Tin Man

Mine is a story

Not many people know

It’s a story that can’t be told

Or ever shown on screen

It’s a story that can’t be written

Until someone sets me free

The day I fell in love

I learned what happiness was

She was a little munchkin maid

And I was a feller of trees

I had lost my parents

As many men do

I needed a new reason to live

And she was the only one for me

I planned to make a life for us

I wanted the very best things

She asked me to build a house for us

And I went to work that same day

My betrothed lived with an old hag

Who scorned me bitterly

Since I would take her servant away

She asked a witch to get rid of me

A powerful witch indeed

The witch watched me through woods

She knew my trade too well

She devised a hellish demise for me

And bewitched my woodsman’s axe

The axe felt different in my hands

At first I didn’t know why

Then the blade turned on me

And cut my left leg clean

The blood, oh blood flowed freely

My life was all but gone

But the thought of love pulled me back

And I found someone who could help

He was a tinsmith and he had an idea

He fixed a new leg for me

I got back to work but didn’t know

The witched continued to watch me

My leg worked fine and my grip was sure

I continued with my work

But in a moment the blade turned once more

And cut my right leg clean

The scream, oh my scream echoed out

I couldn’t believe my eyes

For I knew this was no accident

And someone wanted me to die

I found my tinsmith friend again

He fixed a new leg for me

I went back to work but before I finished

The axe cut my left arm clean

The pain, oh the pain deep and searing

And more blood than before

My heart was nearly drained dry

But the tinsmith saved me once more

The tin arm was stronger

The grip was firmer

I worked faster than before

But the axe wasn’t finished with me

And it cut my right arm clean

The misery, the woe of losing every limb

I thought there could be nothing worse

But the munchkin girl still loved me

Despite the witch’s curse

The witch knew this and did not relent

Oh no she would never quit

But I wouldn’t stop till my work was done

So she made the axe take my head

My head, my head I thought I was dead

But my heart kept on ticking

I could feel my guardian near me then

And the tinsmith saved me once again

Legs, arms, and a head made of tin

What could the witch do to me then?

Even she puzzled at my transformation

But then she knew what it would take

To kill my determination

The enchanted blade turned toward my chest

And drove itself right through me

It broke my body in two parts

And dashed my heart to bits

I watched the tinsmith through my tin eyes

As he made a new torso for me

My friend and hero saved me again

But he neglected to replace the most important part

My heart, oh my heart

The most important part

Instead there was emptiness

And my love was long forgotten

The witched rejoiced

And claimed her prize from the hag

My maiden waited patiently

And never heard from me again

No love, no joy

Just work work work

No house, no ring

Just chop chop chop

I stood in the woods

Shining in the sun

Admiring my brightness

Thinking “No one can hurt me!”

As long as I remembered to oil my joints

I could work all day and all night

But one day I forgot and was caught in a storm

Now I’m frozen in place like a sundial

By my calculations I’ve been here for a year

Staring at the bark of this tree

Thinking of what could have been

My axe is raised high toward a sky

That forgot I ever existed

I’m frozen in the grove

Stuck as if in sap

Standing like a statue

Invisible to the passerby

With only trees for company

But even they are freer than me

For they’re allowed to fall and die

No such privilege is afforded to one such as I

Last night I dreamed of a girl in gingham blue

Flying to my land in a small farm house

She landed right on top of that cursed witch

And followed a path of yellow bricks

She heard my cry in the woods

And ran for my oil can

She freed me from my statue stance

And took me to a magic man

Who granted me a heart

The dream was so real it awoke my joy

It stirred my soul and I would have cried

If I could just remember where tears came from

And had a heart to pump them through my eyes

How I miss my heart

And my true happiness

Now I wait for the girl

In the blue gingham dress

Fragility/Stability/Agility

In five short months all of the local Adobe employees will move into a brand new office building. The new location is 20 minutes away from our current business park. Everyone’s commutes will change as a result. Some will be adding 20 minutes each way while others will be more fortunate. Right now my commute is only 5 minutes. I am planning to move closer to our new office in order to keep my commute in check. This will mean moving out of P-town. Everything about this is scary. I have lived in P-town without interruption for six years. I’ve even been in the same apartment complex for four years. Each year I let my roots sink deeper into P-town has been a year full of shiny new faces, cemented friendships, and constant transition. Much of the transition comes in the form of friends getting married and/or moving away. I do my best to follow along with their exciting new lives far away from P-town. It’s easy to be tempted to wander even farther away from my California home town as I wonder what life would be like elsewhere. But then one thought always stops me is, “My job is in Utah!”

