Home Schooled

When Jackie and I had our own driver testing organization we loved nothing better than getting appointments from the home school crowd. They could come in for their tests in the middle of the day and who wouldn't be excited to learn that the child driving a 15 passenger van was the oldest of many more to come. For us this was good business. For them the test was much more than the route to a driver's license. It was a field trip learning experience.

Initially I expected that kids were home schooled for mostly religious reasons and would show up wearing home made outfits. Buzz headed boys and long haired girls would have little personality because they were sheltered from the stimulation of mixing with the teeming masses inhabiting our school systems. Experience proved me quite wrong. Oh sure, some matched that description but we discovered that there were dozens of other reasons parents educated their precious ones at home. We also found out that most of these children were involved in numerous out of the home activities with other children. And most told me they were very happy being home schooled.

Home schooling is a big commitment for the parents.  Fortunately today there are a lot of materials available and multiple systems that one could choose to help them maneuver through the grades.  Plus there is so much that can be done now with a computer.  And it was interesting that a lot of the parents that I talked to had been teachers or otherwise involved in education.  If Jackie and I had known more about what was available we might have been interested for our own brood, except for one little problem.  Jackie and Ceci would most definitely have killed each other in the process.  Yeah, that wouldn't have been good.

This week I did a driving test for Hannah, a fresh faced, well dressed 18 year old junior college freshman. I asked her what she was going to major in and she said that she really liked geography. “GEOGRAPHY!” I exclaimed. “No one likes geography. Americans are rated like last in the world for their geographic knowledge. Why may I ask did you choose that field?” “Well it's just something that I've always been interested in.” I encourage Hannah; “You go girl!”

I then ask Hannah where she went to high school. Looking slightly embarrassed Hannah tells me that she was home schooled.  When I inquired if she liked being home schooled she scrunched up her nose and replied; "Kinda".  "What was the problem?"

I found out that Hannah started her home schooling at the 3^rd grade level and that she did most of her studies at home on the computer. Hannah's parents were wary about the local schools and were concerned about both her safety and the quality of education offered. However they worked and could offer no help with any questions Hannah had until they got home at night. When she was younger she did have an older brother and sister who were also being educated at home but in her high school years she was flying alone.  The only outside activity Hannah mentioned was that she played soccer on a home school team.

“Do you have any other interests, such as music?” “Oh, like most home schooled girls I play a little piano.” says Hannah.  I laugh. “Is that one of those home school stereotypes?”

“You mean like long jean skirts?” says Hannah with a smile. “Exactly” I answer.

Just then my brain puts together all the pieces and I tell Hannah I figured out her story.  "For years you were mostly alone in your basement, doing your school work on the computer.  Maybe occasionally you would head upstairs and fool with the piano.  Once a year and only during soccer season were you able to get out of the house, twice a week.  Once a week for practice and once a week for the game.  Other than that you would sit at that computer and search out places like Tahiti or the Rockies and dream of one day traveling there to see the wonderful sights.  That's why you are interested in geography.  It all makes sense now.  Am I any way accurate on my assessment?"

Hannah laughs and responds; "You pretty well described my life."

She then asks me if I have any kids and so I brag about having 5 children and my 22nd grandchild on the way.  "I love being a grandfather" I tell 18 year old Hannah.  And someday after you travel the world you will love being a grandmother.  First you need to find the right guy, and get married, and have your own kids."

"I would really like that" says Hannah.  Of course I knew she would.  She's been home schooled.

 

River Trip To San Francisco

In 2007 my nephew Jim Berry was having a May wedding in the San Francisco area and I wondered if it was possible to arrive there via boat, picking up family as close as we could to where they lived.  After researching the matter and finding it indeed possible I posted the route on the Johnson family blog.  Here is what I found  (map at bottom of post):

We undo the mooring ropes of the Jimmy B. at Lake Macatawa in Holland (after the Kuipers arrive down the Grand River from Grand Rapids), head out the channel to Lake Michigan and go south to Saugatuck where we venture up the Kalamazoo River, past Kalamazoo, to Galesburg, and then back through Kalamazoo to Lake Michigan. We then beeline across the lake to Milwaukee, turning south to the Navy Pier in Chicago, and then down the Chicago Sanitary Canal to the Des Plains River. 

