There is a nail at the top of the basement steps. It's just like the old one in the house across the field. This is where my newer "handy cap" hangs.
Early morning in an interesting time. In the mad scramble of jumbled thoughts as one attempts to find that pin point of focus for the activities of the day, there come memories, ambitions, frustrations and concerns. There is family, work, Thanksgiving, welfare, recreation, income vs. out-go, health, memory and hats.
How can you separate one from the other and make your day and your reason for being make sense. Like the Alice of Wonderland you are in a maze of mirrors, trying to find the looking glass to walk through, and knowing that unlike the Mad Hatter you will not be able to balance all of the shapes and styles upon your whirling mind at once.
So, to the nail and the cap. The dogs knew the signal of a bolt sliding in the lock and woke up the neighbors in anticipation of a run in the woods.
The collies led the way in a joyful dash. They had been to the sassafras stump before and were content to lie quietly for the moments the fellow wearing the handy cap seemed to relish as he sat. This morning there was a dew covered spider web and the owner worked back and forth to leave a perfect lacework pattern. The handiwork was perfection and much like others I had seen before. How do they know to follow a path similar to those who have deposited their thread in like fashion over so many years? Nature has such a way of balancing things out...maybe we'd better try to straighten out our own disorganized thinking.
There are bonnets and caps and hats. Some fit and are attractive while others are better relegated to the foot of the basement steps or the corner of the attic.
For years the urge to try on hats has overwhelmed me. There is always a laugh in a hat when it is deposited upon the wrong head.
For a period the LFRA hat was my vocation. It is still one of my strong interests and hopes. The first birthday of the Recreation Register is a happy occasion for me and I join the 75,000 readers of our 140,000 membership in a salute. The long struggle is not over but the vital communication link is alive and rendering great service. For this we can all be thankful.
And on to another hat... This one is the Committee for the Handicapped, People-to-People... This is a mighty comfortable fit. Those who have such a variety of problems make life so worthwhile for all of us. This was the fleeting thought on that sassafras stump and I almost left it there to complete my walk.
Then the colorful leaves and pine needles sifting down told me it was fall...November...the month of Thanksgiving... We gather the family together then...all of us...past and present...the well and strong, the sick and lame, the blind and deaf, the young and the old, the paralyzed and the voiceless... All of us... And we each have a pad and pencil to go with a ten minute time limit. We write down those things for which we are thankful.
This Thanksgiving we are thankful for those who care about the Recreation and Welfare of others. That there is a League and a union of the employee associations. Then we are thankful for those around us who give so much inspiration and make out problems seem so small. I am thankful for the hat of service to the disabled that so many wear, even for just the moment of helping someone up the stairs or across the street.
Before me is the note from the paraplegic who says, "Each person is an individual and we do not sit in our wheelchairs like so many blobs, smiling incessantly...I am not always patient and cheerful...I criticize, I knock, I get mad and swear, I seldom have time to smile..."
I'm wondering how many of us would trade our lives for the life of any other individual we know. Remember, you would be trading all of the life, not part of yours for part of his. Not every lid that fits another man's kettle will go on yours.
All of a sudden the sun is getting brighter; there is no insect in the web and the spider is resting. This is a good time to be saying thanks to --
The God that gave me eyes that I might see,
And ears that I might hear,
A voice that I might tell to all
His story far and near.
To me He gave a heart too full
To pass my brother by,
Two legs, two feet, two arms and hands
To use to serve my fellow man.
A mind, a looking back, a soul set free
Thank God! He gave these gifts to me.
So I my duties must not shirk
For God made man to do His holy work.
The young, the lame, the old and gray,
The boys and girls who cannot play
Extend to us their searching hands.
To know the touch of one who truly understands.
Empathy, compassion we ask of Thee,
To help us do and see
The tasks which Thou hast given
That we might know the taste of Heaven.
I guess I better put my cap back on and go now. It's funny...after a few minutes on the Thanksgiving stump the "handy cap" really feels good when you are relating life to handicapped. I am thankful for my love of hats!
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
Showing posts with label 1970. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1970. Show all posts
August 24, 2009
August 18, 2009
October 1970
It was a massive desk with a thick glass over the entire surface. This was fitting since Dad was a big man in my life, in his work with the government and in physical appearance. Under the glass were three items of interest to a young lad who loved to visit "the office" on a Saturday morning when school was out and federal employees only worked a half day.
After some paperclips, a wide rubber band, and a pencil you could screw the point in and out of had been secured in the deep recesses of corduroy knickers and the ladies of the office had their "making over the boss's kid," I could study that desk top. Prominent was the quotation, "The wheel that does the squeaking is the one that gets the grease." A baby held a bottle over the caption "Milk Makes Men."
There was the young mother in blue and white gingham at the clothes line hanging the beautifully fluffed and I am sure already dry clothes. Those words still drift back: "The clothes line is a rosary of household love and care. Each little saint the mother loves is represented there." That must have included me!
Then, there was the picture of Mr. Lewis. I remember that one the best. In typical executive style, I stretched out in the swivel chair, placed my spindle legs on the glass desk top and leaned back. I was a wheel for a few moments but hadn't counted on some other wheels having to do with the stability of the chair.
As my foot left the desk in somewhat of a hurry, the heel dragged across the glass and much of the black rubber remained to distort the picture of Mr. Lewis. I don't recall that Dad was upset at his son, but I do recollect he was six-six and weighed two-sixty. Somehow the little fellow on the floor always remembered the words of that moment, "Mr. Lewis made his mark, and I reckon the boy wanted to make his."
So much is said, partly in jest and to make conversation, but in the routine and unexciting maze of government service. Perhaps this makes a little story very much in order. My Mother made the long journey just a few weeks ago. She left so much with us, as every mother should. She understood the strength of love and how you gave direction to life with it. So, quite obviously, she would say tell the story about the big man and the little Welsh coal miner from Cumberland.
Dad was bright and finished college in three years. I didn't know until many years after I finished that when you had a high school diploma in his day it meant you started in the sophomore year at college. Anyway, he started farming and became active in the Farm Grange. This farm organization gave support to Dad's contention that shipping costs for farm folks were out of all reason. There was no competition for private rail shipment by one very large company.
With a directing resolution from the Grange the young farmer approached the members of the Congress from Maryland. The only response came from David J. Lewis, a mite of a man stunted by labors in the coal mines of Allegany County. This self-made lawyer with less than a fourth grade education, began nearly a year of research, writing, and developing the case for parcel post legislation. At his side and request there worked a young farmer who was later to become the nation's Assistant Director of the Agricultural Extension Service.
In the midst of the legislative preparation the farmer had his first child. He took time out to give him a name. It was David Lewis, in honor of the little man with whom he walked down Pennsylvania Avenue each Wednesday for some thirty years. After a weekly luncheon the tall man and the almost dwarf relaxed by letting the public gawk as they walked.
The first parcel post bill was enacted into law by the Congress. Mr. Lewis, who later was honored as the Father of Social Security, was first recognized as the Daddy of Parcel Post. There is now among my prized inheritance a copy of that bill with the inscription, "To Reuben Brigham - to whom this legislation owes its life - David J. Lewis."
I went to see Mr. Lewis in Cumberland some years ago. He was in his mid-eighties working in the basement of a law building, and his clothes were wrinkled and spotty. The lawyers upstairs did not want me to go down into the basement retreat. He had failed so. I told them I was his namesake and knew him well. This was my pass key.
He was involved with blocks of wood and a jigsaw. After the warm greeting that was to be our last, he said, "David, they think I'm a little off." Then he explained, "I always wanted to know something about higher math and the books all assume you have had the basics. The only way I can work out the mathematical equations and physics is to cut blocks the way I think and then fit them together to prove the formula."
This was not too important until he added, "David, when you stop appreciating other people and when you stop desiring to improve you own knowledge, the world no longer needs you."
