Flashback Friday

The current Mrs. Blythe and I wed on a beautiful day in June. The following reception pics were taken by someone other than myself, and can't remember who they were. I will do the best I can to come up with the correct names and possibly relate a story or two about the day. We were wed at the Seaton Presbyterian Church and then cocktails at home for our local friends. After that we headed over to the Oak View Country Club for the reception.

Sadly, all three ladies pictured are no longer with us. Jan Guenther on the left, my Mother Marj and my Aunt Gladys on the right. That's little Eddie, son of Eddie, grand son of Ed in the foreground.

The Aldermans (Alan and Sandy), Susan and Terry Boone, and Randy and Tanny Storm

The Medinas (Rose and Greg) and the Tappers (Marilyn and Alan)

John Seaton, Mary and Homer Rickey and Ila Mae Keilman

The deal is sealed, now time to relax.

No doubt explaining why I flubbed my lines. All I remember is the nauseating feeling not able to repeat the Reverend's words back to him and that long pleading stare into each other's eyes. Also, the flowers the current Mrs. Blythe. Looked like they were in a hurricane, with the shaking going on.

May I present, Mr. and Mrs. Blythe, now let's eat!

Yeah, I wore socks. I was somewhat known for not wearing socks back in those days. Just didn't like em. Sprayed my ankles black with spray paint until I was found out, then they issued a new policy at the Mary Davis Home.

Howdy everyone. Boy do I wish I could escape. But I see you guys have all the exits guarded.

Ah. Ain't that sweet? Just to the left of the current Mrs. Blythe in the background is my Wombie Mark snapping a picture.

Times sure have changed, and for the better. We shut down the Club and then winded around Mercer County in a drunken caravan finding bars open before going home at 2:00 am. I remember several cars following us and having a grand old time. Today such drinking and driving would be inexcusable, but in those days it was all part of the grand plan. Likely that if we would have been pulled over a quick call to the local county sheriff would have exulted in a pass and possible escort home.

There are more reception pictures and we'll get around to them at some point. So stay tuned.

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Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless. Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001. It was one of those things that can generate crime: two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job. Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things. Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold. But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find. His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead. He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds. He will be paralyzed for life. None of this is pleasant. Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant

Summer Swim

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Florida Air Museum - Part 3

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Existing In BFE

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