Polaroid album

My mother gave me a little red Polaroid album a while back, and I have finally gotten around to scanning the pictures. The photos begin with Thanksgiving and Christmas at Foxley, then a trip to the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, and finally Easter photos in the front yard at Foxley. Polaroids were certainly fun and convenient--but they don't have a date printed on the back of them like processed film. I know that the Polaroid Swinger camera was produced between 1965 and 1970. The photos are certainly from that era. Julie and Rich were married in 1967, and they appear together here, possibly in their first home in one. Ganny died in July 1970, and Doc Bussler died in 1972. Do you see Anna Bussler in any of the pictures?--she died in October 1967. I'm going to do my best to identify everyone below the photos, but please help me if you know who is in the pictures and when they were taken. Thanks!



Thanksgiving at Gladys and Dave's home Foxley. Around the table clockwise: Young Dave's eyeglasses and nose (my father), Rich, Julie, an unknown man whose hands are in the picture, Dottie, Vernon, at the head of the table is Gladys (my grandmother), unknown young lady, Ganny (my great-grandmother), the top of Pat's head, unknown young lady with dark hair, Liz in white sweater holding food (my mother), and unknown young lady with blonde hair. One of the unidentified young ladies is probably Dottie's daughter Anita.



Thanksgiving at Foxley, around the table clockwise: Ganny (my great-grandmother), Pat , unknown young lady with dark hair, Liz (my mother), unknown young lady with blonde hair, at the head of the table again is Gladys (my grandmother), Dave (my father), Rich, Julie, unknown man, Dottie, and Vernon Swiger.



My grandmother's sister Dorothy Beall Swiger. This is the dining room at Foxley on Thanksgiving.



Christmas at Foxley: Dave unwrapping an aquarium set (my father), Gladys cleaning her glasses (my grandmother), and Ganny (my great-grandmother).



Julie next to the Christmas tree. This does not look like Foxley--maybe it was taken at her new home with Rich.





It looks like my grandparents went to see the Liberty Bell with Julie and Rich. The first photo shows the backs of heads: stranger, Rich, and Julie. The second shows Gladys in a fur coat, the Liberty Bell, Rich, and Julie. This is perhaps the fur coat my grandfather gave her as a Christmas gift one year, wrapped in a garbage bag.





Always collies at Foxley. This little one appears prominently in the Easter photos, too.



Dave (my grandfather) snoozing in a wingback in his stocking feet.



The bow tie is a dead giveaway: this is Doc Bussler.





Easter at Foxley, clockwise starting at the top: Rich, Julie, Young Dave, Gladys, and Pat.



Easter at Foxley, clockwise starting at the top: Rich, Julie, Pat, Gladys, and Big Dave.

November 1970

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

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

November 1969

My dad took walks in the woods with his boys. Word gems fell as often as hickory nuts. It is appropriate to recall now as we launch another venture for the League, "there are two ways to get to the top of an oak tree...you can either start climbing or you can sit on an acorn until you get there."

We are most pleased to be bringing the first edition of our Recreation Register to our members. We must depend on your interest, circulation efforts and advertising response to assure future issues.

Many local "editors" will have a hand in the tomorrow of these pages. Our well over 50 member associations have named those who will be reporting for them.

The "How it is Done" in one association will become the "How to Do It" for another. Each will be offering success stories to others seeking an new way to accomplish similar benefits for their association or membership.

SUBSTANTIAL ASSETS. So many have done so much in such a short time to give the League substance and strength. There have been generous donations of time, interest, effort, and grey matter.

The variation at this moment brings to mind Emerson's debate between the Mountain and the Squirrel. The mountain wanted it known he carried an entire forest upon his back, even the nut tree from which the squirrel ate. Who can forget the retort of the squirrel, "Yes, but you can't crack a nut."

SERVICES RENDERED. The League's sole "reason for being" is service to the membership. But, in order to fulfill its purpose, we, as any growing, thriving organization, must combine our scattered efforts.

Accordingly, the desire of the leadership is to establish a base from which to do for the members. Involvement with new ideas, up-to-the-minute needs, and suggestions for ways and means have been made the order of the day.

Good communication is the springboard from which the full potential of activity will be realized. All who have moments to spare are urged to participate in local employee associations and to stretch a little further into League participation.

Each one will have a little different approach, a slightly different talent or ability, and something special to offer. The main thrust is to have people doing and thinking. As you have thoughts or hopes, direct them to your officers, R&W Associations, League officials, or this publication.

VARIETY MOLDS. The beauty of a quilt or of an autumn landscape lies not so much in the individual patches and leaves. Rather the pattern and design and variety of color and shape make the difference.

So it is with the development of ideas, the contribution of energy and talent, the participation of each segment in the function of a "League" of folks. They come in assorted shapes and sizes. The ages vary almost from the teens to the seventies. The objectives, desires and interests are so diverse they cover, as no other group can, the cross section that makes America.

OUR POTENTIAL. The League is in its infancy of both existence and potential. Howe well those presently at the helm throw the challenge of participation to those who have not yet heard about or grasped the big image will determine how far and how fast the growth is to be.

Today a few labor for others that tomorrow they and thousands like them may be served. There are some who believe the lot, the morale and the recognition of the Federal employee can be improved. There are some willing to help bring the days of realization more rapidly to fruition. Are you? Will you?

Every voice speaks loudly to us. Every hand can lift a little, and every mind can project a thought. Together we grow...

David L. Brigham
Executive Director