Coordinating Council epitomizes Downey's spirit of volunteerism

DOWNEY — There is a saying that knowledge is power and that is what the Coordinating Council has in the city of Downey, receiving information about what the organizations, businesses and other clubs do and are planning to do in the city.

For the most part, the 34 club representatives are the ones who are informed first and extend that information to their members hoping that the information will reach the streets.

“Knowing what is going in the city you are living in, it is very important for all the residents of Downey,” said Lois Buchanan, Coordinating Council Banquet Chair. “I love to be around people and love the community. Being a volunteer gives meaning to your life and it makes you feel good. Helping others and helping organizations to fulfill their purpose is the way it should be.”

Buchanan is one of those members who has been a volunteer her whole life. Everything started in 1964 with the PTA school club one year after she moved into the city with her kids and husband. She is already 81, but doesn’t complain or show any signs of wanting to retire. Actually, she is a member of at least three clubs and helps in all of them.

If it wasn’t for the voluntarism, Buchanan said, this community would not be what it is today. “Downey is a lovely community because of the volunteer work that many people have done. The longer you are in Downey, the more you will appreciate it.”

When I asked her about the lack of participation of the newer generations as volunteers in Downey, she is too polite and doesn’t have any criticism for the people that do not get involved in any organization. She knows that raising a family is very important and emphasizes that currently there is some participation and every club is responsible for their membership.

Bobbie Bruce, the current Coordinating Council President, agrees with Buchanan that at least for now, there are enough volunteers for the current clubs, but soon, they may need some help. The Coordinating Council reached its highest point with 110 cubs when it was born in the 70’s, but today it barely reaches 40 clubs or less. They meet once a month and in order to encourage participation, the Club recognizes the Downey residents that contribute their time to the city as a volunteer.

For Salvador Cervantes, a Toastmaster member and resident of Downey for over 30 years, his concern as a member of the Coordinating Council is to make sure that the new generation of Downey is going to be ready when the current leadership has to pass the baton to them.

“I want to see more young people getting involve. We have some, but we need more,” said Cervantes, who is also a member of several clubs in the area. “I see the need for new blood to develop the skills in leadership and in communication which are very important to continue the leadership of the clubs.

Cervantes considers that if nothing is done now, there is always the risk that more clubs will continue struggling with membership and some will disappear and this cannot happen in Downey. He underlines that voluntarism and the level of participation of Downey’s residents in organizations is what makes the city unique.

Downey has been characterized by being one of the most philanthropic cities in the southwest of Los Angeles County, supporting its residents and non-residents in areas that may be life changing for many, such as receiving a scholarship to go to college, clothing to go to prom, food for the homeless, support for the elderly and for after-school programs, among others.

There are also many organizations like the Aerospace Legacy Foundation, Assistance League, Chamber of Commerce, the Historical Society, the Rose Float Association, the Symphonic Society, Foodhelp, Friends of Downey Library, and Women Club among others that for decades represent what the city is about; the backbone of Downey, added Cervantes.

However, all this support has been possible thanks to the helping hands of volunteers in non-profit organizations that are committed to maintain and improve the standard of living of the residents of the city and its surroundings areas.

That is why, even Rick Rodriguez, the mayor of the city, is working on plans to support the Coordinating Council in order to avoid any duplication of efforts in one particular area. Unfortunately, this reporter wasn’t able to get a clear vision so far about the mayor’s plan regarding the Coordinating Council.

The difference between health and wellness

“Health is a state of body. Wellness is a state of mind.”

This statement was made relevant to me when I worked as a nurse’s aide at Villa Elena Convalescent Hospital in Norwalk.

I learned many life lessons there I don’t believe I could have learned anywhere else from people fragile in spirit and/or body.

When I began working at the hospital, I focused on the patient’s physical needs to the best of my abilities, which many times had to be done quickly in order for them to be ready for meals, showers and therapy sessions. I was told at my evaluation meeting with the head nurse that she was pleased with my efficiency. I wore that like a badge of honor. That is until one of my patient’s, Mr. Roberts, taught me an important lesson.

He was a man in his 90’s, with steel blue eyes, a strong jaw line, a full head of white hair and a dimple in the middle of his chin that reminded me of the iconic film actor Robert Mitchum.

I was informed by the nurse that Mr. Roberts was not eating regularly. She instructed me to make sure he complied, before his family came to visit. I walked in with my game face on and asked what his problem was. Mr. Roberts looked at me and stated that just because he was confined to his wheelchair, his mind was not.

He said, “You look like a reasonable person. Go look at the frames on the wall.”

