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2007

The bears had a big welcome home party for Bing. Alien Poo had a rough
time at the airport. The security people kept saying "but you don't
look pooish" and trying to deport her to Area 51. Bing finally vouched
for her and got her into SD. As you can see from the attached picture,
so far so good. As you can see, the guys are all watching the football game.
The fourth quarter of the Seattle-Dallas game has had some really
strange plays.

To Absent Companions

As some of you know, this has not been a good year in the cave. First, Papa Bear died. Then, shirttail relations caused so much fuss about some of our posts that we had to move from the West Facing Cave to the Westward Facing Cave. The tipping point for the year occurred today when Little Ann, official mascot of the WFC, had to be put to sleep. She had cancer and, while she would have fought it to the bitter end, deserved better than debilitation and pain that inevitably would have come. I will talk more about her later, but this is more about absent companions.

When military men gather, there is a ritual toast "to absent companions and fallen comrades." Although not part of the ritual, the moments following the toast are always given to very quiet reflection as the missing parade in memory. By the time I got back to the cave from work I was thinking about absent companions and fallen comrades. I poured a shot of aquavit and a glass of beer, walked out onto the balcony and toasted those absent companions.

There are people in your life that you don't truly appreciate until they are gone. For me, the list is relatively short.

Papa Bear. As I said after he died, I was very fortunate to spend time with my father when I was young and more fortunate to be able to spend a little time with him in the years before he died. Although it was never said, I think he knew how much he meant to me.

My father in law, Robert Grismore, was a quiet, unassuming man, a dependable man, a friendly man, the sort of man that people don't truly appreciate until they see the size of the hole left in their lives after he is gone. He could and would talk to anyone and was truly interested in what they had to say. I knew him for almost 40 years and never saw him lose his temper. He could always be counted on to do the right thing. It is hard to think of him as being gone.

My grandfather, W. A. Vance, was the finest man I have ever met. Born in the 19th century, he was a stoic, hard working farmer with an incredibly dry sense of humor. He was the epitome of a Christian gentleman. I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone nor saw him do an unkind thing. No matter what life brought him, he got up each morning and did what needed to be done. I wish that I could have been more like him.

My great uncle Junius Vance was the baby of his family and had an infectious sense of humor. Although he was relatively short, he was incredibly strong. I used to watch him heft 12o pound bales of clover over his head with his left hand to stack the bales during haying season. Uncle June improved the mood of any room he entered.

My great uncle, Joseph Vance, was gruff out of necessity. His heart was so tender that he had to shield it with a crusty exterior. I always liked him.

Standing on the balcony, seeing their faces one by one, I knew my life was better for having known them and that I would always miss them.

To absent companions.

Poppa Bear is Gone

Dr. William Allison Vance junior
6 June 1926 - 11 July 2006

Dad had a heart attack this morning and died alone at Cedar Ridge. He had called John to tell him he was not feeling well and by the time John got there, he was dead. He will be missed.

I was lucky, as his oldest son, to spend a lot of time with him while I was growing up. I got to go fishing with him, rabbit hunting with him in the winter, and pheasant hunting with Dad, Grandpa, and Dad's uncles, June and Joe. I was the one who got to stand around and hand him his tools as he worked. Dad was a perfectionist. He demanded it of himself and expected it in others. I think I disappointed him a lot as a boy. Dad worked harder than any man I have ever met. While he was building his practice, he would go to work at 6 in the morning and come home at 6 or 7 every night. And then he would make housecalls. He was active in many different fraternal organizations, including the Lions, High Twelve, and all the branches of Masonry, Blue Lodge, Chapter, Commandery, York Rite, Scottish Rite, and Shrine. He was networking before it was called networking. I don't think Mom ever understood that he was building his practice and our economic well being. But I learned from Dad and Grandpa what it meant to be a man. You make mistakes, but you go out every day and do the best that you can do.

After I went away to college, we sort of, in the natural order of things, drifted apart. I got married and had my own wife and sons to fill my time. The Air Force and work kept me far enough away that visits were few and far between. Dad, like me, was not given to writing letters, so the years flew by.

One of the more fortunate things that happened along the way was a celebration of Dad's 75th birthday at Cedar Ridge in 2001. It caught me up short, because in my mind's eye, Dad was still 35 even though I was by then 53. My brothers and I gathered at the Ridge and remarked that it was nice to get together for something other than a marriage or a funeral. We played croquet and had a thoroughly pleasant time. I offered to fly Dad and his wife, Lee, to San Diego if they wanted. Fortunately, they accepted and came out to visit. Dad was enchanted with SD and came out several more times to stay for as long as he could get a kitchen pass, usually a week to 10 days at a time.