That’s right, folks. My feet are pretty firmly planted. I think it’s in my DNA. My parents had the exact same jobs until I graduated from high school in 2001. At that point my mom got a new job working outside of the home and she has remained at that same law firm for 11 years. My dad stayed with his job until he retired in 2010 and totaled 34 years of employment with the same police department. (My parents definitely know a thing or two about commitment – they just celebrated their 42-year wedding anniversary yesterday!) When I was growing up I always assumed I’d dedicate my career to one employer because that was the noble thing to do. Of course that was before I knew anything about the terrors of economic recession and widespread unemployment. Now my loyalty comes from a place of fear of the unknown as opposed to confidence in a steady and thriving future.

Staring down a tunnel of future possibilities can feel like looking into a kaleidoscope. With one twitch of my finger the entire landscape changes. Since the future refuses to hold steady for me (or reveal itself, for that matter) I must instead decide what I want most. Up until this point I have strongly prioritized stability as a quality I want to have in my life. Last week I started thinking of two alternative qualities: fragility and agility. Maybe instead of building my future out of concrete I should build it out of glass or put it on wheels. At least it would be something different.

Yesterday I went on a tour of our office construction site. (Keep in mind that this new office building could very well incent me to stay in Utah for another several years.) After my coworkers and I donned safety vests, eyewear and helmets we set out to imagine what this structure would look like upon completion. The experience was foreign and enlightening (and even a little bit dangerous – double bonus!) There were fragile, stable and agile components all over the place.

FRAGILE (“fra-jee-lay!”)

We came upon a pallet of glass windows sitting on the ground waiting to be installed. Of course the shiny objects immediately drew my eye. “Okay,” I thought. “What if I want to model my life around being fragile? What would that look like?” After some careful consideration I concluded that a fragile life is all about pretty and shiny things. Fragile people do the minimum work to reinforce their internal structural support. They hollow themselves out and wring themselves dry trying to figure out how to keep appearances up. The motivation is to appear to have everything. In the end they barely hold onto anything. Much like a delicate painted egg they dry themselves out – almost to dust – as they wait for a wealthy patron to curate them and lock them in a fine glass display box in a gallery of forgotten treasures. Their lives are on display so everyone can see how much effort and time was put into their artful appearance. They don’t realize that their velvet perch is their final resting place. “Oh no, little egg, you can’t go outside. You’ll break. Oh no, little egg, you can’t see the sun. You’ll fade. Don’t be silly, little egg, you can’t ever change. You’ll lose your value.” Fragile people are eventually rescued and frozen in time or they fall so hard they can’t be put back together again. I think I’ll pass.

STABLE (not to be confused with Stabler)

Ah, now we’re in my element. Everywhere I looked there were thousands of cubic feet of cement ready to offer their undying support for whatever would be placed on top of them. Be it structural foam, carpet, wood, tile or sheet rock, that cement was ready to roll! Well, I guess it can’t roll. I guess it can’t go anywhere. But still – the firmness and steadfastness of it all had me convinced, “This is the way to be!” Offering yourself up as the foundation for everyone else to rest on is noble indeed. Holding perfectly still so no one else could fall would never get old, right? Promising everyone you’ll never change or falter is really no pressure at all. Or is it? Of course it is. Crap. Maybe in the end the “stable” approach only guilts other people into staying the same. Maybe the diehard concrete slabs become so heavy they sink into the ground to be forgotten forever. The general contractor told us the crane they used last year required a 60-feet deep foundation. Now that the crane is gone it isn’t practical to dig the foundation out. It will stay buried and hidden underground waiting for its next chance to be of use to someone. Talk about a depressing outlook.