I am glad there is work ahead for all of us, that there is yet knowledge for us to acquire, and that there are people to relate to. Oddly enough the quot next to the Mr. Lewis picture read, "Life is a series of little packages from which the strings are always coming untied." If you can't handle it you might send it Parcel Post.
David Lewis Brigham
Executive Director
After some paperclips, a wide rubber band, and a pencil you could screw the point in and out of had been secured in the deep recesses of corduroy knickers and the ladies of the office had their "making over the boss's kid," I could study that desk top. Prominent was the quotation, "The wheel that does the squeaking is the one that gets the grease." A baby held a bottle over the caption "Milk Makes Men."
There was the young mother in blue and white gingham at the clothes line hanging the beautifully fluffed and I am sure already dry clothes. Those words still drift back: "The clothes line is a rosary of household love and care. Each little saint the mother loves is represented there." That must have included me!
Then, there was the picture of Mr. Lewis. I remember that one the best. In typical executive style, I stretched out in the swivel chair, placed my spindle legs on the glass desk top and leaned back. I was a wheel for a few moments but hadn't counted on some other wheels having to do with the stability of the chair.
As my foot left the desk in somewhat of a hurry, the heel dragged across the glass and much of the black rubber remained to distort the picture of Mr. Lewis. I don't recall that Dad was upset at his son, but I do recollect he was six-six and weighed two-sixty. Somehow the little fellow on the floor always remembered the words of that moment, "Mr. Lewis made his mark, and I reckon the boy wanted to make his."
So much is said, partly in jest and to make conversation, but in the routine and unexciting maze of government service. Perhaps this makes a little story very much in order. My Mother made the long journey just a few weeks ago. She left so much with us, as every mother should. She understood the strength of love and how you gave direction to life with it. So, quite obviously, she would say tell the story about the big man and the little Welsh coal miner from Cumberland.
Dad was bright and finished college in three years. I didn't know until many years after I finished that when you had a high school diploma in his day it meant you started in the sophomore year at college. Anyway, he started farming and became active in the Farm Grange. This farm organization gave support to Dad's contention that shipping costs for farm folks were out of all reason. There was no competition for private rail shipment by one very large company.
With a directing resolution from the Grange the young farmer approached the members of the Congress from Maryland. The only response came from David J. Lewis, a mite of a man stunted by labors in the coal mines of Allegany County. This self-made lawyer with less than a fourth grade education, began nearly a year of research, writing, and developing the case for parcel post legislation. At his side and request there worked a young farmer who was later to become the nation's Assistant Director of the Agricultural Extension Service.
In the midst of the legislative preparation the farmer had his first child. He took time out to give him a name. It was David Lewis, in honor of the little man with whom he walked down Pennsylvania Avenue each Wednesday for some thirty years. After a weekly luncheon the tall man and the almost dwarf relaxed by letting the public gawk as they walked.
The first parcel post bill was enacted into law by the Congress. Mr. Lewis, who later was honored as the Father of Social Security, was first recognized as the Daddy of Parcel Post. There is now among my prized inheritance a copy of that bill with the inscription, "To Reuben Brigham - to whom this legislation owes its life - David J. Lewis."
I went to see Mr. Lewis in Cumberland some years ago. He was in his mid-eighties working in the basement of a law building, and his clothes were wrinkled and spotty. The lawyers upstairs did not want me to go down into the basement retreat. He had failed so. I told them I was his namesake and knew him well. This was my pass key.
He was involved with blocks of wood and a jigsaw. After the warm greeting that was to be our last, he said, "David, they think I'm a little off." Then he explained, "I always wanted to know something about higher math and the books all assume you have had the basics. The only way I can work out the mathematical equations and physics is to cut blocks the way I think and then fit them together to prove the formula."
This was not too important until he added, "David, when you stop appreciating other people and when you stop desiring to improve you own knowledge, the world no longer needs you."
I am glad there is work ahead for all of us, that there is yet knowledge for us to acquire, and that there are people to relate to. Oddly enough the quot next to the Mr. Lewis picture read, "Life is a series of little packages from which the strings are always coming untied." If you can't handle it you might send it Parcel Post.
David Lewis Brigham
Executive Director
August 6, 2009
September 1970
Vacations are mighty important. A good case can be built for the short ones and the long ones. The in-between are also much to be desired. It is a matter for debate when one says the anticipation is often worth more than the actual leave time. Another will stress the real pleasure is in reliving the away moments through pictures and the telling to the poor stay-at-homes.
Well let me say a word for right in the middle of a vacation. Someone must want to know how much I enjoyed catching that big fish. The game warden landed on the lake by our boat and taxied over in his plane to be sure we had a license and that the boat was properly registered. Then, he asked the question I was waiting for... "Mind showing me your catch?" That stringer came out of the water mighty easy and the warden seemed impressed. I was sure he would have more to say about my big fish because it was the largest caught off Owl Island this summer.
Next, he paddled over to the boat where the younger generation was having a go at the bass and perch. The kids were within the length limit on their string, but just barely. It was good to bask in the light of success when the professional eye was on the scene. The old man had put it on 'em once again. Surely the warden wanted to see my fish again but he took off without further notice of that big guy who took my bait.
Many others have taken vacations and are now safely back. Not many came back with a badly sprained ankle from slipping on a rock and falling into the lake. Not many limped around in an off-white tennis shoe and had a boss full of sympathy and understanding who drew a parallel to the hippie in the same one shoe situation. The businessman who saw the one bare foot and the sneaker on the other admonished, "Hey fellar, you lost one of your shoes!" Came the snappy reply from the long haired youth, "Naw, I just found one!"
So we had a great time and we did relax, got a new grip on our problems and began to plan for another year. It's funny how easy it is to be your real congenial, wholesome self when you are a little distance from the problems of the office and the trials of keeping the home fires burning.
As we looked ahead to another day before this one was over, we did the logical thing. As League members the obvious move is to inquire about the LFRA Travel Program.
You can write for suggestions or ask for prices on trips you think you would like to try. If the League does not have what you want there is no problem about looking to other travel avenues. Our thinking is that we want to start where the discount is available. That means LFRA and the travel numbers.
So why do we spend time on vacation plans when we are just back from this ten day spree? That's easy! We had so much fun planning for this year that we want to get the kick to be realized from anticipating once again. Then we want the joy of another relaxing time and the best of all lift of telling friends like you about it.
We are thinking about a cruise or a flight to Europe. Maybe we'll settle for a See America tour by bus. Several short jaunts to Williamsburg, Hershey, and New England wouldn't be bad. I'd sure like to see Yellowstone again. then there's Hawaii and the far east. How about Tokyo?
There was lunch last week with a friend who had just returned from Tokyo. One of those combined business and fun trips. The highlight was a visit to a department store where he was greeted by a lovely English speaking, kimono clad Japanese hostess. In perfect English she welcomed, advised and hoped the visit would be flawless.
The elevator door by which the American stood quietly opened and the operator who appeared to be a duplicate of the greeter gave her welcome. The visitor was not to be outdone and after thanking the two girls he posed a question: "Do you take turns?" From the elevator operator, "No. So sorry. Just up and down."
Travel can be fun even when you are misunderstood. You can always tell someone about something, and they will laugh with you. Maybe that is the reason I had such a great time this year. You must go to Maine and hear the spice of a real "down easterner" before your travels are over.
Yes, I did almost forget about that fish. He was a big one and the game warden had noted my luck. So we went down the lake to Meddybemps with the six houses, church and general store. Had my picture taken with my fish and then went into store to see the old cracker barrel sitters who had told me the fishing was best "on the rain line." You watch for spots where the rain stops on the lake and the big ones are there.
The word was ahead of me. They knew about the big fish and told me so. I felt good and showed it. Then one of them, the deaf guy in the corner by the chewin' tobacco said, "Son, that was a mighty fine male fish you got." I agreed.
