On September 9, 2009 I posted a personal blog entitled "Obstacles and Pinnacles". There was some exception taken to this writing and, upon reflection, I understand why. I deleted the blog and now make public apology for any misunderstanding that the blog may have created. Below is my letter of apology. 
Kansas Board Of Cosmetology
Attention: Mary Lou Davis
714 SW Jackson Street
Suite 100
Independence, Kansas 67301

Dear Ms. Davis and Fellow Board Members,

On September 9th, 2009 I wrote a personal blog and posted it on my MySpace.Com page. The title of the blog was “Obstacles and Pinnacles”. The blog not only announced my appointment to the board but also expressed my own personal feelings about how I felt about the representation my industry has had on the board for the past 14 years. I related conversations and events as I recalled them. The blog was in no way intended to shed a disparaging light upon the board.

On October 20, 2009 Board Director, Mary Lou Davis, sent me an inquiry regarding the blog via email stating that she had found several inaccuracies with the content of the blog. I did not see this email until October 30, 2009. As I have stated the events and conversations I related in my personal blog were from my own personal remembrances. I reread the blog and decided that due to my new position upon the board that I should have been a little more discerning in what I had wrote. I deleted the blog and sent Ms. Davis an email informing her of same and apologized for any misunderstandings. I also feel that it is important that I make public apology to the Board for whatever may have been perceived from the blog.

It was not my intention to suggest or in any other way imply that the Kansas Board of Cosmetology does not do it’s job. On the contrary I feel that the board does a good job considering the numerous restrictions that at times limits their ability to act. The opinions and the statements listed in my personal blog are strictly and solely my personal view and in no way are they intended nor meant to express the view and the opinions of the Kansas Board of Cosmetology. I am proud to serve on the Board and look forward to being able to assist, promote and serve not only the people of my industry but also the people of Kansas. This is a new experience for me and I am just now learning the proper protocols regarding my position. I ask the boards indulgence and forgiveness for any misunderstanding’s my blog may have caused. I will strive to do my job and honor my position to the utmost of my abilities.

Sincerely

James A. George

     

As I sit here watching the words appear upon the screen of my laptop I have to ask myself; Does life imitate art or does art imitate life?

I remember drawing a man walking in space. I carefully rendered the image with my 6 year old hand upon the manila paper with the fat crayons. I remember getting a Dixie cup full of water and dipping my paint brush into the clear liquid. I moistened the small pat of blue paint and soaked my brush with the azure liquid. I rinsed the brush in the water turning it light blue. Dip, moisten, rinse, dip, moisten, rinse until I was satisfied with the shade of blue within the cup. I then started brushing the diluted water color across the surface of the paper; back and forth, forth and back I went until the large sheet of paper was covered. Years later I would learn that this was called a “Wash” but on that day I was just was trying something new.

Did I know that I was suppose to do this or did someone tell me how to do it? The sands of time have coated my memory and fogged my vision. What I do remember is my first grade teacher, Miss Pyle, making a big deal out of it. I remember the picture being on display in the school hallway for a long time. I remember my Mother and Grandmother excitedly telling me that my picture won at State. I did not understand what that meant but they were excited and happy so I acted excited and happy too. I remember a newspaper reporter with a big camera taking my photo and asking me how it felt to know that I was the number one artist in my age group in the country. I remember two years later when the same reporter asked me; “How did you know two years ago that man would walk in space?” I remember my Mother and Grandmother being so proud that my simple picture was on display in the Smithsonian Institution. I remember asking, “What’s a Smithsonian?”

My Mother once looked at me and said; “I don’t trust you, when I am old you will put me into a nursing home and leave me there to die.” I argued that I would never do that and that if she ever did need to be in a nursing home I would not abandon her and just “Leave Her To Die”. She did not believe me and said, “Your sister will take care of me, unlike you.” I told her, with as much conviction as my 15 year old mouth could muster, “Pat will not take care of you but I will.” When the time came Pat did not take care of her… I did.

How did I know Man would walk in Space? How did I know my Mom would need me one day? I have known these things and so much more about my life. I once heard it said that life is a canvas upon which an unfinished painting resides. No one knows what the next brush stroke may bring. But within my life the canvas is not unfinished, I know what the next brush stroke will be and where I will put it.

