Mother's Day 2011

May 8, 2011

Today is the first Mother’s Day since my Mom passed away in March. I’ve been asking for other people’s memories and stories about her, so I thought I’d better share a few things too. Happy Mother’s Day Mom!!!

5 THINGS MY MOM TAUGHT ME
Patriotism
people
time
experience
Faith


Below are five (of the many) things my Mom taught me. I could probably write a chapter on each topic instead of just a paragraph, but this will suffice for now.

Patriotism
Mom loved America! July the 4th, Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day, Labor Day, Veterans museums, and National Monuments and Cemeteries. She had a deep abiding sense that this country was great, and that we needed to honor it. Mom never served in political or military service, she never did anything outstanding on a National level, she simply did what she could do in her local sphere of influence. And of course, she was quite diligent in trying to teach us about honoring our country, too. As a family, we celebrated National holidays, we hung our flag with pride, she always wanted us to stand for the National anthem, even when it was just playing on television. Mom was always interested in things about the country and National pride. She gave speeches on the ways to fold the flag and what each fold stood for, she studied and gave a speech on the WWI Veterans memorial in Concord, she spoke and wrote about Presidential tid-bits, National trivia and she was eager to learn more and pass on what she had learned. When Mom and Dad came to my graduation in Virginia, we spent a day in Washington DC going through the Smithsonian’s and Arlington National Cemetery. It was a great day and place to experience so much about our country. Mom never served her country on the battle field, but she served her country in the way she could, on a day-to-day basis within her own sphere of influence.

Dealing with people
I had the opportunity to work part-time with my Mom for three years while I was a student at DVC. We often commuted together, and as always, she was in a talkative mood. We worked in different departments, but knew many of the same people. Mom was pretty good with her intuition, and she would often discuss the office politics and people and what was really going on behind the scenes. I was just a newbie in “Corporate America,” but I soon discovered there was a lot going on at work besides work! Mom would often make an assessment about someone and given enough time, it would eventually prove to be true. I paid attention to Mom’s assessments over the years. She wasn’t always right, but she was right more often than not. Mom wasn’t just assessing people, she was teaching me that if you understand people, then you will know how to deal with people. Mom was a “people person”, she loved gathering groups together, but she also loved meeting with people one-on-one. Since Mom’s death, many people have sent in stories about her spending time with them and just talking over lunch. Many people have told me that she was one of their best friends. She could only be a great friend to so many people because she knew people and cared deeply about people.

Time with people is important
Mom was always gathering groups of people together for every kind of event, party and celebration. I actually grew tired of a few of her events, but it’s hard to say no to Mom. Birthday parties, holiday gatherings, church functions, school groups, nothing was off-limits; we had everything but annual Ground hog celebrations. There was always a good time to be had, and time with people always turned out well. I enjoy a good party, but I can also enjoy solitude, time alone away from the crowds. Mom could only be alone for so long before her “party addiction” took over and she was planning another event at JuhalaLand. Time with people was not just about the party, it was the conversations, the experiences, getting to know someone else, inviting someone new and making them feel welcome. That’s what she taught me, time with people always turned out well. She also taught me that if someone invites you to an event, you should probably go (see the next lesson for more about that).

Experience life, even when you don‘t feel like it
I can’t tell you how many times during my high school years that I was invited to go somewhere and said, “I don’t feel like going” or “I don’t want to go.” She would always talk me into going, using her own persuasive techniques, she never said you absolutely must go, but somehow she always got me to go. Once I got there, I always had a good time, sometimes, even a great time. It wasn’t until after high school that I finally came to the realization that, “I don’t want to go, she gets me to go, I have a good time, so why do I not want to go?” From then on, she didn’t have to talk me into going anymore. When I was younger, my hesitation was that I simply didn’t want to go to some event. Today, the issue is that I don’t want to go because I’m so busy or I’m so tired. But Mom’s encouraging thoughts are still true no matter what the reason for not wanting to go. If I just get up and go, I almost always have a good or great time. So the next time there is something to experience, just get up and go, even if you don’t feel like it.

Faith
Of all the things Mom wanted to teach me, Faith was the most important. Mom was never a pushy Evangelist, but she was pushy about going to church, there were no options there. We went, and we were involved. If there was a need, somehow we were involved, be it a church work day, helping a member, serving, volunteering, doing an outreach, or having a party at our house, we were involved. But that was all the “works” part of her belief. There was also the Faith part. She had the works part down pat, no dust settled on her, but fewer people saw her quiet faith. I’m sure many people could comment on her faith that they saw in action, or the conversations they have had with her over the years. I saw her faith lived out in the way she and Dad raised the family, I saw it when she would read a scripture card every morning from her childhood “Bread of Life” scripture cards. I saw it when I would wake up early and find her praying on the couch. I heard it in our conversations about a sermon, a family member, a friend or the news. She really did believe in God and His teachings.
She lived her faith each day-
She taught her faith to her children-
She shared her faith with others-
She supported her faith financially-
She worked her faith by volunteering-
And now she has been rewarded in her faith through death.