Then I began turning wheels...how does he know it is a male? I made the wrong move and asked... He couldn't hear the question but another old native did. Came the answer...
"Of course it's a male, son. It's a small mouth bass ain't it?"
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
Well let me say a word for right in the middle of a vacation. Someone must want to know how much I enjoyed catching that big fish. The game warden landed on the lake by our boat and taxied over in his plane to be sure we had a license and that the boat was properly registered. Then, he asked the question I was waiting for... "Mind showing me your catch?" That stringer came out of the water mighty easy and the warden seemed impressed. I was sure he would have more to say about my big fish because it was the largest caught off Owl Island this summer.
Next, he paddled over to the boat where the younger generation was having a go at the bass and perch. The kids were within the length limit on their string, but just barely. It was good to bask in the light of success when the professional eye was on the scene. The old man had put it on 'em once again. Surely the warden wanted to see my fish again but he took off without further notice of that big guy who took my bait.
Many others have taken vacations and are now safely back. Not many came back with a badly sprained ankle from slipping on a rock and falling into the lake. Not many limped around in an off-white tennis shoe and had a boss full of sympathy and understanding who drew a parallel to the hippie in the same one shoe situation. The businessman who saw the one bare foot and the sneaker on the other admonished, "Hey fellar, you lost one of your shoes!" Came the snappy reply from the long haired youth, "Naw, I just found one!"
So we had a great time and we did relax, got a new grip on our problems and began to plan for another year. It's funny how easy it is to be your real congenial, wholesome self when you are a little distance from the problems of the office and the trials of keeping the home fires burning.
As we looked ahead to another day before this one was over, we did the logical thing. As League members the obvious move is to inquire about the LFRA Travel Program.
You can write for suggestions or ask for prices on trips you think you would like to try. If the League does not have what you want there is no problem about looking to other travel avenues. Our thinking is that we want to start where the discount is available. That means LFRA and the travel numbers.
So why do we spend time on vacation plans when we are just back from this ten day spree? That's easy! We had so much fun planning for this year that we want to get the kick to be realized from anticipating once again. Then we want the joy of another relaxing time and the best of all lift of telling friends like you about it.
We are thinking about a cruise or a flight to Europe. Maybe we'll settle for a See America tour by bus. Several short jaunts to Williamsburg, Hershey, and New England wouldn't be bad. I'd sure like to see Yellowstone again. then there's Hawaii and the far east. How about Tokyo?
There was lunch last week with a friend who had just returned from Tokyo. One of those combined business and fun trips. The highlight was a visit to a department store where he was greeted by a lovely English speaking, kimono clad Japanese hostess. In perfect English she welcomed, advised and hoped the visit would be flawless.
The elevator door by which the American stood quietly opened and the operator who appeared to be a duplicate of the greeter gave her welcome. The visitor was not to be outdone and after thanking the two girls he posed a question: "Do you take turns?" From the elevator operator, "No. So sorry. Just up and down."
Travel can be fun even when you are misunderstood. You can always tell someone about something, and they will laugh with you. Maybe that is the reason I had such a great time this year. You must go to Maine and hear the spice of a real "down easterner" before your travels are over.
Yes, I did almost forget about that fish. He was a big one and the game warden had noted my luck. So we went down the lake to Meddybemps with the six houses, church and general store. Had my picture taken with my fish and then went into store to see the old cracker barrel sitters who had told me the fishing was best "on the rain line." You watch for spots where the rain stops on the lake and the big ones are there.
The word was ahead of me. They knew about the big fish and told me so. I felt good and showed it. Then one of them, the deaf guy in the corner by the chewin' tobacco said, "Son, that was a mighty fine male fish you got." I agreed.
Then I began turning wheels...how does he know it is a male? I made the wrong move and asked... He couldn't hear the question but another old native did. Came the answer...
"Of course it's a male, son. It's a small mouth bass ain't it?"
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
January 10, 2009
July/August 1970
Mike is only four. You might say he is typical with a baseball cap and closely cropped hair. Sometimes he comes on too strong for the establishment. Kids have a way of saying it like it is...no camouflage or veneer.
This young man is one of the sizable entourage of youngsters who are in the niece and nephew category for Uncle Dave. Some call him Uncle Brigham since he is the oldest of the circle of the older generation curiosities. Daddy is a federal employee and mighty important. Mother is alright also. She does a little work on the side and cooks a pretty good meal.
But Daddy is the one. He may be a number on the government payroll or just one of 400,000 folks in the Washington arena. Then again, he is something special and Mike will tell you so if you ask him...or if you don't.
A recent copy of the Recreation Register came into the family circle. This was natural since the head of the house, in addition to running the agency to which he reports each morning, also belongs to a "recreation sumpin." I know because Mike told me.
So, the paper was passed around and scanned. There was talk of what the League is all about. Not very many seem to have the full picture and it was natural to turn to Uncle Dave as one who had lived with the situation for a couple of years. Of course he didn't know as much as Daddy but he might be able to tell us something. Four years old and bugging the dickens out of me! Oh boy!
In unity there is strength. I seemed to remember that from somewhere. This was a good place to begin and it could confuse and quiet a four-year old.
Wouldn't it be fine if all public servants were like Daddy and belonged to their own agency Recreation and Welfare Association, and these in turn all joined the League of Federal Recreation Associations? Now we would have 400,000 all working for the same thing and doing something about the many benefits which are waiting in the wings for such a group. Look at the purchasing power, the influence, the ability to bargain and the meaning such a unified voice could express. There is no limit if someone can just strike the right chord.
As if this were not enough to overwhelm bright-eyed Mike, there came urging to get down to cases, sort of a "what can this thing do for Daddy right now" type of explanation. As this one turned around to avoid being charred by the heat of the child's frankness, the nuts and bolts seemed to be dropping all around.
Yes, this has been a bad year for travel and the many who were expected to take advantage of good opportunities and discounts through the League have not been knocking down the doors. Money is tight and budgets are pinched. If the trip is over $300, it is just too much and there is not that kind of money running around loose.
The Buyer's Guides are out and there is another good reason to have Daddy in this thing called R&W. This is what we meant about the buying power of large numbers. And there were some tulip bulbs from Holland that Daddy could buy for a good price because he had his membership card.
There is no way to tell a four-year old about ways in which groups of Uncle Sam's people work with and find advantages in making or saving money through parking lots, cleaning facilities, barber shops, stationary and book stores, snack bars and cafeterias. He painting a guy into the corner with more questions about the time it takes to be a member of something. He thought he knew why some interest and dedicated service by a few hardy workers had breathed life into organizations that struggled to succeed and at time survive.
This matter of wanting to do for others and of feeling a responsibility caught the fancy of a young man. You don't have to be more than four to relate to that. So, the League does have responsibility and potential and we are going to hear more about it from Daddy. Right?...Right. came the answer.
Now it was time for a parent to respond and there was a picture at the top of the page for Mike to see. It should be obvious after this long talk about mice and men and recreation and things. The question came from a Mother who related well to the guy who has something to do with this League.
"Alright Mike, these are Executive Etchings and there is a man in the picture at the top of the page. Who is that man in the picture?" Mike loves Uncle Dave!
The answer was just what we all expected... "Don't worry, Mother, I know who that is alright... He's got problems! That's President Nixon."
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
This young man is one of the sizable entourage of youngsters who are in the niece and nephew category for Uncle Dave. Some call him Uncle Brigham since he is the oldest of the circle of the older generation curiosities. Daddy is a federal employee and mighty important. Mother is alright also. She does a little work on the side and cooks a pretty good meal.
But Daddy is the one. He may be a number on the government payroll or just one of 400,000 folks in the Washington arena. Then again, he is something special and Mike will tell you so if you ask him...or if you don't.
A recent copy of the Recreation Register came into the family circle. This was natural since the head of the house, in addition to running the agency to which he reports each morning, also belongs to a "recreation sumpin." I know because Mike told me.
