Autobiography of Rick Richardson My senior year school photo Back row: Gregory, Me and Gary Front row: Dad, Steve, and Mom Smokey (Dad's lap) Lori (Mom's lap) Our neighbors: Kathy, Little Guy, Kimmy and Snooky Steve and Lori (in the fire truck) Me on my trike Me, Gary, Lori, Gregory, Steve Second Grade photo Third Grade photo Our House on 1st Street Me (looking out the back door) Uncle Lester, Grandpa, and Dad Fourth Grade photo Fifth Grade photo Our Trailer (and the girls) Seventh Grade looking out the back door of "the barn" (Laddy)                                               on KGRG / GRCC / 1974             Family History My great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, (William Richardson) was born in England about 1620; he was married in Newbury, Mass. to Elizabeth Wiseman, Aug 22, 1654; d. March 14, 1658. Children:  Joseph*   ... May 18, 1655                  Benjamin ... Mar 13, 1657                  Elizabeth ... Mar 14, 1658 *Joseph of Newbury married Margaret, daughter of Peter Godfrey and Mary Browne (daughter of Thomas Browne "Weaver" who came to this country in 1635.  Mary was born the same year and in History of Newbury and Savage's Genealogy "was the "first white child born in Newbury". Children:  Mary       ...  April 16, 1682                  William   ...  Mar 22, 1684                  Joseph   ...  Dec 31, 1686                  Elizabeth ... Feb 28, 1689                  Daniel      ... Apr 4, 1694                  Sarah       ... Jun 19, 1694                  Thomas    ... Feb 15, 1697                  Caleb*      ... Jun 9, 1704 *Caleb of Methuen married Tryphene Bodwell, daughter of Captain Daniel Bodwell and Elizabeth Parker. Children:  Mary      ... Jan 8, 1736                  Parker   ... Mar 7, 1738                  Caleb     ... Sep 26, 1741  (killed at Ticonderoga in French and Indian Wars)                      Tryphene ... Jan 13, 1743                  Abigail     ... Sep 8, 1746    died 1749                  Samuel    ... Feb 22, 1749  (drafted into the Revolutionary War)                  John        ... Sep 1, 1751     (also drafted into the Revolutionary War)                                   Abigale   ... Feb 25, 1754                  William*    ... Oct 21, 1756  (drummer in Revolutionary War)                   Eliphalet   ... Jul 1759 *William married Lydia Messer about 1784 (she was born about 1767 and died July 14, 1843) (William died March 21, 1836). from: Willey's Book of Nutfield: The William who married Lydia Messer came to London Derry as a blacksmith and his sons elected to work at the same trade.  He erected the first ox swing in town; bringing parts of it from Methuen.  William Messer Richardson stayed in town to assist his father.  Their blacksmith shop was located in the NW Londonderry Baptist Church (the old meeting house) The father was a drummer in the Revolutionary war, and his brothers also enlisted in that war.  He died in Londonderry, but both he and his wife were buried in Methuen, Mass. Children:   Caleb      .. Jan 3, 1786    died Mar 16, 1870                    Lydia      ... Dec 14, 1792      William Messer* ... Feb 12, 1795  died Oct 20, 1879            Nathaniel W. ... Mar 12, 1799  died Sep 18, 1848                Thomas J. ... Jun 14, 1801   died Sep 20, 1873              Elizabeth P. ... Jul 25, 1803    died Sep 4, 1859   ?                Samuel R. ... Jul 19, 1807     died Sep 4, 1859  ?                    Mary H.  ... Aug 29, 1809   died Feb 19, 1839 William Messer* married Betsy Pettingill December 28, 1820 (she was born Nov 28,1801 and died Jan 4, 1889) William Messer was a private in the company of cavalry attached to the N.H. militia in the war of 1812.  His company was composed of men from the towns of Londonderry, Windham, Pelham, and Salem.  Though not called to active service, were for several weeks, in readiness.  It is related of Mr. Richardson that once when his company was ordered to Portsmouth, and the order being countermanded before they got there, he eas so anxious to return home that he rode faster than his commander.  When later taken to task, he replied, "I could not help it; my horse was bound to go."  (Parker's History:  Hon. William Messer Richardson was a trustee of Pinerton Academy.) Children:   William P.* ... July 26, 1821   died May 13, 1893                      Margaret ... Feb 5, 1823    died Sep 4, 1859  ?                         Eliza J. ... Sep 7, 1827    married David Barker                        Mary A. ... Nov 15,1837    died 1885                        Samuel ... Mar 30. 1845   died May 8, 1900 William P.* married Sarah Hale Goodwin December 10, 1855 (Richardson and Goodwin join here) William Pettingill Richardson, son of William Messer Richardson, was a life-long resident of Londonderry, his life and death occurring in the same locality in which he lived and conducted his business. He learned the blacksmith's trade from his father and grandfather, and continued that occupation for many years. He was a skilled workman, and the plows, wagons, and sleighs manufactured by him commanded a ready sale.  (he was born in the little house south of the stone house; he built the stone house when he married; John Larkin built Herbert's house and lived there.  William bought it of him, but Visnor lived in it then; Florence and George Dickey later lived there.)  In 1863 he built a saw mill on the Little Cohas Brook, and engaged in lumbering.  For a few years he used the old fashioned up and down saw, but afterward refitted his mill with modern machinery.  In the saw mill and cider mill he did considerable business for several years until ill health compelled him to give up active work.  The cider mill was destroyed by fire three times, and each time rebuilt.  Finally both mills burned on October 26, 1893 and were a complete loss.  Mr. Richardson was a strong willed man, self-reliant and entergetic, honest and straight-forward in all business relations.  He was a self made man, having been obligated to get his education as best he could.  While still young, he undertook to relieve his parents of their burden of debt, and he not only accomplished this, but accumulated considerable property in town and Manchester during his lifetime.  Some of this went to his children, Sarah having a lot in Manchester, woodlots in Londonderry, and her mother's old homestead.  He was Justice of the Peace for 40 years.  A few years before his death, he purchased a piece of land; the lot he chose for his final resting place is marked by a handmade granite monument, situated near the old Hobbs place on upper Skim Mild Road.  (Family remains were moved to Sunnyside, and that family cemetery was done away with, about 1915. While driving home from Manchester one day in autumn of 1892, his carriage collided with another vehicle and he was thrown out, sustaining injuries from which he never recovered, and died May 13, 1893 Children:        Harry    ... Jul 14, 1857     died Jan 1892 (age 35)                      William*  ... Feb 26, 1860   died Jul 25, 1917                         Myron  ... Mar 21, 1864   died Jan 17, 1933                         Sarah  ... Apr 10, 1866   died Jun 9, 1937 William* (M.D.) married Esther Frances Whidden  August 23, 1884, the daughter of Joshua and Adeline B. Whidden, born Jan 1, 1860, died March 20, 1915 William Richardson M.D. was born at the old homestead February 26, 1860.  A beautiful stone house, two stories high, inside blinds, long ell and shed and large barn all connected; it burned January 1920; this was the birthplace of most of the family, including Roy Annis.  Dr. William was educated in the #7 school and at McGraw Normal Institute at Reed's Ferry.  Sarah told of the long drives from home to the river, and then being ferried across.  When about 20, he began to study medicine, and received his degree of M.D. from Dartmouth College in November 1883.  He married Esther F. Whidden of Auburn.  For a short period he practiced in the towns of Lowell, Mass., in Alexandria, Salisbury and Londonderry.  In June 1887 he located in Westford in the town of Ashford, Conn. and built up a successful practice.  On account of the serious illness of his father, he returned to Londonderry in 1892.  Children:  Florence Edna ... Mar 28, 1886  died May 21, 1925              stillborn daughter ... Jan 2, 1889   in Westford Conn.                       Mabel Edith ... Nov 21, 1891                  William Percey ... Nov 17, 1894   died Jul 3 1897 (3)                        Lester Earl* ... Sep 23, 1897 Lester married Ruby Annis Lester Richardson retained the Londonderry home after his marriage, and after the fire, he built a small place on the original cellar hole.  This building he moved when Grenier Air Force Base leased his farm.  The little old family house was torn down at this time. Ruby Annis January 1, 1919, the daughter of Leon and Mary Goding Annis and was born in Suncook, N.H.  1899   Children: William Leo*  Apr 5, 1922 (navy WW2) died Nov 1977   Lester Earl Jr.  ... Apr 12, 1924 (navy WW2 and Korea) (UNH '54)                  Harry ... Apr 6, 1927 (navy WW2) Lester, William, and Harry Richardson William*(my dad) married Doris Elinore Joslyn (my mom) January 24, 1948  Mom was the daughter of Howard Tansley Joslyn (1902-1981), a Baptist minister and a (high ranking) member of the Masonic Lodge.  He was a well respected community leader in New England.  My grandfather was interested in having my father become a member of the Masonic Lodge, but he chose not to, and instead went "out west" for opportunity in the aerospace industry.  He got a job at Boeing in Seattle, Washington as a machinist.  When I was very young my dad went to barber school, and most of his working years were going from the one profession to the other.  He enjoyed being a barber, but there was more money in being a machinist. Children:  Gregory Howard   The middle name (Howard) was, of                                                   course, after my mom's father.   The                                                  first name (Gregory) was after one of                                                  my mom's favorite actors, Gregory                                                  Peck.                    William Gary        The first name is a Richardson family                                                   name. There is a William Richardson                                                   in almost every generation.  This                                                   would make my brother William                                                   Richardson the ninth. The middle                                                   name was after another one of my                                                   mom's favorite actors, Gary Cooper.                    Stephen Lester    The middle name was after may dad's                                                   father.   I am uncertain where the                                                   name Stephen is from (other than it                                                   was just a name that my mom liked).                    Ricky Brian*       My first name comes from another                                                   media star.  This time it was a little                                                   boy.  The youngest son of Ozzie and                                                   Harriett Nelson ... Ricky.    I am not                                                   sure what my middle name is from                                                   (other than it seemed to sound good                                                   with my first name), although when I                                                   was in my earlier grade school days I                                                   used to be insistent that the spelling                                                   of my name was B-R-A-I-N.  I                                                   remember a teacher correcting me                                                   on it's spelling.  I thought she was                                                   crazy.  Didn't she think that I knew                                                   how to spell my own name!  When I                                                   was a little older my brother, Steve                                                   would call me "Ricko".  When I                                                   began my radio career I just used my                                                   first and middle name ... "Ricko"                                                   Brian (I just changed the spelling to                                                   Rick O'Brien)                     Lori Anne                                                   Lori is not only my sister, she is one of my best friends.                     Sandra Jo                     Donna Dee To my knowledge most of the name selections, other than William and Lester, were my mom's choices. Ricky Brian married Susan Dawn Emehiser July 12 1981     I met Susan at "The Feast of Tabernacles" in Spokane, Washington in 1980.  I was feeling a bit depressed because many of the people that I had expected to be there, were not (including a couple of pretty girls from the tri-cities).  Then, I saw Susan across the Spokane Arena (where we were meeting) talking to someone that I knew (Greg Dourghty).  Although I didn't know Greg all that well, I decided to go over and say hello, just to find out who this girl was that he was talking to. Susan and I spent quite a bit of time together that week, and had weekly phone calls from then (the end of September) till Thanksgiving, when she came over to my folks house in Auburn, Washington.  When I picked her up from the airport, I gave her a bunch of flowers (held together with a diamond ring)  When she noticed the ring I also gave her two buttons.  One said "Go fly a kite" and the other said "yes yes yes" all over it.  I told her that she could pick which ever button she wanted. at the Spokane '80 Feast of Tabernacles Barbecue That night we discussed a lot of things, including deciding the names of our two (to be) children. Children:   William Bryan and Jessica Dawn     William Bryan married Tara Jergens  March 28, 2009 Children:  Nevaeh   born Feb 28, 2009 Jessica Dawn married Richard Lee Strand  June 8, 2008 Children:  Celeste (father is John Heinzlmeir) born Oct 17, 2004                   Skyler    born Sep 4, 2007 ....... My Dad   I didn't get to know my dad.   My dad died when I was 22, (he was 55) and I was too busy trying to figure out who I was to learn things about him.   He was writing a book sometime around then, but I don't exactly know what the book was about, or if he ever even completed it ... and if he did, what happened to it.   I believe it was a western fiction, although I am not sure.  He was an inventor.  He had an invention for cars called "light-guard" a device that made your horn honk if you left your car lights on.  This was before cars had buzzers that would let you know that your headlights were on. I am not sure why he never considered a little buzzer as the warning device. It would have been a much better product (as it became popularized as). He was always thinking of new concepts and inventions. He was a funny guy, although I didn't realize how funny he was till shortly before he died, when I began to appreciate his sense of humor. He was also always looking for a good business to start, and had an independent spirit with a desire to do things for himself.  He believed that if you wanted to do something, you simply needed to move forward, find out everything you could about your goal and make it happen. If I could go back in time, I would listen more, ask more questions, and appreciate more. My Mom Mom (and me) I asked my mom what I was like as a child.  She told me that she didn't remember.   I was the fourth of seven kids, and there was always something happening around the house.   I was a fairly easy child to take care of, (and was seldom in trouble), so there were few dramatic events.    I guess my memories of my mom are pretty similar.  With three older brothers and three younger sisters, I think I took for granted how much my mom would do.  I assumed that everybody had a mom that could do everything that my mom did.  We were always on time to everything.  In fact we were usually early.  I am amazed at how my parents (especially my mom) was able to get all seven kids ready for everything.  Although we may have arrived late to an activity, I don't remember this happening ... EVER. When I was very young, my mom seemed older than she was.  As long as I can remember, my mom had false teeth, wore hearing aids, and had arthritis in her hands.   However, she was just 28 years old when I was born. She lost some of her hearing when shed had scarlet fever as a child. Grandparents Since all of our relatives (from both my father's and mother's families) were from the east coast, I didn't really know my grandparents.  The few brief times that I did spend with them does not leave a lot to remember. Grandpa Richardson I remember my Grandpa Richardson as a miserable old man, that talked gruffly (I was never able to understand what he was saying the few times he did say anything to us), he never smiled and smoked cigarettes. Grandma Richardson I never knew my Grandma Richardson (Ruby [Annis] Richardson).  Although she was still alive till I was in high school, she never left the asylum that she had been put into when my father was young.   My mother says that after she had her first child (my brother, Gregory) she secretly went, with her child, to the asylum/hospital to visit my grandmother.  However, she was told that there was no visiting that day, and she never got the courage to visit again.  I am unsure as to why she was originally admitted. However, the partial story that I had heard is that my grandfather was abusive and at one point she pulled a knife (probably in defense).  I don't know whether the story is true. When I was in high school a letter came addressed to my dad (although it said "Billy" and not "William").   It was a birthday note from his mother.  A one dollar bill was included.   My father never talked about his mother. Grandpa Joslyn My Grampa Joslyn was quite different than my grandpa Richardson.  Grandpa Joslyn had a refined quality.  He was proper and respected.  He, however, was not a grandpa that would roll around with you on the floor and play kid games. Grandma Joslyn My mother's mom died when my mom's youngest sister (Faith) was born, so I never knew her.  My grandfather remarried however, and my "Grandma Joslyn" was much like my Grandpa Joslyn ... a very proper couple.  Early Memories We were getting popsicles.  That's my first memory. My mom had gone to the hospital, to deliver what would be the first of my three younger sisters, and my brothers and I were getting popsicles that my mom had prepared for this occasion.  I was three years old. I have one other memory of that time.   I was sitting in a large galvanized tub on the outside of the house on 14th street.  It was next to the pair trees.  I was quite small because I fit nicely into the tub.  It was like my own personal swimming pool.   Steve, Gregory, Gary and me in our front yard on 14th Street (our next-door-neighbor's house is in the background) The Club We all gathered on the back porch. My three bothers Greg, Gary and Steve along with our neighbors (Little Guy and Snooky) and me. It seemed like the logical place to meet. After all we were the ones that had the jumbo bag of dry dog food. Crunch crunch. It was our after school snack we could eat by the handfuls. Gregory I never really knew my older brother, Greg, when I was little.   