Mom has taught me a lot, maybe she has taught you a few things too. If so, I’d love it if you could share them.

Jeff

Summer 1960 "The Arm"

A Great Story from Sally Sanders Wakefield

Summer 1960
Bible Standard College ,as it was called then, [Eugene Bible College and now Hope University] encouraged Summer Outreaches from students to their churches.

JoAnn Vaughn, Juhala, Melba Harvey, Rilea, Loretta Graham, Williams and
Sally Sanders, Wakefield answered the call to go to the "Midwest" from Eugene, Oregon to hold Daily Vacation Bible Schools in the day time and Youth Crusade meetings in the evenings.

Leo Wakfield let us use his 1952 Chevy for transportation.

We spent the summer touring Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota.

This story involves our time in Lusk, Wyoming.
It was a summer evening.
Summer evenings in the Midwest are wonderfully warm and inviting.
We were all very young, way to full of energy and had time on our hands.
The Pastor of the church we were working in had a teen aged daughter
who enjoyed spending time with the 4 of us.

We all climbed into the car.
We began to discuss a Midwestern happening of a few years prior.
There had been a traveling murderer who had passed through the Midwest.
If memory serves he put his victims in the trunk of his vehicle
and that is how he was ultimately found out.

We got to talking about "What If" "I wonder what would happen if"

We decided it would be Such Fun to put someone in the trunk of the car.
Let that someone dangle their arm, hand limp out the partly open trunk.

Who best to put in the trunk?
The Pastor’s daughter begged to let it be her.
So we pulled over into a darkened spot.
Put her in the trunk and then drove up and down Main Street slowly.
It was not long until the "Bubble lights" were following us. We pulled over,
2 officers slowly approached our vehicle, if memory serves a gun in one hand and a flash light in the other.
The Pastors daughter let go of the trunk lid, She had been holding the lid down with her "Non Dangling Hand"
The officers, of course recognized her at once.

Since this was a much more innocent time nothing horrible happened.
However, the evening was not over.
We were escorted to the Church office.

We were not aware that Pastor Bozart was also the Chief of Police of Lusk Wyoming.
He of course had been given a call by his officers.
I seem to remember him as a rather large man with a graying crew cut.
We had to wait a bit, shaking in our boots, for him to come to the office.
Needless to say we were no longer giggling and having a great time.

He came in and to our surprise after he had talked to the officers and they were told that they could leave.
He spoke to us briefly, calmly and then told us we probably should get some sleep tomorrow would be another busy day.
Our relief at his response was huge.

To our knowledge the event was never reported to the College.
Testament to a very kind hearted pastor.

The attached picture is of the 4 of us with Leo's car the morning we left Eugene for our Summer Adventure.

Filed in Loving Memory of JoAnn
Sally Sanders Wakefield

We Lost A Great Lady This Week

We Lost A Great Lady This Week
by Bart Gragg on Friday, April 1, 2011 at 7:33pmA great lady died this week. When people die (I make no excuses for not saying 'passed'), when people that we were close to die, many thoughts and emotions pass through our brains and bodies. Even as we are in stunned and in shock, thoughts stream through our brains like vignettes in a black and white movie. I am still in shock days after looking down to see a text from another great friend, who wasn't sure I had heard. I have a feeling I will be in more shock when I step into the church for the memorial...for there is when the reality will finally come to rest with the finality of a boulder from a landslide stopping in a dry creek bed.

Let me say something here about another choice of words - "great lady."

She wasn't great as in famous. Well, maybe a little amongst the Toastmasters of the Bay Area, but even then it she was not a seeker of the limelight.

She wasn't great as in being all things to all people.
She wasn't great as in holding a torch for any one specific cause.

She was a great lady.

It wasn't poise and elegance that made her great. The Lord knows she wasn't one for 'putting on airs'.

It wasn't that she was a great speaker. Anyone that ever heard her speak knew she had a natural gift that wasn't hampered by the polish professionals like to think makes them great.

JoAnn Juhala was a great lady, and shall remain so in my mind as long as I have one.
You ask "What made her so great?"

Humor.
Smiles.
Hugs.
Telling the truth in a way that didn't hurt.

