt begins. Men of varying ages, dressed in all sorts of hunting attire arrive in four-wheel drive trucks and jeeps. Laughter can be heard as we near the building. Entering we hear Junior calling, “Hey, Boy!” My husband, Ben, answers for all to hear, “Today is the day I’m going to kill that trophy buck.” Amidst the laughter, someone shouts, “You couldn’t hit him when he was close enough to kiss you.” I laugh too and move on to the counter to speak to Carol, the young woman who manages the lodge. She just tunes the guys out. All the hunters are nice to me, but I’m really just peripheral for the unstated rule is ‘women should be seen and rarely heard.’ I sit quietly enjoying my coffee listening to the men. They would never admit that they gossip, but now they are talking about poor Bubba who can’t hunt because his wife just won’t let him out of the house. The last time he hunted he was so anxious to get home that he dropped his new radio in a mud puddle and ruined it. Afraid to tell her, he bought a new one before returning home. A shout announces that it’s time to get to the woods. My husband hurries me back to the truck. Imagine him rushing me as if I’m the one who has been wasting time! There he begins his usual lecture telling me to walk quietly and not make noise getting into my tree stand. Arriving at the gathering site in the woods, I am in no hurry to get out because the men build a fire to stand around and begin the same banter. I listen to the same stories again. “Ed shot at a big buck last week from his stand but missed him because the wind was blowing too hard. Bill did not sit in his stand so Louis did. He shot at two buck but missed them.” Just as quickly as we arrive, we are ready to move again. The four-wheeler motors begin to hum which is
By Bonita Bandaries
my cue to get ready. Ben hurries me onto the back of our four-wheeler and off we go. As we bounce our way down the winding path, he again gives me instructions. Stopping several hundred yards from the stand he lets me off to walk the rest of the way because the deer might hear the motor. Armed with gun, shells, and coffee thermos, I continue in the dark on foot to find the stand. Climbing the ladder quietly to my loft in the tree I wonder if the deer can hear my heart beating. The drama of waiting for the illusive deer to appear is exhilarating. The discomfort of the elements is forgotten as the sun rises and birds and other creatures usher in a new day. Sometime later shots ring out indicating a hunter has usually bagged a deer. Everyone locates him and gathers round the deer to admire and compare horns with those of the legendary big bucks still roaming. Soon we all return to Chandler’s to show off the deer and take the lucky hunter’s picture which will hang on the bulletin board for all to see. Afternoon finds us back in our places in the woods. After sundown, everyone busily prepares for the next day. Bedtime comes soon after dinner since the alarm will sound at 4:30 am. Waking to the smell of coffee brewing, I will hear the men laughing and swapping stories—the same ones that I now know by heart.
Bonita killed The Big Buck one year and won a contest in Natchitoches Parish. The deer is mounted and hangs on her wall.
Acupuncture Acupuncture results are immediate and cover such a wide range of ailments that its popularity is increasing at a phenomenal rate. Such conditions as myofascial pain, tennis elbow and musculoskeletal conditions including back pain and Fibromyalgia are often treated with anti-inflammatory medications or with steroid injections, both of which have a potential for undesirable side effects. Acupuncture works as a safe, effective alternative and natural approach to healing such conditions. More and more rheumatologists and pain specialists are making referrals to practitioners of acupuncture. Other areas where acupuncture is recognized for having high success rates is in adult postoperative, chemotherapy nausea, headaches, asthma, diabetes and addictions. The general theory of acupuncture is based on the premise that patterns of energy flow (Qi) through the body. Disruptions of this flow are believed to be responsible for disease. The purpose of acupuncture is to correct imbalances of flow at identifiable points close to the skin. Also described as the Yin and Yang, this refers to the constant state of dynamic balance of all parts and functions of the body. No organ is seen as an isolated problem, but is part of the whole body system. Among several current theories on the mechanism of acupuncture is the Neurotransmitter Theory which concludes that acupuncture affects higher brain areas, stimulating the secretion of beta-endorphins and enkephalins in the brain and spinal cord. The release of neurotransmitters influences the immune system and the antinociceptive system. Dr. Zhong, Dr. Ellen and their associates have been treating people in North Louisiana and east Texas for so many years that they spend one weekend a month in Carthage, Texas so patients don’t have to drive all the way to Houston for acupuncture. (See ad on page 10.) Spring 2014
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“It’s all about us” The locals’ guide to events, people, & items of interest in & around our area.
