Welcome to my World

Welcome to the domain different--to paraphrase from New Mexico's capital city of Santa Fe which bills itself "The City Different." Perhaps this space is not completely unique but my world shapes what I write as well as many other facets of my life. The four Ds figure prominently but there are many other things as well. Here you will learn what makes me tick, what thrills and inspires me, experiences that impact my life and many other antidotes, vignettes and journal notes that set the paradigm for Dierdre O'Dare and her alter ego Gwynn Morgan and the fiction and poetry they write. I sell nothing here--just share with friends and others who may wander in. There will be pictures, poems, observations, rants on occasion and sometimes even jokes. Welcome to our world!

Saturday, June 28, 2025

Memoir Monday, Jun 30, 1967

 Little to reconstruct from as I wrote nothing for a week or more about this point.. There were a few events or non-events that I alluded to after the long holiday weekend. I will try to unravel that. The one page I wrote follows. It was on Monday, June 26.

By the time the weekend rolled around, and the Independence Day holiday was coming up, I think I was not enthused to go back and that weekend stretched with an extra day. For several I wrote not at all. That will pick up with the next week's, I guess, since that Friday would be July 7. 

Monday, June 26, 1967. 

Monday again. It wasn't a bad weekend at home. Saturday I got to drive all the way to Camp Verde and back. I do like driving. Didn't ride much. It was miserably hot and the cooler is on the blink.  Last night I came back up on the bus. Mama Witt had been trying too call so I called her. I'd been surprised to see a message in my box.  I reassured her, I think,. At least I tried. I am not sure what Mom had been writing in recent weeks. But probably not very cheerful!

Now I've already changed the sheets and done my washing, Lynn and I went to breakfast this morning, not a real usual thing. I'm ready to go off to classes in about half an hour. It's hard to write anymore --not much happens. At least now I don't have to worry so much. For now, the madness of last week has calmed down. Gotta go home again next weekend but meanwhile I'll just sit back and relax through this week.  Have to run a bunch of errands today after lunch so may go to the library to study tonight. May, that is. Now if only Dusty would call, I'd feel nearly okay about almost everything. But he could be anywhere, like flat on his back in a hospital with asthma like this time last year.  Darn, I should not worry so, but I do...

A few minor explains: The cooler was a window one-room air conditioning unit that was in the living room at Clarkdale. Mostly Dad worked in there on his legal and paper stuff,  so  Charlie Mike and I both avoided it most of the time. We'd rather sweat than get any of those  lectures! I am pretty sure the water was shut off at this time so we would take the seven  horses to the river to drink, often twice a day. .Luckily Buzzie and Leo were gentle and reliable now and we did not even have to saddle up. The others led well enough also. One of us would ride Leo and lead Chief and maybe one of the mares or fillies if they were clearly not in season.  The other on Buzzie would have a handful of  three on lead.There was one young donkey too; not sure what we did for him.  As to driving to Camp Verde, not sure why. Maybe to get feed or groceries rather than shop in local store.  Maybe had too big a bill at the Clarkdale or Cottonwood store and did not want a hassle about that being paid? Things were so haywire at this point. How in any holy name did the Old Man think he could go on existing that way? There is no answer except he was truly detached from all reality.I was so grateful to have a place to go and get away from it. I felt so sorry for Charlie Mike and even Alex, for he was now old enough to see how effed up things were.

Pictures are scare!. Flagstaff was lovely in the summer and that was a bright spot in my weeks there in 1967. I enjoyed it every year  from 1967, 1968, 1969 and half of 1970. I wish I had more photos, many were lost when my hard drive died in 2018. We have never been able to get any of it reclaimed. Two views were probably out near Lake Mary and one at the snow bowl  ski area and summer hiking region on the San Francisco Peaks. That was roommate Lynn's Chevy Nova--nice car!


  



 

Saturday, June 21, 2025

Memoir Monday, June 23, 1967

 So another week slides by, too easy, too fast and it feels like more of the same dull beads slipping along a a cord, a rosary of my days. What stations do they pass? What prayers or offerings are needed? Looking back so very far it feels strange, almost unreal. This week back then I actually wrote a page on two days, Monday, June 19 and Friday, June 23. This post is for the 23rd but I will put them in chronological order to save any extra explanations or repetitions. Let's time travel. 