AGILE (you know this one's going to win)

Near the end of the tour we wound our final path out of the building. The contractor pointed to a piece of equipment outside and said, “That right there is worth its weight in gold.” I don’t think he told us its official name but he aptly described it as a “giant suction cup thing.” It was made to lift panels of glass and glide them toward the building as workers guide them into the windowsills. A single piece of glass can weigh hundreds of pounds. The device (mounted on a small crane and adjustable with pulleys or something of the sort) has the strong grip and fragile touch necessary to lift the glass high in the air and then deftly maneuver it to its final destination. On top of it glass raising ability it can also zoom around to different parts of the construction site. (No 60-foot foundation necessary.) Now that, my friends, sounds like a quality I should strive for. It seems like in the midst of a construction site where odds and ends stuck out all over the place I was able to stumble on a machine to model my life around. Honestly I’d rather be worth my weight in gold than be covered in it. It seems more fun to be on wheels than to be stuck in the ground 60 feet down. My quest now is to transform myself from a rock into a set of wheels - wheels with a great big arm, powerful cables and “giant suction cup things.” It’s slightly strange but very true.

I have no idea if I’ll still be in Utah in the distant future but I have a pretty good idea of what this weekend looks like. Tomorrow my parents will arrive in town and we’re going to have a great time seeing plays, concerts, movies and friends. I am thankful for the examples my parents set for me. Their loyalty provided my sisters and me with a stable home life. I will always value that. I make careful decisions and I don’t plan on changing that any time soon. My roots are still deep with my friends and my employer and I would never sever them carelessly. I just need to figure out how to fit them into a giant pot and transport them to a new city where I can start fresh. Maybe everything about this is scary but I know I can’t turn my back on a perfectly good reason to move somewhere new. I won’t build a fragile life there. I won’t limit myself by being immovable. Instead I will learn to go with the flow, find a niche, and maybe wreak a little havoc. Movers and shakers always do.

Coat of Arms

Earlier this month I had to prepare a personal coat of arms for an offsite – a common term referring to any all day team meeting that occurs outside the office. This particular meeting was going to be a team building exercise. Every participant was given a template for their coat of arms which included nine questions we needed to answer during a 15-minute presentation. We could create the coat of arms using any format we wanted and I decided to go with a good old-fashioned posterboard. I wanted to visually represent the answers to the eight questions and I had a lot of fun cutting out posterboard shapes and pasting them on my shield. The completed project has now found its final resting place behind my dresser. I thought I should revisit the project and the things I learned about myself before I let February slip away.

Question 1: What are some fun facts about you?

I think one of the most unique things about me is that I am one of four daughters and there are no sons in my family. If memory serves, I believe the probability of having four boys or four girls in a row is .5 x .5 x .5 x .5 = .0625. If that isn’t a fun fact, I don’t know what is.

I was born in October and it is a cold hard fact that Halloween is my favorite holiday. Candy and costumes were two of my childhood favorite things. My best friend and I would sketch designs for our costumes months in advance. We’d Trick-or-Treat together every year and I usually had a birthday party on the night of Halloween or just a few days prior. Many of my best/sugar-crazed memories are rooted in late October.

The final fun fact I’ll mention is I’ve seen Les Misérables eight times. The first time I saw it I was really young (6? 7? 8?) but I had already been listening to the soundtrack for a year or so. My dad and I actually got into the show on accident (we were supposed to drop off my mom at the theater in San Francisco and after we walked away she ran after us and told us she scored scalped tickets) and it was the best thing ever. It was my first experience seeing something played out in front of me that I had only ever imagined in my head. I saw the show in San Francisco five more times over the next 10 years, then once at the Tuacahn Amphitheater, and most recently in London. The show has different meaning for me every time I see it.

Question 2: What were some unique challenges you faced during childhood?

Did I already mention I have three sisters? Just kidding! My sisters were great. The only had part was when they moved out.