He didn't talk to me, and he seemed mean.   I was shocked one day when he offered me part of the candy bar that he was eating.   As we have grown up we have also grown closer (he doesn't seem mean any more).   Gary My brother Gary always had an answer for everything. They were seldom true, but they always sounded like they were. One day our neighbors (Little Guy and Snooky) came over and Snooky had a discovery to relay. He said “You can melt anything”. I had never considered this before, but either Little Guy or Steve spoke up and said “You can't melt wood”. As I was beginning to think of things that maybe could or could not be melted, my brother Gary said, “Oh yes, you can melt wood in a double boiler”. So that settled it. There were things that may seem like they would not melt, but if put into a double boiler it would indeed melt. We did not know what a double boiler was, we just knew what Gary had told us.   Fourteenth Street I was born at the ideal address ... 258 14th Street.  The numbers didn't mean anything, but the location was perfect. It was at the end of 14th Street.   To the front of the house was the park, to the side of the house was the woods, and in back of the house was the big field (that had the big "sand pile" in it).  We had a big plumb tree and a couple of small pear trees on the side of the house, and an apple tree out back, along with a stump that I was told use to be a peach tree.   Across the ally were concord grapes and blackberries. The house had three small bed rooms.  When we grew too many for the house, my dad built a "bunkhouse" for the boys.  We had chickens for a period of time (behind the bunkhouse) and we had two cats and a dog.  The dog was named Teddy and he was kept chained up out back. The boys would spend all day playing outside in the woods, the field, or the park.  Our world was all quite close to the house, but it seemed like a vast area at the time. Second Grade Art When I was in the second grade, I drew pictures of some of America's founding fathers.  If I remember correctly it was George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and one other.  They were free-hand drawings that did, from looking at some books that we had at home.  I brought them to school to show my teacher.  She commented on how good she thought they were, and asked me about how I had drawn them.  She then asked me if she could show them to some other people.  I told her that she could.  A few days latter she told me that the principal had asked if he could show them to other principals.  I said he could.  I am not sure exactly who he showed them to, or what ever happened to them.  They were never returned. The "Penny" Circus One summer my brothers decided to put on a "Penny Circus" they had various prizes, games, and rides, including wheel barrow rides, where they would push you around the entire side and back yard in a wheel barrow and a slip and slide (water on a plastic tarp).  It was a big success with all the neighborhood kids. The Shiny Pennies are Better I think my mom had all gotten us piggy banks when we were young to teach us the value of saving money.  I was about seven years old when I came up with a great business idea.  My sister (Lori) had a bank filled with pennies.  She was only three and didn't understand the value of money, and how it is the number of pennies you had that was important.  For her the pennies THEMSELVES was the important thing.  She liked shiny pennies.  I made a trade with her.  I would give her one new shiny penny for every two dull and dirty pennies that she gave me.  What was even neater is that one of my brothers showed me how to clean dirty pennies in vinegar to make them shiny and new again.  I was able to trade my sister one shiny penny for two dirty pennies, then clean the dirty pennies and trade THEM as shiny pennies, doubling my money again!  At this rate I was sure I would be a millionaire before the age of 10.  That is, until one of my brothers found out what I was doing and told our mom.  I honestly didn't see the problem, but my mom said that I was taking advantage of someone who didn't know any better and I would have to pay back all the money that I had made in our trades.    Tin Cans My brother Gary had a tin can collection under his bed.   Every now and then he would pull some out and use them for something.   You could attach strings and use them as stilts, or punch wholes in then and use them as a blackberry press. You never can tell when you're going to need a good tin can. Bible Camp Snacks and the Bee Hive It must have been Gary that came up with the idea.  They told me that they had done it before, and it worked well.  The Church down the road was having Bible Camp in the summer and at snack time they would go outside to the back of the church, where there were tables of cookies and juice.  The church was just on the other side of the woods near our house.  I was told that if I put my nice clothes on, I would be able to walk right up to one of the tables and fill a plate with cookies, and then just slip back into the woods with a full plate of snacks.  There were only about 15 or 20 kids in the class, but for some reason my brothers convinced me that no one would notice that I wasn't part of the class.   So I dressed up in my good clothes (as instructed) and was waiting at the end of the woods, ready to stroll up to the table filled with cookies.   All at once, however, there was a bunch of buzzing all around me.  I was standing over a log containing a bee hive.  I began to scream and ran all the way home, getting stung several times in the process.  I believe I got in trouble for playing in the woods while wearing my good clothes.  The free snack plan was abandoned after that attempt. Evan My older brothers had a friend named Evan.  He was a real live Eddie Haskel (from the leave it to Beaver TV show).   He would come over and act real polite,  "Hello Mrs. Richardson" he would say ... and you could just sense a certain amount of deviance in him.  One day he had come over to our house and began to show me some neat colored pencils.   He was willing to sell them to me for the exact amount of money that I had in my penny bank.   It seemed like a "good deal", he told me how much I would pay for them if I bought them new at the store.  So, I purchased them.  Evan thanked me for my business and promptly remembered he had to be home for something.  Just after Evan left my brother Gary came into the room, and asked me what I was doing with the pencil set that he just bought.  As you can imagine we were both upset.  I just spent all my money to buy a pencil set that my brother was telling me I couldn't have.  My parents tried to litigate the situation, but as I remember, I did not end up with a favorable outcome. The New Dog Our dog, Teddy, died one night without warning.  He seemed fine the night before, but he was dead in the morning.  My dad thought that he may have been poisoned, although there was no evidence of this.   After Teddy died my dad brought home a new dog, because everyone was sad about not having Teddy around any more.  This dog, however, was quite different than the big dog (Teddy) that had been in our back yard.  This was a Mexican Chihuahua; a nervous frightened little dog with a continual annoying bark.  After a day or two, the little dog was gone.  No one was sad about it. "Bill, They're Negros" I was born in 1955, and there were not very many black people in Seattle at the time.  In fact I had never seen a black person until I was about five years old. I think there were only a couple of black families living in Auburn (the town that I grew up in) through the 1970's.  We were not racists, we just never met anyone who was black.  One Christmas around 1950 my parents responded to a request to open our home to a couple of soldiers stationed at Fort Lewis (who were away from their families for Christmas).  We were waiting by the window to get the first glimpse of our guests, when a car pulled up and out stepped two young men.  "Bill, They're Negros." my mom said.  Although that may sound a bit strange today, that was not an improper thing to say at the time.  It wasn't until the 60's the terms "Blacks" and "African Americans" were created.  Since the Black population in the Seattle area was so small, it was a very unusual site.  My parents invited them in and they shared Christmas dinner with us.  I had a very positive impression of Black people.  These guys were soldiers, and soldiers were heros, and these soldiers were also black. My next encounter with a black person was a few years latter.  We had begun to attend the Radio Church of God in Seattle, and one day when we were leaving my dad had forgotten to put the briefcase (that was filled with Bibles and notebooks) into the station wagon.  He had left it on the back bumper.  We drove off and didn't realize the briefcase was missing until we got home.  A couple of days latter, we got a call from someone who had found the briefcase, and my folks arranged to pick it up.  The man who found the briefcase was black.  Although he didn't want any money for returning "what was yours" my mom wishes she would have given him one of the Bibles.  He had commented on nice they were.   Early Music For a period of time we had an old "Victrolla" (in the bunkhouse on 14th Street) with some 78rpm record "albums".  They were actual albums with 5 or 6 sleeves of 78rpm records.   Some of my favorites song were from the Ink Spots and the Mills Brothers (black vocal groups from the 40s and 50s).  My mom and dad had quite a few records that we would listen to and sing along with, learning the various vocal parts.  My brother Gary would learn the harmonies and teach us the parts.  When we would "practice" the song, Gary would make sure that we were on our note by whacking us in the chest every time we were off.   Years later, when I was in high school, my music teacher asked me why I flinched every time I was off my note. When I was in the second grade, music changed.  It was 1964 and The Beatles released their first American single, "I Want To Hold Your Hand".  Their style was like nothing we had heard before.  We would listen to the radio, every chance we had, to hear a Beatles song.   We couldn't hear enough.  It seemed like there HAD to be a Beatles song playing every few songs.  There was really no music on FM back then, and the AM stations that played top 40 music had fairly low power and plenty of static.  Many times we had to listen hard to even hear what the song being played was.   When KOL started playing top 40 (rivaling KJR) we would switch back and forth till we heard a Beatles song being played.    It was sometime after the Beatles had a number of hits, I remember being over at a neighbors house.   There were a couple of girls (with old fashion names) that lived down the street.   They had a empty garage (Their dad probably had the car at work).  I remember going over to their house and singing Beatles songs in their garage (because of it's acoustics).  We used brooms, pretending that they were microphones.   Within a very short amount of time, several other British groups released records in the US.  It was called the British invasion.   Between the Beatles and the other British groups, along with the Beach Boys, there were plenty of songs to learn and sing. My first performance in front of an audience, was for a talent show at a Church Picnic (I was ten years old).  The four boys sang "I am Henry the Eighth I am". It was a Herman's Hermits song (1965).   My two older older brothers (Greg and Gary) sang the song and my brother Steve and I would pop up at the appropriate times and yell "Hen-er-y" and "No Sam".  It was the Richardson boys signature song until "Sentimental Journey" took that over. The Last Christmas “Look what Santa Clause brought me!” said Lori. She held out her new dolly, showing to our guest. There was an awkward pause, as the man looked at my father and said, “You know that we don't observe Christmas don't you?” My dad nodded his head and said, “Yes, this would be the last time.” I suspect that this was the most that my parents had spent on Christmas. My brother Steve was also proud of his gift; a large cardboard space capsule, (with all of the controls printed on it's paper covering) that you could sit in … just like real astronauts. I got “Lincoln Logs”. It was indeed the last Christmas that I ever celebrated. Gregory, Gary, Steve me and Lori I was seven years old. It was the beginning of 1963, and we were about to join a church that celebrated the “Jewish” holidays, although still holding a lot of Christian beliefs. Known, at that time, as the “Radio Church of God” the church observed a Saturday Sabbath from Friday sundown till Saturday sundown. We didn't eat pork or shellfish, and we were non-Trinitarian. So, I grew up a bit different from most other kids.  When the rest of the class was having holiday parties I would be excused to the library, and when the Jewish holidays came, I would request to have the days off (usually as an unexcused absence, not recognized as a legitimate reason to be absent from school). I remember when I was in the seventh grade my brother (Steve) and I where sent to the vice principal's office for bringing a request into the attendance office, asking for two weeks off in order to attend "The Feast of Tabernacles".  We each had our note that read something like :   "Please excuse Ricky from Monday Oct 16th through Friday Oct 27th, to attend a religious convention".  The vice principal treated us like we had done something wrong, and told us that our request would not be approved.  We were already quite self-conscious about being different from everyone else, and being grilled about our beliefs made us all the more uncomfortable.   We were, after all, just kids.   I had a music class that I had all "A"s in.  However, because I had taken two weeks off to attend a religious festival, I received an "F" on my quarter report card.  The reason given (on the report card) for the grade was unsatisfactory attendance.  Those two weeks were the only days that I had missed that quarter.   I continued to get "A"s in the class, so I was able to pull my semester grade up to a "C".  I had a friend who was in the same class.  He also was gone for two weeks.   However, he was on a hunting trip and that was considered to be an excused absence and mine (for a religious observance) was not.  He got a "B" on his report card (his grades were not usually as high as mine). This intolerance of religious differences would not be legal today.  In the 60's, however, there was much less acceptance of different religious beliefs. Prayer Our parents taught us that it was good to pray to God.  Exactly WHAT we prayed, however, was up to us.  They never listened in or anything.  When I was very young, I prayed that I would be Superman.  It seemed like a reasonable request at the time, (just think how surprised all the people who picked on me would be) although it was a request that was never granted. When I was in junior high or high school, I heard a sermon about how God was pleased when Solomon didn't ask for riches, but asked for wisdom.  I figured that asking for wisdom would be a good thing for me to ask for too.  So, every night I asked God to give me wisdom.  My requests went on for months and months.  However, instead of getting "smarter", it seemed that I was getting "dumber".  The more that I prayed for wisdom, the more difficulty I seemed to encounter.  At some point someone explained to me that wisdom comes from being challenged and going through various experiences.  I then realized that God was giving me exactly what I had asked for.   I stopped praying for wisdom. For me, in order to keep my mind focused, I find it best to do something as I pray.  Driving a car or going for a walk work well.  Or even a monotonous non-challenging job is a good environment for prayer. Sex I had no idea about what sex was, before the sixth grade.  Although I knew that boys and girls looked different, I didn't think that there was any practical reason for it.    I remember one time when we were on vacation, visiting our aunt and uncle in New Hampshire.  I was probably about five or six years old.   My cousin Kay and I were in our bathing suits (after running through the sprinkler).  Kay thought that it would be interesting if we took a peek at each others equipment.  She said, "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours".  It seemed like a fair trade to me, so we went into a room.  I don't remember what the room was, however, I do remember that it had a hook-in-eye lock.  Kay had climbed up on something to lock the door, but before we had time to exchange looks, Uncle Stoney was knocking on the door.  He seemed upset about something and hit the door real hard, breaking the hook-in-eye lock from the door.  I don't remember much of the aftermath or any following discussion.  I just remember that it was a scary experience when it happened. It didn't seem like we were being "nasty" at the time.  However, I was unsure what being "nasty" was exactly.  Just a few months early than this incident, My friend Snooky and I were playing in our yard, and he told me that he could not poop under the work bench any more.  My dad had an old "work bench" on the side of the house.   He hadn't used it in a while, and the grass was growing up around it.  It seemed like a good place to poop.  I'm not sure why.  We had done it a time or two before, but this day Snooky said he could not poop under the work bench because it was "nasty".  I took his word for it, we never pooped there again. In sixth grade we had a Sex Ed class.  There was one kid in the class that seemed to know things that most of the rest of the class didn't have the slightest hint about.  I didn't quite understand everything that they were telling us, and other things we would not have believed, had our teacher not been the one presenting the information.  We learned that babies come from a sperm and an egg, and the sperm comes from a boy (from where he pees).  After class I remember going to the rest room.  Drew Merry and I were standing at the urinals, looking down and saying "goodbye sperms". There was a level of innocence that would be hard to maintain in today's society, but it made life much simpler. Moving We moved from 14th Street just after my youngest sister Donna was born. That made seven kids.  Donna was born at home.  I remember being outside of my parents bedroom window and seeing my sister being held up and hearing her first cries.  I guess my folks thought the house was too small for the size of our family.  I don't think the house that we moved to had any more rooms in it, but as I recall the rooms were all bigger than the house on 14th Street.  I had just started third grade. First Street When I was in the third and fourth grades we lived on first street.  While we were there my mom won two drawings.   In one drawing she won a living room set.  A couch and at least one chair.  Having a brand new living room set was quite a big deal for our family.   The next winning was less practical.  She won a Shetland pony. We had a field just beyond our back yard, so we kept the horse there. We named him Mr. Ed (after the famous TV horse). We rented our house from the people who lived next door (on the right side of our house).  They had two sons: Terry and Tony.  As I remember, they were both "trouble makers". While in the third grade we had one of our biggest earthquakes in the Seattle area.  It happened in the morning while we were waiting for the bus.  I didn't really know what was happening at first but I was seeing the ground move as I saw ripples in the mud puddle that I was straddling near.  