Monday June 19, 1967

I may as well leave off trying to keep a diary or journal. The days are mostly routine with minor joys and sorrows and an occasional accomplishment. Today I got a $50 check and a nice letter from Uncle Dan. I put half of it in my account, paid off my record bill, and kept the remainder. I made a 1 on my first Econ test. The first in Stats tomorrow. It was a dull, lonely weekend as Lynn took off and I was all alone. Still no word from Dusty. Will I ever? Maybe I will get a letter from Jim tomorrow. That is a poor second  best but I want to do something besides make 1s and dream about Prince Charming.  I'm coming down with a bad case of the blues--better snap out of it, girl. Everything is too easy. I should go look for a job. I am really an awful coward...

Friday, June 23, 1967

Summer--three days old now.It feels like summer, too, except for the wind. I feel sick as a dog. Too many worries plus two cups of coffee on an almost empty stomach. It was sure not considerate of the Boss to say he'd come by and tell me what all had happened and then to disappear without a word. especially after telling me all those gruesome tales. I sure had a doozy of a nightmare last night. We were tangling with a bunch of the local 'enemies'.* I sassed them some and started to leave and this Chinese guy threw a silver wedge/ax/ knife/star at me. The device settled in my head, right at the temple. I kept thinking they would catch me but they didn't. Somehow I staggered up to Jerome and banged on Jimmy Mac's door. I collapsed at his feet when he opened it. I had blood crusted in my hair and on my face. He said he'd take me to the  hospital and I screamed. "No! No,they will kill  me! Take me over to Prescott." I wanted to go to Whipple but of course couldn't so chose the County Hospital instead.  That was about the end. Geez, I mean it was gnarly. Lynn said she didn't sleep well either.  I don't think I was yelling...  Of course I am worried about Dusty, too. I'm not even sure he found the numbers but he must have since I am positive he was there that Tuesday to get part of his stuff.  But I really do wish I knew how and where he is. I'd like to call but don't know where or what I'd say depending on who might answer. 

A kind of diatribe follows; read at your discretion. 

*As to those "enemies",  they were named in the original narrative. I have not done so here out of respect for younger generations who were generally not responsible.  First I freely acknowledge that my male parent was an unmitigated asshat  and  brought a great deal of the issues on himself. However, I have to say in his behalf that he was an extreme narcissist but also had severe mental illness such as delusions of many kinds, major paranoia and possibly others.  I think he often felt he was literally fighting for his life, and acted that way. This fact was established in court that fall on another issue. While none of that excuses much he did, it was a proximate cause and verified fact. 

My major issue with those now unnamed people is how they were not abashed, actually almost seemed delighted to go after me and my brother without mercy and did so. I was a legal adult, thus not free of blame, although the psychology of enmeshed families was not well understood then so I might plead some immunity in that circumstance.  However,  Charlie Mike was **fifteen** at this time, legally a minor and thus a 'child' under the law. The abuse and hatefulness he was subjected to is inexcusable IMO. I cannot forgive it or those who did it. That level of abusive meanness was totally uncalled for. A few did step in and try to help him, one especially being Tom Henry, then a teacher as Mingus. I honor him for his decency and humanity, even while under political pressure of the school board which included some of those most bent on "getting even." Charlie Mike never forgot him and I did not either.  May he rest now in well-earned peace. 

Even after the whole family was out of the state, an effort was made to subpoena and drag me back from Flagstaff. I suspect the instigator wanted to seize the few horses I had taken charge of and was finding good homes for so I could realize no benefit from them. That was personal and I am still angry. I believe Dr McDonald intervened and quashed that effort. I was never arrested or brought to court. I did rehome them and got a half-penny on the dollar of their true value but it was far more important to me to see them in good  trustworthy homes which I did.  I still damn the greed and hate that drove such an ill-intended effort.  I will not forget, not ever.  Make of all this what you will.  At least it may explain some of my fierce aversion to the current political situation which has given me recurring to almost constant PTSD. 

Photos: All a few years earlier but just to remind myself and my readers about how we lived and what our lives were like when a group of adults who were mad at our father decided we were as guilty if not more.  We obviously really needed to be "put in our place",  no? Who was I, a toxic, trashy Morgan,  to be highest in my class and actually go to college? And who was Charlie Mike to even exist in the same world they and their offspring  did?  I try not to be bitter since it is all far in the past. I do not always succeed however. 






Sunday, June 15, 2025

Memoir Monday, June 16, 1967

Ended this week back at the U after a long but also fast two weeks down in the valley, a time tangled in trauma, trouble, dread and uncertainty about much of the future.  But all things do pass, this epoch not completely or for some time but it did.