So, the paper was passed around and scanned. There was talk of what the League is all about. Not very many seem to have the full picture and it was natural to turn to Uncle Dave as one who had lived with the situation for a couple of years. Of course he didn't know as much as Daddy but he might be able to tell us something. Four years old and bugging the dickens out of me! Oh boy!
In unity there is strength. I seemed to remember that from somewhere. This was a good place to begin and it could confuse and quiet a four-year old.
Wouldn't it be fine if all public servants were like Daddy and belonged to their own agency Recreation and Welfare Association, and these in turn all joined the League of Federal Recreation Associations? Now we would have 400,000 all working for the same thing and doing something about the many benefits which are waiting in the wings for such a group. Look at the purchasing power, the influence, the ability to bargain and the meaning such a unified voice could express. There is no limit if someone can just strike the right chord.
As if this were not enough to overwhelm bright-eyed Mike, there came urging to get down to cases, sort of a "what can this thing do for Daddy right now" type of explanation. As this one turned around to avoid being charred by the heat of the child's frankness, the nuts and bolts seemed to be dropping all around.
Yes, this has been a bad year for travel and the many who were expected to take advantage of good opportunities and discounts through the League have not been knocking down the doors. Money is tight and budgets are pinched. If the trip is over $300, it is just too much and there is not that kind of money running around loose.
The Buyer's Guides are out and there is another good reason to have Daddy in this thing called R&W. This is what we meant about the buying power of large numbers. And there were some tulip bulbs from Holland that Daddy could buy for a good price because he had his membership card.
There is no way to tell a four-year old about ways in which groups of Uncle Sam's people work with and find advantages in making or saving money through parking lots, cleaning facilities, barber shops, stationary and book stores, snack bars and cafeterias. He painting a guy into the corner with more questions about the time it takes to be a member of something. He thought he knew why some interest and dedicated service by a few hardy workers had breathed life into organizations that struggled to succeed and at time survive.
This matter of wanting to do for others and of feeling a responsibility caught the fancy of a young man. You don't have to be more than four to relate to that. So, the League does have responsibility and potential and we are going to hear more about it from Daddy. Right?...Right. came the answer.
Now it was time for a parent to respond and there was a picture at the top of the page for Mike to see. It should be obvious after this long talk about mice and men and recreation and things. The question came from a Mother who related well to the guy who has something to do with this League.
"Alright Mike, these are Executive Etchings and there is a man in the picture at the top of the page. Who is that man in the picture?" Mike loves Uncle Dave!
The answer was just what we all expected... "Don't worry, Mother, I know who that is alright... He's got problems! That's President Nixon."
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
January 6, 2009
June 1970
Crisfield is about as far as you can go without running out of land on Maryland's Eastern Shore. The purpose of the trip was to address some of the finest young Americans from the local high school classes who were being honored by Rotary Clubs. The riding partner wanted to talk about the League of Federal Recreation Associations in terms of both investment and insurance opportunities. He knew many had worked for the betterment of LFRA and had become somewhat discouraged and to a degree disillusioned.
My friend stopped at an antique shed to pick up some"depression glass." I saw a Martin House and thought it might look well and serve a purpose in my country vegetable garden. These birds live and work together in goodly numbers and close interdependence. They are not destructive and consume great quantities of insects, mosquitoes and bugs.
So, the Martin House found its new home at 2:00 A.M. and rested quietly in the yard. It had no inhabitants, no mobility and no reason for thinking it might in any remote way relate to this League business the two men had been talking about.
Then there came a fifteen foot hickory pole, a two by four and plywood platform, much lifting and a few nails. Now the house was up, overlooking the countryside and ready for tenants. It was early afternoon and there were two very much unresolved questions: Would the house stay on the pole if the wind blew? Would the Martins come?
By 4:00 P.M. there were two Martin scouts checking each of the 20 entrances and compartments. They heard the Bob White call in the pines below. The Robin sat peacefully on her nest with confidence each of the four blue eggs would be productive. A Cardinal sang from his bush where his mate was busy with her brood.
The Wren had hauled thousands of twigs into the winter feeder and could flutter wings and whistler like a flute with the pride of the mission accomplished.
The test was not to be long in coming. As the inspection of the Martin house continued and old sticks from another flock and generation were hauled away, there were flashes of lightening and the unmistakable rumble of the thunderstorm which had been predicted.
The duel of the jagged flashed was not an unfamiliar sight. Nor were the dark clouds. The Martins left the house and one wondered if they felt the insecurity and the uncertainty of quarters perched upon a pole.
The wind whispered through the pines. It spoke louder. Then came the rain, more wind and pellets of hail. The white pine grove rocked, the hail stones increased to the size of marbles and continued to beat down for twenty-five minutes. A large pine was twisted off some fifteen feet up. Another was broken in two and took a spruce with it.
The cherry in the garden was torn up. Gullies of water rushed by the house and the basement was filled to three and a half feet. The water couldn't run into the drain or under the door as fast as it was rolling down the steps form the backyard.
There were two more heavy cloudbursts and the garden was only a stripped down sea of mud where the strong and promising young plants had been. In the desolation and discouragement of it all there walked a man who had helped get it all planted, nourished, financed and on its way.
At this low point a Bob White called form the white pines. It was then I thought of the birds. The Martin House was still riding high, but would the Martins come back?
At the front of the picture window which the hail stones had pounded, the little feeder was standing the Wrens were safe. The singing told me so.
The news was not so good with the Cardinal. There was no longer a nest in the bush. The young were lost and the female was a distance away. The redbird sat on his limb and gave his throaty message of strength and assurance.
What about the Robin's nest in the pine. It was still intact after the coaster dip experience. But the eggs were gone and so were the parents. They must have given up! Then the first big surprise... One of the Robins flew up to her nest. She took the sting from her beak and began to weave it into the nest. There will be eggs next and then the brood. She still believes.
Back to the garden and the Martin house. It looks more black and white in the distance. Funny...only the roof was painted black. The rest was white...
The house is moving...or is it? There are no longer two Martins. There are now forty Martins! The Martins came back.
Nature has something to say to those who have worked so hard, attempted to accomplish in the face of real obstacles and given of themselves in the service for all federal workers. A little twister can provide a lot of inspiration. The Martin House is up and the Martins are building.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
My friend stopped at an antique shed to pick up some"depression glass." I saw a Martin House and thought it might look well and serve a purpose in my country vegetable garden. These birds live and work together in goodly numbers and close interdependence. They are not destructive and consume great quantities of insects, mosquitoes and bugs.
So, the Martin House found its new home at 2:00 A.M. and rested quietly in the yard. It had no inhabitants, no mobility and no reason for thinking it might in any remote way relate to this League business the two men had been talking about.
Then there came a fifteen foot hickory pole, a two by four and plywood platform, much lifting and a few nails. Now the house was up, overlooking the countryside and ready for tenants. It was early afternoon and there were two very much unresolved questions: Would the house stay on the pole if the wind blew? Would the Martins come?
By 4:00 P.M. there were two Martin scouts checking each of the 20 entrances and compartments. They heard the Bob White call in the pines below. The Robin sat peacefully on her nest with confidence each of the four blue eggs would be productive. A Cardinal sang from his bush where his mate was busy with her brood.
The Wren had hauled thousands of twigs into the winter feeder and could flutter wings and whistler like a flute with the pride of the mission accomplished.
The test was not to be long in coming. As the inspection of the Martin house continued and old sticks from another flock and generation were hauled away, there were flashes of lightening and the unmistakable rumble of the thunderstorm which had been predicted.
The duel of the jagged flashed was not an unfamiliar sight. Nor were the dark clouds. The Martins left the house and one wondered if they felt the insecurity and the uncertainty of quarters perched upon a pole.