When we got to school, we were unable to use our classroom. It was an old brick building (Washington Elementary) and I think they may have had safety concerns, besides, a lot of plaster had come down and made a bit of a mess.  Our class met in the library for a few days. For fourth grade we were transferred to North Auburn Elementary. I remember having dreams that year of arriving to school and realizing that I had forgotten to put on an article of clothing.   I was very embarrassed in my dream.   I am not sure why but it was a reoccurring dream (usually I would forget a shirt but a couple of times it was another article of clothing).  I began to like disguises.  I wore a string tie to school and I had a small piece of fur that I would pretend was a mustache.  On my 4th grade report card Mr. Tossy wrote:  "Ricky enjoys making others laugh at the wrong times". Swimming Lessons I am not sure why, but my folks thought it was a good idea for us to have swimming lessons.   We didn't live by any water and rarely went to the lake, but we took swimming lessons at Steel Lake a summer of two.  I remember the first year, we started by putting our face in the water and "blowing bubbles".  We later advanced to holding our breath underwater and doing the dog paddle.  A few years later we were able to take swimming lessons at the YMCA.  The "Y" had a bit more advanced program and we learned the crawl and how to tread water.  The boys did janitorial work at the "Y" for a family membership.  At some point during our morning, we found the opportunity to sing "in the showers".  They had a shower room (for both boys and girls) and the acoustics were good for a-cappella songs with three part harmonies. Steve's Buried Treasure My family was on our way back home from some place in eastern Washington.  We stopped at Moses Lake for a picnic lunch.   While we were there the boys went down to a beach area and began to make sand castles.  Someone came up with the idea of putting a "buried treasure" in one of the castles.  My brother Steve looked around for a treasure and then came up with the idea of using his glasses.  We were several miles away when Steve remembered that his glasses were left in one of the sand castles.   When we arrived back at the lake we were unable to locate the sand castle (let alone the glasses), and Steve had to have his glasses replaced. They're Unbreakable! Don't believe everything that you're told.   The optometrist had called The glasses "unbreakable".  So either Greg or Gary decided to show them off.  "Look", he said "these are UNBREAKABLE!" He dropped them to the ground from as high as he could reach.  As it turned out the "unbreakable" glasses were indeed breakable as my brothers demonstrated.  The Trailer and the Barn When I was in the fifth grade My dad bought an 8'x36' mobile home. He had also purchased an acre and a half of land on "Cemetery Hill" that had a barn on it.  He created a large opening in the center of the barn, and backed the trailer into it.   we moved into the mobile home, and used the barn as a storage unit for all of our belongings.  We also made a place for Mr. Ed.   I believe we had some type of lean-to with an electric fence around the area on the west side of the barn.   I learned never to pee on an electric fence, as the electricity follows up the stream of liquid resulting in a certain degree of unpleasantness. I began fifth grade at Terminal Park Elementary again.  I remember that there were a couple of "cool kids" that wore all black.  Black shirts, pants, and shoes (Beatle Boats). I was the youngest of four boys.  I got lots of hand-me-downs.  But, all in all, it was good to be back at my old school, however, I was in Mrs. Franklin's class.  At least one of my brother's had Mrs. Franklin for a teacher, and my parents were not happy with her.   The kids at school called her Mrs. Franlinstein.  I think my parents wanted to get me into another class, but I think the school was reluctant to change classes.  I believe it was easier to transfer me to a different school, so that is what they did.  I was soon back at Washington Elementary (in Mr. Monroe's class). My first business enterprise was selling frogs.  back behind the barn there was some swampy area were I could easily catch frogs.  I took them to school and sold them for 25 cents each.   I sold three or four of them before I was told NOT to bring frogs to school again. When I was in the 5th grade I was interested in secret agents.  So I started my own secret organization called S.O.U.N.D. (Secret Organization for United Nations Defense)  I made up an emblem and some I.D. cards and got a couple of my friends to join. After a few months, of living in our trailer (in the barn), The county told my dad that he would have to move the trailer to a mobile home park.  So he had the trailer moved to a mobile home park next to the Stuck River and the rail road tracks. The Trailer So in the summer before I started the 6th grade we moved ... all nine of us ... into an 8' x 36' mobile home.   My parents had the small bedroom in the back of the trailer, my three sisters had a unique configuration of beds in the "bedroom" between the kitchen and bathroom, and the four boys were in the storage shed behind the carport. Frank Zappa ... "Ricky, go to sleep!" I was the recipient of many pranks (being the youngest of the four boys). When we lived in the trailer, the boy's room was the little storage area behind the carport.  Next to our room was a small room for the electric meter.  One night my brother Gary set up a reel to reel tape recorder in the small "meter room" next to the "boys room".  It was the 60s and My brother had acquired a tape of Frank Zappa's "Mothers of Invention" psychedelic music.  It was very strange sounding (to a sixth grader like me).  I asked "What's that?"  My brothers acted as if they didn't hear anything.  "What's what?" they responded.   "That sound".  "What sound? ... Ricky, go to sleep."   The continued to tell me that they couldn't hear anything, as the strange sounds continued to play.  Finally when they realized that I was beginning to panic (and that the neighbors were coming out of their homes and looking around) they went into the "meter room" and stopped the tape.    Frogs from outer space We had a pond near the river (not far from the trailer) that was filled with frogs.  One night my brothers told me that they had found a flying saucer.  They told me that they would take me to it, but I had to be blindfolded.  So, they blindfolded me and took me down to the pond.  It is surprising how much a pond (at night full of croaking frogs) sounds like a flying saucer.  When we believe that we are going to hear something, then that is what we hear.  Our view of reality (or in this case the sound of reality) is based upon what our beliefs are, going into our experiences.  So much so, that a pond of croaking frogs becomes the electronic workings of an alien space craft, if that is what we believe that we are hearing.  The Front Yard Crash One night a man that had been drinking drove off the road.  His car flew off the bank and into our front yard.  My parent were off someplace for the night.  We were in our small living room huddled around the TV when we saw the headlights and heard the CRASH!  I think one of my brothers went running out to see what had happened.  A man got out of the car.  It was hard to tell if he was hurt, and he seemed confused.  One of my brothers invited him in (so he could use the phone).  He wasn't sure who to call.  Someone suggested that he call 911.  He said, "Yeah, that's a good idea ... What's the number". Trestle Climbing The trailer park was right next to two bridges that crossed the Stuck River, one was for cars, and the other was a train trestle.   We discovered that if we went underneath the bridge that we could climb up inside of the trestle to a point above the trains as they went over.   Even though we were safely enclosed behind the criss-cross medal slats, the train seemed like it was going to run right into us as it went by.  And the entire trestle would shake.  It was better that a circus ride.   Flat Pennies If you take a penny and put it on the rail road tracks, when you come back (after the train has gone by) it has become an oblong piece of shiny copper.  My "Sick" Year In the winter (when the weather would get too cold to be out in the storage shed) the boys would come inside and sleep in the living room.  With all nine of us living in a space that was 8'x36', it was the most unhealthy year of my life.  I missed a lot of school due to illness (scabies, impetigo, and a few others), and I had to recover from one of my illnesses at a family friend's house.  My body was not getting enough oxygen in the trailer and I was too weak to stand up (I had to be carried to the bathroom). Wetting the Bed I wet the bed till I was in the 6th grade.  My dad thought that I was "lazy", but my mom also wet the bed when she was young.  I just didn't wake up.  Sometimes I would dream that I was getting up and going into the bathroom.  Other times I just woke up after I had a big wet spot on the bed.  It was difficult and embarrassing.  It was a secret that I hoped no one would ever know. What Noise? The pastor of our church came to visit us one day. We were also present and presentable in our small mobile home.  I believe that he was assessing how we were doing and seeing if he (or the church) could help us.  While he was visiting us a freight train went by (as they often would)  He raised his voice as the train rolled by, shaking the entire trailer.   "How can you stand that noise?" he asked.  "What noise?" someone answered.  We were so use to the trains rolling by several times a day, that we had become accustom to them.  It was normal.  Not long after that visit one of the church groups (the Spokesmen Club) had a "work party" to help us move into our barn. The Barn When I started Junior High my family moved into “the barn”. Men from the "Spokesmen Club" had come over on a Sunday afternoon, donating time and materials to make the barn into our new home. It was also during this time that my brothers began to take night walks.  Sometimes it was a long walk that was miles in each direction. Other times it was a quick trip to the cemetery (just a couple of blocks away). It was on those short cemetery walks that we "ran from the law".   Apparently there had been people who had vandalized the cemetery in the past, so there were frequent police patrols.   The game was to allow the police to see you, and then start running so they would chase you.  You would then hide somewhere that you wouldn't be found.  We always hid well, and the never found us.  Although many times their search lights would pass over us as we hid ourselves in the woods or the gully.  Your heart would be beating so hard that you were sure that you could hear it.  After the police drove away we would take the back road home, with our excitement and trills for the night complete. We lived there for a year or two.   We had an double-seat out-house (no indoor toilet) and a big pot-belly stove in the living room for heat.  We used coal in the pot belly stove that my dad would drive to Black Diamond (a town about fifteen miles away) to get a pick up truck full. We had a sink in the kitchen with cold water.  We never did have a hot water tank in the barn (although I'm not sure why).  The four boys cleaned the Auburn YMCA every Sunday morning.  THAT earned us a family membership, with which we were able to go to the "public swim" session every Friday so we could take our weekly showers (before Sabbath).  There was a ladder going up to the loft where the boys slept.  Most of the barn had cardboard on the inside wood walls (for insulation).  However, there was no cardboard on the loft walls, so the space between the boards allowed wind and occasionally rain and snow to come through. My mom would send us to bed with big river rocks (the Flintstone's version of an electric blanket). She would heat the rocks up in the kitchen (propane) stove, then wrap them with several layers of newspaper.  As the rock cooled down, we would take one layer after another of newspaper. When morning came, there was a bunch of crumpled newspaper on the bedroom floor and a cold river rock at the foot of our bed. That winter we had a severe snow storm (three foot drifts).   It was a chilly experience to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom (out-house).  We would step out of the kitchen door (usually in our bare feet) and dash through the snow to the out house.  There were always matches in the out-house for you to light at the end of use to take away some of the smell.  However, my brother, Gary, would take a handful of toilet paper and light it on fire, then throw it in one of the holes (it was a double seat-er) to have warm air rise from below.  The out house had a regular size toilet seat and a smaller hole, so the little girls wouldn't fall in while using it. I am not sure why we didn't have much insulation (cardboard) up stairs in the loft area.  Most of the barn, downstairs, had cardboard on the walls; but not up in the boys room.   At times when we went to bed the wind would blow through the spaces between the boards, and when it snowed we would get snow blowing in through the spaces.  There were times when you would go asleep with your blanket over your head, and wake up with a little layer of snow on top of your blankets. When we would burn coal in the pot belly stove it would get extremely hot.  So hot that it would glow red and it seemed that you could see right through the metal.   The boys had the job of going out to the coal bin (this structure that my dad had built) to get a couple buckets of coal.  One day my brother Steve and I were arguing about something (I don't remember what), and I got so mad at him, as he walked back to the barn's kitchen door, that I though a chunk of coal at him.   I was never a good shot.  I was the kid that was picked last, when picking sides for baseball.  So you can understand my shock when the chunk of coal actually hit him square in the back of the head.   I couldn't imagine that I had actually hit him.   However, try telling your folks that you didn't mean to hit him.  "You threw a chunk of coal at your brother, but didn't mean to hit him?"  It sounds odd but it was the truth. I could never hit anything I was throwing at.  I was just throwing the coal because I was mad.  I never dreamed that I could have thrown at something, and actually hit it (or him, as the case may be).  Late Night TV My brother Gary discovered a neat trick that winter.  When ever we wanted to watch something on TV (our parents were fairly strict about not staying up on school nights to watch TV) he would go around the house and start turning off lights.  The girls had to go to bed around 7:00 anyway, so that's when the darkening of the house would begin.  The boys would go up to the loft, turn off the lights and be real quiet.  By eight o'clock, since all the kids seemed to be in bed, my parents would go off to bed.  We would wait till we could hear my dad snoring.  If we kept the volume low on the TV, my dad would sleep through it and my mom was hard of hearing so she wouldn't hear it even if she was awake.  My brother also adjusted the brightness setting so it didn't give off that TV glow so much.  On occasion one of my parents would wake up to go to the bathroom (out-house) and we were not able to turn the TV off quick enough.  At least half of the time, I would fall asleep while we were waiting for our parents to fall asleep, and miss all the TV watching that night. Lori and the Bee My sister, Lori, carried a penny bank in her purse It was made of very thick glass.  One day when we were in the van (going somewhere) a bee came into the vehicle.  Lori screamed "Oh! a bee!" and WHACK! she flung her purse against the one of the van's glass windows ... breaking the window.    (she missed the bee) Lori's Hairdo Once while we were riding in the car, on our way to the feast, I think it was Gary who came up with the idea of "playing a trick" on Lori while she was sleeping.  We ratted her hair with a hair brush from the "bathroom bag" and made it stick way out.  We then found some hair spray and sprayed the new due.  I don't think that we thought that she would sleep through the whole adventure in hair styling, but she did.  When it came time to stop at a restaurant for dinner, however, she soon realized that something was different with her hair and began to fuss ... loud.   We were in trouble and it took my mom a long time to get all the tangles out. Shot Gun When we lived in the barn my brother Gary decided to see what would happen if he surprised an unsuspecting bicycle rider.   We had a window on the front of the barn, directly across from a door that looked out to the back acre.    My father had a shotgun that Gary had found some shells to.   He waited till he could see the cyclist appear in the front window, and then BAMM! ... he fired the shotgun out the back door.   The boy on the bicycle was so surprised he fell over.  We hid.  Laddy and Lady I am not sure exactly when we got Laddy.  He was a collie mix.  He would run along with me when I would ride around on my black Shwin bicycle.  He also liked going to the cemetery to catch birds.  When the family would take off (in our old volkswagon van), he would run along side of the van for a block or so before returning home.  One day when we got home Laddy was gone.  In was not unusual for him to be gone for a day or two, so we thought nothing of it.  a couple of days, however, turned into a couple of weeks ... and still no Laddy.   After a while my dad decided we should get another dog.  Since we all liked Laddy, we got another collie (this time a female dog) and named her Lady.   We all liked Lady.  She stayed around the barn better than Laddy did.   I was beginning to forget exactly what Laddy looked like.   One day while we were on our way to the YMCA, for our weekly shower and swim, a dog started running along side of the van just like Laddy use to do.  The dog was a collie, but for some reason he looked different than what I remembered Laddy looking like.  My dad was certain, however, that this was Laddy, our lost dog.  He pulled over to the side of the road as the dog came running up.  Everyone jumped out of the van yelling "Laddy ... Laddy!"  The dog was jumping up and down as a boy on a bicycle came riding up behind him.   My dad asked him if it was his dog.  The boy said that the dog showed up about a month ago and he has been taking care of him ever since.  He said the dog didn't have a collar so he didn't know who to call.  My dad told the boy that this was "Laddy".  The boy said "I was just calling him "Boy".  It all seemed a bit awkward.   Laddy had disappeared (long enough for me to forget what he looked like) and we were now reunited, although we had replaced Laddy with a new dog.  What would happen now?  Would the boy keep Laddy, or would we?   After all, this boy only had this one dog, and it appeared that he had grown attached to him.  The questions rushed through my head, but no one seemed to ask them.   Laddy was the one who decided.  He was happy to see us (jumping up and down and licking everyone) and paid no attention to his recent caretaker.  Laddy jumped into the van and I believe that my dad gave the boy some money, for the dog food and taking "such good care" of Laddy.  The van was filled with squeals and yells "Laddy ... Laddy!"  I looked out the window at the boy standing alone with his bicycle, as we drove away, and felt a little sad. Now we had two collies, Laddy and Lady.  Over the next couple of years we would have many more collies.  Laddy and Lady produced ten or so puppies a litter.  There were always people who wanted our collie mix puppies.   