I cannot tell you why or how that I know what the painting of my life will be I just know that it is. Sometimes it weighs heavy on me, this knowing. I often feel like that Astronaut, coupled to his capsule by a thin life line as the void of space beckons. He cannot be distracted by the darkness around him, he must forever keep his eye on that silver metal life raft which floats high above the planet of his birth. Some day the space man will re-enter his capsule, secure the hatch and plummet at a 185 miles per hour like a shooting star back from whence he came. But today he will not fall back to earth, today he shall live in a crayon Universe and swim in a wash of blue in manila space.

-The GYPSY-         

I wish that you knew the countryside in all it's wondrous grace.
I wish you knew what it is like to have the hawk fly by,
Along your side as you hug the road your companion of the sky.

Can you feel the land around you do you know it's name.
Closed inside your steel cage your world remains the same.
But out here on the great byway where you become one with the road,
Two wheels carry me away from my unrealities and remove all my heavy load.

I wish that you could ride with me and feel the wind on your face.
The battles fought, the war is won and I've overcome the human race.

Copyright 2009 Tatman Productions LLC

Sometimes I Forget Sometimes I forget that what I do is different
Sometimes I forget what to me is not apparent
Sometimes I forget that people look forward
Sometimes I forget what people look toward

Sometimes to me it’s just another day
Sometimes to me my work is just play
Sometimes to me people are just objects
Sometimes to me I work from my instincts

Sometimes my arrogance fails to see the person
Sometimes my schedule precludes the reason
Sometimes my day is get them in and back out
Sometimes my ears hear but not what it’s about

Sometimes you remind me how excited you are
Sometimes you travel to me and have to drive far
Sometimes you get me to see more than the art
Sometimes you show me we are not far apart

Sometimes there is joy in your anticipation
Sometimes there is giddiness in your elation
Sometimes there is a smile or sigh of relief
Sometimes there is amazement and disbelief

Sometimes I forget and in my rush I may stumble
Sometimes I get reminded becoming very humble

 _________________________________________


Yesterday a lady came into my studio and made an appointment to see me. Today she returned with a design that someone had drawn for her. It was a simple design, three feathers hanging down from a partial barbwire. The design was plain and not complicated. I went through my usual motions; give the client the paperwork, create the stencil and consult with the client. I then do what I always do when the consultation and paperwork is done… I let the client know how much they owe for the tattoo.

The lady was as simple as the design she wanted tattooed on her forearm. She became disconcerted stating that she had only brought a hundred with her. She turned to her daughter, who had came with her, and asked to borrow ten dollars. I mechanically took the money she had meticulously counted out onto the display case, five twenties and two fives. I rang it up in my register and headed to the tattoo room to set up for the artwork that was soon to come.

The lady sat down in my chair, animated and happy. Talking away about the design I would soon place into her skin. She asked my opinion of the design and I told her it was a nice design and would look good on her. She laughed and said, “Good thing I am not any smaller it would wrap around my arm.” I nodded and agreed she was small. I finished prepping her skin and began my work.

I was about half way through the tattoo and was half listening to this lady as she talked to her daughter about what I was doing to her. My mind was wondering, thinking about those things that preoccupy us all, bills, family, life in general and that is when it happened. The lady looked down at the design I was busy applying and smiling a toothy smile said, “I have been awake all night. I couldn’t sleep last night I was so excited. I haven’t had a tattoo in 18 years. You are doing a great job. I’m glad I saved my money for this.” I told the lady thank you and returned her smile but inside I shrank and felt a pang of shame pass through me.

For this lady I was the biggest thing in her day and maybe even her week. She had saved her money and had drove twenty five miles to see me (50 miles round trip), not once but twice. One time to make the appointment and the other time to get the tattoo done. One hundred and ten dollars was a lot of money to this lady and she had offered it to me to create a piece of personal art for her and I took her efforts and anticipation for granted. For me it was just another day, one more client and business as usual. But for her it was everything.