Getting us in trouble whispering jokes to me at business meetings.

Great Mom. Not just a mother, but a Mom, a friend to her children, all grown with children of their own. Funny thing, I was never around when when JoAnn had the grand-kids over. Could have been timing. If I had made that observation to her she would have smiled, put her hands on her hips and either whispered conspiratorially or loud enough for everyone to hear "It's because I don't want you to be teaching them things...!"

JoAnn adopted people (like me) as many folks adopt stray cats. Stray cats don't have to live in your house, but you take care of them when they come around. It's just what you do.

Seriously. I never knew JoAnn to not care about anyone. Never a bad word. Doesn't mean we didn't share a few giggles about a low neck line on someone or a hair do that would make a wood-duck or peacock proud. She just wasn't mean about it the way a lot of people are. Yet, it wasn't that she wasn't mean about it, she actually cared about how people might place themselves in a position that wouldn't benefit them.

All of us go through rough patches. How we carry ourselves through them is a great part of what makes up our character.

JoAnn had rough patches. Some I knew of, some I heard of. She fought a battle with breast cancer. Maybe more than one. She fought a nutrient imbalance in her blood. What took her life was non-alcohol related cirrhosis of the liver. Maybe from chemo.

What took her soul was God. You see, throughout it all, JoAnn believed in God. It was the one thing that kept her going, for no mortal could go through the things she dealt with and smile all the way. It wasn't a particularly hard life to her personally... No. What could have made it rough when JoAnn cared for the Lord first, her husband Harold next, her children and blood relatives, and then almost anyone else she ever met? But that first part, that caring for the Lord first, that's what got her through. That's what gave her poise and dignity and the ability to push on. And deal with stray cats like me.

We lost a great lady this week. And God gained not only a great lady, but a great right-hand.

I miss you JoAnn.

Bart

WHO AM I!!!

(This was a speech given by JoAnn Feb. 18, 2009)

WHO AM I!!! It has been a long time since I asked myself that question as the answer seems to change with the wind. In reflection, I must admit to being a variety of types – some good and some that need improvement.

I discovered some time ago that I have a Masters Degree entitled W.B. with a minor in a Capital P.

These may not be familiar to you, but they have directed my entire life and continue to choose the paths that I take. The title of my Masters – or the W.B. – reminds me that I am an eternal, optimistic “Wanna Be”. It might not be very glamorous or carry with it the title of CEO of any company, but it has been the catalyst for many projects and goals. It has launched or actually pushed me into situations that I never anticipated or planned or even wanted.

On the down side, I have fumbled through many events that have taken me no where and left me wondering how on earth I ever started that series of my life. On the other hand, it has opened new vistas that I never would have adventured into on my own.

I started out many years ago as a very shy middle child. Middle children are peace makers. They aren’t the “first” at anything and they aren’t the baby” of the family; therefore they are just there. I learned at a very early age that sitting around, making small talk, being the belle of the ball wasn’t my talent and if I wanted to be comfortable in social settings, I had to have a purpose.

Because of that, I volunteered for any position needed – reception committee, decoration group, clean-up, etc. It has served me well because I can always find something to do and feel very comfortable doing it.

Another surprise in my life was the aptitude tests that we all took about the 7th grade. With each one, I scored very high in sales and chemistry – the two situations I hated most. To this day, I still hate sales and have never gotten involved in chemistry, but have found that each job I have had has actually involved sales to some degree – whether it was sales support making others look good, charting goals, or it was just selling my thoughts and ideas on life to those in need.

The chemistry thing never kicked in, but I discovered that chemistry is all around us – whether in cooking or cleaning or gardening or decorating OR JUST PLAIN LIFE. They all require certain elements that when put together in the right combinations make beautiful successes, but if the ingredients and proportions are wrong, you can certainly make a mess.

My other talent that I have minored in is the Big “P” degree – or procrastination. This is usually not a good trait, but if used to perfection it can guide you through many situations that have proved to be beneficial, but not as good as they should have been. It is one of the heavy burdens I continue to carry but will hopefully, someday overcome.

This brings me to where I am now. Harold and I started out many years ago with no special goals and career paths. In those days you graduated from college and got a job. If it turned into a successful career – good for you. We planned our wedding with no thought of how we would survive – we just knew we would. Since those beginning days of meeting in school in Oregon, of settling down in Antioch, of moving to North Carolina when he was drafted into the Army, of returning back to Antioch with 2 baby girls. Then we added the two boys and proceeded to make a life.

The family has grown now with the addition of 2 sons-in-law and 2 daughters-in-law and the addition of 13 grandchildren. I am happy to say they are all gainfully employed or in school, they have done some wonderful things – all or most of which have been legal.