Doing dishes It would take us several hours to do the dishes at night.  Part of the reason for that was that there were a lot of dishes (with a family of nine).  But mostly it took so long because we would get distracted or just move slowly. Green Hornet There was part of an old Model A or T on the front side of the barn.   It was old and rusty.  I decided to "fix it up".   I took a some lime green paint that we had and painted the whole thing.  I also had some masking tape that I use on the front of the car to form the letters : GREEN HORNET.   My dad thought that I had done a good job.   A couple of people stopped by asking if they could buy the old wreck, but my dad told them "No, that's Ricky's car".   Eventually, when my interest went to other things, my dad did sell the car to someone who came by to enquire about it. Moving the Barn Sometimes things are not always the way they seem.  When my dad bought the barn,  the property lines seemed to go through our neighbors (the Womack's) garage.   My dad was not too concerned about that, but DID ask if he could store a couple of tools in the shed.   It was decided to have a professional surveyor determine where the boundary line was between the two properties.  When the surveying was complete they discovered that the property line actually was further onto our property than our neighbors.  In fact the line went through the end of our barn (that we were living in).  My dad was all for redrawing the lines (with some swaps) so both parties would be satisfied, but for some reason Mrs. Womack wanted to keep the portion of land that the end of the barn was on (probably because it was on the street, and she considered it more valuable).   So ... she was insistent that the end of our barn was on HER property and had to be removed.   There were two options ... tear it down or move it.  My dad said O.K. We'll move it.   The first chore was to dig under the barn so we could put it up on supports.   I think my brother Gary ended up with the bulk of this job.  I 'm not sure if my dad paid him, or if it was just something that he was expected to do, but I think he worked for most of that summer on the task.   When he was done there three or four stacks of rail road ties under each side of the barn and a few stacks in the direction of we were moving the barn.   Round pole were placed on top of the ties (just under the barn) so the barn would role forward.   My dad hire a man with a winch and he pulled the barn with a long cable.  As a pole would drop from the rail road tie we would put it at the other end of the tie till it reached it's final resting spot (about 20 feet from the starting place).     All Good Things Come From Heaven The boys bedroom was up in the loft.   There was a ladder to the loft that we would run up and down without using our hands.  We were so use to it that it was as easy as going up and down stairs. There was a long beam that ran the width of the barn (20') and cardboard was attached to serve as a wall.  It was not attached along the bottom, and one day when Lori was up in the loft we were playing "I touched you last".  Lori touched one of us and said "I touched you last", as she stepped back. the cardboard flapped open and she fell down into the living room partially landing on a lamp.  Although she was the winner of the "I touched you last" game, she also was on crutches for a couple of weeks, and we were in trouble. The boys had a dirty clothes basket upstairs that we put the dirty laundry into.  When my mom was ready to go to the laundry-mat we would shove the basket against the cardboard wall and PLOP! it would fall to the living-room below.  One laundry day I shoved the basket over the ledge just as my dad was coming out of his bedroom.  It landed right in front of him.  I froze and was sure I was going to be in trouble.  I though my dad would turn around and look up to see who had dropped this missile, and admonish me to be more careful and pay attention!  Instead he just paused and without turning or looking up he said, "All good things come from heaven." and continued to the kitchen.     Corrugated Bricks Some store was getting rid of there Christmas decorations, and discarded a roll of corrugated paper (cardboard) with a red brick pattern on it.  it was enough to cover an entire wall of the kitchen.  It looked good and my mom liked it. The Truck During the time that we were living in the barn, our family vehicle was a panel body truck like the one pictured above.  Our truck, however, was red.  Dad and mom were in the seats up front, and there was a picnic table (and benches) in the back that the rest of us sat around.  This was obviously before cars had seatbelts.  When the entire family was in the truck (all nine of us) our baby sister (Donna) rode in a cradle that was placed between the two truck seats up front. Frozen Milk It was a cold winter.  So cold that my dad decided to put up a curtain between the kitchen and the living room, in an attempt to keep our main living area a bit warmer.  During this time someone had forgotten to put the milk back in the refrigerator after pouring themselves a glass full.  The milk froze solid in the jar, and we had to put it back into the refrigerator to thaw it out. Too Much Wine I have never been much of a wine drinker ... or a drinker of ANY alcoholic beverages.  Basically, I just didn't care for the taste.  One day however, when we were over at the Corless's house, Mrs. Corless asked me and Rocky Corless to fill up some wine bottles with the strawberry wine they had made from strawberry syrup.  It was a very sweet wine (more like soda pop) and tasted good.  We would fill up a bottle and have a glass for ourselves, then fill up another bottle and have another glass.  after filling up several bottles we began to giggle.  We kept filling bottles, having a glassful and laughing.  I had an uncontrollable grin on my face and felt like the room was beginning to spin.  Mrs. Corless finally noticed us and said she thought we were tipsy from drinking too much wine.  My mom responded by saying "No, Ricky doesn't like wine." Bright Blue Pants I was always trying to be as good as my brothers at something.  They were very talented and I never really achieved the perfection that they had, but I would try.  My brother Gary was the musical genius of the family.  He was the one to teach us all of the harmony parts to the songs that we would sing.  He played guitar and had a great voice (and was always on key).  My voice was never as good as his, even when I was performing in concerts and recording in the studio all the time.  It was a struggle for me ... it was natural for him.  The same with art and photography.  My brother Gary is one of the most talented people that I know. My brother Gregory (Shomeir) has the same inventive ability that my dad had.  He is a mechanical engineer, and has a technical ability that I get lost even thinking about.  He knows how and why things work.  I am lucky if I know what button to push. My brother Steve was good at a lot of things.  He was the gardener (he could grow anything), the cook (mom would always have Steve make the pies), The potter (he was a fine craftsman in ceramics and threw a lot of wonderful pieces of pottery on the potters wheel), and he could sew.  My mom would always comment how good my brother Steve was at the things he did.  She never said that I did things poorly, there just wasn't that many things to compliment me on.  One day my brother Steve decided to make himself a pair of pants.  He had already made a few shirts for himself.  He made a pair of brown corduroy patch-pocket pants.  They looked very professionally made.  My mom was very proud and told everybody about the pants that he made.   I decide that I was going to make pants too. I picked out some really bright blue material and began sewing away.   After some time I had completed my pair of pants, and I wore them to school ... once.  They were terrible. They didn't fit well, the color was painfully bright, and they looked like a beginner 4-H project.  I put them away in some box and kept them for a while (just because it was a major project for me to make the thing), but I never wore them again. "You're Getting the Hack ... Not Me" One day in the ninth grade I decided to take my friend's (Rob Rhea) book and hide it in the back cupboard when he wasn't looking.  I then went about my normal routine acting as if I knew nothing about his missing book.  He, however, perceived (accurately so) that I had been the one who had moved his book.  He insisted that I produce the book, and told the teacher that I had taken it.  I was about to give in and tell him where to find the book, when to my surprise the teacher said, "Both of you ... to the vice principal's office."  This was not a welcomed thing to hear, since it was the vice principal who administered swats to unruly students.  I was thinking that hiding Rob Rhea's book was not such a good idea, as he was saying to me, "You're the one getting the hack ... Not me."  I thought he was right, I had taken his book and hid it from him, and he had done nothing to me.  When we got to the vice principal's office he asked us why we were there, and Rob proceeded to tell the story of how I had hidden his book.  The vice principal listened to the story, and when Rob had finished he asked me to turn around and pick up the item on the second shelf.  There was only one thing on the second shelf a large wooden paddle.  He asked, "Do you know what that is?" I nodded my head without saying anything.  "Do you think I need to use it?" I managed to say weakly, "no."  Rob had a look of satisfaction on his face, as the vice principal called our classroom and began to talk to our teacher.  "Oh" the vice principal said, "I wasn't told that part of the story."  "What more was there to tell", I thought. "After all, I just hid a book."  I was convinced (by the parts of the conversation that I could hear) that I must be in big trouble.  As the vice principal finished his conversation with our teacher, I closed my eyes briefly and then opened them as he began to speak.  "Apparently" he said "It wasn't a hidden book that brought you here ... but the fact that someone (he said looking straight at Rob) was making such a fuss that your teacher couldn't begin her class!"  Rob's look of satisfaction was replaced with the fear that had been on my face throughout our visit.  "Now, both of back to class, and I don't want to see you in here again."  We quickly left the vice principal's office as I tried to assess what just happened and felt the relief of escaping swats from the big paddle on the second shelf. Nose Trouble My brothers would always tease me and play practical jokes. They would laugh and so I believed everyone would think it was funny.  One day I came into the room and asked what they were doing.  One of them said, "Are you the police, or do you have nose trouble?" Then they laughed as I stood there unsure of exactly what they meant.  However I was certain that this would be a funny thing to say and was eager to "try it out" as soon as I could.  Shortly after my mom came into the room and asked what we were doing.  I quickly responded "Are you the police or do you have nose trouble?"  By brothers gasped not believing what I had just said, and I was in trouble.   For some reason it wasn't funny when I said it.  I must not have told it that well. Three Day Hikes Every summer our church had a three-day hike for the men and boys.  We would all carry our clothes, camping gear, sleeping bag, and our assigned portion of food in back packs as we hiked up to some remote mountain lake in the Cascade or Olympic mountains.  a day worth of hiking usually got us to a pristine glacier fed lake.  Some of us would be brave enough to dive in for a swim.  One year I did this.  It was very cold.  It was so cold that I could not even breath until I was able to grab onto something.  One thing that we all tried to do was reduce the weight of our back packs, by choosing very carefully what we would bring.  One year Danny Lapeska was extremely proud of the fact that he was not bringing a heavy sleeping bag.  No, he was bringing a "space blanket".  It was a thin piece of material with a shiny silver reflective surface.  The theory was that the reflective surface would use your body heat to keep you warm all night.  Unfortunately it didn't work.  Danny had been up all night shivering until he couldn't take it any more and decided to wake me up.  "Hey, I think people are getting up, let's go to the main campfire ... They had a box burning when I left.", Danny said.  So I got out of my sleeping bag (still half asleep) and followed Danny to the campfire.  By the time that I got there I was fully awake.  I noticed that NO-ONE was at the campfire.  Danny went over and stirred the ashes that had been left from a box that HE had been burning in an attempt to keep warm.  I looked at my watch.  It was 2:00 in the morning and no one would be up for several hours. I think I got my sleeping bag and we wrapped it around us till morning.  The next night, me and another friend zipped our two sleeping bags together, and the three of us shared.  I think Danny discarded the "space blanket" when our hike was over. One year I was particularly proud of how light I had made my back pack.  I had just the bare essentials and I was not getting worn out at all.  I was keeping up with everyone and had plenty of energy.  One of the boys, however, was having a lot of difficulty with his back pack.  I don't remember his name.  I just remember him as being kind of a "nerdy" kid.  Some of the adults were discussing what should be done, when my dad said, "Ricky can carry it, They can just switch back packs". "Ricky's backpack is light!"   So everyone thought that was a good idea (I was not asked for my opinion on the matter) and the switch was made.  The other boy's backpack was very heavy.  It wasn't until we were unloading the backpack (for the assigned food portions) that we realized why the pack was so heavy.  The boy had packed a number of trucks and other heavy toys into his pack.  My dad said that he was proud that I had helped the other boy, and that we should always try to help others who are struggling.  It made me feel a little better, however, I was still annoyed with the boy who packed his backpack with toys. Two Inches in a Week When I was in the eighth grade I grew two inches over spring break.  It was only one week and I had grown two inches.  I didn't realize this, however until I was getting ready for school and my pants were now shorter than they had been.  When I got to my locker at school, I was looking at a place two inches higher than before as I turned the lock's combination.  Everyone commented on how much taller I was, and I knew it was true because they all seemed shorter.  Death Other than a pet dying, I did not feel the impact of death till I was in high school.  One of the girls in my senior class committed suicide.   This seemed odd to me.  The girl was from a rich family (the kind of family that you would dream about being part of). They had a big house and a swimming pool.  One week she was there and the next week she was gone. Also, a friend of mine had died in a car accident.  His name was Jim Whale.  Whenever I would see him I would say, Look! There's a whale in the school"!  He played bass guitar, and him, Shorty Adamson and someone else on drums did a couple of dances and they had me sing the lead vocals.  They had an instrumental song that I put a melody and words to.  So it was written by the three of us,  Jim, Shorty, and me.  When Jim died his parents wanted us to sing the song that we had written at his funeral.  Shorty played guitar and I sang.  It was an uncomfortable thing to do. I didn't think much about dying when I was young, but I remember when I was in high school, wondering about suicide myself.  Things were not going well between me and my girlfriend (Rita) and we were at some church camp-out.  I remember that there was a tall building that sat kind-of on a small cliff.   A doorway on the top level looked out to the long drop to the rocks below.  I was very depressed and looked out the doorway to the rocks below.  It seems almost as if I was considering jumping to say "so there".  I stood there for quite some time thinking about the jump.   What stopped me was not the fear of dying, but the fear of living.  What if it didn't work, and I survived, and lived the rest of my life as an invalid.  There was no guarantee of a successful suicide, therefore it would be a bad choice.  It seems very strange to think about reasoning through such a thing.  I am glad that I chose not to jump. The Bicycle Trip The summer between 9th grade and 10th grade my brother Steve, Randy Corless, and I took a bicycle trip around the Olympic Peninsula. We packed up our back packs and tied our sleeping bags to our 10 speed bicycles and we were off.  The first day we went all of 30 miles and were worn out.  We camped under some bridge and started off the next day.  We had taken some food that we could eat along the way, but we also had some cash with us.  We started off on a Sunday morning, and I believe that we arrived back to the Corless's Home the next Sunday evening.  We could have gotten home a day earlier, but that was the Sabbath and we didn't travel on the Sabbath. In fact the evening before we were going to camp next to a drive in movie and watch the show from our sleeping bags until one of us realized that it was Friday and watching movies on the Sabbath was something that we didn't do so we found a more serine campsite.  Randy had a portable radio on his bicycle and we would group together so we could listen.  The two popular songs on the radio were Paul McCartney's  "Uncle Albert / Admiral Haulsey" and Tommy James' "Draggin the Line".  I still think about peddling around the peninsula every time that I hear those songs.  Our last day of peddling was much easier than the first.  We traveled well over 100 miles on our last day. Church Dances My parents had a rule.  You had to dance with every girl at least once before you could dance with a girl a second time.   It didn't matter what the weight, personality or attractiveness of the girl was; my dad felt that "every girl deserved to have a least one dance".  So if there was a girl that we wanted to dance with a second (or more) time, it was my dad's rule that we had to dance with all the other girls first. I would be counting them down (to myself of course) as I politely escorted them on and off of the dance floor. Every girl got to dance (at least with the Richardson boys).  I guess that it made an impression, because I was asked to escort no less than six girls to their proms. It was the early seventies and only ballroom dancing was done at our church dances; usually the fox trot.   We were at a wedding reception when I asked the minister's daughter to dance.  I asked her if she wanted to dance apart (modern dancing) she said she would if I would.   So we did.   Most people didn't know what to think.   I think some of them were wondering if we would get hauled off the dance floor and talked to.  But it seemed to go without incident.  The next dance there was another couple or two who dared to join us, and by the end of the dance nearly everybody was dancing apart (even some of the parents).  From then on church dances had changed, although being the rebel that I am, I would still do a fox trot or swing every so often. When I was in high school, a few of us Lance Cosgrove, Danny Lapeska, Dale Stansberry and myself, decided to start a church rock band to play at the dances (rather than playing records).  You see the problem was, that many of the songs we liked would not be approved because of the lyrics.  