Sometimes I forget that I am here for the client, they are not here for me. Sometimes I have to be reminded of what my place is. Sometimes I need my ego deflated. Sometimes I need to be humbled. On this day a simple lady, with her simple design reminded me what it is all about with her simple words.

I’ll try to remember to be humble and hopefully if I again get too full of myself God will once more send me a simple messenger like he did today because sometimes I forget.

-The GYPSY-
www.ubtat2d.com

*Copyright 2009 Tatman
Productions LLC: All parts copyrighted. Copying or reprinting of
copyrighted material is expressly forbidden by law, is an infringement
of intellectual rights. No parts of the text or pictures may be used in
any form without the express written permission of the author/owner. We
actively pursue any violation of our
copyright including unauthorized reproduction and plagurism and we will seek civil and criminal penalties against the violator.

PLEASE NOTE: THE FOLLOWING BLOG WILL BE POSTED IN SEVERAL PARTS AS THE EVENTS THAT IT COVERS TAKE PLACE OVER SEVERAL WEEKS. TO POST THE WHOLE BLOG AT ONE TIME WOULD MAKE IT ONE OF THE LONGEST BLOGS EVER WRITTEN ON MYSPACE. SO PLEASE BE PATIENT AS IT WILL TAKE SEVERAL DAYS TO COMPLETELY TELL THIS STORY. THIS IS PART TWO.

Each day that Debbie has to get up and go to work is like self mutilation for her. The girls snide and superior attitude worsens. The Boss and the girl both treat Debbie like she is an idiot. The Boss ignores mistakes the girl makes but berates Debbie for mistakes she makes. “These are things you should already know” he says in one breath then in the next breath he says, “I have to remind myself that you have only been doing this a year and still have things to learn.” The mixed signals and disrespect are taking there toll on Debbie. I have had enough and I transfer our insurance coverage back to Shelter Insurance who I had done business with for over 18 years before Debbie started work at Farm Bureau. Debbie’s Boss leaves on a trip to England that he won based on the Insurance sales that his office generated. He gives no thought to the fact that it was the hard work of Debbie that won him that trip. He gives all the credit to the girl. For the week he is gone things are quite in the office. Debbie does her job and the girl stays out of her business. On the day the Boss is to return all hell breaks loose. Debbie comes into the office to be confronted by the girl. “There was something wrong with my account,” she says, “so I went into your account to see if you were having problems too. Why did you move all your insurance?” Debbie looks at her dumbfounded. The girl had no business in Debbie’s account. Debbie finally looses her temper, “That’s none of your Fucking business.” Debbie tells her. The girl states that it is her business and that if Debbie does not tell her Boss she will. When Debbie’s Boss comes in she tells him and he gets angry stating, “That’s the biggest insult to an agent to pull your insurance.” He goes storming out of the office. It is apparent to Debbie that the girl had already knew about the insurance transfer and saved her attack until the day the Boss returned from his trip so that Debbie would be upset and distressed when he came into the office. That evening after the office closes Debbie and her Boss have a meeting. She again tries to get him to understand what the girl is doing and he refuses to see it. He then offers Debbie her same job doing what she has already been doing for over a year. He calls it “Entry Level Clerical” at 37% less pay than what she already is making. Debbie points out her years of experience and that she is a licensed insurance agent not an “Entry Level Clerk”. She also asks, “If you find things tense around the office now how do you think reducing my pay, expecting me to do the same work and making the girl my boss will make it less stressful in the office?” He has no answer but instead changes the subject asking, “Why did you move your insurance?” Debbie tells him that I did not appreciate the disrespect that he has allowed towards her so I moved the insurance. She tells her Boss that I did not want to do business with someone who allow someone else to disrespect her. Debbie’s Boss says, “Well if that’s the way you feel turn in your key and go down the road and find someone that will respect you.” Debbie hands him her key and tells him that she thinks the girl has instigated this situation to clear the way for a family member or friend of hers to take Debbie’s job. The Boss says he don’t see that. He thanks Debbie for all her hard work and everything she done for him over the past year as he escorts her out the door. He has forgotten that when Debbie started he was desperate for help and that she baled him out of a tight spot. It is my opinion that the only tight spot he now has on his mind is the girls cleavage and the v between her legs.