Near Joliet we pick up the Illinois River, winding our way south through Peoria to just north of St. Louis. At that point we pick up the Mississippi River south for a short distance before heading west on the Missouri River, winding through Missouri to Kansas City where the Missouri River heads north along the Missouri/Kansas border, north along the Missouri/Nebraska border, and when we get to the northern part of Missouri we take a short detour up the Nishnabotna River which gets us to a few miles from Sidney, Iowa. 

Retracing our route south to the Missouri River we then head north to just below Omaha, Nebraska, picking up the Platte River. The Platte River will take us west, through Kearney, through North Platte, then into Colorado and onto Denver. 

Once again we retrace our route east to pick up the Missouri River again, go north, past Omaha and head to Pierre, South Dakota, then to Bismark, North Dakota, then northwest to Great Falls, Montana. At Great Falls we need to pick up the Jefferson River south to Beaver head River to New Hawkins Lake. There is a little tributary from New Hawkins Lake in Montana to the Lemhi Pass, which is 8000 feet high. 

At this point we need to carry our boat a few miles over the pass, into Idaho, to pick up a tributary which flows into the Salmon River in Idaho. We should be ready for the portage at this point because there are about 200 dams we had to go around on the Missouri River to get this far so we have had plenty of practice. Hopefully we picked up a lot of family along the way for just this occasion. 

Anyway, the Salmon River goes northwest and meets up with the Snake River on the Oregon border. We still head north through Idaho to Washington where we pick up the Columbia River which goes west and exits into the Pacific Ocean. Next we need to go south to California and dock nearest to where the wedding will be. Once there we break up the boat for firewood and have a grand bonfire before the wedding. One note, in order to make it in time we need to leave on January 15.

This lead to a subsequent post:

Easter on the Jimmy B

I talked to Holli today and she wanted me to let everyone know how things were going on our boat excursion West. Here is my report:

Spring has come in all its glory. The 1st wildflowers are visible along the river banks, bugs of all sizes and colors dart to and fro over the placid, sun baked river surface, and river dolphins jump playfully over our wake.

 When my great great grandfather, Captain Joseph LaBarge, piloted his steam powered paddle boats along the Missouri River, they would have to replenish their fuel by stopping at wood piles along the way. This could be dangerous because Indians knew that these were good locations for an ambush. In the years since the mid 1800's the tribes have become much more sophisticated in their tactics, making riverboats anchored at major port cities into gambling establishments. So far our intrepid group has managed to escape with our lives. 

We are in Montana now and while docking for supplies I took a side trip South to a town called LaBarge, Wyoming. During WWII my uncle Jack was on a troop train going West and the train made a very short stop at LaBarge. He jumped out of the train and ran into the nearest bar and asked the bartender "Are there any LaBarges here?" The bartender replied "See that large oak tree out front?  Hung a LaBarge on that tree last week." At that point my uncle spun around and trotted back to the train. 

My brother Jim, not deterred by our uncles experience, visited there a couple years ago. He went to the local library to read about the towns history. Seems that at one time oil was discovered there and the name of the town was changed to Oil City. When the oil ran out the town fathers, in their great wisdom, changed the name once again to LaBarge. 

When I got back to the boat I thought about how the route we are taking is very much the same as that traveled at the start of the 1800's by Lewis and Clark. Lewis would ride the boat while the crew would pull or pole the boat upstream. Clark however would walk the entire way. On the Jimmy B. the captain is called behind his back, the Lord High Commander. He has been known to enforce discipline by making certain passengers get out of the boat. We call that "Doing a Clark." If they have to jump in the water to push us off a sandbar we call that "Doing a Clark bar." We find humor where ever we can after several long months on the river.