If we played the music ourselves, we could change the lyrics, thereby passing through the censors.  So Bad Company's "Feel Like Making Love"  became "Feel Like Making Pies".  Danny Lapeska came up with that lyric change, and I thought it was perfect.  We made no effort to conceal the fact that we had changed the lyrics, in fact the more obvious it was the better.  Everyone was aware that the lyrics had been changed to get past the censors, so (since we thought the censorship was silly) we would make the changes as crazy as we could.  Our band was called Transomega, which means across the end, and I wrote a theme song that we would play (at the end of the dance).  Standing: Norman, Gordon, Dale, Lance and Danny me on the ground in front About the time we decided to form our band, a new kid started coming to church; Norman Edwards.  He went to the same high school that I went to (Auburn High).  However, we were in entirely different circles.  I was in art and music classes, and Norman was in math and science classes.  I believe that he was the president of "Math Club" and was on the chess team.  Norman had built his own synthesizer, and had an electric organ.   Lance gave Norman the name "Norman Monster"  a take-off from Herman Munster (a TV character).  Norman also had a friend from school named Gordon.  Lance named him "Groady".   Gordon played (or attempted to play) rhythm guitar.  He was often on the wrong chord or his guitar was out of tune (we never knew which).  So after we tested our instruments at the start of a dance, one of us had the job of being sure that Gordon's guitar couldn't be heard.  When Gordon would say that he couldn't hear his guitar, we would tell him, "It sounds great from out here". One night on we were all walking home from something.  Either that, or we stopped the car.  We were up on the east hill of Auburn heading to Norman's house.  Someone decided they wanted to "streak".   It was the 70's and streaking was happening at school assemblies and other public functions.  We didn't want to streak in from of anyone, but someone, (probably Lance) wanted to try it.  So we stripped down to just our tennis shoes and ran a few blocks down the road.  It was late at night so there was no one around.  There was a little breeze, and Danny said it made him feel "free".  We tried to get Norman to streak, but he would have nothing to do with it. 56th Avenue Sparkles When we moved out of the barn into our "new" home next door (on 56th), it was the first time that we lived in something that could be called "new".  Even though it was an older home that had been moved from the SeaTac Airport area, the basement was new construction.  There were two bed rooms in the downstairs area (basement), along with the laundry room and a family room.  My brother Gary had his own room, and my brother Steve and I shared a room.  My sister Lori had a little room next to the laundry area and the stairs.   We had a "popcorn" ceiling that had blown on.  This is a ceiling that I would NEVER have in a home that I was to approve of the construction.   HOWEVER, at the time, it gave me a lot of real good feelings.   Mainly because it had sparkles blown onto the ceiling as well, so every time I got up in the morning I would see the sun shine off of the sparkles on the ceiling.  After living in a barn and a very small older mobile home it was a very happy place to be. Sandy and the Stairs At our new home we had carpeted stairs going from the front door up to the main floor and down to the basement level.  Gary would place Sandy upside down on the stairs on her back.  She didn't know what to do because she felt like she would fall down if she moved so she would just be there calling for help till someone decided to help her.   After a few times at feeling stranded on the stairs she realized that she could scoot herself down to the bottom of the stairs where she could stand up and climb back up to the top of the stairs. Feeling Good How are you?  It's a question that we all ask each other, seldom really wanting much more of a response than a simple "fine".   Sometimes it is easier to focus on the things in our lives that don't go well.  The hard times, the aches and pains, the difficulties at times seem to be overpowering.   And yet if want to, we have the ability to choose how we feel.   It is the wonderful thing about free-will.   We can be in control (if we want to be).  Even when we are sick and in pain.  I remember learning this lesson while I was still living at my mom's home.  I was sick.  I remember feeling just terrible,  I thought how terrible it was to feel terrible, which for some reason was funny to me.  I was in pain (throwing up in the kitchen sink) and laughing at the same time.   Feeling good isn't just about having no pains.  Nor is it about being trouble free.  I thinks that feeling good is about being in control of your emotional state, even when you are suffering.  It's being able to smile and laugh, just because you can. Scat at night When I was in the 10th grade I went to my brother Steve's choir class (along with my two older brothers) to sing some songs.  I guess Steve had told the choir teacher, Gary Allen, about our musical family, and he invited us to come to his class to perform.  We sang some old Mills Brothers songs along with some Crosby Stills and Nash and a few 60's songs thrown in there.  It was fun.  They turned the lights down and we performed like it was a concert.  It was a very nice group of students, who all applauded us.  Afterword Mr. Allen asked me why I wasn't in choir.  I forget what my response was, but the simple fact was, I thought it would be a bit boring.  He suggested that I join the vocal ensemble class the next year (it was a small group that also featured soloist).  It was not a bunch of nerdy kids.  I signed up and for the next two years we had a music class that the popular kids wanted to join.  We did a "folk rock concert" and performed at community events.  In my senior year we went to a competition.   Mr. Allen didn't sign us up for many competitions (in fact this was the only one) because they are usually on a Saturday, a day that I was unable to attend because of my religious beliefs.  We were singing a jazz number and I had a scat solo.  A scat solo is a free form solo that I would use my entire vocal range (including falsetto).  Sometimes I would get pretty loud while practicing.  The week before the competition I had been practicing quite a bit and a day or two before the big day I had woken up in the middle of the night and began thinking about my scat solo.  Before I knew it, I was doing a full volume scat while lying in bed at 2:00 in the morning.    I suddenly realized that I must be waking up the neighbors (let alone everyone in our family).  I stopped and went back to sleep.  The next day, no one said a thing.   Green River Community College Counseling Classes I thought it would be a neat idea to take a counseling class.   You know ... learn all the techniques of talking to people.  The problem is ... it seems most people took the  counseling classes because they NEEDED counseling.   It was the most dysfunctional group of people that I had ever had a class with.  I decided not to take any more classes on counseling. Ceramics I had taken ceramics in High school and decided to do the same in college.   I was interested in making mugs and bowls that I could quickly mass produce and sell at craft sales and other earthy-type markets.   I had a teacher that did not like mass produced items.  He believed that your projects should be more one-of-a-kind creations, and always tried to impress the class by using much bigger words than he needed to while giving us our assignments. Green River Current I drew a cartoon strip called "Richy" for the college paper (the Green River Current) and was also a photographer.  I had a cartoon in each edition (every other week), and generally did a photo feature in every other issue (about once a month).  I had also done both when I was in High School for the Auburn High School newspaper (the Troy Invoice). To see more cartoons:  Click Here Rick Richardson's Coffee House I made a TV show (Rick Richardson's Coffee House) for one of my class projects (a film class).  The show aired on a Tacoma cable station that Donn Moyer's parents owned.   I created the sets, produced the show, played a couple of songs, had guests, did an interview, put together a comedy segment, and had it all timed out into a 25 minute show. It was also about this time that I approached my old High School music teacher (Gary Allen) with an idea.   I told him that he could work with the Drama department and have a lunchtime performance once a month (called the Coffee House).   It would be in the "Little Theatre" and they could set up tables for people to eat their lunches.   Students who wanted to perform solo acts or small groups (but no classroom stuff) could perform.  In between the songs we could do short (Laugh-In or SNL type) comedy sketches.  All we would need was four or five songs.  And you didn't need to be in a class in the music department or drama department to participate.   He thought it was a good idea and said "When could you start?"  I told him that it was an idea that I thought HE should do.  I didn't want to be in charge of a high school event.   However, after some persuasion, I was at the high school every other week to work with the students.   I did this for a couple of years, and it became a very popular event.  Gus Hall Gus was my best friend in my second year at Green River Community College.  He was a Kung Fu black belt (who studied under Bruce Lee), and his grandmother owned Fuji film. We met during the summer (after my first year at GRCC) in a program that used a select group of students to go around and promote the school.  We liked each other from the start, because we could make each other laugh ... we would laugh about just thinking of ways to make the other laugh.  It might be some practical joke or maybe we would just jump out from behind something and scream when the other wasn't expecting it.  When ever I did this to Gus he would always fall to the ground in surprise and we would both lie on the ground and continue laughing.  Things were not always going well with my girlfriend (Rita) at the time, and it was nice to have a friend that you could just laugh with. One day when Gus and I were going home from work we drove past a guy who was looking through a garbage can for food.  I was looking with a certain amount of uncomfortableness, when Gus stopped the car.  I wondered why he was stopping the car when he jumped out and gave the guy a couple of dollars and said, "Don't do that ... here get something to eat".  I was surprised ... and wondered why.   I was not surprised so much that there was a guy looking through a garbage can for food, nor was I surprised at Gus giving the guy a couple of dollars, but I was surprised when Gus stopped the car ... because I was not thinking about doing it myself ... and THAT troubled me. Radio KGRG “Wow!” I thought, “You mean that I could be a DJ on the radio?” I had often pretended to be a DJ while collecting our two phonograph players and reel to reel tape recorder in my room as I put on my own private radio show. This, however, was a real 10 watt FM radio station. The flyer said that they were looking for people to fill certain shifts. I went to the college radio station office and filled out some type of form. I was told that I could have the 9:00 to 10:00 am slot. I would start tomorrow, just show up for my shift after my 8:00 class. I could hardly believe it. I was going to be “on the air”. It was hard to sleep that night. I had visions of being like the guy that I had seen behind the glass window earlier that day. It was a real radio station studio, with a real sound board, broadcasting over the air for a few miles from the college campus. After my first class, at 8:00, I showed up at the radio station to be "on the air" for the next hour.  I arrived at the studio and introduced myself, believing that this was the person who was going to train me how to be a D.J..  The person at the board said, "Alright, see you later."  I said, "What?! ... Who's going to show me what to do?"  The D.J. took at deep breath, then quickly pointed to all the controls and knobs saying what each one was for.  Then said, "O.K. here is how you cue the record"  He took about 15 more seconds to show me how it was done, and said, "I'm late for class".   He was gone as the record ended.  I was in a panic.  I looked down at the control board.  I looked at the turn table that was finishing up.   What control did he say to turn?  What button do I push? ... Dead Air .... then clunk  ... clunk ... clunk.  The record had finished and the needle was rubbing against the record label.   I remember!  I pushed the appropriate button and the next song started up.  I would have just over three minutes to figure out what all the controls were.  I pulled out some paper and began making little signs to put on everything. As I was finishing up my sign making job, the next song was ending.  "OH NO!" I had not cued the next record up and I had nothing to play.   I quickly put another 45 on the other turntable and dropped the needle at the outside edge of the record as it spun around.  I actually made a fairly smooth transition, EXCEPT for the fact that there had been an album on that turn table before and the songs was sounding r-e-a-l  s-l-o-o-o-o-w.  The hour dragged by with me doing everything possible wrong; two songs playing at once, cueing up a record (spinning it backwards) over the air (instead of "in cue"), dead air, leaving the microphone turned on during the song ...    I felt humiliated and KNEW that they would never allow me on the air again.  However, no one seemed to be paying much attention and when my hour was over, the next guy came in to take over as if the disaster that I had just created never happened.  I made sure to hang around the station BEFORE my next shift on air, so as not to repeat my last performance. My next show went much better, and after a short period of time I was feeling comfortable.  It was as fun as I had always thought it would be, as I created my own little "theatre of the mind".  I tried to understand and learn as much as I could about being a radio D.J. The Eighth Grader I was Program Director for KGRG and we had an eighth grader who lived nearby that wanted to be on the air.  Most of the staff was not in favor of the idea.  They all felt you should be a student at the college before having an air shift.  The station manager (Jim Willhight) asked me what I thought of the idea.  I said when I was in the eighth grade I would have done anything to be on the air.  We made the decision (against the wishes of most of the rest of the staff) to let Marty have a shift.  within a short period of time I was the station manager and had to defend Marty quite a bit.  "He's an eighth grader" I would say in his defense (his judgment wasn't always the most adult).  He used the name "Carl Larson" as his on air name.  We told him that he should use his real name; Marty Reimer.   After my two years at Green River College, Marty was still there doing most of the "mobile dances".  The KGRG Mobile Dance unit started after I left, but I was responsible for it beginning. A couple of friends of mine, Linda Scott and Doug Simmons, got married.  They had their wedding at a place called "The Little Lake Wedding Ranch".  I brought some of the station equipment with me, and did the dance for the reception.  The wedding place apparently liked what we did because, they contacted the college and began to have them do reception dances on a regular basis.  I am not sure exactly how we connected again, but I had purchased a mobile dance unit from J.C. Penny.  It was a suitcase with two turntables, a mic input, cueing capabilities and a number of other features. I bought a few lights, a strobe and a mirror ball, and asked Marty (now in high school) if he wanted to work for me doing dances.  We charged $100.00 and I paid Marty $30.00 (unless I did the dance and then I got the $30.00).  The rest of the money I put into the business buying prizes, records, and new equipment. I think we did dances for a couple of years (going from $100.00 a dance to $250.00).  We were busy most every weekend with at least one or two dances. Marty is a fantastic and talented performer.  When we started doing dances, I would do a dance like a radio show, but Marty did a dance like a concert.  He would get people excited and EVERYONE would be having fun.  I learned how to do dances from Marty (he was great at it).  I would do most of the Sunday and Saturday night dances, Marty would do all of the Friday night and Saturday dances. We ended up parting our paths over money.  Marty had done three dances in a row with some major pieces of our equipment (mainly lighting) being destroyed.  I spent more on replacing equipment than what we had earned doing the dances.  So I told Marty that I was going to take out money for broken equipment BEFORE I paid him his 30%.  Marty told me that he should be getting paid MORE than 30%.   He was right of course, I should have been paying him more, but I was too upset about the equipment that had been broken to discuss paying him a higher percentage at the time. We never did dances together again.  Marty went on to become a great air talent in the Seattle market, working for KJR FM and KMTT and probably a few others. Jack Young was the station manager for KGRG when it went "on the air" as a college FM station (in 1974).  He would later become sales manager for KBRD and KTAC.  Jim Willhight (who went on to form Willhight Radio Research [the small market Arbitron]) was the next station manager with Paul Thompson as program director (Paul went on to a number of stations including KVI and Star 101.5)  I took over as program director when Paul left (after just a month or two).  And when I became station manager, Larry Linsley ("Larry Love" who changed his radio name to "Larry Lomax") became program director, and then station manager.  So the short two years that I was on the college station we had a number of people who made their careers in radio. Jack Young  (KBRD / KTAC) Jim Willhight (Willhight Radio Research) Paul Thompson (KVI / Star 101.5) Larry Lomax (stations throughout Oregon Idaho and Washington states  including KCIS) Marty Reimer (KJR and KMTT) and me Rick O'Brien (KIXI / KVI / KOMO and KOL)                        Larry Lomax                                                   Paul Thompson       Jim Willhight                          Marty Riemer The Show Must Go On One afternoon when I was in a hurry to get to a wedding that I was doing the reception dance for (at the Little Lake Wedding Ranch), I had to stop all of the sudden.  I had some glass mirror squares on the seat of my truck.  When I stopped, I put my hand in front of the mirrors to prevent them from falling on the truck floor and breaking.   I was successful at preventing them from falling to the floor.  However, I also slit my wrist in the process.  The cut was quite deep.  In fact you could see to the tendon in my wrist.   The odd thing was ... there was no blood.   since I was not bleeding on everything I proceeded to the wedding and did the dance.  I had to keep my hand turned in throughout the night to keep the cut closed.   After the dance was over I drove to the emergency room to get sewn up. Ink and Grease What is the WORST job you ever had?  Mine was working for the local newspaper in the "mailroom".  It was kind of a catch-all position.  Sometimes I would be sweeping the parking lot, sometimes janitorial, and sometimes "flying" the press.  