I walked to the framed certificates. I was stunned to learn he’d been an assistant professor at M.I.T. before completing his Ph.D. at Harvard and awarded the distinction of Harvard University professor.

For the first time, I saw him as a person whose mind was intact, though his body was a contradiction. I turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry if I have offended you,” I told him. “While I’m on duty, I will go to the kitchen whenever you are ready for something to eat.” He smiled and asked that I wait until after visiting hours.

“Not a problem,” I replied with a smile of my own.

Maria, another person on my floor, taught me how to enjoy life regardless of the circumstances. She was a double amputee; she lost both her legs to diabetes. She had bright red hair and a personality to match. She was optimistic and effervescent.

Whenever the call for bingo in the dining area was announced, she’d put her wheelchair in gear and race to get her favorite table. I asked her how she managed to be so cheerful. She simply stated, “It’s a choice, honey!”

Those encounters forever changed how I cared for and interacted with the residents. I started to have real conversations with them; allowing me to learn from their life experiences and I think I’m a better person for the opportunity to listen to them as I attended to their physical well being.

Yolanda Adele is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

The Outhouse

There’s something about things from the past that just call to me, and I cherish any remembered glimpses of Mom, Granddad White and Aunt Gerry.

Long before we came to know him as Granddad White, he was stepdad to our mom and “unky” (an endearment for uncle) to Aunt Gerry. Bea and Gerry got along famously right from the beginning when they were just kids and Aunt Gerry would visit her unky from Alabama where he lived in Imperial, California.

Granddad White was the world’s biggest tease (as we six Benson kids would learn in later years), and you never wanted to give him any fodder, as he would never let you live it down. And, although his teasing was done in a loving and very affectionate manner, it was still embarrassing and to the hilt or the 9th degree!

It just so happened that on one of her summertime visits, Mom and Aunt Gerry had to use the outhouse, and decided to “sit together.” As teenagers often do, they got to talking and sharing and giggling, and they fell into the mire.

Their first thought was to somehow escape Granddad White seeing them as they walked across the lawn, arms set apart, dripping in “it” from head to toe! But, escaping his “eagle eye” was not in the cards, as just at that moment he happened to be walking by! Yes, he came, he saw, he teased them on the spot, and he would tease them long afterward about their “twosome dip” into the bottom of the outhouse.

He would repeat the story in later years to we six Benson kids, plus Aunt Gerry’s three, and everyone who would listen knew that Mom and Aunt Gerry had fallen into the outhouse together when they were young teenagers!

I recall the last time the incident was talked about was at the 34th Benson Family Reunion in September 2011. That would be the last reunion Aunt Gerry attended before her passing at the age of 97 in 2012. She never missed the annual event, and the Bea Benson Award was created in 1986 to specifically commemorate the high regard and affection felt for her by the Benson family.

We still talk about her wonderful “Southern cooking”, and how we looked forward each year, at reunion time, to her delicious (grand size) homemade cinnamon rolls and her to-die-for-lemonade that were sure to grace our potluck table.

The subject of the outhouse incident and what happened that long ago teenage summer day still brought back chuckles and glimpses of three beloved family members…Mom, Granddad White and Aunt Gerry.

Yolanda Adele is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

The Archuleta road kill bill

Roadkill! Is it that big of a priority for the people of Downey, Pico Rivera, Whittier, Norwalk or Cerritos? Will it help feed California’s homeless, or help make California’s housing affordable for struggling families?

Well, our newest state elected official, State Senator Bob Archuleta, thinks it will. He introduced legislation (Senate Bill 395) to allow drivers of vehicles that kill an animal to pick it up, take it home and eat it.

If the animal is severely injured but not dead, you still would be allowed to pick it up, take it home and kill it, as long as it’s all done “in a safe, legal and humane manner.”

What is the reasoning behind this kind of bill? Here is what Archuleta says: “This translates into hundreds of thousands of pounds of healthy meat that could be utilized to feed those in need.”

So is this the Senate’s new homeless or anti-poverty program, eat road kill?

To be fair, the legislation limits it to a person who “unintentionally strikes and kills a deer, elk, antelope, or wild pig on a roadway in California with a vehicle.” But when was the last time you heard of Downey residents complaining to the city council about all those wild pigs, elk or antelopes crossing through the city? Is their even a deer crossing anywhere in Downey?

There are a lot of real problems facing our local communities such as housing, school debt, traffic, homeless, drug addiction, etc. I’m sorry, but I don’t think “Road kill” isn’t even on the list.