He loved Point Loma, a peninsula that forms the entrance to San Diego Bay. We would go two or three times every time he visited. He would sit for hours and watch the sailboats in the bay and just marvel at the many moods and colors of the Pacific. We made a point of going to Pacific Beach almost every day when he visited, although some days Dad would just visit the hot tub at the apartment complex and relax. He also liked the harbor.




















Dad was here when Quentin became a Marine. I don't know who enjoyed it more.




















On Dad's last visit to San Diego, we went to Mt Palomar to see the observatory. Dad also loved the Jacaranda trees with their purple blooms.













After Lee had her heart attack, Dad felt compelled to stay at Cedar Ridge. Her heart attack was a near thing, had Dad not been there, she would have died. As he always did, he subordinated what he wanted to do to what he felt he had to do.

Fortunately, my business took me to Cedar Rapids and we were able to gather at Lon's in North Liberty to play croquet and pinochle. We were able to get together three times and it was good. The last time was for Dad's 80th birthday. For a variety of reasons, we got together on Wednesday the 5th instead of on his birthday. Dave was able to come up from Florida so five of us were together. Only Don was missing, something that I think he will regret until his dying day.

But as you can see, Dad was having a good day.

But then, so did we. This is the last photo of all of us together.



















Today God called Dad from labor to rest. Farewell and Godspeed, Dad.


















May flights of angels sing you to rest and welcome you home. God willing, we'll meet again.



















You will be missed.

Bears Take an Iowa Road Trip

The bears went to Iowa to visit these guys, Lon Vance, John Vance, and the Papa Bear. As you can see from their smiles, a little croquet was played on a fine Iowa Spring day.





Guess who was winning.

















Some pinochle was also played. Rodney showed up too late to be in the croquet pictures, although he acquitted himself well on the court.










As you can see from the picture, he did pretty well in pinochle as well.









Although not as good as some. The bar was set pretty high.

HI

Hi there, bear fans. Long time, no see. Well, actually, I could see. It is just that we weren't seeing each other - at least here in the cave. The trip to the South Pole to see my buds - the penquins - was cool though and a good time was had by all. Except Lewis who got a little iceberg sick because he felt he was rotating the wrong way.

We are planning on seeing Ron soon, although we don't know exactly when he will be arriving. We have Bing stationed on the balcony as an early warning system. He will go WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP when he sees the Ron.



As you can see, the elusive Summer Penquin again eluded our camera.

911

Well, after we got the spaghetti cleaned off the wall in the living room - that stuff can fly - we discovered that Sparky had parked so hard at the fire department that he was feeling pretty dizzy, so they called the paramedics who had a really nice girl paramedic with them who cuddled him and brought his blood pressure down. While they were here, one of them also took a look at Bing's sore throat and prescribed ice cream. Since it might be contagious, we are all taking preventative treatments. Since the firemen and paramedics were exposed they joined us and we all ordered six yogurt pizzas from Bogart's - it's a new thing out here. After we ate, most of us sat down to watch some TV but a couple of the fire guys took Sparky and Knute on a tour of fire hydrants. Got to go . . . . Stay calm . . . . stay calm.....

Hello

This is Little Spikey saying hello to you from over there on the side of the page. I am looking around here and thinking, "Gee, got any furniture that needs rearranging?" Okay, maybe I'll read . . . have any new books?

But first I'm going to check the icebox for some sourdough bread for my morning peanut butter sandwich. Hey! Who ate it? Okay, I'm off to Trader Joe's.

Cool pics by the way. Don'tcha like the way the guys disguised the secret entrance? Hahahahahahaha . . . it almost bit him.

Cave Clean-out

Well, the patriarch of the Cedar Ridge Bears flew out this morning. Our North Liberty outpost reported that he arrived in Cedar Rapids on time and somewhat wistful. The WFC is sparkling (well, as much as a cave can sparkle). The PotCRB even rearranged the silverware drawer. Well, just as well. Ron is off to Georgia again on Monday and it is likely that by the time he returns, the cave will need to be cleaned again.

Oh, and CLH, Otter, Bing, Knute, and friends have reemerged and are basking in the warm California sun.

As promised, the pictures are back from the censor. The PotCRB visited an undisclosed location today. However, it does look a lot like Point Loma.






Yes, that looks like the Pacific off in the distance.









From this angle, that looks like the mouth of San Diego harbor. Yes, I would definitely say that the PotCRB was up the Cabrillo National Monument on Point Loma checking for the secret entrance to the WFC. Since the location is classified, we can neither confirm nor deny that he got anywhere near it.