You would stand as the folded papers would come off the press and through the "inserter" grouping the papers into stacks of (I believe) 25 or 50 so they could proceed to the "bundler" that would tie twine around each stack.  You were constantly looking out for a jammed paper then every one would lunge for a nearby red button that would stop the entire process so the jam could be cleared.  It was like a game show, with several people trying to push the button near them.  It was monotonous work.  However nothing was as bad as the job of cleaning the press.  You were to put on some cover-alls and climb up into the presses to clean them. By the end of the shift you were covered with grease and ink.  The shower you took afterword just began to get some of the gunk off.  You would be cleaning yourself for the next few days.  No one wanted the job, and one day they gave it to me.  It was terrible and I decided that if they ever assigned me that task again I was going to quit.  A couple of weeks latter that is exactly what happened.  They called out "Richardson, clean the press". I went to the manager and told him that I had decided to quit.  I left and never went back.  Best and Worst Concerts If I had to pick a "best" concert I would pick Wings Over America in 1976.  Paul McCartney performed in the Kingdome.  Now, most concerts that were hosted in the Kingdome were not that good, because of an inadequate sound system.  However, the sound system that Wings brought was massive.  The sound system, big screen, and special effects were all great.      The worst concert would have to be Gordon Lightfoot at the L.A. Forum in 1974.  He was drunk.  He would start a song and then stop, because he couldn't remember the words or chords (or whatever reason) It was terrible. The Move to Idaho We moved to Idaho in 1982 when Susan was pregnant our first child.   She wanted to be close to her folks when the baby was born.  So we moved in the fall shortly before the first snowfall (which I think came that year in November).  It seemed like the snow was on the ground FOREVER, and there where drifts that would go to the roof on one side of the house.  That winter I worked with her brother cutting "poles" with Dan and Doug Park (they had lots of wooded acreage).  Dan and Doug would use their chain saws to cut the trees down.  The tree would fall into the deep snow and Jeff and I would use machetes to hack off the branches before loading them onto the flatbed truck.  It was not an enjoyable winter. Susan's folks gave us the big bedroom in their home for Susan and I to have our own space.  We contacted a midwife to deliver the baby.  Although we could have found out (through ultrasound) whether we were going to have a boy or girl before our children were born, we chose not to know till the birth.    Before the birth we would sit in our room and I would play my guitar and sing my songs.   There was one song that I had written titled "Rainbow Rider".  Every time that I would play that song, the baby would start to be REAL active.  We assumed that the baby was enjoying the music, although the kicking could have meant just the opposite I suppose. Bryan was born around 5am on May 11th 1983.  Susan went into labor about 24 hours ahead of that time, so when he was finally born Susan and I were both very tired, so the three of us took a very long nap. Bryan's first word was "Hi".  He was just six months old, and was able to say the greeting so clearly that people were shocked that this little baby was talking to them.  They would be caught so off guard, that they would do the most illogical thing possible.   Still filled with disbelief that this little baby was able to converse with them they would ask him "What's your name?"  And of course his response was always the same.   "Hi"  It was (after all) the only word that he knew.   light / ma ma ma da da da / billboards / KIXI wall / quiet Jessica / draw / run away / Popcicles and Waterbeds KATW The Weekend Shift Overnights Susan Fill-in Seattle Radio KRKO Our first break into the Seattle market came about after getting nowhere from dropping off our air-check tapes and resumes, and I decided to apply for a sales job at a small Everett station (KRKO).  My brother, Gary, showed me the want-ad in the newspaper, so I went and applied.  The person who interviewed me saw from my resume that I had grown up in Auburn, and said that he knew the new sales manager at KASY (the Auburn station).  He gave me the Sales Manager's name and suggested that I contact him, and tell him that he (the fellow in Everett) had sent me.   When I got home I called John Lake, the Sales Manager at KASY, and set up an interview. KASY KASY was the radio station that we listened to when we were kids.  It was the local station that served Auburn,  Kent, Sumner and the surrounding area.  I remember going to a live remote at an Auburn car dealer to see the "Lancers" perform.  We also went to the pancake breakfast and stock yard show remote and the American Legion hall breakfast and Veteran's Day parade that KASY did live broadcasts from.  But the big KASY event was "radio bingo" my mom listened all the time and played to win a bag of groceries from Massey's Grocery Store. I went to KASY to apply for the sales job that the fellow at KRKO had told me about.  When I was waiting to interview with the Sales Manager I found out that they also needed an on air person (air talent).  Since I was there applying for the sales position, I thought it would seem flakey of me to tell them that I was interested in the on air position instead.  So when I got home I told Susan to go right in and apply for the job.  She did and was hired right away as the overnight D.J.  It was several weeks before I was finally hired as a sales person for the station.  We thought this was a good stable move for us.  Much of the staff had been there for many years.  I began doing a lot of cold calling, and had gotten a couple businesses on the air that hadn't advertised on the station for years.  Although they were happy with my performance, I found this to be a much tougher sell than KATW in Lewiston. We had been there for just a couple of months and we were feeling comfortable with the job that we were doing ... when we got the news.  The station was sold, and we would no longer have a job.  It all happened quickly (within days).  The station would immediately begin similcasting KBSG FM and we would be paid for the next 2 months as the sale went through. KIXI When KASY sold (to become the AM KBSG) Mike Webb contacted KASY because he was looking for board-ops to replace the automation at KIXI.  It was around 1989 and computer automation had not yet been developed, so they had a couple of clunky carosels that didn't always work well.  Mike Webb (the Program Director at KIXI) interviewed Susan and I for a couple of the weekend positions.   They weren't on-air positions, so it may have seemed like a step down, but it was a major Seattle station, which I felt would look good on a resume (regardless of the position).   However, we were not hired.  Mike thanked us for coming in, but told us that he was looking for people who could work both Saturday and Sunday.  Since Susan and I could not work on Saturdays, he didn't have anything for us.  So we focused on another "small market" station KENU in Enumclaw.    KENU The TV show Northern Exposure was set in Alaska, but the location of the actual shooting of the show was in Raslin, Washington.  As I understand it, the idea of having the radio station (in the show) as a store front location, came about because the writers of the program had become familiar with KENU the Enumclaw station (which they would pass at times traveling to Roslyn.   The building that KENU was in was at the center intersection of town (on the corner of Cole and Griffen) and use to be a department store.  It had front windows from the ceiling to the floor that looked out onto the main intersection of the little town.  That was where the studio was located.  The DJ was "on display" for everyone to see, with speakers playing outside the station to the outside street.   We worked as the morning show team for a few months, and then told the program director that we would need to be gone for a little over a week for our fall religious holidays.   We had told the program director about this when he hired us.   However, he did not talk to the station manager about this, and the station manager told us that he would not allow us to be gone.  He said that if we went, we wouldn't have a shift when we got back.  I was a bit confused by his response and I asked him "Do you mean that you would fire us for observing a religious holiday."  He then seemed to become angry and responded "No, I am firing you right now!"  It seemed like an odd thing to do.   We had built up the listenership in the short time that we had been there.   Within a few days the station manager had taken over the morning show KIXI A few weeks after we began doing the morning show at KENU, Mike Webb (from KIXI) called us up and said that ih had decided to hire us for the Sunday board-op posistions if we were still interested.  We said Yes, we were and began each working a Sunday shift at KIXI the following weekend.   After a while a full time position opened (temporarily) overnights.   This was a position that was reserved for a minority .  The person would work the overnight hours and prepare for the KIXI morning show.  They had hired a minority that only lasted a few weeks and then  Mike hired one of the other board-ops (who didn't show up for the shift).   He asked me if I could fill in overnights and do show prep for him.   I told him that I would work the shift but I wanted to really produce the show.  I would prepare the entire show, and he could use as much or little as he chose.  He agreed to my proposal and I began producing bits, and gathering information. To my surprise Mike used everything that I prepared for him, and my fill-in position became a permanent one, as full time morning show producer.    Bobby Rich What a privilege it was to have been able observe some of the "masters" of radio.  When I was working overnights at KIXI I asked Bobby Rich if he would mind if I came into the studio to observe the morning show.  They (Kelly, Alpha, and Bobby - the i-guys) told me it was O.K., and I spent an hour or so ... several mornings in the corner of the studio.   It was a wonderful education, and confirmed many things that I felt about producing radio.  To watch the creation of the "theater of the mind" unfold in front of me was a thrill. KVI Mike Webb left KIXI to become Program Director for KVI.  He gave me a call to see if I could do some fill-in work.  He knew that I had been on air before, and he needed someone to do a couple of over-night shifts. I did a couple of fill-in shifts in October and then for Thanksgiving.  KVI was a "Golden West" station owned by Gene Autry (the singing cowboy).  KIXI   Brian Jennings The person that I was able to learn the most from, when it comes to planning and executing a format is Brian Jennings.  He was a brilliant programmer that could envision the product and make it happen.  He systematically went about forming all the elements, beds and liners.  He knew exactly what elements he would need and his promo placements all worked to achieve his objectives.  We had next to no staff at all when we switched formats from Oldies to News Talk and yet we sounded as if we had a big newsroom full of people. Mike Siegel There are those who are masters at their craft.  This was Mike Siegel and talk radio.  Siegel knew just what to do to get the phones ringing.  He knew how to lay the information out, build the suspense and ask the question. Jim Casale Tony Minor Casey Keating Kirby Wilbur KOL KOMO ................   ................. Cars My first vehicle was a 1965 Volkswagen Beetle.  It broke down while I was driving it home for the first time.  I had to reconnect the fuel line. Flat head Rambler Pinto Beetle VW van 56 International Pick-up Zepher Honda Datsan PU Tarus Mazda PU Corseca ......... Girlfriends Sherry Sessems  The girl next door (on the left side of our house on 1st Street) was named Sherry.  she was my first "girl friend".   Her father was a half owner of J&J Grocery Store.  When we would walk home from school (Washington Elementary) sometimes we would stop at the store.  The man at the counter would say hello to Sherry as she reached behind the counter to grab a fist full of candy.  Then we would continue home.  Sherry had a lot of nose bleeds.  I am not sure why. Tina Layos  I wrote my first song about Tina Layos.  It was called "Thinking of You". I believe that I was in the eighth grade.  I had a "Crafts" class that I had made a heart necklace in (as one of our assignments).  I had given it to Tina, and she accepted it.  Tina was 4'10" tall, but she was the prettiest girl at school.  She asked me a day or two later if that meant that we were "going together".  I wasn't sure exactly how to respond.  I really liked her, but I was a kid who lived in a barn.  We didn't even have indoor plumbing.  I certainly wasn't going to ask her to my house and most of the events that she would go to were on Friday nights and Saturdays ... days that I was unable to do anything on due to my religious beliefs.  So this relationship was a short-lived one.  One day she wanted to return the necklace to me saying, "We never do anything"  I told her that I understood, but to please keep the necklace. Rita Graves Rita was my girlfriend, off and on, for seven years (from junior high through community college). She was the world for me, but something didn't click for her.  I wanted to fix it but couldn't.  Most of my real depressing songs (and a few up ones) are from this time.  Perfect Love, Still in Love With You, Junk store Alley, Avalanche, Alone, The Proposal, The Wedding Song, Before We Could Start, When Will I see You Again, Demon In Your Eyes, Love's Web, Holiday, You in L.A., Self Portraits, Sometimes, and Song For Rita are all song written to/about Rita.  I would dream about Rita, even when we were not together, and even years after I finally realized that it was all over.  Rita played keyboard (piano) and sang harmony at times when I would perform at an "open mic" night.  I had a picture of her in my MG.  Her parents liked me, and when she went through her "rebellious years" it seemed that I spent more time with her folks than she did. We very briefly formed a band we called "Prospect".  In fact it so brief that we only did a couple of open mics, and never even did ONE concert.  It consisted of myself, Rita, my brother Steve, and Donn Moyer (or Don Oliver ... his "on-air" name / he was a D.J. on KTAC).  It was a very strange situation that I was in.  Rita wanted security in a relationship.  A guy who spent most of his money buying recording studio time, and worked odd jobs so he could quit them quickly and travel to L.A. to visit record companies, wasn't the most secure relationship.  Yet, my music is what captured her attention.  I had to keep believing that I would "make it" because it would be the only way that WE would make it.  I spent a lot of time feeling trapped and alone. Marla Graham After graduating from high school, I went down to Pasadena California to live with my brother, Gary.   I was 18 years old and couldn't wait to move out of my parents home.  It wasn't that it was that bad being at home, I just wanted to be on my own.  At the time that I left, Rita and I were not "together" and it seemed that I would be able to get my thoughts on something else (or someONE else). I had a certain amount of money that I was trying to stretch till I could get a job.  So I bought some food every week and portioned it out.  Each day I had the same breakfast; a bowl of corn flakes, the same lunch; a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with two cookies, and the same dinner; a piece of Banquet chicken along with some frozen corn that I heated up.   It was a hot summer and I remember taking two baths a day sometimes because I was so sweaty.   My brother had a girlfriend named Emma.  She lived a couple blocks away on Pleasant Street.   Emma's room-mate was Marla Graham.  Marla was attracted to me much more than I was to her.  It isn't that I didn't think that she was a nice girl and a fun person to be with, it's just that I couldn't stop thinking about Rita.  I couldn't explain my feelings because I didn't understand them myself.   I just had to leave.  I left mid way through the summer (as I recall).  Marla moved up to the Seattle area a few months latter.  She came to an activity where I was with Rita.  She was graceful, polite, friendly, and everything that a good person should be.  We talked, as good friends, and she went on with her life.  I never apologized and never explained.  It is something that bothers me to this day.  "Pleasant Street" is a song written about Marla. Adoria Kanistenaux After my dad died, my brother Steve and I got CETA jobs (my mom had found out about) working for school districts.   Steve worked for the "grounds" department at the Kent School District, and I got a job in the warehouse at the Auburn School District.  One of my main jobs was being the inner office mailman.  I would go from school to school ... picking mail up from and delivering mail to ... all the schools offices.  While delivering mail to the high school office, I met a girl (who was going into her senior year in high school) who was working as the summer high school secretary. I remember commenting to one of the other guys in the warehouse that I thought she was very pretty.   So they talked me into asking her what her name was.   She told me it was:  Adoria Kanistenaux.  I knew that I would not remember it unless I repeated it over and over on my way out to the truck.   So I was saying the name over and over as I walked ... A-door-ee-ah  Kah-nist-tah-no ... A-door-ee-ah  Kan-ist-tah-no.   As I was walking out, there was a lady walking in.   She looked at me like I was rather odd.   But that didn't matter to me, I needed to remember the name.   I later found out that the lady who was entering the school that day was Adoria's mother.  Although I had graduated three years earlier (and had already gone through two years of college) her mother seemed to be O.K. with Adoria being around me.  Her step-father, on the other hand was not too excited about the idea.  He thought that I was too old.  But since I was well known in the community, and considered to be a "good kid", he tolerated it (me).   At the time I was recording every so often at Applewood Studio in West Seattle, and doing concerts at various places.  I asked Adoria if she would like to sing back-up vocals for me.   Now, the odd thing about this request is that I had never heard her sing.  I just felt that she would do a good job (which she did).   But what if she was tone-deaf?   Anyway, it was a risky decision that paid off,  her vocals were great, and she can be heard on several of the songs on "my music" page.  Adoria was my unofficial "girlfriend" for about six months or so.  She actually had a boyfriend (Bob Bray) who was off at summer camp (when I met her) and that created a strange situation.  "Don't Want to Let You Go", "Song for the Beginning", "Crying in the Night", "It Must Have Been You" and "Windy Tuesday" are songs written about Adoria. Rachael Richardson Rachel was not a "girlfriend".  In fact I really didn't know her that much.  However, the story is important to tell, to know where my head was at.  I met Rachael Richardson at the Feast of Tabernacles in Seattle.  She was with her brother Kevin Richardson.  They were no relation to us.  My sister Lori knew Kevin from college (the church college in California). After spending much of the feast together and many phone calls afterward, I decided to go visit her in Oregon one weekend.  