About the only thing lying dead on the streets in Downey, Pico, Cerritos or Norwalk are squirrels, pigeons and pets.

It is time for our State Senator to get serious about the issues impacting the communities he represents and leave the road kill for someone else.

Raul Riesgo is a commentator who has been featured on Spanish language news outlets Telemundo and Mundo Fox News discussing both political and Latino community issues. He has written a book on the development of the city of Pico Rivera, that was featured on CNN’s “Latino’s in America” series. Follow him on Twitter @rariesgo.

The Stranger in the Alley

On the way to my doctor’s office on a cold November morning, I used a detour due to road construction. I slowly drove through an alley when I noticed a man sitting on the concrete. His legs were stretched out in front of him. His feet were swollen, bulging out of his lace-less shoes. I could not tell how old he was. He wore a brown tattered jacket. His hair was thick and matted.

I stopped my car and rolled down my window. He looked at me as though he were trying to recognize me. I don’t know why, but I smiled at him. He forced a weak smile. It was evident that he was homeless by the dirty blankets piled behind his back. I had the urge to give him money though he did not ask for any. I looked at his feet; it was apparent that it would be difficult for him to get up to go find a place to buy food.

It was a crisp morning. I asked him if he’d like a cup of hot coffee and something to eat. He just looked at me with a vulnerable expression. At that moment I literally felt my heart ache. Fighting back tears, the lump in my throat was painful. My emotions took me by surprise. I had seen homeless people many times before and though I felt sorry for them, I was never affected like this. “Why now?,” I asked myself.

Apologetically, I said, goodbye to the stranger and prayed that my doctor visit wouldn’t take too long.

In the waiting room, I felt anxious as if I had another pending appointment or as if I had to pick up a child soon after the last school bell rang. I sat in the waiting room clasping my hands in an attempt to calm myself.

After my appointment, I found a McDonald’s and purchased coffee and a meal. I drove to the ally and found the stranger. He was lying on his side on the ground. I parked my car and walked over to him. He slowly rose to a sitting position. He had a handkerchief in his hand he used to wipe his weather-beaten face. I handed him the coffee and bag of food. After a short hesitation, he took it.

He didn’t say anything audible to me, but his soft brown eyes spoke volumes. They told me he was grateful and he was a proud man in spite of his circumstances. Perhaps that is why I didn’t stay to watch him eat.

Subsequently, I found myself thinking about that stranger often, imagining his previous life and even inventing bits of dialogue between us. I thought about him when it rained, while I prepared a meal, when putting up holiday decorations, or while attending a social event.

I returned to that alley with my husband many times. We brought him a jacket, a shaving bag packed with sundries, a sleeping bag and food. Each time his eyes conveyed warm feelings to me. I didn’t know if he could speak English or if he just couldn’t speak at all.

I was going to ask someone I knew who worked at homeless shelter if they could help. Unfortunately, when I went to see the stranger, he was gone. It never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be there.

I felt a rush of emotions as I drove up and down the alley and streets searching for him to no avail. That was many years ago. I still ask myself why I didn’t do more.

All I can do now is to continue to pray for him and in remembrance of him to reach out to others in need. I believe I’m a better person for having met him.

The memory of that stranger has found shelter in my heart where I visit him and we have reflective conversations. In my heart, we are no longer strangers.

Yolanda Adele is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

Late-night thoughts

I haven't had this many thoughts all week, why now that it's 2:30 am is my brain filled with useless information?

I am not sure why I felt the need to look out my upstairs window now. All I see are several other houses (all lights off), the occasional car zipping down the street, and one lone opossum exploring my driveway. I'm watching him intently like it matters where he's going. And that car that just drove away, where is he going at this hour?

This candle on my bookshelf looks like a tree in the moonlight. You know the best trees ever were the trees in the orchard, when I was a kid. We'd have crab apple wars and peach pitching contests. I wonder why my granddaughter is allergic to peaches.

My mind is racing about a book I've wanted to write for four years and wonder how I will ever get it finished if I can't seem to get it started. Maybe I really will start tomorrow with a designated time every day to write. I'm sure that will help.

Oh wait, I can't start tomorrow. I don't think I'll be sleeping any tonight and my two granddaughters will be here at 6 a.m.

I wonder what we can do for fun tomorrow. We got free passes to a couple of zoos when we went to the Science Museum. Maybe we can..... o,h never mind, it will be too hot for me to spend the day at the zoo.

Let me check my email —nothing much going on there. Facebook — no, guess everyone's sleeping.