June 16, 1967 a Friday

Already? One week of summer school gone, just like that. Had a quiz in Econ today which I think I did okay on. Got a letter from Jim on Wednesday which I answered last night.  Wednesday night I was home--I had to deliver some "documents" to Dr D Bright and Sam Slaughter. We came back up early on Thursday  I now have rugs on the floor and my phonograph to play. That's nice, no? Jim was very apologetic and signed 'love' which seems to be his habit now. I've got to to establish a positive schedule to get more done. I can't afford to let the whole summer slip away from me. I went to the library to study last night. I am going to have to work to get A/1 in these two classes. Got some photos back. I'm going to send some to Charlie Mike plus a radio battery and any other treat I can think of because he had to miss the trip yesterday. Someone apparently had set fire to Twinkles' feedbox and we saw it just as we were leaving so he got out and stayed. I got a letter from Mary that came to Clarkdale. She is in California now. I gave the folks $50 and have the same in the bank. Haven't paid RCA yet but I'm not really sure what I owe so I'll wait on a bill.  It is now 1:00 pm and I guess I'll go uptown in a little while. Lynn has probably taken off with her guy.Just have to bea back by 6:000 for dinner.  None of mine are here. I wish Dusty would call. They brought his old 193680 back to the outfit in Clarkdale on Tuesday., Have the popcorn popper here now too, so I can cook some with it, heat stuff. anyway Guess I'll say Hasty Luegi (the cook at a busy pizza parlor, you know) Oooow, that is corny!

Explains? The'documents' were part of some lawsuit crap. I just acted as a process server, unofficial, of courses. Dr Bright was on the Clarkdale City Council  then and Slaughter was or had been the brand inspector.  Was the feedbox fire the next day related? Have no clue. There had been odd acts of vandalism for months but I was never sure of the cause or the perps. I had thought the foreman car came back sooner but this seems accurate.  I had two or three Good Will rugs I used to warm the cold tile floor in my room. Recall they were pink and fairly light.

So back to the prior weekend or at least my return on June 12. What went on from June 13-15 was not recorded except a bit on Friday. I think I stayed on campus for the next weekend after the brief visit midweek..

June 12, 1967 The "vacation" is all over, Last night the old Silver Eagle sped me up the road and dropped me off at the south entrance gate to campus. Walking, I was picked up  by a sharp looking guy in a convertible from whom I will probably never see or hear of again and he delivered me to the dorm. I climbed the stairs and opened the door to 323 to find I had a roommate. I really think I'l be glad. I thought she'd be a cat, but she's nice, tall and lean, a little like Maureen and teaches PE at Tuba City. She comes from a ranch in New Mexico. Her name is Lynn Erickson.  I had dreaded the day but there was not a slip. It all rolled off smooth as satin. Now to hit two courses for five weeks and make some more ones. Statistics is going to be hard, I fear, but I'll work on it. I've got to see about a job--maybe I could babysit from 1:00 to 5:00 for older students back for continuing education etc. It is almost too quiet after the noise at "home". Lynn is very quiet. So far I have had phenomenal luck with roommates. Registration is over and I ran through $200 of the $300 I got.  I am taking Economics I and Statistics, five mornings a week and done before noon. All I have to buy now is one more book. I'm really tired but I had dinner and took a nap. The cafeteria is a fair walk away, the one the athletes use in the regular year, where Mary worked. It is 8:00 now and I am wishing Dusty would call.. Oh, I got my last semester grades. I did okay on that home stretch and came in under the wire.  Five lovely ones!!! I could hardly believe but very happy!! A couple were very unexpected!  Man and the Arts--wow, that class had been so dismal and I was sure Dr Smallwood hated me!

A few random pictures:  An example of a Continental Trailways bus like I traveled in a lot  for a couple of years. It seems they had once been affiliated with the AT&SF but how and when I don't know.Then another view from my Wilson room--dark and poor shot. I cannot identify the cafeteria here. At that time this was the far south end of campus!  I never got a picture of Lynn but recall her as tall, blonde and rather athletic looking. We got along flawlessly but hardly associated on a social level. Last is a very old shot from spring 1958 which shows the corrals in Clarkdale much as they were until the last with a few more pens tacked on. This was when we traded two mules with the Grand Canyon ride concession. One wrangler and Charley Bryant were talking while Dad and the head wrangler. finished the swap.