The wind whispered through the pines. It spoke louder. Then came the rain, more wind and pellets of hail. The white pine grove rocked, the hail stones increased to the size of marbles and continued to beat down for twenty-five minutes. A large pine was twisted off some fifteen feet up. Another was broken in two and took a spruce with it.
The cherry in the garden was torn up. Gullies of water rushed by the house and the basement was filled to three and a half feet. The water couldn't run into the drain or under the door as fast as it was rolling down the steps form the backyard.
There were two more heavy cloudbursts and the garden was only a stripped down sea of mud where the strong and promising young plants had been. In the desolation and discouragement of it all there walked a man who had helped get it all planted, nourished, financed and on its way.
At this low point a Bob White called form the white pines. It was then I thought of the birds. The Martin House was still riding high, but would the Martins come back?
At the front of the picture window which the hail stones had pounded, the little feeder was standing the Wrens were safe. The singing told me so.
The news was not so good with the Cardinal. There was no longer a nest in the bush. The young were lost and the female was a distance away. The redbird sat on his limb and gave his throaty message of strength and assurance.
What about the Robin's nest in the pine. It was still intact after the coaster dip experience. But the eggs were gone and so were the parents. They must have given up! Then the first big surprise... One of the Robins flew up to her nest. She took the sting from her beak and began to weave it into the nest. There will be eggs next and then the brood. She still believes.
Back to the garden and the Martin house. It looks more black and white in the distance. Funny...only the roof was painted black. The rest was white...
The house is moving...or is it? There are no longer two Martins. There are now forty Martins! The Martins came back.
Nature has something to say to those who have worked so hard, attempted to accomplish in the face of real obstacles and given of themselves in the service for all federal workers. A little twister can provide a lot of inspiration. The Martin House is up and the Martins are building.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
December 31, 2008
May 1970
It's a long way down. At least that was the thought as I watched several workmen in the chill drizzle of a late winter morning. They were in the park eleven stories below and the things they were planting looked very dead and the labor hopeless.
Now a month has passed and the leaves are starting out on the trees. The red of the azaleas, the red, yellow and white of the tulips, and the blues of the border plants are saying something.
There is something to be said for starting with nothing, or almost nothing. You can add some faith and hope, a portion of TLC, the warmth of the sun, a well prepared seedbed, and the overwhelming spark of LIFE. The result can be anticipated is you are willing to wait the appointed time. It's not nearly as far down when there are colors in such perfect patterns to relate back to you.
How satisfied are you? Does the title "Federal Servant" bug a little? This is one thing the League of Federal Recreation Associations is all about. We want the world to know something about these folks who make up the great heartbeat that is the United States of America. True, we cannot all be identified, singled out and honored in the niche in which our talents are utilized. But...
But, aren't we part of the structure which placed men on the moon and brought three safely back from almost certain disaster? Is you position one calling for support of these proud young Americans on the line for their Country in Viet Nam? Or, are you in the services area making sure the mail goes through on time, that there are jobs for those who need them, that the production in this nation is in line with the needs, and the natural gifts of our environment are protected as we relate more and more to air and water conditions.
Perhaps you are involved in transportation and the moving of men and materials over, under and around. Roads, rails, airways and waterways tell us something about America and your role in her progress. Or, is it communications for defense or peace, business and pleasure? Could be you are in the midst of telling where we have been and projecting where we are going through a census survey, in interstate commerce, or by a relationship to our Interior?
As the stock market rocks around seeking level, you suddenly become fully appreciative of your position in the essential financial structure of the most blessed of the globe. Without the "me" in government what happens to budget, treasury, general accounting, federal deposits, home loans, small business, and securities to be held or exchanged?
You are a vital part of making things better for people everywhere. The health, the education, and the welfare of all are in your hands. Housing and the improvement of our cities occupy your time and ability. You are helping someone else through an immigration or naturalization maze just like someone in your own family experienced. You are part of the philosophy making certain there is equal justice under the law for all. Yes, even our friends in Internal Revenue give us that assurance.
My cup of tea is also in the heritage of our land and I reach out to those who want to hear about us, read about us, and see us in action yesterday and today. That's why I am enthused when I identify with the Library of Congress, the Archives, the Gallery of Art, Bureau of Standards, Patent Office, and the great and grand Smithsonian Institution.
A goodly number hit us where we live...We want to live longer, have less pain, and be able to enjoy what all these other government friends have done for us. That's why we direct a nod of pride to those who man the hospitals, research all areas of health and science, give us rehabilitation opportunities, and then economic security through gainful service to others.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
Now a month has passed and the leaves are starting out on the trees. The red of the azaleas, the red, yellow and white of the tulips, and the blues of the border plants are saying something.
There is something to be said for starting with nothing, or almost nothing. You can add some faith and hope, a portion of TLC, the warmth of the sun, a well prepared seedbed, and the overwhelming spark of LIFE. The result can be anticipated is you are willing to wait the appointed time. It's not nearly as far down when there are colors in such perfect patterns to relate back to you.
How satisfied are you? Does the title "Federal Servant" bug a little? This is one thing the League of Federal Recreation Associations is all about. We want the world to know something about these folks who make up the great heartbeat that is the United States of America. True, we cannot all be identified, singled out and honored in the niche in which our talents are utilized. But...
But, aren't we part of the structure which placed men on the moon and brought three safely back from almost certain disaster? Is you position one calling for support of these proud young Americans on the line for their Country in Viet Nam? Or, are you in the services area making sure the mail goes through on time, that there are jobs for those who need them, that the production in this nation is in line with the needs, and the natural gifts of our environment are protected as we relate more and more to air and water conditions.
Perhaps you are involved in transportation and the moving of men and materials over, under and around. Roads, rails, airways and waterways tell us something about America and your role in her progress. Or, is it communications for defense or peace, business and pleasure? Could be you are in the midst of telling where we have been and projecting where we are going through a census survey, in interstate commerce, or by a relationship to our Interior?
As the stock market rocks around seeking level, you suddenly become fully appreciative of your position in the essential financial structure of the most blessed of the globe. Without the "me" in government what happens to budget, treasury, general accounting, federal deposits, home loans, small business, and securities to be held or exchanged?
You are a vital part of making things better for people everywhere. The health, the education, and the welfare of all are in your hands. Housing and the improvement of our cities occupy your time and ability. You are helping someone else through an immigration or naturalization maze just like someone in your own family experienced. You are part of the philosophy making certain there is equal justice under the law for all. Yes, even our friends in Internal Revenue give us that assurance.
My cup of tea is also in the heritage of our land and I reach out to those who want to hear about us, read about us, and see us in action yesterday and today. That's why I am enthused when I identify with the Library of Congress, the Archives, the Gallery of Art, Bureau of Standards, Patent Office, and the great and grand Smithsonian Institution.
A goodly number hit us where we live...We want to live longer, have less pain, and be able to enjoy what all these other government friends have done for us. That's why we direct a nod of pride to those who man the hospitals, research all areas of health and science, give us rehabilitation opportunities, and then economic security through gainful service to others.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
December 21, 2008
December 1970
The bumper sticker below the license plate of an Alabama auto caught my eye. It said, "Wise Men Still Seek Him."
Christmas is upon us again. The tired, but fairly good natured crowd clogs up the streets and freedom of movement is lost in the stores. Clerks are worn out and still they smile. Sales must be made and jobs need to be maintained. The joy of the season is almost buried under the crush for things. But is this what it's all about?
The temptation is to recall the orange in the toe of a stocking, wax candles on the pine tree you cut yourself, a "Flying Arrow" sled, the yule log you helped haul to the big fireplace, and the fire on the plum pudding. The woodbox in the corner by the kitchen range was a favorite spot also. Here you could drowse and absorb the first aroma of turkey and duck.
There is a definite generation gap... How many can recall stale hard candy, nuts in the shell, apples and a pair of shoe laces as the heart of the stocking loot? Or, the icy vigil at the head of the stairs while the pipeless furnace was being fired up with soft coal and the wood you had brought in?
