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1308 Adams Ave Toppenish, WA 98948 Christmas, 2001 Wishing you a most blessed Christmas! The “new millennium” started out just like every other year. Millennium? Well, let’s not start on that. But regardless of how you count it, the fact is that time is now universally reckoned before and after our Savior’s birth.

It’s been an interesting year. Kathy got an electric bass in April, and later, not to be outdone, Rich got an amplifier for his guitar. We now play along with the worship service at church. Kathy is taking lessons from a bassist we got to know from Friday-night jazz outings at local coffee houses. We’re both improving on our instruments, Kathy more so, of course.

In June, we took a trip that touched every Western state except Colorado and New Mexico. We saw some of Rich’s cousins in California, where Cousin Earl Miller told family stories for hours. We also saw some of Kathy’s uncles, aunts and cousins in North Dakota. Those North Dakota Germans can really cook! There was a luncheon at the Methodist Church, where we had things like strudel and kuchen and other soul food. If you’ve never been on the Beartooth Highway, northeast out of Yellowstone, go there! Have a full tank of gas.

In July, there was a reunion on Rich’s mom’s side of the family, the first one since Grandma Herd died in 1955. We got reacquainted with some of Rich’s cousins and met a few we hadn’t ever seen before. Uncle Bill Herd is the reigning patriarch of that side of the family. Mary Krohn Spencer also came; dear, sweet Cousin Mary, who welcomed anyone and everyone to her house for decades, where she still lives. We were totally delighted! And her son Doug and nephew Scott Krohn told childhood stories of that clan of old Germans living in Everett. Fascinating!

In September, of course, one morning as Rich was ready to go out the door, son Jonathan called from work in Lynchburg, VA, and said to turn the TV on, that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center, and you know the rest of that story. Jon (and everyone else there) worked a 24-hour shift helping get emergency radios shipped out. Most of the emergency communication equipment on top of the WTC said “Tyco Electronics” on the side. Well, Jon works at a subsidiary of Tyco Electronics. His manager said, “This isn’t a penalty for late delivery. People are dying.” Everyone gladly pitched in and got that truckload of police and fire communication equipment on the road.

Daughter Kriss, audio-visual librarian at Immanuel College in Boston, spent the next day or two after the disaster comforting students from New York City who had no idea if their families were alive or dead, since the telephone lines were jammed and news reports conflicted with each other. Kind of startling to find out that our kids are really grown up and have become responsible citizens.

Rich’s mother passed away in October. There was a small ceremony in Toppenish and a graveside service in Snohomish, with Cousin Norm Upton officiating. We had gotten reacquainted with him and Marilyn when we returned to the West. They’re really great people.

In the aftermath of the funeral, there was an exchange of greetings and condolences via E-mail, resulting in an invitation to Rich to apply for his old job at Liberty University. It could be that we have a new address next year; we are trying to follow the Lord’s will. In any event, the mailman should be able to forward things to us. As Garfield says, “Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.”