The other routine challenges I faced involved needles, loud noises (I used to HATE fireworks on the Fourth of July and New Year’s Eve) and math. Oh, math math math. I didn’t actually pass algebra until I was a junior in high school and when I took my math competency exam for junior college I placed in beginning algebra. I ended up taking nine semester credits’ worth of remedial math. I guess something finally clicked because I ended up with the highest grade in my College Algebra & Trigonometry class. Statistics was also kind of fun. I thought I’d be able to reclaim my former math powers in order to conquer the GMAT last December but... more on that later.

I played soccer for nine years (ages 8-17) but I never felt I was particularly good at it. Sure, there was the growth spurt when I was 12 that suddenly made me faster than many of my competitors, but that only lasted until I discovered the vending machines in my high school when I was 14. I always found extreme competitiveness off-putting and tried to “have fun” while I played. Maybe that was my problem. Somewhere in those early adolescent years I took a swing at refereeing soccer and boy was that a mistake. Some of the calls I made back then still haunt me to this day. Hopefully the players and parents have long forgotten me.

Question 3: What was your biggest disappointment?

I played on my first volleyball team at the YMCA when I was 10 and I loved it. (I remember going to practices at my elementary school but I can’t remember if we ever formed a school team. I kind of doubt it.) When I was 11 I tried out for my middle school’s volleyball team. I felt like I had prepared sufficiently – I had gone to the volleyball camp the coach (my PE teacher) told me to attend – and I was a little disheartened to see how many girls showed up for the tryout. There was only going to be one team and I had very little technical training. I noticed one main difference between myself and the others: I couldn't serve overhand. Near the end of the two-day tryouts my teacher mostly hid her face behind her clipboard as she wrote notes. When the team list was posted my name was nowhere on it. It was the first “crushing blow” of my life. I tried out again when I was 12 and I even made an overhand serve right in front of my teacher. She had a look on her face that seemed to say, “Too little too late,” (or maybe she could tell it was just pure luck) and the next day history repeated itself. I remember attending one of the games (I had made friends with girls on a rival team) and wishing I were out there. Memories like that are the worst. I decided to stick with soccer and in high school my schedule was full of practices, games and theater productions. Volleyball has remained a hobby and most importantly I still love to play it. So there, Coach Leftwich!

My most recent big disappointment came in the form of my GMAT score (most specifically my quantitative score). It was like all of the math insecurities from 1^st-11^th grade came back to bite me. I’m still not positive if I’ll ever vanquish my math woes but it would certainly be nice if someone would invent a pill that made people better at math.

Question 4: What was your first or worst job?

My worst job was definitely as a soccer ref (as mentioned before) and unfortunately it was also my first job. However, my first full-time job was as a YMCA Summer Camp counselor. All three of my sisters had been counselors and that definitely opened the door when I went in for my interview. I ended up working at three different camps over the next five summers. Luckily they were all “day camps” meaning they only operated from 7 am-6 pm. Most of them were run out of portable classrooms on elementary school campuses. I got to work at my former elementary school’s day camp until the Outdoor Adventure camp at the local regional park requested more staff members. I stayed there two summers and then transferred to the Performing Arts camp at another elementary school. My favorite part of that last job (besides the kids) was editing and writing scripts, designing scenery, creating costumes, directing and doing make-up. Doing all the things I love so much was pretty much too good to be true. I am confident the kids had as much fun as I did. I miss them a lot.

Question 5: What do you want to learn?

Besides really learning how to overhand serve (which is a little difficult due to a fussy rotator cuff in my right shoulder), I really want to learn how to decorate cakes like my hero Buddy Valastro. He is seriously my idol! I also really want to learn how to use the DSLR I just bought. Luckily one of my good friends is on board (she just bought a DSLR as well) and we are eagerly digesting our camera manuals and carving out time for photo walks.

On the serious side, I think the top things I want to learn are:

-How to turn weaknesses into strengths

-How to get out of my comfort zone and stay that way

-How to gain perspective without jumping continents.