Then we gathered in the parlor to open presents... You never heard about a parlor, or a mantle, or a kerosene lamp, or an outhouse, of sloppin' the hogs, or crows foot and standin' cedar... How about ground pine and laurel, holly and spruce, bayberry and Santa Claus?
It's no wonder we have trouble looking back some 2000 years when we can't even tell about our Christmas Past without a world of definition. Somehow this is the time of year to relate to the past, present, and future. We read about Scrooge and Tiny Tim with great feeling. We squelch our doubts by once again reading aloud, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause!" At the same time we enjoy the superior smile of a boy who thinks he has found out there is no Santa and his Sister hasn't.
Tinsel and holly, Santa Claus, and children. Noise and confusion and the ring of cash registers; the tearing of credit slips (for Santa enters through a hole in the chimney and leaves through a hole in the pocket); above all these sounds are the notes of cornets and trombones playing "Holy Night" or "Little Town of Bethlehem." Wistful, little children look hungrily at shop displays; a child is made happy by a ten cent gadget (this is the season when we get the children something for Father to play with); Angels, wise men, and a special family; City lights and the light of a star. Luxury and a stable. Men of today and a manger of yesterday. Civilization and a Child.
To some the contrast seems a mockery and hypocrisy. Others there are to say romance and reality. I like the crowds and the three kings of the Orient. I like the city stores and the shepherds and the angels. Even in a world of confusion wise men see a star. Surely they say to young and old alike, "Help build a better tomorrow rather than to destroy an imperfect today."
The Wise Men following a Star, offering their gifts... This is a symbol of Christmas. If this ever be forgotten, the world will be the poorer. These Wise Men saw a Star. A radiance shone around them. Their hearts were not without wonder. These star-gazers related he brightness of the skies to the events of the earth. Even as the tides combine the waters of the earth with the pull of other planets, so these men responded to the unity and harmony of the larger universe.
These Wise Men saw a child. While it is possible to sentimentalize about childhood--or to fly off on another tangent in talk of little animals; nevertheless, most of us parents are saved by our children. The fires of our devotion are kindled around the manger of Bethlehem; or a tiny crib of a little child in any of our homes.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
Christmas is upon us again. The tired, but fairly good natured crowd clogs up the streets and freedom of movement is lost in the stores. Clerks are worn out and still they smile. Sales must be made and jobs need to be maintained. The joy of the season is almost buried under the crush for things. But is this what it's all about?
The temptation is to recall the orange in the toe of a stocking, wax candles on the pine tree you cut yourself, a "Flying Arrow" sled, the yule log you helped haul to the big fireplace, and the fire on the plum pudding. The woodbox in the corner by the kitchen range was a favorite spot also. Here you could drowse and absorb the first aroma of turkey and duck.
There is a definite generation gap... How many can recall stale hard candy, nuts in the shell, apples and a pair of shoe laces as the heart of the stocking loot? Or, the icy vigil at the head of the stairs while the pipeless furnace was being fired up with soft coal and the wood you had brought in?
Then we gathered in the parlor to open presents... You never heard about a parlor, or a mantle, or a kerosene lamp, or an outhouse, of sloppin' the hogs, or crows foot and standin' cedar... How about ground pine and laurel, holly and spruce, bayberry and Santa Claus?
It's no wonder we have trouble looking back some 2000 years when we can't even tell about our Christmas Past without a world of definition. Somehow this is the time of year to relate to the past, present, and future. We read about Scrooge and Tiny Tim with great feeling. We squelch our doubts by once again reading aloud, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause!" At the same time we enjoy the superior smile of a boy who thinks he has found out there is no Santa and his Sister hasn't.
Tinsel and holly, Santa Claus, and children. Noise and confusion and the ring of cash registers; the tearing of credit slips (for Santa enters through a hole in the chimney and leaves through a hole in the pocket); above all these sounds are the notes of cornets and trombones playing "Holy Night" or "Little Town of Bethlehem." Wistful, little children look hungrily at shop displays; a child is made happy by a ten cent gadget (this is the season when we get the children something for Father to play with); Angels, wise men, and a special family; City lights and the light of a star. Luxury and a stable. Men of today and a manger of yesterday. Civilization and a Child.
To some the contrast seems a mockery and hypocrisy. Others there are to say romance and reality. I like the crowds and the three kings of the Orient. I like the city stores and the shepherds and the angels. Even in a world of confusion wise men see a star. Surely they say to young and old alike, "Help build a better tomorrow rather than to destroy an imperfect today."
The Wise Men following a Star, offering their gifts... This is a symbol of Christmas. If this ever be forgotten, the world will be the poorer. These Wise Men saw a Star. A radiance shone around them. Their hearts were not without wonder. These star-gazers related he brightness of the skies to the events of the earth. Even as the tides combine the waters of the earth with the pull of other planets, so these men responded to the unity and harmony of the larger universe.
These Wise Men saw a child. While it is possible to sentimentalize about childhood--or to fly off on another tangent in talk of little animals; nevertheless, most of us parents are saved by our children. The fires of our devotion are kindled around the manger of Bethlehem; or a tiny crib of a little child in any of our homes.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
December 12, 2008
April 1970
So you are doing everything you can with what you have to work with... You don't need an association of employees... You can make it on your own without a crutch... What's the matter now... What do you mean I could do more if I didn't have a handicap?
The last thing I need is a sermon to tell me a League of Federal Recreation Associations is important. After all, I have worked with and for the League and I believe. Perhaps we are too self centered and interested only in our own corner.
Maybe we don't possess the time, interest and stamina needed to do the extra of being involved in another association. I can just be a member and drift along. Let the suckers and those who can't do the other things plod along with organizations that do for others: I've got enough just to keep me snowed under!
Yes, I did hear the great Helen Hayes say it. "We are all handicapped: some physically, some mentally, some emotionally, some financially, and some spiritually." This can explain away the struggle of the League to be a forceful, dynamic and vital representative of 140,000 individual members.
All of us are handicapped when it comes to putting something of ourselves into something of a general nature. We didn't sit unmoved in the Commerce Auditorium on 144th Street as representatives of the Civil Service Commission presented the Second Annual Award Ceremony and the Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employee of the Year.
If you are wondering what you can do with what you have to do with, there are some folks close by who can tell you. Let's meet a few together...
The Marine Corps Band played "This is My Country," and we were all invited to join in singing the Star Spangled Banner as the Color Guard of the combined services advanced the Colors. So that sounds routine...
Then look on the stage... In the spotlight were braces, artificial limbs, a crutch, wheelchairs and personalities. Their owners were the 10 Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employees of the Year.
Many like you were nominated and from the search came those who were deemed to have done the most with what they had. Let's call the roll...
The Department of the Air Force sent Jimmy Adams (polio-meningitis), a research chemist with a Master's degree and an Outstanding Performance Rating; Dr. Thomas Austin (polio quadriplegic), Director of the National Oceanographic Data Center of the U.S. Navy and "Honorary Citizen" of Dade County by the Mayors Council for service as Chairman of the Greater Miami Area Equal Employment Opportunity Committee; USDA nominee Dr. Jay Basch (born deaf), an outstanding chemist and author; and Mrs. Francis Garcia (polio) deaf, mute, total blindness in one eye, and a presser with the Sandia Base Laundry in New Mexico who represented the Defense Atomic Support Agency.
Also in the footlights, Ralph Harwood (spinal meningitis) drew the nod from the Defense Supply Agency where he is a public representative and chemist although completely deaf; Mrs. Dorothy Hickey (polio) confined to a wheelchair for the past 24 years, refused to dwell on her infirmities, became an effective counselor to others severely handicapped and performs with accuracy, efficiency and cheer for the U.S.I.A.; Earl Miller (cerebral palsy) conquered a wheelchair, crutches, braces and a cane to learn to walk alone and to be named the outstanding representative from the Civil Service Commission itself.