These days I am still working on my Wanna Be list.

I love to write. I want to be a great speaker some day. I have no illusions of having my picture on Time Magazine as speaker of the year, but I want to say things that will give encouragement to those that need encouraging. I want to give hope to those that need hope.

I want to leave others with a smile on their face and make them laugh – either at me or with me.

I want to share my love of family with those that have no family. I want to open minds to ideas and let others see how important friends are, how much I depend on my relationship with my God and how wonderful our world really is if we will just look for the Rainbow instead of the clouds.

I have realized that winning a race doesn’t necessarily make you a Winner any more than losing a race makes you a Loser.

I saw a study the other day that I am anxious to pour through its pages. The title was just simply “Finish Strong”.

I’m not sure what the study will reveal, but it seems we put so much emphasis on Starting Right with all the right connections and education and finances that we miss the journey. I think we should work toward the end so when we get there, it will be said of us, that we did indeed FINISH STRONG!!!!!
Jo Ann Juhala - Feb. 18, 2009

MY SILENT GIANT

(This was written by JoAnn in 1998 - Posted by Jeff Juhala)

I’m sure we’ve all had at least one. Those who are very fortunate might have two or three. Some are hard to recognize.

A giant should stand tall, be very imposing, maybe a little frightening even.

But that is the way we have been programmed to think about giants. Not all giants are easily recognizable. When I saw my first Silent Giant, I didn’t recognize her at all; in fact she seemed like anything but a giant.

Her name was Lettie Geneva Plummer Moore and she was my maternal grandmother. I don’t remember our first encounter, she was just always there.

During the beginning years, she lived far away so our encounters were few and far between, but she always existed in my life. My mother spoke of her often and they exchanged letters – that’s the way things were done in those days. Phone calls only meant bad news and were very expensive. We always received birthday cards and a Christmas present in the mail.

When I was 7, my tall, very stern and serious grandfather had a stroke and passed away. This was a sad time for my grandmother, as he was the center of her life and she lived just to be in the circle of his presence. They were farm people, so farming and raising children was all she had ever done. She was in her early 60’s and didn’t know that she was starting on a 30 year journey of living alone. At first, she lived with one son or the other, working at a few odd jobs, sitting with older people, babysitting when she was needed and even washing dishes at a local restaurant. These were all temporary and not the delight of her life. But she never complained. She just seemed to roll along with whatever the situation, grateful to be alive.

After a few years of being a rolling stone, she came to our house to stay. Our house was small but she and I shared a room and she was a delightful, disciplined roommate. She felt that when the alarm went off, it meant it was time to get up. I had other ideas. I would cover up my head and she would gently shake the bed. After a few times of this, I gave in and got up just because I knew I couldn’t win.

She soon found a small place of her own and settled down for the rest of her life close to my school. I could drop by on the way home from school and she was always there with a candy dish of corn candy and marshmallow peanuts.

She was active in the ladies church group and never seemed to be lonely, even when she was alone. She read her Bible and many other magazines, listened to the radio, sewed, croqeted lace doilies and pillowcases and loved to quilt. I would stop by and cut out quilt blocks. We would put them together like the pieces of a puzzle, sew them and then start to quilt the back and stuffing to the top. The quilt tops were always made of old scrapes so you could pick out the pieces that had been a play outfit, a school dress or the very nice “Sunday Dress” that you only wore on special occasions. Quilts were always full of memories.

I didn’t realize it then that in her quiet way she was instilling in me many thoughts and values that still govern my life. She always told me to close my closet before I went to bed. To pick out my clothes for the next day so I didn’t have to stand in front of my closet trying to decide what would make me beautiful and to always go to bed early because I had a hard time getting up in the morning. She was never a leader in her eyes, but set her own pace.

She traveled the states on the Greyhound bus because that was all she could afford, and seeing her other children and grandchildren was more important than the convenience of traveling any other way and her will was stronger than her fear of any danger along the way. She had a quiet sense of humor, but a deep respect for my parents and the standard that they set for our family.

When I was in high school, she let us use her old garage for a Halloween party. That was in the days when we didn’t know Halloween was bad and just enjoyed having a fun time together. She helped us decorate and keep it a secret because no one was supposed to know the location and we just kidnapped the kids from the church. She delighted in having all the kids over and tried to teach us to pull taffy, which we never mastered.

The day of my wedding, as I woke to the sound of rain beating on the window and pouring down the drain, the phone rang and it was Gramma. The first thing she said to me was, “Happy is the bride the sun shines on.” I laughed and said, “Gramma, it is pouring rain!!”. She giggled and replied, “I know”.

