Still a Long Road to Travel

It’s a Monday and I’m dead tired as usual. Things have moved ahead of schedule in regards to my father’s cancer treatment. His last chemotherapy session was canceled last Thursday so he is done after five rounds of the misery. Now we are waiting on the GI specialists so that something can be done about his nonfunctional stomach.

In fact, that’s why we asked to have the last round of chemo canceled. Dad has hit the wall in putting up with not being able to eat, spending half his life hooked up to the feeding machine, and choking constantly on phlegm or reflux. Getting stronger for whichever surgery is decided on is a must and he’s lost too much ground already.

Now he has a chance to recover, if he’d stop over exerting himself. It takes next to nothing to do so, yet he gets delusions of being able to do things like mow grass with the push mower. Of course that results in him getting weaker and crankier, setting off another cycle of difficulty for him.

Boy’s cancer a fight between good and evil

Boy’s cancer a fight between good and evil

I am friends of the Kuglers and have to say that Jonas is even more impressive in person. He has handled the whole ordeal incredibly well given his age. Watching the whole family deal with this has impressed me greatly -- they are amazing folks.

Captain Al

Continuing a series of posts about my late friend, Al Ulven.

As I've written before, Al loved to have fun and was pretty good at making his own if there wasn't any already in sight.  That skill served his desire for entertainment well, even as it occasionally exasperated others. Some of my more exasperated moments came as a direct result of Al fulfilling his retirement dream of owning his own boat.

I can remember him calling to say he had bought a boat which turned out to be a used Bayliner 2155 21" cruiser with trailer.  My father and I went to see Al's dream and Al gleefully showed off his first command -- Captain Al had been born. He even had a captains hat with the golden scramble eggs. It didn't phase Al that he didn't know much about boating or safety regulations. What mattered is that he had his ticket to fun in the sun on the Mississippi River.

It was love at first sight when Captain Al found his Bayliner and he adored the vessel over the years he owned it, though maintenance was far from his strong point.  It gradually faded from its initial glory, as he didn't have enough crew to regularly swab the decks and Al was slowing down a lot. We ended up assisting him on that and my dad did most of the maintenance work, especially during the spring and autumn when the Bayliner was either coming out of storage or going into storage.

While Al may have been slowing down physically, there was one thing he always liked:  moving at high speeds.  Fast cars entranced him, but were a little scary for him personally.  But the river looked open for miles upon miles and there he could race the wind.  At least until his deteriorating eyesite scared him one too many times.  More than once he had me get the Bayliner planing at high speed and enjoyed the ride, his face red from the wind and laughing gleefully the entire time.

On that image, I'm going to finish, for his various adventures on water require their own entries into the log.

Adventures with Al, Part 2

Traveling with Al Ulven could get interesting at times, as a previous post showed. Reaching back into the murky depths of my childhood memories, there was one time that I wish I remembered more about. That was the mid-1970's expedition to the upper peninsula of Michigan to visit my half-brother Jud and his first wife, Therese. They lived up in the Houghton-Hancock area and for some reason Al decided to go with us. Perhaps he wanted to see the mining ranges up there, as he always had a curiosity about anything involving trade history around the Great Lakes. Curiosity has been said to kill the proverbial cat and Al was filled with curiosity about many things. In this case, it wasn't fatal but it certainly led him into a little trouble.

Somewhere just across the border into Michigan, a decision was made to take a short cut involving a back road that was parallel with the main highway. I do not know who made the decision, but with my father and Al being the only drivers, my suspicions lie with one or both. Back roads can be very inviting, offering scenery and local color you otherwise zoom past. Al loved back roads and my father's shortcuts were a subject of family legend. My late mother would have remembered whom to blame, no doubt.

While back roads can be enjoyable in good weather, taking them after major storms can get tricky. We got far enough to be in the middle of nowhere when the car ceased all forward movement. I'd say this is my first memory of mud so deep it sucked shoes off and stopped a car in its deep, deep tracks. The four of us piled out of the car and surveyed the muck after multiple failed attempts to get free. It was not taking us anywhere.

After some literal head scratching, Al and my dad tried to push it out. That did nothing but give everyone muddy pants legs, adding to the growing misery. Didn't seem to phase Al one bit though. There is an image in my mind of him sitting on the car, smiling despite the heat and dire predicament.

Hours went by, long hours. At some point, a decision was reached and a search began along the roadside. Some distance down the road, some old boards from a broken down fence were found and quickly brought back to the embedded car. After a few tries, the car finally found its caked wheels meeting dry road and we continued on. Al's laughter as we finally got going still lingers, for he'd won one of his small victories in life. It was something I'd get used to over the years.