Upon arriving at her address I came to find out a couple of important things to know.  Mainly that she was married (although separated at the time).  She talked about "little white lies" that she told.  I remember wondering what she thought the difference between a "little white lie" and a "whopper" was.   When I arrived home I was advised by our local minister to "drop her like a hot potato".  It seemed like wise advice to me.   My song "Getting Better" was about this incident. Susan I am certain that Susan is the person that I was meant to be with.  Everything was "right".   .......... Concerts and Studios The Coffee House After graduating from high school, I was talking to Gary Allen, the high school music teacher, and told him that I thought that he should begin a "coffee house" once a week at lunch time in the "little theatre".   Tables could be set up and people could come and eat their lunch, and a half an hour of music and short skits (usually like a one liner) could be performed by anyone in the school who was interested in performing.  The drama department could use their staging and lighting skills and students could develop their individual performance skills.   After describing the concept he said, "Great, when will you be able to start it?" I was not expecting to be asked to run the program, but he convinced me to come to the High School once or twice a week and work with students who were interested in the idea.  I talked with the drama department, and it was a go.  So for the next year or two I worked with high school student who wanted to do more than sing in the school choir. The program was a big success and I was very proud of many of the students who performed. The Other Side of the Tracks Every few months I did a Saturday night concert at "The Other Side of the Tracks" in Auburn.  It was sponsored by Victory Music (which featured "open mic" nights every week).  I also went to the open mics as often as I could.  It gave me the opportunity to perform the songs that I had just written and get immediate feedback.  Childcare / racecar / Taking Care of Business Auburn Avenue Theatre Auburn Avenue Theatre was a movie theatre when I was little.  I remember standing in a long line to see Mary Poppins when it came out. But about the time that I graduated from High School it became a live performance theatre for both drama and music.   HUB Auditorium Applewood Studio The Home Studios ABC Dunhill   ... It didn't knock me out The Unknown Guest On the cover of Jackson Browne's "For Every Man" album you see the courtyard of a home in L.A. where his brother Severin lived (in the late 70's). I met Severin when he was performing in Seattle in 1977.  He had recorded some things at Applewood studio and Terry Miller (a friend who introduced me to the studio) had told me where Severin's gig was.  I showed up and when his band took a break after the first set, I went up and introduced myself.  I asked him if I could give him a cassette tape of songs that I had written.   I was interested in any comments that he could give me.   He graciously said he would be happy to listen to my songs.  I am not sure if I gave him my phone number, or he gave me his ... but after a few weeks we were on the phone together talking about my songs.  He made a couple of lyrical suggestions but told me that he thought my songs were "cool" and told me to look him up when I was in L.A. (I was planning to visit the record companies in another month or so). So, When I got to L.A. (actually at my brother Gary's apartment again in Pasadena) I gave Severin a call, and he invited me over.  I took the bus to where he lived, and he showed me around his place (pictured in the album cover above).  He also invited me to a costume party that he was having in a couple of days.  I asked if he minded if I brought my brother along.  He said no, that would be fine. The question was ... what could we wear as a costume?  Gary came up with the idea of going as the "Unknown Guest".  There was a comic at the time that would perform with a paper bag over his head with two eye wholes.   He was called "The Unknown Comic".   So we went to the costume party wearing jeans and a sport jacket with a paper bag over our heads.  We each had a sign on our jacket pocket that Gary had made.  It was about 3"x5".  Mine said, "The Unknown Guest", and Gary's said, "The Unknown Guest's Unknown Brother".  We showed up to the party and sat along the side, not speaking to anyone but ourselves.  When someone would come over and say hello, we would nod or use hand gestures.  Gary would occasionally smoke a cigarette, using one of the eye wholes. This was a typical "Hollywood" party, where most of the attendees come with hopes of seeing someone famous.  There was talk going around that we may be the Hudson Brothers.  At one point someone announced that he had a new single to play.  So he put his 45 on the record player and played his song (as he and his girlfriend danced).  No one seemed to pay much attention, and when the song was finished he retrieved his record and blended back into the party guests. When the part was over we went back to the kitchen to tell Severin goodbye.  We took off our bags and the people who were with Severin (in the kitchen) seemed to be disappointed that we WERE, in fact, "unknown guests'. The Music Source RSO and Pollydor ............ Hot Springs My brother Steve thought it would be a neat thing to hike up to some hot springs.  So we were off hiking.  We were not going to stay the night so we didn't take our back packs, as I recall.  The trail had not been used for some time.  In fact, parts of it were completely grown over.  There was one section that we hacked our way through berry bushes and other overgrowth till we finally came the the remains of the trail again.  The more difficult the way became, the more "worth it" it seemed to be, because we would have these unknown hot springs all to ourselves.  When we were just a few hundred feet from the springs, we hacked our way onto a nicnew e road that was not on our map.  As it turned out, the map that my brother had purchased was 10 years old and now there was a new road that went directly to the hot springs.  We were not alone.  It seems that it was a popular spot for naked middle aged men.  We were so disappointed that we left without even trying to experience the hot springs.  From then on we always looked at the date our maps were published before we set off on adventure. Mount Rainer I believe it was on my 23rd birthday that I climbed to the top of Mount Rainer with my brother Steve and Danny Lapeska. Danny had been working for an outdoor/camping place and had already climbed Mount Rainier a couple of times, so he was the guide.   We all got together at our house and loaded up my pick-up truck with all of our gear.   We drove to Paradise and proceeded to hike to Camp Muir (the "high camp").  However, we got less than half way there and the weather began to turn bad.  So we headed back down the hill and spent the night at some friends house in Eatonville and then headed out the next day.  Danny told us that if you get caught in even a mild snow storm, you could get all turned around and it could become very dangerous.   That was O.K. because none of us were on a strict schedule, as I remember.  We headed back up the mountain the next day and reached the high camp in the afternoon, as people were setting in for the night.   You need to go to bed early so you can get up at midnight and begin your accent.  That way you can get back down the mountain before the afternoon comes and all the crevasses open up.  The campers cabin was wall to wall people.  There was no room for us.  So we went outside a choose a place that we would roll our sleeping bags out for the night.   But before doing so Danny gave us lessons on how to "fall on your ice ax".  The three of us would be tide together the next day, and if someone were to fall into a crevasse the other two would have to stop the fall by falling on the ice ax and digging our "cramp-ons" (spikey things attached to our boots) into the snow.  After a few short lessons we were off the our sleeping bags.  Getting sleep was a bit difficult due to the rodents that kept running around and over us throughout the short night. We got up at midnight and began our climb before most of the rope teams headed off.  There were a couple of large groups and we didn't want to get "stuck" behind one.   We had our headlamps on as we began to hike.  You need a headlamp when you begin because it's dark and everything has snow on it, so the trail isn't that easy to see all the time.  The problem was, we only had two headlamps between the three of us.   So Danny decided that since he was in the lead, he should have one, and since I was in the rear, I should have the other one.   I was to shine my headlamp ahead enough for Steve (who was in the middle) to see.  This was very awkward and uncomfortable.  My head was pointed up the hill and I was unable to see where I was walking.  I was glad when it became light enough for us to hike without the headlamps.   The higher we hiked the less oxygen there was to breath.  I was taking about five breaths for every step that I was taking.  The hike itself wouldn't have been that hard at all, if I was able to breath.   I got a bad headache and felt nauseous.  We had packed a lunch but I had a hard time eating anything.  We finally reached the crater at the top.   Mount Rainier is an inactive volcano so the top of the mountain is the highest point of the crater ridge at the center.  There was a big coffee can at the top with paper and pencils.  Everyone added their names on the list of names on the paper.   This was done not just because it was a neat thing to do ... but if someone went missing the rescue teams would know if the hikers disappeared on their way up or down the mountain. Heading down the mountain was much easier.  You would just let yourself relax and kind-of glide down the hills of snow.   I was feeling much better and was hungry when we reached the truck.  .................. RDS Dan and Lan Stan Ricky Raccoon Ice Cream Our first location was an old wooden building in Olympia.  There were blackberry bushes growing around it.  I had two of my own ice cream scooters, and four scooters that I leased from RDS.   Dan (the owner of RDS) had "advised" me to start my business at the end of the season.  I don't know why I went along with this crazy idea.  It didn't seem like it would be the best move, but Dan had done this business for years, and he certainly would know the best way to start. As it turned out, it was a big mistake.  IF you ALREADY have a business going ... THEN starting new at the end of the summer works great, because you get a nice boost at the end of the year from brand new customers.   I did not have a business going, so Dan was the only one who really benefited from this crazy start date.  I was stuck with a bunch of things to pay for through the winter, without having made any money except for a few weeks at the end of the summer.  It was the biggest of many pieces of bad advice given to me by Dan.   The next year we moved our location to a little nicer building.      The weight of 25 pennies When I was driving an ice cream scooter, I was often paid in pennies.  When being paid 25 cents (in pennies) all day you are able to tell how much money you have just by the weight in your hand.  If a child would give me 23 or 24 cents I would be able to feel that total was short, and have them count out the pennies.  Or if they had given me too many pennies, I would say, "that's a little too much, let's count it out."  If the weight felt right in my hand, however, I would never count it out.  I would simply throw all of the pennies into my little glove box.  At the end of the day, my penny count was usually accurate (down to the penny). Camp out The most enjoyable part of running the ice cream business was getting started.  It's kind of like camping out ... no ... it IS camping out.   We had operated a company in Olympia, and I decided to go to Aberdeen, and start a base of operation there.  I bought a travel trailer and we put a scooter in the back of my pick-up, and hitched up the trailer and we were off on our adventure.   I brought two more scooters down, along with a "back box" for dry ice and chest freezer, and we were a full fledged operation.  Operating from a trailer park on the edge of town. Our move from Courde Alene to Lewiston was even more of a camping trip.  We rented a storage unit at a place in Clarkston that was right next to a campground.  we put our two scooters and a chest freezer in the storage unit.  This was our temporary base.  Our camp ground was our temporary home.  We pitched a tent next to our truck (at the camp ground) and drove around all day selling ice cream.  Susan found a house for rent, and after a couple of days of selling we had enough for the month's rent and deposit.  We then moved our base into the garage of the home we rented.      Jail bird .................. Goat's Milk ................. Nudie Fruitcakes Search Papers  / tape recorder ................. The Kennedy Assassination, Moon Landing, and 9-11 .......... Lessons from the Shoe Shine Stand When I was in Junior High School my dad was the barber at SeaTac Airport.  It was during the Vietnam war. During the day a black gentleman worked at the shoe shine station inside the barber shop, but after 5:00 pm my brother's and I had the opportunity to shine shoes.   So we would like turns taking the bus to the airport in the afternoon.  We would shine shoes for two or three hours and come home with our dad.  We could make about $30.00 a night, so as an eight grader I had much more money than I needed working just one day a week or so. My dad could talk to ANYONE, and everyone seemed to enjoy talking to him.  One day a couple of guys came into the barber shop to get their boots shined.  These guys obviously were not there for a haircut.  Their hair was longer than most people who came into the barber shop, and they were dressed a bit more "modern" too.  My dad asked them where they were heading to, and what they did for a living.  They said that they were in a band.  One of my brothers was working at the stand that night.  They seemed to really enjoy talking to dad.  He asked them what the name of the band was.  My dad enjoyed music, but was unfamiliar with any of the current rock bands of the time.  "Jefferson Airplane" they replied.  I am sure that my brother must have felt a rush going through him when he realized who's shoes he was shinning.   My brother finished up.  They paid for the shine and gave my brother a tip, and they were gone.  "Guess whose shoes I shined", my brother exclaimed when he got home.  I wished I would have worked that night. The famous people whose shoes that I had shined were not nearly as "cool".  I shined the owner of Farrell's Ice Cream Parlors once.  My dad carried on a conversation with him and I realized ... this guy was RICH.  I did an extra good job, and was imagining the big tip that I would receive.  After all, army guys usually tipped a buck or so.  THIS guy was sure to give me a five or more!  When I was done with the shoe shine he gave me 60 cents (the price of the shoe shine) and then reached into his pocket and said "and this is for you".  He placed a dime in my hand and left the barber shop thinking that he had made my day.  It was the smallest tip of the night. I was able to make more money than I knew what to do with (for a while). One of the things I liked doing is rolling quarters down the hall and see people scrambling after them.  I never saved any money, because I believed that I could always go to work with my dad and make more.  I became interested in photography around this time, and so I finally had something to save for.  I wanted a professional SLR camera.  The problem was, the Vietnam war was ending and all the soldiers that use to fly in, stopped coming into Sea Tac.  In addition, the airport started major construction and fewer people were able to find the barber shop.  What use to take a week to earn was now taking a month to earn.  I thought of all the quarters that I had rolled down the hallways at school, and how easy it use to be to earn money (when I didn't know what to do with it).  Now I wanted to buy something and it took forever to make enough.   The construction at the airport soon effected business so much that my dad looked for (and got) other work.  No more shoe shining for the boys. .............. Summer Jobs and Wood Piles We went "picking" every summer as our summer job.   The town that we lived in was in a valley with large farms.   Lots of kids would work in the fields picking a wide variety of produce.  We picked beans and cucumbers, strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries. We worked every summer so we could buy school clothes.  Our parents would buy clothes for us each year, but they weren't the cool stuff that some of the other kids had.  We would usually get the J.C. Penny  plain pocket jeans from our parents.  If we wanted to get Levi jeans, we would need to buy that ourselves. The Machine ............ Dreams, Miracles and Voices Do you believe in visions, premonitions and ghosts?  I'm not sure exactly how intuition works, why faith seems to possess so much power, or what happens when someone dies, however, There seems to be more to our lives than just what we routinely go through every day. Class Photos When I was in the 10th grade I remember the thought come to my mind that the school photos would be on the front counter of the classroom, and someone saying, "Hey, the pictures are here!"  I didn't think much about it at the time.  It was a random thought. When I got to my home room that day I was busy doing something at my desk when someone said the pictures were here.  I had a rush of dejavu go through me, as I looked to the front of the room.  The pictures were not on the front counter.  They were on the teachers desk, next to the front counter.  This seemed odd to me if I was somehow seeing a glimpse of the future, why would there be variances like this?   The Acceptance Letter Another time (a couple of years later) I had another random thought about receiving an admissions acceptance letter from Western Washington State University (where I had applied).  It was in an 8x10 manila envelope. Again I didn't give it much thought till I got home and checked the mail box.  I wasn't expecting the letter to be there, nor had I thought about it that much (other than that random thought) because I was leaning toward not attending that school.  As it turned out I did not go there, rather I attended Green River Community College (near home). At any rate ... when I got home and checked the mail box, there it was the acceptance letter from Western Washington State University.  However, the envelope was white.  Again It seemed strange to kind-of get a glimpse of the future (with a twist). The Streets of Jerusalem I would also get random thoughts about me (in the future) walking down the streets of Jerusalem doing something that I felt was important.  I wasn't sure exactly what I was doing there, nor did I know how I knew it was Jerusalem.  It just seemed like something that I would do.  I remember telling my girlfriend (at the time) about it.  Again it seemed odd, and I did not know why I felt so sure that I would be there.  I had no ambitions to move, spend time in or even visit Jerusalem.  I wanted to be a recording artist.  Again, I didn't give it a whole lot of thought till about 25 years later, when I would be a frequent visitor to the city. I guess I had always thought that everyone experiences random thoughts that give you glimpses into the future, and maybe (to a certain extent) everyone does.  