Why do I have such trouble sleeping at night? I have for years. I wonder how sweet Ms. Johnson is doing. She lives in that house right there. She's blind and lives alone in that big house. I suppose there's never any lights on there. I never noticed.

Wow, my plants in the front yard look really nice. The moon is so perfectly full tonight. Boy, my oldest grandchild Elizabeth loves stargazing with the big telescope on the driveway at the river. The sky is so clear there that it's more light with stars that dark with nothingness. That reminds me of a passage I either heard or read once that was talking about the sky being so full of stars that it looked like "little holes in the floor of heaven."

Speaking of holes, I wonder if the corner donut shop still sells donut holes. They were so yummy. When my son was in junior high, we'd stop on the way to school and grab a donut. His was always blue. Who eats blue donuts? Chocolate? Yes. Maple? Yes. Vanilla? Yes. What the heck is blue?

We'd always pass the same Mustang on our way out of the donut shop parking lot, and my son would wave to the pretty young girl inside also being driven to school. I can't believe they have been married for 19 years already. Where did all that time go?

Time — is it morning yet? I think I might be a little crabby tomorrow. Do you know that Sister Cornelius, second grade, was the crabbiest person I ever knew? She had to be 100 years old back then. Her and that darned yardstick. I think she whacked me everyday!

Now Mr. Chichecki was the coolest teacher I ever had. I had him for both 6th and 7th grade. He taught both. I loved him! Now who in the world fails kindergarten? Yes, I really did. Of course there was a really good explanation for it.

Why do I care about this now? Can't I think about all these very important things in the daytime like most human beings? I wonder how many human beings there are in the world. I wonder how many of them are leading a happy life. And what the heck is the meaning of life anyway? Why are we here?

I should buy new bedding for this room. I wonder what color I like. Should I change the bedding in my room too or just leave it? Do I really care enough?

I wonder if…OK, this is just stupid. I need some sleep. I wonder if those Sleep Number beds are any good?

Why won't my brain shut off? It would be different if I was solving some world problems.

Nope, no world problem solutions, just donut holes. Story of my life.

Gail Earl is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

Dad's last haircut

Every week I cut my husband’s hair. I have done this for over 50 years. Each time while I’m cutting, another vision comes to my mind. One that I will never forget and honestly never want to.

Let me start at the beginning. I got my Michigan cosmetology license when I was 16 and worked in 3 different beauty shops. My dad was very willing to let me cut his hair.

Dad was very particular about his hair. He enjoyed many different looks as far as his hair was concerned. The one constant that he always insisted on was that his hair be neatly trimmed over his ears. Never a shaggy hair hung over his ear.

Dad was very much into fashion and absolute good grooming. He loved fancy suits and shoes and believed that no outfit would be complete without a fresh shave and trim. The fresh trim over his ears meant a lot to him. In his mind, a proper man would never allow anything but.

When we moved to California, I went back to school and got my cosmetology license. I got married and the tradition of cutting hair continued. My husband, Dale, and my dad were very good buddies. Every Saturday morning, we would go to my mom and dad’s house early. I’d trim their hair, then the two of them would run around Santa Monica doing errands. They would go and get shoe shines, go to car dealers and look at cars, go to the marina and look at boats, and go to the butcher’s and pick up a fresh supply of meat for the week. Usually they’d stop for a hot dog on their way back home. It was a Saturday morning routine that they shared for many years, each starting with a haircut.

Dad’s facial hair and the hair on his head went through many changes. He embraced keeping up with new looks. He was a professional man so his only restriction was that it was neat and clean.

So today as I cut my husband’s hair, I am remembering Dad’s last haircut. I remember knowing how important it was, both to him and to me.

It was 1993. Mom and Dad had moved to Palm Springs after they retired. Dad had another heart attack and they were sitting in the back seat as a neighbor drove them to the hospital. Dad died, stuck in traffic on the freeway.

All of us kids raced to the hospital to be with mom. Of course, we went through all of the typical absolute grief. We decided that each of us kids would go into the room where dad was alone and say our final goodbyes. As I stood there talking with dad it just struck me to the core how disheveled he looked. I took my comb and scissor from my purse and trimmed over his ears.

Dad was a beautiful man.

Gail Earl is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

I Wondered

Mom was working at the glass factory. I had the whole day to myself, though she called randomly to check on me. She worried a lot.

Once I tried to explain I had been in the bathroom when she called. She said, ‘That’s no excuse!’

Across the street from our house lived two sisters. Jane was 10 like me and Ida 12. The sisters were latchkey kids also.