Let me explain…

Weaknesses: I feel like I once turned math (a weakness) into a strength. Of course, that feeling was obliterated after I took the GMAT, but regardless, I want to be able to identify weaknesses and come up with plans for transforming them. I don’t want them to just disappear; I want them to become part of what I do best. The scary part about this is asking for others’ help in identifying my weaknesses. If that isn’t scary, I don’t know what is! I think there are few things more valorous than being able to take constructive criticism with a grain of salt and using it to move forward in life as a better person/artist/employee, etc.

Comfort zone: I am always worried about what other people think. It would be nice to come out of my shell and stay that way. I try to think of other people the same way I think of snakes and gross bugs, “They’re probably more scared of you than you are of them.” If I can just remember that everyone needs a friend, a smile, a kind word, etc. then it will be easier to be around strangers.

Perspective: Why is it so much easier to quietly reflect on life and one’s own standing in the world when we are far, far away from home? I noticed this when I was visiting Brazil in 2009 and Europe in 2010. It seems like the 9-hour flights overseas are the key to stepping outside one’s self. I have to find a cheaper way to be able to get away from “real” life and take stock of what’s going on in my life. Maybe this blog will be the trick.

Question 6: What was your biggest achievement?

When I first read this question in the template I struggled with it. No one wants to stand in front of 12 of their peers and tout their own horn. Especially me, the most junior employee of the entire group, with no 3 page resume riddled with key accomplishments at past companies, case study competition awards or 700+ point GMAT score. (All I can say is my colleagues are all amazing people and I wither every time I read through one of their resumes.) I struggled indeed but when it came down to it, I knew what to say.

I wanted one thing for as long as I could remember: to serve a mission for the church. There were a number of things that could have stood in my way but when I was 21 I was able to submit my papers. The only real obstacle was facing the vaccination series and blood test that were required before I mailed the papers to Salt Lake. In one day I got a TB test (probably my 6^th by that point), a Hepatitis C shot and my very first blood test that I could remember. It was terrifying, but I did it. When the call to Brazil Rio de Janeiro-North came, I winced at the list of immunizations. The night I went in for the rest of my shots I got four of them (including tetanus) all in one arm. It was fantastic. Well, I meant that sarcastically but it actually was fantastic because I didn’t cry. Go me! The last shot I had was in the MTC in Sao Paulo. I think it was for Hepatitis C. By then nearly all of my “needle” nerves came back but one of the other sister missionaries held my hand. (Thank you Sarah!)

Besides all of these silly shots, my mission really was the one thing I can look back on and say, “I did it!!” It was 18 months of out and out mental, emotional and physical labor. I loved it but every time I have a dream that I’m being called on another mission (I just had this dream again on Wednesday), I nearly have a heart attack. I think I was able to get through it the first time because I didn’t know what to expect. In my recurrent dreams I find myself thinking, “How am I going to get through this AGAIN?” I am very grateful other missionaries are out there serving and I know they’re doing better than I could in my current selfish state.

Question 7: What do you want your legacy to be?

This was probably the hardest question of all. Finally the answer popped into my head: I want to leave a place better than I found it. That goes for my school, college, home, work, everything. I want to “be the best me” I can be. It sounds clichéd but it really is the case. If I fail, I hope it will be in the smallest endeavors. Let me disappear in the annals and be forgotten as a crummy ref. If I fail as a daughter, sister, wife or mother, I’ll never forgive myself.

Question 8: What brings you joy/happiness?

I love being able to create things. They can be small or big, useful or useless. I love to draw, write, craft, photograph and paint. I just wish I did all of them more often.

Teamwork and camaraderie also bring me a lot of joy. I think team dynamics (and group dynamics in general) are very interesting.

Of course, my family brings me great happiness. They are fantastic and they’re pretty much the only reason I’m a decent person.

Question 9: What are your hobbies?

Ah, the classic first date question! Are you ready?

-Traveling –Playing soccer and volleyball –Running –Writing –Movies & TV –Theater –Playing violin

I started playing violin three years ago because I really wanted to learn a musical instrument. I played clarinet when I was in 4^th and 5^th grade but I never really practiced and therefore wasn’t very good. (I think at one point I was 11^th chair out of 12 clarinet players.) These days it’s fun to practice violin at my own pace. It’s a demanding little piece of work but I adore it all the same.