One last post went with  this series:

 THE WRECK OF THE JIMMY B. sung by Gordon Lightfoot

Twas the seventh of May
we had traveled all day
down the lake they call Pac-if-a-goo-me

Our spirits were high
not a cloud in the sky
we were getting to San Fran so surely

From galley to head
really kicking the lead
but the captain was getting a bit surly

"There's a storm brewing mates
when we get to the gates
of the golden bay near Salsalito

We've traveled this far
not by train, air or car
all on water to here from Toledo

But the oceans turned white
while day changed into night
and our engine is working like jello

So he went down below
at a break in the blow
when he tasted last nights burrito

No one had the wheel
and a wave hit the keel
and the boat went all kinda curly

The captain it's said
didn't exit the head
when the gales of November came early.

And He Said "Come!"

I grew up near the shore of a great lake and probably because of that my mother thought that it would be a good idea if I learned how to swim.  Our family spent summers in a very pleasant cottage nestled a top of a forested sand dune and during one of those glorious childhood days I was asked to leave family and friends and head to waters warmed by the Consumers Power Plant discharge in nearby Port Sheldon.  There a certain doctor conducted his swimming experiments by making young boys and girls splash unaided across a channel.  Swim or sink was the brilliant idea.  I sank.

Halfway across my doggie paddle ran out of gas resulting in me sinking below the surface while raising one hand above the water and making finger signs - One! - Two! - Three!  The "instructor" managed to get me before I ran out of fingers and that was my first and last lesson at Port Sheldon.  I suppose this experience was slightly better than the guy who said that his very demanding father taught him to swim by taking him out to the middle of a lake in their row boat and dumping him in.  "That was pretty rough" said the person hearing the story.  "No, the rough part was biting through the duck tape and then getting out of the burlap bag" said the guy.

My closest brush with death came during my late teen years while I was foolishly body surfing some large white capped waves alone one very windy day on the edge of our great lake.  I was waist deep one moment and then stepped into a hole in the sandy bottom where I could no longer stand with my head above water.  The undertow was taking me out and I swam and fought as hard as I could with the waves to make it back in.  I remember laying on the beach for about an hour, totally exhausted, thankful for life.

A friend of mine grew up on Beaver Island which is situated in the Northern part of Lake Michigan.  One day he told me something very interesting.  A lot of the permanent residents of the island either fish for a living or have some type of employment having to do with being on the lake.  The waters up there are usually a lot colder than where we live in South West Michigan and so many of the island people do not know how to swim.  To put it simply he said, if something happens to their boat and they don't have adequate floatation devices, which many don't, they are screwed.

There is a story in scripture about some men who made their living on the water of a large lake.  They had been called by Jesus to be disciples of His and so they had taken a break from their lively hood but now they were back close to home.  After Jesus feeds the 5000 He makes His disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side . . . the boat was already a long distance from the land, battered by the waves; for the wind was contrary.  And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea.  (Matthew 14:22-25)

Let me make a comment right here about walking on water.  This is not the only occasion given in scripture of Jesus doing this.  One time He clips along and passes right by the poor boys who are struggling to make headway in the wind and waves.  I wonder, water being liquid and all, how one gets traction.  This, mind you, does not bother me.  In my early years of being a believer I once read a book by a scientist trying to explain physical ways that can make miracles happen, i.e. the ax head of Elisha floats to the surface because of gasses released from the bottom because of such and such conditions.  I think I flipped that book into the proper file after about a chapter or two.  My mindset is much more like that of my deceased father-in-law who remarked about Jonah being able to survive 3 days in the belly of a great fish prepared by God;  "If God wanted He could have provided Jonah with air conditioning and a lawn chair."

So I don't have a problem with the creator of heaven and earth bending our understanding of the rules to do something He wants to do.  Somehow Jesus gets traction, comes near the disciple's boat and freaks them out; they cry out in fear.  But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, "Take courage, it is I;  do not be afraid."  Now here is the part which I love.  Peter gets excited.  Remember, it is Peter who sees by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that Jesus is more than just a prophet or a holy man.  He is the one who answers Jesus question, Who do men say I am? by responding; You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

It is Peter who has lived his whole life on the waters of the Sea of Galilee, who knows what the wind and the waves can do to mere men, whose weather worn face has seen fools like me venture out into the waters and not come back.  This Peter gets excited in his spirit and he asks; Lord, if it is You, command me to come to you on the water.  This is so much more than a little story tucked somewhere in the pages of our sacred Word.  Here is a question and a response that belongs to all that breath the wind blown air that traverses every body of water.  Jesus says; Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.  Our answer should be; Lord, if it is You, command me to come.