On a hot summer afternoon that seemed to slowly idle by, I was on my perch at the top of our porch step wondering if a person could actually shrivel up and die of boredom. Then like an answered prayer Ida shouted at me, “Hey kid, do ya wanna come over and play hide and seek with us? We got cold lemonade!”

I followed them to their backyard. It was overrun with tall weeds and rusted junk. Next to the house lay the cellar door. Ida opened it.

“Kid, you’re first,” Ida demanded.

“My name is Soledad.”

“Whatever, go down there and count to a hundred before coming out to look for us.”

“When we’ve all had a turn we’ll get some cool lemonade,” Jane promised.

“Okay,” I answered shyly. I slowly went down the narrow steps. Suddenly, the door slammed shut, startling me. I lost my footing and bounced down the rest of the steps like a rubber ball, landing face first on the cold dirt floor. I screamed, “Help!”

From the side wall vents I heard the girls shriek with laughter.

I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or shut. I held my hands in front of my face…nothing. Oh, God. Did the fall blind me, as my mortal self lies in this pool of blackness? No! I managed to get up.

There was a strong odor of insecticide. I waved my hands to cut through the cobwebs I felt on my head and face. I’d heard of people going mad in this kind of inkiness. Mad! That reminded me of what Mama was going to be if I died here without food or lemonade and wasn’t home to answer the phone. I pictured her standing over my corpse saying, “I told you to stay in the house. See what happens when you don’t mind me!”

“Ida, we better let her out. Mom called, she is on her way home.”

Dang it! “Okay, Jane. On three let’s unlock the door and run in the house.”

I turned in the direction of the rattling sound of the lock and found the steps. I pushed the door several times with my shoulder before it swung open. As I bolted across the street I managed to pull the yarn off my neck that my house key was attached to.

I ran up the stairs two at a time. As soon as I opened the door the phone rang. I picked up the receiver.

“ Nina, what are you up to?”

“Nothing!”

“There’s some frozen lemonade in the freezer. Why don’t you fix it for yourself?”

“I’m not in the mood for lemonade, Mama.”

“Okay. Stay out of trouble. Bye.”

I hung up the phone and returned to my perch at the top of our porch and wondered how many people die in cellars.

Yolanda Adele is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

The Hospital Gown

I know this gown

I’ve been in it plenty of times

I feel sorry for it

It’s always being tossed around

And It lacks zest

It’s just dull lookin’

Each time I’ve been in it, I always feel a draft

From behind

It’s frustrating trying to keep it in its place

Even though there are strings to tie, your back and behind are still exposed

I always put it on the wrong way, intentionally…

Then I’m told I’m not wearing it correctly

What is the purpose?

Then after going through the trouble of tying it,

Then its time to untie it

That’s even more frustrating

It’s like trying to scratch your back

Then it must be discarded in a laundry bin

But in a way, it can be bitter-sweet

It somehow kept me warm

But then I can hardly wait to get rid of it!

I will never, ever understand the hospital gown

Yolanda Reyna is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.

Financial Partners Credit Union unveils new logo

DOWNEY — Financial Partners Credit Union, serving more than 80,000 members in California, unveiled an updated brand icon and logo to reflect the 80-years strong credit union’s commitment to its brand promise of helping members achieve their financial goals through innovation and collaboration.

Redesigned by Los Angeles-based Simon & Associates, the new Financial Partners Credit Union logo features a new interpretation of the familiar “happy member” icon with its arm raised in triumph and leaning forward.

The edges are very precise, speaking to the credit union’s focus on excellence. The color palette is richer and more vibrant to reflect the passion the organization has for helping members achieve their financial goals.

“Our new logo is more than a rebrand – it’s a commitment to our brand promise and to our members,” said Nader Moghaddam, president and CEO of Financial Partners Credit Union. “I love that it clearly relays our three internal pillars of Clarity, Capability and Motivation. When those three things come together, excellence occurs. We combine these foundations of excellence to help our members achieve their financial well-being. Simply put, we wanted the logo and the brand to better reflect who we are - a forward leaning organization with a passion for providing hardworking Californians with a better way to bank.”

Always on the leading edge of technology to develop better tools for members, Financial Partners was one of the first credit unions to launch mobile deposit and was among the first west coast financial institutions to adopt a centralized teller system.

With a focus on making the lending process frictionless, the Credit Union recently launched a digital mortgage application which allows members to apply for a home loan in as little as eight minutes.

“We have focused on being a true partner to our members for over 80 years,” added Moghaddam. “We are dedicated to helping them reach financial success.”