AND THAT’S ABOUT IT!

For now my Coat of Arms remains securely nestled between my dresser and my wall. I think it will be fun to pull it out next time I rearrange my furniture or move apartments. Maybe it will be like looking in a time capsule or maybe it will be like looking in a mirror. Only time will tell.

All About Dad

Today is a really special day for my family – it was my dad’s very last day of work! In honor of his amazing accomplishment I wanted to write all about my dad tonight. However, he has so many great dimensions I knew I would have a hard time touching on all of them. I have enlisted the help of some friends and family to help you understand just how great he is. First, I need to cover a little history.

This week I had the opportunity to study up on my dad’s work history. I learned a lot of stuff I didn’t know. His first job was picking prunes as a little boy. He continued working in the fields and orchards through junior high. As a young adult he had his share of restaurant, retail and gardening jobs. He even had a run as a glass blower! Apparently he had a bad accident during that stint and he still has a scar on his arm. He also served in the Marines Reserve Corps and has the tattoo to prove it. (Although he’ll quickly say the tattoo was a huge mistake, I must admit I was always fascinated by it.) I’m sure I’m getting the timeline muddled but he also worked in a lab at Stanford, earned his Administration of Justice AA and became a Sherriff’s deputy. In 1976 he joined the Santa Rosa Police Department as a Police Field Technician but after three years the constantly ringing phones at the front desk of the police office drove him to a pilot program for a new position: Field Evidence Support Technician.

He was one of two people chosen for the program and after going through police academy (again!) they proved the position was viable and more technicians were viable. In his words, “We sacrificed because we wanted the program to be successful. We worked under poor conditions. We didn’t wear a uniform. We wore slacks, a white or blue shirt and a tie and were not issued portable radios. We drove a blue or white Ford Fairmont with a small 10” diameter City seal on the front doors and a small yellow amber light in the rear window. When we finally were told to start taking collision reports and we showed up at the scene, people thought we were insurance agents. By that time we were wearing a navy blue sport coat as part of our non-uniform. Administration did not want us to look anything like a Police Officer. I had to buy my own rain jacket.”

All of their hard work paid off and over the next several years the position evolved. If you had seen my dad at work today you would have most likely mistaken him for a cop. The technicians are now issued uniforms, radios, and patrol units with light bars. I had no idea my dad had helped build the position from the ground up. He has stuck with it for 34 years (count ’em – 34 years!!!) and today he retired as the oldest and longest-serving SRPD employee. He’s amazing!

Honestly, however, that’s just the half of it. In the 27 years that I’ve been alive, my dad has been a wonderful person. I just wish I could have been around when he was a little kid. As the third of four boys, he had two older brothers picking on him. His little brother, Jim, told me a funny experience about how it was to be the youngest of the bunch:

First of all, I am totally jealous. Now I will be the only brother still working!

I will never forget the time when I was about nine years old and Louie and I were in a real fight. Louie got my arm behind my back and was twisting it up hard. He said, I'm going to break your arm!" It really hurt. I yelled back to him, "Go ahead, break it, but just wait until Pop gets home." It really scared him and he released it immediately. I felt really smart. I now knew how to control him from hurting me!

On the good side, he was always nice to our mother. I could never understand how he could always be kind and thoughtful towards her.

-Jim

Although my dad is a very mild-mannered and wise man, I’m sure he was a hellion growing up! I’m glad Jim survived because now I get to enjoy all three of my uncles. I have a theory as to why he was always so nice to Grandma: perhaps part of him knew he’d end up with a family of all girls! Yes, it is true – until 9 years ago my dad was absolutely surrounded by my mom, my three sisters and me. (Luckily in 2001 I got a fantastic brother-in-law.) He could almost always find refuge in the garage with his power tools, but even better he was a great friend to my sister’s friends and they other young men in the ward. I like to say that I had at least 10 older brothers growing up. The best part about them was they seldom picked on me and almost always honed in on my mom. They liked to find her when she was out on a walk and dump a bucket of water on her or saran-wrap her to a telephone pole. They made life interesting and my family loved them. They gave my dad many nicknames and even nicknamed our old station wagon (“The Beast”) and his hair (“The Helmet”) In their words:

The Law... So many good times and memories. None of us ever said thank you much. I guess we figure it was just implied but you did a lot for helping all of us grow into good men. You kept your house open to us, let us beat up on your wife, were easy to confide in, and most importantly a good example of a righteous man to a bunch of rowdy and impressionable young men. Memories of growing up fade with time but I will never forget the good times all of us had backpacking the sierras. As a young men leader now I realize how much work it is do such things. So thanks dude. Have a great retirement. Enjoy getting old and senile. And when the amnesia starts kicking in, I'm gonna come by and remind you how I lent you that AR-15 and the Ruger mark III and would like them back now.

- Ben

Lou has always been and will always be one of the boys. On camping & backpacking trips, he was never just one of the Dads chaperoning some foolish (and dangerous at times!) teenagers, he was the adult that respected us enough to let us make some trouble (which he knew we would get into either way). The first backpacking trip I went on with him, Ben, Sam and Travis N. is a perfect example. There we were hiking through Desolation Wilderness… I was a knife-obsessed teenager holding my machete in my teeth and constantly playing with my throwing knife collection. 'The Law' basically just made sure we weren’t throwing them at each other and looked the other way. Sure he was there when we had to go search for Travis on one of his walkabouts, and he was there any time that we might be getting a little bit out of line but often he was just with us having fun and was never afraid to let us have fun. I think there’s always a point growing up where leaders/elders can get on your nerves in some way or another but I can’t think of a single time that any of us ever felt that way about Lou. The camaraderie he developed with us made him just another “Bro” in our circle. Loucifer is THE man!

-Ryan

I remember taking trips with Lou to Mammoth Mt and Sea Otter for biking...I put up with his snoring and he listened to me talking in my sleep...so he probably knows all my secrets and dreams, but that's ok he's a trustworthy man! On these trips, I could always count on him to bring a good steak that I could nibble on (he ate one every night camping). Maybe it was steaks that slowed him down on the bike...maybe it was the bike itself...who knows why he never broke any speed records on the bike, it was just fun being around him! Lou is the only guy with no little kids that can drive a minivan and look good doing it - you da man Lou! No matter the setting or occasion I just love being around Lou - I will eat a steak, shoot a gun, ride a bike or talk in my sleep with you anytime! Congratulations on finishing a long and successful career! Love you lots!

-Adam

Lou is a great example for me and the guys. He's an almost silent leader. He has a way of lending me the same confidence that he carries. It's hard to explain but those that know him know what I mean. His home has raised a lot of youth, most of whom were not his own as far as blood is concerned. But that never seemed to matter. I've fallen asleep on Lou and Ginger's couch more than a handful of times only to wake up in a silent pitch dark house under a warm blanket......and feel right at home. He confirmed my wife a member of the church. Was a witness at my wedding and has been a man that I would be proud to emulate.

-Pablo

I think it is safe to say that my dad was a father to not just three daughters, but many sons. Whenever his boys were gone on a mission or moved out of state, my family turned to the elders serving in the ward to fill the void. My dad spent countless hours mountain biking with the elders on their P-Day (Preparation Day) and tuning up bikes in his garage. My mom was able to hem their pants and together they made our house Elder Central. It was a great place to grow up and their love of the missionaries definitely fueled my desire to serve. But enough about me! This is about my dad! One former Elder wrote:

Lou is an awesome man. I would have to say that he was my father when I needed one. He has always been the strong steady quiet example that I very much admire. I think that it is really great that he represented the Santa Rosa Police Force.

I remember visiting Santa Rosa a few years after my mission and I was able to visit with him for a while. We were able to go out into the garage and have some guy time. He was working on the cabinets that went into the master bathroom. I remember him always being quite the craftsman. I am really excited that he will have the opportunity to now work on things he enjoys.

Both he and your mom were there for me during some pretty dark hours while I was serving in the Piner Creek Ward and I will forever be grateful for that. Lou is the Man!