Adventures with Al, Part 1

Knowing Al Ulven was a unique experience, I think many will agree on that. For me, this was mainly due to his way of turning little chores into somewhat epic quests on many an occasion. This always was accompanied by an absolute cheerful optimism that everything would work out the way he planned it, even if it didn't.

Some of my earliest memories of Al revolve around Ulven Drugs, his drugstore in Spring Grove, Minnesota. For a little kid in the early single digits of life, it was a place of wonder. We lived in a rented house out in the countryside and didn't have a lot, so going to town was a big deal. Being the early 1970's, Al's pharmacy wasn't just there to dispense medicines, it was partly a general store. It had one of the most impressive arrays of candy I'd ever encountered in my short life, toys, greeting cards, office supplies, and best of all -- comic books!

Al was a cheerful presence there, always knowing everyone's name and story, making what was normally a chore seem like entertainment. One thing that defined him was his ability to make his own fun, no matter the circumstances. The best part of it was that Al shared the fun with those around him.

One such occasion was a night time trip around Christmas, where we were taken to the mysterious and previously unseen bowels of the drug store. In other words, the basement where he kept merchandise. The shelves towered over me and were quite amazing, it was hard to imagine so much stuff in one place.

To my surprise and delight, Al informed my family that I could choose a toy from those on the shelves. I don't remember what it was that I chose, other than it was a pull toy of some kind (yes I was that young). There was a kind of joyful magic to all of this and that is what stuck in my head, not the toy itself.

It is my earliest concrete memory of Al, little did I know there would be more memorable moments involving the small town pharmacist.

Our Pal Al

My father and I went out tonight to eat, gather in some groceries, and possibly visit an ailing friend. When we got to the nursing home, I spotted a gurney being prepared next to a van/hearse. It was then that I knew we were too late and sure enough our friend Ellsworth "Al" Ulven had passed away a matter of minutes before.

Al befriended our family in the early 1970's and our families did a lot together over the years. As time went by he became a bachelor again and my parents continued to play three handed Spades with him. When I got older, I found myself roped into different misadventures with him at the beginning of the decade onward.

One memorable misadventure was assisting Al in retrieving the trailer to his beloved boat that he acquired after retirement. This little escapade involved sneaking the trailer through back roads, as he decided to pull the empty monstrosity with his battered old station wagon. While it had a hitch, there was no provision for wiring the lights, which meant it shouldn't be on the road. That meant sneaking around on back roads, mostly gravel, in a station wagon that acted like it was going to die at any moment.

Compounding the problem was that it was a 95 degree day, with humidity around 98 percent. As the exhausted car pulled the heavy trailer, it became too much for the engine and it began to overheat in a very serious way. That did not deter Al, for very little could once he decided to do something. At first, we pulled over and turned the car off to cool the engine, then started uphill again. The overheating came back with a vengeance.

So I recommended lowering the windows and cranking the heater all the way up, an old car trick I'd learned from a TV show on restoring autos. That helped somewhat, but it wasn't comfortable. Then the rain began. Only so much water was allowed in before we had to raise the windows and only so much suffocating heat could be tolerated before we had to lower them again. This went on for an agonizing hour, as we could only make about 20 mph at best in the hills. Often we were creeping at a much slower pace.

None of this phased Al in the slightest.

Eventually, a real thunderstorm passed through that forced us to the side of the road. We waited it out and after it had passed, the temperature had dropped radically, giving the car cool enough air that it could labor home.

After we backed the trailer into his yard, Al turned to me and cheerfully said, "Pat, my boy, we made it!" followed by one of his satisfied chuckles.

That was Al.

My Friend Ron

I had intended to finish covering the disaster that befell the area I live in, but as so often happens in life other events derailed my plans. In this case, unwelcome but not unexpected events. So I find myself writing about a friend.

Shortly after I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in December of 2003, I was sitting in a priesthood meeting and noticed someone being wheeled in. There were obvious deformities to his face and head, the kind that surgeries cause. It was the first time I'd seen the steps convert to a lift and I wondered about the man who had just joined us. Being a new member, I was still finding my way and didn't approach him after the meeting ended. In retrospect, I regret that because I lost a little more time with a friend.

I slowly got to know him and it began with helping with the lift or pushing him in the wheelchair, I don't remember clearly which. Another friend told me Ron was his name and he'd been through some horrific surgeries in addition to his disabilities. On occasion I would visit him with the full time missionaries. I found that while Ron had trouble seeing and hearing, there was a bright intelligence quietly burning there and it usually manifested itself as a wicked sense of humor.