I have a son and four daughters.  At a certain time in their lives my wife and I would give a locket to our girls and Jackie would charge me with finding an appropriate Bible verse.  I remember praying for our youngest daughter Becky and being drawn to the verse in Matthew chapter 14, verse 29.  For me this was not about a verse looking toward salvation for she was always very strong in her faith since a little child.  Rather I believe it was prophetic, to remember that the invitation to faith in the awesome power of God holds strong and true no matter what the circumstances and that the loving promises of our Creator are sure despite the winds and the waves that we see in the physical.

And how does Jesus respond to Peter's statement; Lord, if it is You, command me to come.  Matthew 14, verse 29 provides it for us;  And He said, "Come!"  Peter now gets out of the boat and he too finds that divine traction, walking on the water toward Jesus.  Yes, Peter then feels the wind and becomes frightened.  He starts to sink.  He cries out as desperate people have done for ages; Lord, save me!  And Jesus does what He will surely do for you, what He has always wanted to do for you;  Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him and said to him (and to us as well), You of little faith, why did you doubt?   

  

Snake Man

My wonderful wife Jackie and I have this friendly competition about who can relate the most unusual stories that come from the people we test.  I have the upper hand here because I do a lot more tests than Jackie does, but she has had her share.

Jackie use to test primarily at the CenterPoint location.  The clientele, apart from the East Grand Rapids kids who would drive up in their parent's BMW's, Lexus, Mercedes, Prius and Volvos, were a mixture of Bosnians (the average 17 year old Bosnian looks at least 22), Northern Africans (where I believe judging by performance that there is a total of about 20 miles of paved road in all of Northern Africa), Arabs (slightly more paved roads) and foreign students from nearby Calvin College (most borrow cars from other foreign students who are not aware that the vehicle needs to be insured).

From this group she got a guy who was a prominent journalist in his African country who was imprisoned and tortured for several years because of a change in political leadership until he was released because of a request from the prime minister of South Africa.  He still had visible scars on his body.  When Jackie related the story I was so jealous I think I almost shared his pain.

But now my precious wife is doing all of her testing at the Hudsonville location where 90% of the people that come to be tested are white and under the age of 18.  Let me list the names of the people she tested last Saturday:  Jacob, Joshua, Taylor, another Jacob, Bethany, Abigail and Jordan.  And can you believe it, not a single one needed a translator.

I on the other hand regularly get guys like Leroy who is 28 and has been in and out of prison since he was 16.  Leroy shows up yesterday in a Cadillac STS with tinted windows and his driver's seat tilted way back.  He is short and slight of build and can barely see over the dash but he looks good.  He has been released from prison for 3 years and had accumulated over $8,000 in driving fines since then.  Although he only works occasionally thru a temp service he was some how able to pay off what he owed and came in to be tested.

Since he is the only one of the day who I think might have seen the Michigan game Monday I ask him if he watched.  "I'm not really into sports.  I only watch the big games."  After I tell him that the game last night was one of those I asked if there were any TV shows he was interested in.  "I love the show Duck Dynasty.  Willie thinks he runs everything but he doesn't control nothing.  Cy always talks about Viet Nam but he's a big lair.  One time he was taking Miss Kay's grill to get fixed and forgot to tie it on the back of his pickup.  When he got there it was gone and so he says that someone must have stole it.  I love Miss Kay.  No one tells her what to do."  Listing to inner city Leroy explain Duck Dynasty is a treat I would pay for.

Yet even from the vanilla at Hudsonville Jackie occasionally scores a good one.  Peter was 25 and had been a hobo since he was 17.  He got started when his buddy suggested they hop on the next train and see where it would take them.  Peter was involved in the Goth sub culture and train hopping was part of that.  They switched from one train to another but just before arriving in Texas they heard that people were getting arrested there so they took the next ride back home.  The Goths dress in all black and Peter learned not to do that in his life as a hobo because the ones that dress in all black "are some really bad dudes."  He gave up the hobo life at age 25 for the simple reason that "my body was just wearing out".