-Eric

My dad has also been a very dedicated and service-oriented neighbor and true friend. Two of our favorite neighbors live a couple of streets away, and said this about Dad:

Lou (we all call him the "Rock") will NEVER divulge a secret. My wife had planned a surprise party, and he asked me to go mountain biking. We always go to Lepe's after. He told me that we needed to go home, that we would be barbequing with the wives. I told him that we still needed to eat at least one or two tacos. He said, “No, we need to go home they are waiting.” Not a breath of anything. We drove to his house, and I was going to drop off Lou and his bike, he said, “No, let’s do it later.” We walked into my house and the place was packed. (Lou always paid to get into Annadel by the way.)

If you EVER need help, he will always be there to help. He is the best neighbor anyone could ask for. I never hear Lou talk bad about anyone. He just walks away. He loves to be with his family, that is his biggest joy (and shooting of course). Any time you spend with Lou will only increase your love of others. Retirement couldn't come to a more deserving and nicer guy!

-Jack

One thing I have always admired Lou for, is his journal keeping. He can go back to when he was called to a specific calling and tell you his feelings about it. He can go back to each of his daughters' births and re live the moment. He has dutifully and lovingly recorded events in his life to share with others or privately contemplate. I have always loved Lou. Congratulations on this great milestone - time to write this experience in your journal!

-Janet

I have to agree with Janet – Dad’s journal habit is a great example! It is so fun when he pulls out journal entries and reads them to us on special days. For years I felt bad for not keeping a journal and I have to say that he is a big reason I write this blog. He has always been so willing to share his thoughts and memories with my family and that is why I want to record and share my own.

My dad and his brothers exemplify wonderful qualities of protectiveness, empathy and compassion that guardians and counselors possess. They are always willing to help anyone in the family. It is little surprise that my uncle Dave also worked in law enforcement:

Wow, he's finally retiring! I never even thought about how long he has been working at the same job and I was shocked to read that it's been 35 years. That job must have meant an awful lot to him to last that long and I'm proud of his accomplishment. I'm confident that the SRPD will miss his expertise, especially his CSI work. Knowing my brother, he has put everything into his work and done as complete a job as anybody could do.

His family, his church, his woodwork, and now his target shooting...everybody knows that he puts his heart and soul into everything he does. Why would it be different with his chosen profession? He will miss his work, whether he realizes it or not, but his family, church and friends will share even more of his time now.

Enough of that, how long is his 'to do' list?? How long will it take to build my kitchen island, brother??

-Dave

Heaven knows that my dad will continue to attack his miles-long To Do list. I think it’s a trait that runs in our family. I want to thank my dad for his tireless work ethic, enduring loyalty and the wonderful example he has been to all of us lucky to know him. He has a thousand hobbies (as you may guess shooting is his #1 hobby right now) and he will definitely stay busy the next 30+ years. I hope today is a wonderful day for my dad and full of congratulations. I love him!

Last but not least are some thoughts from his oldest brother:

As the oldest of four boys, I was supposed to be the one to sample the world and pass on my wisdom and discoveries to my younger siblings. Not sure where that idea came from, but as it turned out, that all happened in reverse. I certainly did go forth sampling the world's menu, but missed the precious stuff. Lou dedicated himself to whatever he did from the beginning, whether it was Cub Scouts or homework as a kid, pushing physical limits as a Marine, fine-tuning woodworking skills, studying to be the best Field Tech with S.R.P.D. he could be, or punching out the bulls-eye on the rifle range. What he did in-between is what makes him stand out from so many men, myself included. He found love as a young man and knew that was it for him. He began to lay the foundation for supporting that love and the family that followed. It became his life’s work. Patiently pushing himself to build his career and home, sacrificing leisure time in doing that, Lou showed me what I had missed all my life...commitment. His retirement is not going to put a dent in that. I've got a feeling that his home will continue to have improvements and his church will also benefit from his extra time. If I could do it all over again, I'd want Lou to be my Big Brother, and do it his way. Thanks for teaching me lessons the world couldn't Lou.

-JR