The Baby Aspirin Caper

The Munoz family lived across the street from us. Annie Munoz was a stay-at-home-mom, and she looked out for all the kids on the block. My daughter, Tracy, was the youngest, and was dubbed “The Baby” by Annie.

One day when Tracy was playing with Gilbert Munoz and his cousin, Greg, the three of them meandered across the street to our home. While there, they got the bright idea to share in a bottle of that cherry-candy-tasting St. Joseph Baby Aspirin.

They then left our house to go back to the Munoz residence. Meanwhile my live-in sitter, who spoke only Spanish, went running across the street to Annie with the near-empty baby aspirin bottle.

Annie began questioning the kids about the amount they may have consumed and got a different answer each time from each one of them. A serious situation became dire when at first it was just two fingers held up, then the count changed to three fingers, then it became four and frighteningly more.

Annie then decided that a trip to the emergency and getting their little tummies pumped was the answer to the problem.

She called me at work, and I left for home immediately.

At the Emergency Room, the “proof of the pudding” was that the kid who said he had the least amount (Gilbert) actually had the most.

That was about fifty years ago, and even today when Munoz family members see Tracy, they still refer to her as “The Baby,” and we still laugh about the day of the baby aspirin caper.

Sharon Benson Smith is a member of the writing class at Norwalk Senior Center.

Three Days of Mystery

For almost three days, my husband and I have been going crazy. There has been a mystery at our house that’s completely taken over our lives.

The other morning at 6 a.m., my husband Dale was in the driveway putting his things in the car to go to work. He came back in to get one last cup of coffee for the road, and I asked him if there was a firetruck in front of our house. He said no, left for work and I thought no more about it.

Well off and on (mostly on) all day I kept hearing this really loud siren. It was a wind-up siren followed by three loud beeps. Every time I heard it I ran outside to see where it was coming from. I saw cars going up the street and people leaving for work, but no apparent sign of a firetruck.

After several hours of it, I thought it must be someone’s alarm either on their car or in their house. All day I just kept thinking how stupid it would be to have that kind of alarm. I ran from my front yard to my back a million times because I couldn’t tell if it was coming from out front or from the block behind me. In the house it echoed and bounced off walls so I couldn’t tell the direction it came from.

When Dale came home, it continued throughout the entire night. It woke us with a start several times. The next day we walked the neighborhood looking at everyone strangely and looking at all the cars to see if perhaps it was a motion detector being set off every time a car went by. We asked our neighbors and they said no, they hadn’t heard it. Now we were on day three and going crazy.

We ran like fools trying to chase down this sound. Now mind you, this wasn’t a soft noise. It sounded like a firetruck in your driveway kind of noise. After two days and two nights of it, we had gone mad.

On the third morning I told Dale that I didn’t know, didn’t care, was not going to use up one more brain cell trying to figure out the mystery. I tried very hard to ignore it, but some things you just can’t. I was about to call the police and ask for their help. This had gone on at intervals of from every 5 to 15 minutes the entire time.

Over and over we had the same conversations, “Which way is it coming from? Did you hear it from upstairs? Could you hear it from the street? Did you see anyone leaving? Do you think it’s on the block behind us?” In the street it sounded like you had your hand on the truck, it was that loud. By this time we thought that the both of us must be crazy because no one else heard it.

We sat in our recliners totally stumped and half mad that we were living in this nightmare and couldn’t get out of it.

All of the sudden, Dale jumped up and ran across the room. He opened the cupboard under the wet bar and pulled out a toy fire truck. This truck hasn’t been looked at or played with in about three years. Dale pushed each of the 4 sound buttons and none of them had the right sound effect. We were immediately stumped and disappointed that we had not found the culprit.

Dale made sure the switch was flipped to off and just set it on top of the wet bar. As we sat in disbelief at our inability to track the noise, we sat shaking or heads. A few minutes of silence were followed by “SIREN…beep beep beep” a random noise, not one of the four programmed noise effects on the toy. He took out the batteries.

We were driven to the brink of madness. Besides being easily amused, apparently, we are just as easily confused.

Gail Earl is a member of the writing class at Norwalk Senior Center.

If Our Home Could Talk

The year was 1954. It was in Detroit, Michigan.

I remember this home with love. It was a large home directly across from the elementary school. My brother and sister already went to this school and I definitely remember the excitement I felt knowing that I, too, would get to go there very soon. I walked with my mother across the street every day to pick them up and I felt like soon I would join the club.