I don't know. A Drive Around The Block I was driving an ice cream scooter for RDS in the summer of 1979 in Tacoma, Washington.  My route was a location known as "Hilltop".  It was the part of town that had frequent drive-by shootings, as L.A. gangs had recently moved north to the Seattle / Tacoma area.  The area consisted of low income families (mostly on welfare).  Ice cream sales were the best after the first of the month, when people received their government checks.  This was also an area that robberies were common in. One day while driving my scooter, I came to an intersection where I felt that I shouldn't go down the street.  Instead I went one street over and avoided that block.  I had never done this before, and didn't know why I was doing it then.  I just (for some unknown reason) didn't fell comfortable driving down that one stretch of street. The next day some of the kids told me that someone was planning to rob me the day before but I passed by the street.  I guess that surprised them and they changed their plans.   I had somehow "felt" the "bad energy" or God had given me a bad feeling about what was up ahead.   I can't explain it but I am glad it happened. My Dad's "Ghost" My dad died when I was 22 years old.  It was in November, about a week or two before Thanksgiving.  My dad had picked me up from work. I was working at a gas station (it was not that busy, so I would bring my guitar to work and spend my day writing songs).  He had me drop him off at a Shackley distributors home, and I drove the car home.  While he was there, my dad had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital.  I was off doing something the rest of the day, so I did not go with my mom, and my two youngest sisters to see my dad in the hospital.  My dad died that night.  When I arrived at the hospital with my mom in the morning, the doctor met us as we came in and my mom could tell from there actions and expression that my dad had died.  Before they could say anything, she asked "Is he dead?" I was surprised that she was asking the question.  I was equally surprised when they said yes.  I was not able to see my father again.  I chose not to view him after he had died (I didn't want the image of my dead father in my head). The next day I had a recording session scheduled at Applewood Studio in West Seattle.  Rather than having to call everyone to tell them that the session was off (and explain why), I just kept the date and did the session.  The night before, however, I had a dream.  My dad was in my room.  I sat up in bed and he began to talk to me.  He wanted to make sure that everything was alright. He asked a couple of questions till it was understood that he couldn't stay and he wasn't really suppose to be there.  That was the dream.  I didn't think much about till we were all together at Thanksgiving, a week or so after the funeral.  Someone mentioned about the dream that they had.  It was just like mine.  In fact all seven children (except my two youngest sisters who saw my dad before he died) had the same dream, I believe on the same night.  I am not sure what to think about that. What is a miracle? I am not sure if I have experienced any, but there are several things that I have no explanation for.  Legs Through Metal I owned an MG Midget.  It was a challenge to keep it running because parts were vey expensive.  So I decided to buy a "parts" car.  An Mg Midget that didn't have an engine, but it had everything else.  I replaced my transmission from the one I took from my "parts" car, and I was working at taking some wheel or brake parts from the vehicle (I can't remember just what I was removing).  The car was up on jacks, and I had my legs underneath the car as I pulled on the wheel parts that I was removing.  The car tipped to one side and the jacks fell out from holding the car up.  My legs were completely underneath the car and the vehicle came down quickly.  I was certain that my legs would be crushed.  I said a quick prayer (basically just a call for help), and stood up and stepped away from the car.  I was a bit shaken so in went into the house for a minute or two and then came back out to see how to get the car back up on the jacks.  To my surprise the car was flat against the ground the jacks had fallen away from the car and were not underneath it.  As I looked at the car, I did not know how I was able to get out from under it.  The car had come down before I was able to remove my legs, and yet my legs were never touched by the car that was flat against the ground. It was as if I had pulled my legs through the car itself.  I have no explanation.  My Car Was Totaled, I Was Fine Another incident that happened around the same time also had to do with my MG.  I was driving home from a wedding rehearsal.  I was always being asked to sing a weddings.  I had written "Song for the Beginning" for this wedding.  The parents of the bride immigrants who spoke Spanish.  So I wanted a song that had Spanish in it.  Anyway ... on my way home there was a bridge that I crossed that had a turn in it.  The bridge was about 30 feet above railroad tracks.  It was a rainy night and as I was driving over the bridge a car (or truck) drove toward me with what seemed like his "brights" on.  I looked off to the side and as he passed looked forward again.  The road was turning and I did not have enough time to turn  with the rain coming down.  I was heading straight for the railing and I felt certain that I would be going over the side. I closed my eyes and ask for help again.  I didn't open my eyes till everything had stopped moving. When I opened my eyes my car was totaled and was facing the other direction.  I was not harmed (not even scratched).  I don't know exactly what happened. Throughout my life I have never broken a bone.  I don't know if my quick prayers for help made the difference at preventing any broken bones, but I am thankful that the outcome has always been the way it was. Call The Elders Another experience that is unexplained in my mind happened at Ocean Shores.  We had a "feast site" at Ocean Shores, Washington.  I rented the Convention Center, and flew speakers in from around the country.  We planned activities for everyone and provided children's classes for the kids and workshops for the parents.  We never charged anything for this event.   People made voluntary donations, and a few people contributed a bit more to make it all happen.  I believe it was the last year (2000) that someone had come to me asking if I could come pray for a family member who had spend the last day or so in bed (unable to get up because of a bad back).  I questioned them as to why they were asking me to come and pray.  They said that "the Bible says to ask the elders of the church to pray for the sick".  I agreed to come, thinking that there would be a number of people there to pray and I could show support.  However, when I arrived, I discovered that they where thinking that "the elders" was me.  There was no one else there except for the family.  I was stuck.  I had already agreed to come and pray, so I said a quick unimpressive prayer, being as respectful as I could while feeling a bit awkward.  After I had finished the person immediately got up and started walking around the room saying that the pain was gone.  If this had been one of my friends or family members, I would have thought it was a prank.  But I knew these people, and they were not the prankster type.  They thanked me, as I felt a little odd.   I had not felt anything.  You would think that if putting your hands on someone had something to do with them being "healed" you should at least feel something.  I didn't.  I was surprised when they got up.  It seemed a bit scary in a way. The Voice That Woke Me Up Have you ever heard voices?  Up until 2001 I had not.  We took our first trip to Israel in March of 2001.  Not too long after arriving home, I was awakened one night.  I thought that Susan had called my name.  I turned to her and said "what?" and then I realized that she was sleeping.  I thought I must have somehow been part of a dream, and I went back to sleep.   A few weeks later it happened again.  I was awakened by Susan's voice saying "Rick".  But again, Susan was asleep. I got up and checked to see if there was anything plugged in, or in anyway could catch on fire.  I thought I was being woken up for something, but didn't know what.   I told Susan about this in the morning and we wondered what was going on.  Not too many nights had past and I heard the voice again.  This time I got up and went into the living room to have a talk with God.  What was this all about?  Was I suppose to notice something? What was I missing?  I looked up the passage in the Bible where God called Samuel's name.   I quietly asked the question that Eli told Samuel to ask.   ... nothing.   After the next time it happened I told people at the fellowship and asked them what they thought it meant.  Someone suggested saying "Here I am Lord".  I said I tried that and it didn't work.   I didn't get an answer that seemed suitable to me.  I kept getting woken up in the night.  It was becoming a nescience.  I remember saying "If you're trying to tell me something, you're not doing a very good job, because I am just not getting it".  I continued to be woken up and the voice got louder and more intense.  One morning I was woken up with a very intense "Rick" inside my head.  I could tell that I was not hearing the voice with my ears, instead the voice was coming from inside.  I never heard the voice when I was awake, only when being woken up.  It was loud this time and I was startled awake.  I went out to the living room where my desk was and I began to look up a couple of things that I was studying.  Susan had gotten up and was fixing breakfast when Mary Ellen Stevens called us on the phone.   "Turn your T.V. on" she said.  "What channel?" we asked.  She said, "It doesn't matter."   It was September 11, 2001.   The voice stopped waking me up after that morning.   It all seems very strange to me.  If there was a purpose to waking me up, I fail to understand what it was.  What could I have done, and what difference did it make?   Maybe one day I will understand why this happened, but for now it is a mystery to me. ................... Strange Dream When I was in the sixth grade a had a reoccurring dream that would have been cool if it could have actually happened.  I would tread air.  It was like treading water.  If you relaxed you would begin to float, and I could glide along the treetops, just by relaxing and letting myself float.  Pretty cool. .............. Change In 1980 I met my wife at a “Feast of Tabernacles” in Spokane Washington. We had two children and by the early 1990s, in our local church in Tacoma, Washington (of about 200 people), I was the president of the men's speaking club, director of the children's choir, and one of the song-leaders for the congregation. Then everything change. The founding leaders of the church had died and the new leaders made the decision to become more mainstream in the Christian faith. Some congregations began to celebrate Christmas and Easter and changed their day of worship from Saturday to Sunday. Tapes were sent out to explain the doctrine of the trinity. When I found myself yelling at my tape recorder, I realized I needed to do some studying and determine exactly what I believed and why I believed it. Also, at this time, a new development happen.  It was called the internet. It wasn't long before "search engines" began to show up where you would be able to type in an entry and search for websites on the internet.  There were a number of competing search engines and the information was not always the same, so it was best to use several search engines to find something.  Yahoo emerged as the leader, but then they added more "stuff" to there page.  Then Google took over as the preferred search engine taking on the simple design that Yahoo once had.  The first searches for anything Jewish were not too productive.  As information began to emerge there was a lot of "fringe" information that tended to be unreliable. Ten Talents Uncle Dave's cell phone   This is Samuel Bacciocci   .................. It's Just the Way You Are We attended a little home church for a period of time (beginning around 1993).   It was part of "The Church of God International".  We decided that we could no longer attend the church that I grew up in (The World Wide Church of God), and began to look for an alternative.  We showed up at the house and there was a family of 6 and three older couples.   The one in charge (Crystal) asked me if I wanted to take over as host of the service.   I declined.   A few weeks later a traveling Pastor, who was in charge of the "region" persuaded me to become the new church "host" in order to assist him with the small group.  As the next few weeks went by we began to grow in numbers and decided it would be a good idea to rent a hall for our Sabbath service.   The group quickly grew to between 30 to 50 people each week.   Along with the number of people we had came the number challenges to deal with.  I was having a variety of people speak.  Almost all of the local men would be encouraged to give a "sermonette" on a rotating basis.  Each week someone would speak for about 15 minutes or so, before the Sermon that was a video tape (45 to 60 minutes) sent out to all the little congregations that did not have a local pastor.  I developed an operations and procedure manual, and planned local activities and outings.  Susan put together classes and activities for the kids and organized potlucks flowers and decorations.  We organized  a church library and a "special music" schedule.  I bought a sound system and song books.  We eventually decided to become independent of the large organization and avoid the politics involved. Fellowship and Ministry Without the ties to "parent" organizations, we began to explore Judaism as the historic roots of Christianity.   Since the organizations that we had belonged to, kept the Sabbath and Biblical (Jewish) holidays, it seemed logical to study more about the commonality and differences of the two beliefs. We formed two organizations; Fellowship of Messiah (a local congregation) and Christian Renewal Ministries International, or CRMI ( a ministry and outreach to go beyond our local group).  We continued to rent a Kent parks facility until it became more economical to lease our own.  We were now hosting an Erev Shabbat service (Friday evenings) and spending more time on our Sabbath service.   This was the unit for our main meeting hall.  We had seating for around 60 with room for dancing up front.   ............. Ocean Shores After the Church of God break-up, the "Feast of Tabernacles" (that had always been a time for families to get together) had smaller feast sites, with every break-away church having their own sites.  I had successfully brokered two of the organizations ("Church of God International" and "United Church of God") to have a joint activity at a place on Whistler Mountain B.C. where both churches had their individual sites.  But I had a vision of a feast site that was not run by ANY of the the groups and that ANYBODY would be welcomed at. My brother, Gregory, and his wife had come back from a weekend at Ocean Shores one day, and told me about a new convention center that had recently been built.   I called the Ocean Shores Convention Center and enquired about the expense, to see if setting up a feast site there was feasible.  I found out that I could rent the entire place for ten days for a total price of $2000.00 (10% down with the remainder 30 days before the event).  I also enquired how far in advance that I could reserve the facility.      Shabbot Across America No Oral Law .................. Our First Trip to Israel .................. The Noachide Oath We were not expecting the firestorm that happened. We thought that what we had done would go relatively unnoticed. Yet after arriving home, the small ceremony we had participated in resulted in a flood of emails. Some seemed to be genuine and curious, others were filled with “ah hah” questions, and a few even contained insults and profanity. Why all the flurry? What had we done to cause such concern? The process that lead us to this point had started years before, but everything moved into place just one day earlier. It was Sunday, October 15th, 2006. We were visiting the offices of Rabbi Chaim Richman in Jerusalem, Israel. We were preparing to leave Israel in a day or two, after being there for the fall festival of Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles). Rabbi Richman had spoken to groups that we had brought to Jerusalem for Sukkot each year. In the past we had up to one hundred people with us. This year, however, was the first year that we had simply rented a small apartment, and had no tour group with us. As we began to talk we related to the rabbi our decision to convert to Judaism. Back in Seattle (before leaving for Israel) my friend and mentor, Rabbi Daniel Lapin, had given me a (somewhat cryptic) question to ask Rabbi Richman about our decision to convert. Although I can't remember now what the exact wording was, at that time I was careful to use the exact words that Rabbi Lapin had said. It was about Maimonides and his views. I had decided that I would go forward in any direction that resulted. It had been our practice for Susan and I to do what we felt we were being “led” to do. Although it's certainly not a very scientific approach, we have always tried to pray to God, asking for direction, and then trust that somehow things would work out the way that they were “meant to be”. Sometimes we are not sure exactly why certain doors or paths appear, but that is what makes the journey an interesting one. Rabbi Richman paused and then told us that there was a ceremony happening the following day, with people (non-Jews like Susan and me) who were going to take a Noachide Oath before a beit den of the newly formed Sanhedrin. A number of thoughts came into my mind. Why is he telling me about this? This is an oath to be a Gentile, isn't it? Rabbi Richman and I had been talking for over four years. We discussed the return and redemption of the northern kingdom of Israel (the Lost Ten Tribes). He was well aware of my thesis and he had read my book. If the northern kingdom was to return from exile, they would need to be united with Judah … and not become Gentiles, wouldn't they? This seemed like a step backward. I paused and then simply asked “Aren't Noachides Gentiles?” Rabbi Richman responded by saying, “Even Jews are Noachides”. I then asked, “Can anyone take the oath?” The rabbi said that anyone who is agreeing to live their life according to the seven Noachide laws could take the oath. “Could we take the oath?”, I asked. He said that he felt that he could arrange it. I believe that we were contacted the next day with the specific address of the small synagogue where the ceremony would be held. The next day at the ceremony, Susan and I (along with three other people from the states) were each asked to tell a little bit about what brought us to this point in our lives. I can not remember what I said. How do you adequately explain what experiences in your life lead you down the paths you take? I remember that I had said something short and unimpressive. There were 11 rabbis from the Sanhedrin present and the ceremony seemed to be a work in progress as we proceeded. This was the second time that this type ceremony had taken place. The first time (a year earlier) there were ten people who took the oath. After arriving home we began to receive e-mails from people upset with us for taking the oath.  They claimed that they were "real" Noachides and we were not. .......... Converting .............