I was jealous of Jackie for about a week until Jesse showed up.  Jesse was in his mid 50's and needed to take a driver's test because he had been hospitalized for 4 years with a failing liver so his license had expired.  He had worked in Florida for most of his life as a surveyor.  Jesse told me right up front that he was bitten three different times by rattlesnakes.  The venom actually ended up destroying his liver.

I asked what it was like getting bit by a rattlesnake.  "The first time I thought I was going to die.  The rattlesnake doesn't want to eat you so they only inject a little bit of venom to protect themselves.  You'd be dead for sure if they gave you a full dose.  I got to the hospital where they took care of me.  The second time I wasn't as scared because I knew I wasn't going to die and the third time I thought, Oh crap, I'm going to miss a day of work."

Jesse told me he has stepped on alligators a few times, encountered bears and one time was neck deep in water when a water moccasin snake swam toward him.  "Did the only thing that came to my mind.  Grabbed him by the neck."  "I guess I get in trouble because I will take the jobs no one else wants."

"Didn't the heat in Florida bother you?" I asked.  "You must be able to get use to it."

"There wasn't a day when I didn't have sweat dripping down the middle of my back and down my butt crack.  It was never pleasant."

"Mosquitos bother you?"

"There are always mosquitoes.  You learn to just ignore them."

"Don't you use deet?"

"No, too much is bad for you."

"Yah, probably bad for your liver too."

"Ha Ha.  The thing that did bother me were the spiders.  I've been bit by all kinds.  Still have a large cyst on my shoulder from a brown recluse bite."  Seems that the only thing to worry Jesse was if his daughter found out that he was taking a road test.

The upside to Jesse's work was that he was one of the few people to have seen the extremely rare ghost orchid in bloom.  The locations for most ghost orchards are keep secret because of the danger posed by poachers.  Jesse told me about some of the surveying work he had like the one needing a special 3D laser machine that he used for Disney World to help them design the layout of a new ride.  All in all a great story.     
 
     Ghost Orchid  

Bipple

Audrey drove up in an old Pontiac Grand Am.  She is blond, 22 years old and was wearing large plastic wraparound sun glasses.  When I ask her how she is doing today she responds; "Just ducky."  Based on her salty language during the rest of the test it's a good guess that hers were not fresh water ducks.

"This is not my car" she assures me.  "I normally drive a big truck."  Then Audrey says;  "I suppose I can't smoke while doing the test, can I?"  "Not a good idea" was my answer.

We go out on the driving portion of the test and Audrey tells me that this has not been a good month.  Her truck got rear ended (her terminology for that was much more colorful and graphic than I can relay here) and she is staying with her mother because the house she and her husband were living in burned down.  His computer shorted out starting their Lazy Boy on fire which then spread to the rest of their dwelling.

Audrey keeps saying; "Oh, excuse my language" during our time together.  For example I tell her about the lady I saw driving who had a cup of coffee in her left hand, a smoke wedged between the fingers of the same hand which was also steering the vehicle using her palm while she was texting using her right hand.  "No S...t!" exclaims Audrey.  "I would never do that!"

When I ask Audrey if she has any children she tells me that she has a fourteen month old boy.  "I was reading the book which describes what children do at each stage of growing and saw that at 14 months Alex should be able to start identifying body parts.  So I point to my nose and eyes and ears and lips, but Alex cannot name them.  Well, you know that I sleep in the nude so the next morning Alex comes into my bedroom.  I point to my boob and Alex doesn't say anything but then he points to the end of my boob and exclaims 'Bipple!'  When I tell him 'that's right' he starts beating his chest like a gorilla."  Audrey laughs.  "My son can identify one body part, bipple."

I thought that was pretty funny although I wondered just what in his environment led Alex to know that bit of information.  When I get home I tell Jackie the story.  She doesn't laugh.  "She told you she sleeps in the nude?"