Our house was a very large home with many rooms and an attic than ran the entire length of the house. There was a big old staircase in one of the rooms that lead up to the attic. We were allowed to play up there so my girlfriend Lauren and I spent almost every day playing-out adventures, playing hide and seek, and dressing in old clothes found in big trunks.

There were stacks of boxes, suitcases filled with dresses, hat racks and shoe racks. There was a large full-length mirror leaning against the wall so we were always able to check our outfits. I remember having tea parties up there. If this attic could talk it would tell of the many hours that filled our imagination and how completely, the giggles of two little girls echoed in the walls.

The basement was also a destination of fun. There was a big dark room that held coal for the furnace. There was a small window where a truck could come and dump the coal into this bin. This room was a dark scary place that we would run past in order to get to another small room that was only big enough for a mattress on the floor. We had many books piled on the mattress and we loved to lay around and read our books in there. It felt like a clubhouse.

In the basement there was a wringer washing machine. We spent many hours playing bank and passing our play money through the wringer, passing it from one person to another. There was also a laundry shoot where the dirty clothing would be dropped from upstairs, down the shoot and into a large laundry basket.

Under the staircase, my younger sister and I would drape a blanket to cover the entrance and pretend that it was our house. We would sneak upstairs and take one of the kitchen drawers and slide it perfectly into place under the bottom stair. This would be our food locker. We’d fill it with slices of bread or cookies or what ever else we could pilfer without being noticed. Oh, that basement filled our imagination.

Our kitchen was a large room that taught is about working together. My brother and two sisters and I formed an assembly line each night and did the dinner dishes. Don would wash, Sharon would dry, she’d hand the dish off to Jan, and she’d hand it to me and I’d put it on the counter. Mom would then put it up where it belonged. I have fond memories of that time we spent together learning to work as a team.

In that same kitchen I remember bobbing for apples in a big galvanized tub. I mostly remember all the laughter in that room.

Our dining room was a large room with shiny wooden floors. There were two built-in cabinets with glass doors on them, one on each side of the room. Mom kept all of her very special dishes and crystal on display. We loved to look at all the pretty things behind glass and were taught that we were never allowed to open the doors.

There was a large wooden buffet along one wall that stored all the fancy dishes we used for holidays and special parties. A lovely white doily ran the length of the buffet. On top stood a big opened bible on a stand, surrounded by two large bunches of purple flowers from our yard. The whole middle of the room was filled with a huge table surrounded by twelve chairs. I can still see the giant turkey that sat in the middle, all golden brown.

Grandma would come from the nursing home that she lived in and sit with us for all our holiday meals. I remember dad leading our prayers and giving thanks around that table.

Our living room had a big stone fireplace. We all loved to sit around and watch the fire burn as dad told stories. Mom would bath us after dinner and send us one by one out to dad on the sofa. We’d listen to the story as we waited for the next sibling to arrive in their pajamas.

Mom would take all the laces out of our shoes, scrub them and line them up on the window sill to dry for the next day. After that mom met us in the living room and combed our hair and tied it in rags or pin curls so we would all be nice and curly by morning. By the time she was done with all of that, the stories were about finished and it was time for bed.

This house has so many good memories. If the house itself could talk it would say that love lived here.

Gail Earl is a member of the writing class at Norwalk Senior Center.

Vikings stay undefeated despite step up in competition

DOWNEY – The Downey High School boys’ swim team currently has an overall record of 4-0.

The Vikings defeated Cal, 130-40, on February 19th, defeated Ocean View, 116-37, on February 21st, defeated Lakewood, 133-35, on February 26th and defeated Santa Fe, 123-46, on February 28th. The Vikings have picked up right where they left off last season.

The Vikings have been led by returning seniors Nathan Lopez, Christian Gonzalez, Jesus Murguia, and Jose Salazar. New senior additions of Adrian Buenrostro and Jason Camacho are contributing as are juniors David Tonne, Adrian Caballero and Nathan Amador. Sophomores Tomas Marquez and Armando Flores are stepping up as is freshmen Jose Jaime.

Coach Delhousay, his staff and swimmers are all looking forward to a competitive season with non-league meets against the La Serna Lancers on March 7th (results unavailable at press time) and the Cerritos Dons next Wednesday.

San Gabriel Valley League play will begin next Tuesday against Gahr. Downey is looking to win the S.G.V.L. title for the 8th straight time and according to Coach Delhousay, “this senior group looks to go out on top.”

The Vikings have been moved up to Division III this season at CIF after two successful years in Division IV, where the Vikings finished in fourth place and second place the last two seasons, respectively. Coach Delhousay concluded by saying, “the level of competition will improve greatly, hopefully helping our guys to swim even faster this season.”