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Did the Jewish People Reject Jesus? Truth can be an elusive thing. We could say that it is often like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. I have never actually looked for a needle in a haystack, and do not know anyone who has. It occurs to me however that if one were to undertake such an endeavor there are at least a couple of things that would be of utmost importance. First is that we are sure, beyond all doubt, that the needle is actually in the haystack. Secondly, that finding the needle is going to be worth the considerable time and effort involved. I approach Bible study much the same way. First, I am certain beyond all doubt that the truth I seek is there and secondly that wading through and discarding all of the myths, traditions of men, and outright false teachings is definitely worth the effort. Regardless of which church, denomination, or belief system you have been exposed to, the likelihood is that you have been taught that the Jewish people rejected Jesus Christ as the Messiah and therefore God cast them away and replaced His chosen people with the Gentile Church. That has been the “accepted” teaching in what is known as Christianity for some 1700 years. The problem is that like so many other things we believe the Bible teaches; it is just not true. And, unlike much of deeper Biblical truth, this does not require any digging. All we have to do is remove our prejudiced bifocals and read the Word through clear lenses. Look at the Gospel of John, Chapter 11:47-53. This passage comes just after Christ raised Lazarus from the dead and some who had witnessed it reported to the Pharisees. “Then gathered the chief priests and the Pharisees a council, and said, What do we? For this man doeth many miracles. If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him; and the Romans shall come and take away both our place and nation. “And one of them, named Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, Ye know nothing at all. Now consider that it is expedient for us, that one 30
By Steve Rainey
man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not. “And this spake he not of himself: but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus should die for that nation; And not for that nation only, but that also he should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad. “Then from that day forth they took council together for to put him to death.” The astonishing thing to me is that without having to dig for it, the truth is here in plain view for anyone who would look for it. The Jewish people were not rejecting Jesus! In fact the plot to falsely accuse Him and have Him put to death was for the exact opposite reason! Plainly, if the religious leaders and politicians had left Jesus alone ALL would have believed on Him, and Rome would have taken away their place and nation. Now what is not likely clear to the average Bible student is what Caiaphas meant by “our place.” Caiaphas served as high priest from 18 AD-37AD. He was the son-in-law of Annas, who served as high priest before him. You will see in John 18:13 that Annas played a role in the trial and condemning of Jesus. There can be no doubt that the two collaborated in falsely accusing Jesus of blasphemy which called for the death penalty. Why? Because their position in the priesthood was a political appointment by Rome. They were not in the priestly line ordained by God. Herod the Great, who reigned from 37 BCE – 4 BCE had driven out the priestly line and replaced them with puppets he could control. It was for this reason Caiaphas thought that if the people followed Christ the Messiah there would be a revolt against Roman rule, and Rome would replace him if he could not maintain control over the people. There is much more that I could write about this topic but space limitations prevail. My hope is that just this one false perception will cause you to be as the Bereans of Acts 17:10-11, who “searched the scriptures daily, to see whether these things were so.” No, the Jews did not reject Jesus. Jesus rejected the Kingship! This
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false teaching, that the Jewish nation rejected and crucified Christ, has been the cause of anti-Semitism and terrible persecution against the Jewish people for nearly 2000 years! Some will say, “They called for Barabbas instead of Jesus when Pilate wanted to set him free.” Yes, but that was not the Jewish nation, but likely a crowd who had been deceived by the likes of Caiaphas and his father-in-law, Annas. And even then they said, “Give us Barabbas!” whose name means “son of the father.” But that is for deeper study and must wait for a future time. About the Author: If you would be interested in attending one of the Shreveport Bible studies taught by Steve Rainey, contact him at (903) 796-4182 or (941) 961-0357. He lives in the East Texas area, and is willing to travel free of charge.
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By Elaine Marze
Unfortunately, the list of widows has grown steadily since the last issue of Prime Time. Three of my friends were made widows in one week! I keep saying I’m going to stop writing this column, but then I hear from folks who say it helps them on several different levels, mainly knowing they are not alone in how they are feeling so... The most often asked question I get is: “Is the pain going to go away?” My personal experience is that the fresh pangs of death will dull, but about that time, it sinks in that this loneliness, the void where your companion, friend, lover, and supporter used to be—this is your life now and possibly forever. The truth is harsh because there is an idea in our mental makeup that tells us we’ll live happily ever after with our Prince Charming, and you only have to talk to a long-time widow to find out that a future alone is a definite possibility. One new widow, awakened by a friend who put a hand on her shoulder, grabbed that hand and held on, thinking that it was her husband and his death had been a bad dream. Those dreams post-widowhood can be boogers because they are so real that you wake feeling happy relief until the reality sets in. Several dreamers say that they dread the “witching hours” of sleep because that’s when their late mates visit them alive and well, only to awake again to the painful truth. More than a few people say they rely heavily on sleep and anxiety drugs because they don’t want to dream. I hear over and over how some left-behind spouses refuse to leave their homes because to be in public means seeing women link arms with a man or watch a wife walk up and nonchalantly slip her hand into her husband’s hand—like we used to do. The pain of missing such simple touches hurts too much so they exile themselves. I also feel the loss when I see couples holding hands because I drew strength, confidence and contentment through my husband’s touch, but if we are still here, there is a reason, and it is a waste of life if we don’t live it to the fullest. From the time I left the cemetery I forced myself to get out, go and do, because survivors have an obligation to live the gift of life. I don’t want to be known as the walking dead, and every week I talk to those left behind who are breathing but they aren’t living. One woman lost her husband eight years ago and was lamenting the fact that she has no friends or family who want to be around her, and I suggested that it may be because she is depressing as 32
heck to be around. It was a revelation to her that people don’t want to constantly (emphasis on “constantly”) hear whining, self-pitying, and grieving. We all have different triggers that stirs the grief up, and it helps to recognize what activates your sadness so you can avoid situations or at least face them head on. One of my grief-triggers is seeing couples pass by in motor homes. Wham! Memories of what once was and thoughts of what should still be! Sometimes I cry, but it helps me get past the sadness by praying for those strangers that they will live long lives together and appreciate each other. Find what helps you get past the trigger and determine that you are going to survive in heart and mind as well as body. Find somebody worse off than yourself, and minister to them. Depression can be selfish, and I realize that statement is going to get me some angry feedback, and professionals are the proper ones to be giving advice, but…I stand by my observation. Even though you still have to come home to an empty house, you really can be a happier lonely person if you open your heart and life to others.