Next, Philip Pepper (polio) who was President of his class at U.C.L.A. with a Master's degree in social welfare and presently the distinguished Chief of the Office of Program Planning and Evaluation, Indian Health Service, for H.E.W.; Miss Magdalene Phillips (blind) a dictating machine transcriber at Letterman Army Hospital takes the dictation of six medical officers and in her spare time counsels newly blinded patients.
As if this were not enough to make you proud and inspired the last of the 10 nominees was called forward for his citation. He walked across the stage. So, what's so great about walking across the stage?
Bob Smith, a combat rifleman in Korea in the winter of 1950 was presented by the Veterans Administration by Administrator Don Johnson. Bob was shot, taken prisoner, and held for ten days without food or medical attention. His wounds, aggravated by frost bite and infection, necessitate a quadruple amputation. Since 1955 he has been with the VA from tabulating machine operator to computer programmer.
Bob refused to be handicapped. With pride and determination he walked across the stage to meet Harold Russell, Chairman of the President's Committee on Employment of the Handicapped, himself a double amputee.
Someone in the audience quipped, "The Iron Men are at work," as four artificial arms and functional hooks grasped the plaque. Who could better carry the title Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employee of the Year?
Bob Smith opened his own door to opportunity and as the program said, "He's making sure the door stays open for others now traveling that hard road back."
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
The last thing I need is a sermon to tell me a League of Federal Recreation Associations is important. After all, I have worked with and for the League and I believe. Perhaps we are too self centered and interested only in our own corner.
Maybe we don't possess the time, interest and stamina needed to do the extra of being involved in another association. I can just be a member and drift along. Let the suckers and those who can't do the other things plod along with organizations that do for others: I've got enough just to keep me snowed under!
Yes, I did hear the great Helen Hayes say it. "We are all handicapped: some physically, some mentally, some emotionally, some financially, and some spiritually." This can explain away the struggle of the League to be a forceful, dynamic and vital representative of 140,000 individual members.
All of us are handicapped when it comes to putting something of ourselves into something of a general nature. We didn't sit unmoved in the Commerce Auditorium on 144th Street as representatives of the Civil Service Commission presented the Second Annual Award Ceremony and the Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employee of the Year.
If you are wondering what you can do with what you have to do with, there are some folks close by who can tell you. Let's meet a few together...
The Marine Corps Band played "This is My Country," and we were all invited to join in singing the Star Spangled Banner as the Color Guard of the combined services advanced the Colors. So that sounds routine...
Then look on the stage... In the spotlight were braces, artificial limbs, a crutch, wheelchairs and personalities. Their owners were the 10 Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employees of the Year.
Many like you were nominated and from the search came those who were deemed to have done the most with what they had. Let's call the roll...
The Department of the Air Force sent Jimmy Adams (polio-meningitis), a research chemist with a Master's degree and an Outstanding Performance Rating; Dr. Thomas Austin (polio quadriplegic), Director of the National Oceanographic Data Center of the U.S. Navy and "Honorary Citizen" of Dade County by the Mayors Council for service as Chairman of the Greater Miami Area Equal Employment Opportunity Committee; USDA nominee Dr. Jay Basch (born deaf), an outstanding chemist and author; and Mrs. Francis Garcia (polio) deaf, mute, total blindness in one eye, and a presser with the Sandia Base Laundry in New Mexico who represented the Defense Atomic Support Agency.
Also in the footlights, Ralph Harwood (spinal meningitis) drew the nod from the Defense Supply Agency where he is a public representative and chemist although completely deaf; Mrs. Dorothy Hickey (polio) confined to a wheelchair for the past 24 years, refused to dwell on her infirmities, became an effective counselor to others severely handicapped and performs with accuracy, efficiency and cheer for the U.S.I.A.; Earl Miller (cerebral palsy) conquered a wheelchair, crutches, braces and a cane to learn to walk alone and to be named the outstanding representative from the Civil Service Commission itself.
Next, Philip Pepper (polio) who was President of his class at U.C.L.A. with a Master's degree in social welfare and presently the distinguished Chief of the Office of Program Planning and Evaluation, Indian Health Service, for H.E.W.; Miss Magdalene Phillips (blind) a dictating machine transcriber at Letterman Army Hospital takes the dictation of six medical officers and in her spare time counsels newly blinded patients.
As if this were not enough to make you proud and inspired the last of the 10 nominees was called forward for his citation. He walked across the stage. So, what's so great about walking across the stage?
Bob Smith, a combat rifleman in Korea in the winter of 1950 was presented by the Veterans Administration by Administrator Don Johnson. Bob was shot, taken prisoner, and held for ten days without food or medical attention. His wounds, aggravated by frost bite and infection, necessitate a quadruple amputation. Since 1955 he has been with the VA from tabulating machine operator to computer programmer.
Bob refused to be handicapped. With pride and determination he walked across the stage to meet Harold Russell, Chairman of the President's Committee on Employment of the Handicapped, himself a double amputee.
Someone in the audience quipped, "The Iron Men are at work," as four artificial arms and functional hooks grasped the plaque. Who could better carry the title Outstanding Handicapped Federal Employee of the Year?
Bob Smith opened his own door to opportunity and as the program said, "He's making sure the door stays open for others now traveling that hard road back."
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
December 3, 2008
March 1970
So what's your Thing?... I guess the young fellow was a Mod and wanted to know what I do to keep active. Did he think the League was the Establishment or was I?
My Thing was a Trip and I'd like to arrange his travel in a plane or a ship. Perhaps a bus or a train. Had he read the schedule in the Register or called the numbers for Trips he could take? Man we can give you a Fix on most any place in a hurry. Before you know it you'll Be-In, Switched-On, and finding everything Groovy. If you want something Neat why not leave your Pad and look for Grass that is really green.
You can save Bread and not rob the mint through LFRA Travel Discounts. The Roll you won't need like from the bank and a Rock is outdated to be perfectly frank. So you can be a Swinger and not Hang-Up the phone. You don't want to be a Pill, worry about being a little Hippie and going to Pot. You need to get Hooked on our Travel Program and head for the Cool breezes of the Southern Seas. Fly with the Birds of a feather and leave the Fuzz to the Chickens.
Just to let you know the League Travel Program is up-to-date and we are Psychedelirious about it... It is not a matter of sending you on some Freak Scene journey. We have something to talk about and we want to say it in language all can understand.
If we lost you somewhere along the line, join the crowd. We are really Square and don't quite know how to tell you the full story in a few column inches. Try our phones and tell us what is wanted. If we don't have the trip in a package, we can soon tie one up to suit your taste.
In addition to such down to earth things as travel discounts and discount buying, the League needs to know there are those members who want the services it can provide. It must also know there are those willing to give some time to advance the broad base upon which it is established.
All who work with the League are "part-time." Each of us has another primary responsibility and what we do for the League and its membership comes from the heart and the pocketbook.
Those who give of themselves are the planners, the organizers, the workers and the Voice. Theirs is not a voice of protest; they want no act of disrespect or defiance of the law; these are part of America, a most vital part in the role of Public Servant.
Perhaps the League is the Establishment but it represents the best that America can boast. These are folks who make our country tick and who recognize that freedom demands a price -- It Is Not Free.
We of the League roll with the times in appreciation of a goodly heritage and in recognition of a the need to be current. We are working to make things just a little better for all who serve in the government related domain.
Perhaps there is an opportunity for you to participate a little beyond yourself and your present status in serving your own Recreation and Welfare Association.
There is room for you to help lift the League. We need news, participation, people going places on our Trips and above all the understanding Name of Big League for our 140,000 members and 56 Associations. "In the soul of a seed is the hope of the sod. In the heart of a child is the Kingdom of God." To Grow we Go Right On Working!