One Sunday, we were notified by our leadership that Ron needed a ride to appointments at Mayo Clinic, as his wife Colleen had fallen ill and couldn't drive. Being in Rochester, MN, Mayo is at the limits of my driving range due to my disability and so I waited to hear someone volunteer to take him. Long moments passed and nobody volunteered, so I did, feeling a little frustrated that there was no other. But if I hadn't, I wouldn't have really gotten to know him.

Fortunately for me, Ron had a great sense of direction and guided me easily to Mayo, me being a rookie driver on top of everything else. Didn't save us in the elevators, I still managed to get us to the wrong floor much to his amusement. That sense of humor, that wonderful willingness to look on the silly side of life while confronting constant adversity was Ron's defining trait, along with a truly huge, loving heart. We wrapped up that little adventure with a stop at Red Lobster. Oddly enough, it was all you could eat shrimp that day and I suspect Ron knew that all along. It was then I discovered his major addictions in life, Mountain Dew and shrimp. The latter I have in common with him, so we ended up eating ourselves sick, sampling every way the restaurant prepared those delicious crustaceans. To my chagrin, the very cute waitress paid more attention to him than me, but that was the effect Ron always had.

Later on, it was my pleasure to serve alongside him in the Branch clerk's office. People thought we were doing important work back there, but in reality we were goofing off. It wasn't that we didn't take our responsibilities seriously, it was just what would happen if we were left alone together. One thing that some people didn't realize about Ron was his dedication to helping others and carrying out his duties. I remember coming in and finding him going through the software tutorials that I struggled to get anyone else to train with. He always wanted to help, to actually do even when his body kept betraying him.

Above all else, Ron was a good man and never a truer warrior could you meet. His faith was strong and I think that is how he survived so many surgeries, more than anyone should ever have to have. His was a truly Christlike life, filled with love and charity toward others. Ron's obituary covers this well:

Ronald Lee Neinast

Ronald Lee Neinast, 54, of La Crosse passed away Sunday, Aug., 26, 2007,
in La Crosse.

Ronald was born Jan. 22, 1953, to Neil and Phyllis (Peterson) Neinast in Sparta, Wis. He had several birth defects, including an affliction of cerebral palsy.

His parents saw to it that he was involved in play and activities with other children, and stressed education and a strong work ethic. Ronald graduated from Hillsboro (Wis.) High School in 1971 and later graduated from Western Technical College with an associate degree in accounting and business administration.

Ronald worked at Gambles Store in Hillsboro, Hillsboro Equipment Inc. and Holiday Inns in Tomah, Wis., and Madison. In 1983, Ron suffered a brain stem stroke, which forced him to quit working.

During his life, Ron had more than 30 surgeries, including two heart surgeries in one day, suffered several broken bones in his arms and legs, and besides cerebral palsy was diagnosed with diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis and skin cancer. He also battled tumors.

His doctors have stated that he was a medical wonder with a positive attitude throughout all that he endured. He fought the good fight, and was a hero to many
people and was admired by them.

In spite of many illnesses, Ron worked as a volunteer at Gundersen Lutheran Medical Center, which he began in 1986, and in April 2006 was awarded his 10,000-hour pin.An advocate for the elderly and the disabled in the Greater La Crosse area, he was president of the City of La Crosse Disabled Parking Enforcement Assistance Council for the La Crosse police department, a position appointed by the mayor and the city council.

He was a member of the MTU-ADA and Mini Bus committees, and was transportation coordinator for the Greater La Crosse area. He was a member of the Oktoberfest Parade Committee, a volunteer for Easter Seals Lily Days, and was very active in his church as a greeter, priest and branch clerk. Ron was a member of the Happy Go Lucky Club since 1987, and currently was its president. He re-wrote the club’s bylaws.

In June 2002, Ron married the love of his life, Colleen (Sullivan) Sowa. Ron was preceded in death by his parents. Surviving him are his wife, Colleen; a daughter, Noel (Sullivan-Sowa) Van Blaricome and her husband, Jeffrey; three grandchildren, Gavin, Genevieve and Ashton; two sisters, Kathy (Archie) Crawford and Sharon (Russell) Daines II; two brothers, Dale (Marybeth) Neinast and Neil (Chris) Neinast; many nieces and nephews; aunts, uncles and cousins; and many friends.

Ron was an inspiration to me, whenever I felt down about my lot in life, I'd think about him and the trials he was going through -- and what tremendous grace he showed in handling them. Especially at the end, when things were getting worse and worse, he still kept fighting on. His spirit shone so brightly and I often think that no mortal body could house a soul that burned so brightly without failing. I wish I could have been there for him more often and been a better friend. When the time comes for me to depart this mortal realm, I'll challenge him to a foot race. I suspect he'll win.

He is missed.