I Didn’t Ask for This! After being married to the same man for nearly 40 years, I found myself at a place I hadn’t wanted to be, hadn’t asked to be, and hadn’t planned to be. The physical loss of my love, my hero, my best friend, was devastating, but the fear of a future without him is terrifying. All our hopes, dreams, and plans are gone!
A nice gift for any widow or widower Elaine’s book Widowhood can be ordered at any bookstore. Schedule a book signing by e-mailing Elaine at email@example.com.
How Flowers Produce Sound By irvProduce Heard How Flowers Sound
By Irv Heard
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Special Neighbors After my late firefighter hubby retired we lived in four states in a ten-year period. His Daniel Boone / John Wayne psyche kicked in, and he wanted to move to the mountains where he could bear and elk hunt, go on cattledrives, and be far, far away from the public. Being the submissive, dutiful wife that I am, I went along with his testosterone-driven plans to the extent that I found myself living in a log cabin over 10,000 feet elevation in Colorado where there were no utilities, no mail-service, no cell signal, not even an address or school-bus route. Our dirt road was five miles long, and so rough that we could look off down the mountain to see visitors coming. I had time to bake a cake with my solar-powered stove before they made it to the porch! But since this is not a pioneering story, but a tale of neighbors, I’m going to skip right to the point and share about how a wild, fierce giant of a mountain man wearing double-holstered 45-caliber pistols knocked on my door one day while Mr. Frontiersman was off hunting. This man only bathed in the summer (he told me so), and he lived in a pick-up truck camper with his wolf companions somewhere higher up in the Sangres that he described as being in the “neighborhood,” using that word in the loosest sense. Now, most people don’t know it, but in Colorado it is against the law to let people share your water. Even the churches in town can be fined if they let farmers fill their tanks during droughts. (Many trucks have plastic water tanks in their beds because there is usually a shortage of water.) The wild man introduced himself as “Crazy Wayne” and proceeded to ask me what kind of neighbors we were going to be: “Do you turn people in to Wildlife & Fisheries?” “Do y’all mind your business or stick your nose where it might get blown off?” “How do you feel about the government wanting to take our guns and ammo?” You get the drift, I hope, because he was pretty intimidating, but when I assured him that we minded our business, hadn’t reported anybody to authorities that I could remember, etc., he seemed much happier than when he’d come in. I had the feeling that we were on our way to being friends (despite his heavy body odor and the wolf growling at his feet) because he then asked me if anybody was bothering me. “Cause if they are, you let me know because there are places in these mountains where nobody will ever find the bodies!” Crazy Wayne assured me. “Anybody gives you any trouble, you just let me know! I’ll take care of them—for good! I know how to make them disappear forever!” Startled, I gave a weak laugh thinking he was joking,
By Elaine Marze
but I quickly realized Crazy Wayne was deadly serious so I said, “I’m good. No problems with anybody right now.” This is when he informed me that he’d been filling his water tank from the spring on our land for 20 years, and he wanted to keep getting it since it was the only spring in the area. “But you know it’s against the law for you to let me take the water, so are you going to let me have it or not?” What could I say? He knew where to make bodies disappear! “Hey, we’re neighbors,” I said, “You get water anytime you want to. We’ll take our chances with the law.” And, for the three years we lived in the Sangre de Christos Mountains, we would see a light down at the spring around two or three o’clock in the mornings, and it would be Crazy Wayne with a couple of his wolves standing guard, filling up his water tank. He never came during the day because “government men were watching.” In the warm weather he would strip naked and bathe in the pond. Occasionally he would come by and ask me if anybody was bothering me, and I was very careful to tell him everybody was great. Though I may have mentioned to my husband a time or two that he’d best stay on my good side lest I complain to Crazy Wayne!
How Flowers How Flowers Produce Sound
Produce Sound By irv Heard
Answers to puzzle on previous page.
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