DOWNEY BOYS VOLLEYBALL: The Downey High School boys’ volleyball team currently has an overall record of 6-3 and will begin San Gabriel Valley League play when they travel to Paramount to play the Pirates on Thursday, March 21st.

The Vikings were defeated by La Serna at La Serna 3-0 on February 20th in their season opener and competed in the Redondo Union Tournament February 22nd and 23rd where they finished with a record of 4-2. Downey defeated Lakewood 2-0 on February 22nd, defeated Torrance 2-0 on February 22nd and were defeated by San Marcos 2-0, also on February 22nd.

The Vikings were defeated by Newbury Park 2-0 on February 23rd, defeated Calabasas 2-0 on February 23rd and defeated Thousand Oaks 2-0, also on February 23rd. Downey defeated Claremont at Downey 3-0 on February 28th.

The Vikings traveled to La Palma Kennedy on Wednesday for their match against the Fighting Irish (score unavailable at press time). The Vikings are also scheduled to play Norwalk at Downey on March 13th and will travel to El Dorado on March 19th for their final preseason game.

Downey finished last season with an overall record of 26-5-1 and were 10-0 in S.G.V.L. play. The Vikings are the defending C.I.F. Division 3 champion after they defeated Tustin in the championship final 25-23, 22-25, 25-17 and 25-23. Coach McCarthy, his staff and players are all looking forward to the 2019 volleyball season.

WARREN BOYS VOLLEYBALL: The Warren High School boys’ volleyball team currently has an overall record of 2-5 and will begin San Gabriel Valley League play when they host the Lynwood Knights at Warren on Thursday, March 21st.

The Bears defeated Bellflower at Warren 3-0 in their league opener on February 19th and competed in the Redondo Union Tournament where they finished with a record of 1-4. The Bears defeated Carson 2-1 on February 22nd, were defeated by Thousand Oaks 2-1 on February 22nd and were defeated by Los Alamitos 2-0, also on February 22nd.

Warren was defeated by South Torrance 2-1 on February 23rd and was defeated by Lakewood 2-0, also on February 23rd. The Bears were defeated by St. John Bosco at St. John Bosco 3-1 on Tuesday night. Warren traveled to Santa Fe to play the Chiefs yesterday and will host the Norwalk Lancers next Tuesday in their final preseason game.

Warren finished last season with an overall record of 17-6 and were 8-2 in league play. The Bears finished in second place in league play behind cross-town rival Downey, respectively. Warren was defeated by Arroyo Grande 3-1 in the second round of the C.I.F. Division 2 playoffs. Coach Lane, his staff and players are all looking forward to the 2019 volleyball season.

WARREN BASEBALL: The Warren High School baseball team currently has an overall record of 9-1 and will begin San Gabriel Valley League play when they host Paramount at Warren next Monday. The Bears are currently competing in the Poly Classic where they have a record of 3-0.

Warren defeated Bell 4-0 on February 27th, defeated South Gate 11-0 on March 1st, defeated Roosevelt 6-0 on March 5th and played Poly of Sun Valley on Wednesday (score unavailable at press time). The Bears will play a doubleheader at Hoover tomorrow. The first game is scheduled for 9:00 a.m. and the second game is scheduled for 12:00 p.m.

Coach Pearson, his staff and players are all looking forward to the 2019 baseball season and competing for a S.G.V.L. championship and playoff birth. Gahr and cross-town rival Downey will once again be the teams to beat in league play.

WARREN SOFTBALL: The Warren High School softball team currently has an overall record of 4-3 and will begin San Gabriel Valley League play when they travel to Lynwood on March 26th. The Bears were defeated by Mayfair at Warren 7-5 on February 28th and were defeated by La Serna at La Serna 7-1 on March 5th.

Warren is scheduled to play La Palma Kennedy at La Palma Kenney on March 19th and will also compete in the La Mirada Tournament on March 23rd and 30th. Coach Starksen, her staff and players are all looking forward to the 2019 softball season and qualifying for postseason play. Gahr and cross-town rival Downey will once again be the teams to beat in league play.

Downey calls town hall meeting to discuss coyotes

DOWNEY – A town hall meeting has been scheduled for April 2 to discuss coyote activity in Downey and the city’s coyote management plan.

The meeting begins at 6:30 p.m. inside council chambers at City Hall.

Downey created the coyote management plan in 2017, a 20-page document that outlines the city’s efforts to co-exist with the wild animals.

Residents can also report coyote sightings online.