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
My Thing was a Trip and I'd like to arrange his travel in a plane or a ship. Perhaps a bus or a train. Had he read the schedule in the Register or called the numbers for Trips he could take? Man we can give you a Fix on most any place in a hurry. Before you know it you'll Be-In, Switched-On, and finding everything Groovy. If you want something Neat why not leave your Pad and look for Grass that is really green.
You can save Bread and not rob the mint through LFRA Travel Discounts. The Roll you won't need like from the bank and a Rock is outdated to be perfectly frank. So you can be a Swinger and not Hang-Up the phone. You don't want to be a Pill, worry about being a little Hippie and going to Pot. You need to get Hooked on our Travel Program and head for the Cool breezes of the Southern Seas. Fly with the Birds of a feather and leave the Fuzz to the Chickens.
Just to let you know the League Travel Program is up-to-date and we are Psychedelirious about it... It is not a matter of sending you on some Freak Scene journey. We have something to talk about and we want to say it in language all can understand.
If we lost you somewhere along the line, join the crowd. We are really Square and don't quite know how to tell you the full story in a few column inches. Try our phones and tell us what is wanted. If we don't have the trip in a package, we can soon tie one up to suit your taste.
In addition to such down to earth things as travel discounts and discount buying, the League needs to know there are those members who want the services it can provide. It must also know there are those willing to give some time to advance the broad base upon which it is established.
All who work with the League are "part-time." Each of us has another primary responsibility and what we do for the League and its membership comes from the heart and the pocketbook.
Those who give of themselves are the planners, the organizers, the workers and the Voice. Theirs is not a voice of protest; they want no act of disrespect or defiance of the law; these are part of America, a most vital part in the role of Public Servant.
Perhaps the League is the Establishment but it represents the best that America can boast. These are folks who make our country tick and who recognize that freedom demands a price -- It Is Not Free.
We of the League roll with the times in appreciation of a goodly heritage and in recognition of a the need to be current. We are working to make things just a little better for all who serve in the government related domain.
Perhaps there is an opportunity for you to participate a little beyond yourself and your present status in serving your own Recreation and Welfare Association.
There is room for you to help lift the League. We need news, participation, people going places on our Trips and above all the understanding Name of Big League for our 140,000 members and 56 Associations. "In the soul of a seed is the hope of the sod. In the heart of a child is the Kingdom of God." To Grow we Go Right On Working!
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
November 28, 2008
February 1970
He looked me square in the eye and said, "Now tell me what the League is in a position to do for us." The Association President who said that to a new Executive Director had just treated him and the LFRA President to a fine luncheon in the fine dining area of a large agency.
Time had been spent viewing the many activities and opportunities provided R&W members of his association. There was a garage, barber shop, health room, dry cleaning outlet, discount store and a travel department. I was impressed! Then came the bomb..."What can the League do...?"
I have not forgotten the question or the President. He accepted my most inadequate answer and hopefully will note this attempt to face the same question a year and a half later for the benefit of all of the 140,000 who have at least indirect interest in what the League can do for them.
Although he is from one of the larger agency members of the LFRA, this President and his officers have continued to lend much support to the efforts of the 56 member League. They don't really need the League but they recognize a potential in the unification of all the associations with a common purpose.
The larger members can give assistance and do. The smaller ones seek direction and support. They also give some help in establishing buying power, objectives and services. All pay nominal dues which make the memberships in the respective agency associations entitle each individual member to LFRA membership also.
What Can The Leagues Do? There may be an impossible dream, an unreachable star, a new dawn for this cumbersome, overgrown and awkward youngster called the League of Federal Recreation Associations.
What the doubting Thomases don't seem to know or understand is the dedication of the hardy souls who have given thousands of hours to their volunteer time to make the League tick. They see the potential and are willing to sacrifice and struggle just to see things jell. Don't sell them short!
What makes one who has been in the depths more than once so sure of the big image and the anticipated realization of the potential of federation? The answer is people: Guys and gals who want something for the career employee in the way of credit for service, recognition for dedication, and the opportunity to enjoy social events and discount buying.
There appear to be five major divisions which make the future League worthy of your participation and backing. First there is this newspaper. Here is a means of communication which can and will tell the story as it is and to all the people. It is growing and needs help in securing more advertising, more news and pictures, and the assurance there will be someone from each agency willing to pick up the copies each month and see that they are circulated to the membership.
Second, the need is apparent for a well organized and aggressive travel program. This is being developed on an extensive scale and will mean funds with which to operate the League and to better serve the members.
Other divisions to be anticipated and now well into the planning and implementation stages are Discount Buying, Mutual Funds and Investments, and Insurance. As these last three unfold the true potential of the League will begin to be revealed. The volunteer efforts of many to whom so much is owed will be recognized.
Legislation to provide more benefits and highter morale can be sought with some degree of confidence. More agency associations will find a reason for belonging. There will indeed be a better mousetrap and businessmen with insight will indeed beat a pathway to the League door.
I am sure enough of the tomorrow of LFRA to be willing to give it some more volunteer hours. Others feel the same way. There is room for you, your interest, your suggestions and your involvement.
I want to thank the man who asked what the League can do for his membership. He started the wheels turning and one of these days I'd like to take him to dinner in The League Building.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
Time had been spent viewing the many activities and opportunities provided R&W members of his association. There was a garage, barber shop, health room, dry cleaning outlet, discount store and a travel department. I was impressed! Then came the bomb..."What can the League do...?"
I have not forgotten the question or the President. He accepted my most inadequate answer and hopefully will note this attempt to face the same question a year and a half later for the benefit of all of the 140,000 who have at least indirect interest in what the League can do for them.
Although he is from one of the larger agency members of the LFRA, this President and his officers have continued to lend much support to the efforts of the 56 member League. They don't really need the League but they recognize a potential in the unification of all the associations with a common purpose.
The larger members can give assistance and do. The smaller ones seek direction and support. They also give some help in establishing buying power, objectives and services. All pay nominal dues which make the memberships in the respective agency associations entitle each individual member to LFRA membership also.
What Can The Leagues Do? There may be an impossible dream, an unreachable star, a new dawn for this cumbersome, overgrown and awkward youngster called the League of Federal Recreation Associations.
What the doubting Thomases don't seem to know or understand is the dedication of the hardy souls who have given thousands of hours to their volunteer time to make the League tick. They see the potential and are willing to sacrifice and struggle just to see things jell. Don't sell them short!
What makes one who has been in the depths more than once so sure of the big image and the anticipated realization of the potential of federation? The answer is people: Guys and gals who want something for the career employee in the way of credit for service, recognition for dedication, and the opportunity to enjoy social events and discount buying.
There appear to be five major divisions which make the future League worthy of your participation and backing. First there is this newspaper. Here is a means of communication which can and will tell the story as it is and to all the people. It is growing and needs help in securing more advertising, more news and pictures, and the assurance there will be someone from each agency willing to pick up the copies each month and see that they are circulated to the membership.
Second, the need is apparent for a well organized and aggressive travel program. This is being developed on an extensive scale and will mean funds with which to operate the League and to better serve the members.
Other divisions to be anticipated and now well into the planning and implementation stages are Discount Buying, Mutual Funds and Investments, and Insurance. As these last three unfold the true potential of the League will begin to be revealed. The volunteer efforts of many to whom so much is owed will be recognized.
Legislation to provide more benefits and highter morale can be sought with some degree of confidence. More agency associations will find a reason for belonging. There will indeed be a better mousetrap and businessmen with insight will indeed beat a pathway to the League door.
I am sure enough of the tomorrow of LFRA to be willing to give it some more volunteer hours. Others feel the same way. There is room for you, your interest, your suggestions and your involvement.
I want to thank the man who asked what the League can do for his membership. He started the wheels turning and one of these days I'd like to take him to dinner in The League Building.
David L. Brigham
Executive Director
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