When Harold was drafted into the Army, and I was expecting Janelle, we decided I would wait for him to find where he was going to be stationed before moving there. That meant I would have the baby first and then go to be with him. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but seemed to make the most sense……to everyone but Gramma. One day she called me and very emphatically said, “You need to be with your husband, he shouldn’t be there all alone.” She was right, so a month before Janelle was born, I moved from one to coast to the other and it was the best idea.

As my children came along she helped and enjoyed having little ones around again. One Christmas Eve there was knock on the door and there stood Santa with a bag of goodies. Santa wore a flannel red cap (to cover up any gray hair), my dad’s red sweater, a pillow stuffed in the usual places, red flannel underwear to look like pants and funny black boots that I had seen in my dad’s closet. But Santa didn’t sound like my dad – Santa sounded very much like my Grandmother.

One day, as she was getting older, I took her to have a TB X-ray. They did them in a traveling trailer and you had to catch them when they came to town. As we crossed the street, she tripped on the curb and fell to her knees on all fours. I was so frightened, I grabbed her arm to help her up, because if she was up, then I would know nothing was broke. With her trying to catch her breath, and me pulling on her arm, nothing was working properly. Finally, she looked up and me and said, “Jo Ann, I have to breath to live, but you aren’t going to help by breaking my arm.” We both sat down and laughed, caught our breath, and then proceeded to get the X-Ray.

I remember the day she wanted me to take her to the funeral home to make her arrangements. It was such a silly thing to do, because I never expected her to need them. She just matter-of-factly talked to the director, walked into the casket room, picked out a sensible casket, (“No reason wasting money on something like that”), and we went on our way.

On her 90th birthday, we planned a party. She didn’t want any fuss, but did love to have her loved ones around. The kids all came and she was “Queen for the Day”. At dinner time, we all went to the Riverview restaurant close to the water. It was the nicest place in town, and basically the only one. The hall was large and open to the public, so they put the tables in a U-shape for us at the end of the room for the most privacy they could provide. Gramma was so embarrassed, but went along with us in her own quiet way. At the end of the dinner, the waitresses came out with a piece of cake and we all sang Happy Birthday. Then the whole room joined in. Instead of hiding under the table as I expected her to do, she carefully stood up slowly, smiled her big but shy smile, put one hand on the table, and with the other hand gave the crowd a “Queen of England” wave. She did indeed look like royalty.

After she broke her hip and had to move from her little apartment, her life became days and nights that all rolled into each other at the rest home. As with most people in this situation, she remembered most of her friends, but confused those closest to her. At times she didn’t know my name, but always asked me about the kids and called them by name. Those days were hard, especially for my mom. As we watched her transform from her earthly body to her heavenly body, we missed the days that used to be, but knew that she was ready to be with the Lord. We still miss her.

It is hard to think of her as a young bride, but we have pictures to prove she was, how she stood so very tall. She spoke of playing baseball and dating my grandfather in his buggy, of going to church picnics and living on the farm.

As I get older, my mirror seems to look more and more like her all the time. I think of the funny things that she instilled in me along the way and hope I can show her the honor that is due in my relationship with my grandchildren. jj 5/3/98

S. JoAnn Juhala: Obituary

S. JoAnn Juhala

May 10, 1939 ~ March 30, 2011

Resident of Antioch

JoAnn Juhala, 71, peacefully went to be with her Lord on Wednesday, March 30, 2011. She was surrounded by her loving family who were the light of her life. She is survived by her loving husband of 49 years, Harold, whom she met while attending Eugene Bible College. She is also survived by her children, whom she adored, Janelle (Terry) Abbott of Hood River, Oregon; Julie (Monty) Owens of Concord; Jerry ( Linda) Juhala of Alameda; and Jeff (Janet) Juhala of Fountain Valley. She was blessed with 14 grandchildren: Dominic Cardoso, Jake Owens, Jennifer, Jamie and Jeremy Abbott, Jessica, Janae, Jonathan and Judy Juhala, Candace, Brittany, David, Katelyn and Alyssa Juhala. She was preceded in death by her father Ernest Vaughan and grandson David R. Juhala. A celebration of her life will be held on Saturday, April 2, 2011 at 11:00am at Calvary Temple Church, 4725 Evora Road, Concord, CA 94520. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to : Royal Family Kids, In Memory of JoAnn Juhala, 3000 W. MacArthur Blvd. Suite 412, Santa Ana, CA 92704 www.rfkc.org.

Published in Contra Costa Times on April 1, 2011