I put an “Out To Lunch” sign in the window, grab Debbie and head for Pittsburg, Kansas. My thought is that if we cannot live in the RV then we will put a modular home on the property, which it is zoned for. Our original idea of living at the lake is no longer practical. We have 5 small life’s to be concerned with and we must meet their needs as well as our own. It is not our 3 dogs and 2 cats fault that we are in our current situation and they should not suffer for the decisions we have made. We took on the responsibility of giving them a home, love and care and we must take that into consideration when making any further decisions. The lots are perfect for us and our animals so placing a modular home on the lots is the most logical thing to do. A modular home placed on our land will increase it’s resale value later on and give us a nice home to live in. Debbie and I talked about our options and what we would do on the 50 mile trip to Pittsburg. We arrive at Modern Home Center and explain our situation to the salesman. He is sympathetic and shows us a home that they have on the lot that is 48’ x 28’, this is within zoning codes. It is a nice home and we start the paperwork on it. Debbie and I return to Independence feeling a little better. 

Debbie files for unemployment and finds out that her former Boss, though he said he would not protest it has indeed protested. A phone hearing is scheduled for 30 days from the day Debbie filed. She is entitled to $220.00 a week but because of the protest she will not receive anything until after the hearing. Even then if the review board finds against her she will receive none of the money she is entitled to. We attend Mayfit at Biker Park in Pawhuska, Oklahoma and one of my clients tells Debbie she should contact the EEOC (Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and file suit against her former boss for wrongful termination. When we return from Pawhuska Debbie contacts the EEOC and they advise her to contact the KEEOC (Kansas Equal Employment Opportunity Commission). The KEEOC informs Debbie that she has a case for age discrimination and wrongful termination. They send her a large questionnaire and instruct her to recreate a timeline of events.

I receive a call from the salesman at Modern Home Center who informs me that US Bank has approved our loan but we will have to pay 10% down and the Fixed APR will be 9.9%. I tell the salesman that I find that a little steep and ask if we have time to find a lower rate. The salesman assures me that the loan offer will stand for 60 days so I start looking for a lower rate. Our Credit Union informs me that they do not make loans on Modular Homes. I check with another Credit Union who informs me that they do make loans on Modular Homes but they must already be on a permanent foundation. “If you want to get the Modular Home”, I’m told, “And place it on a permanent foundation then we can help you with the loan for it.” They must be related to the City Building Inspector. I decide to check with the Bank where Debbie and I keep our savings. We spend quite a while there speaking with a loan officer that takes the time to outline all of our options. When we leave the bank we have come to the conclusion that our best course of action is to let US Bank finance the Modular home then after we close we will have First National Bank refinance the home at a lower rate. Now that we have a plan of action I order the extra rock delivered to the lots that we will need for the foundation pad. I instruct the contractor not to deliver the rock until I call because I have to move our 5th Wheel RV out of the way so that the delivered rock can be spread. I return home from work that evening to find that the rock has been delivered and the RV is now completely blocked in.

The day that the final papers are to be signed on the sale of our home the Realtor calls to tell me that the payoff to the Mortgage Company came back higher than the original figure that the estimates were based on and that we will be getting $2,000.00 less than we had been originally told we would receive. This now puts us into a tight situation and we decide to cancel our vacation plans. We had been planning to take a vacation for months. In the almost 12 years Debbie and I have been together we have never had a vacation. This would have been our first. We had planned to attend the High School graduation ceremonies of Debbie’s twins in Austin, Texas then spend a week touring Texas. Instead our plans have been reduced by this turn of events into just going to the Graduation then returning home. We sign the final contracts on our house with feelings of trepidation. We cannot get our check because the couple who is buying our home bank is in Florida and the bank is closed. Our Realtor assures us that she will pick up the check the next day and put it into our bank account for us. Early the next morning we head for Austin, Texas. 

(TO BE CONTINUED)

PLEASE NOTE: THE FOLLOWING BLOG WILL BE POSTED IN SEVERAL PARTS AS THE EVENTS THAT IT COVERS TAKE PLACE OVER SEVERAL WEEKS. TO POST THE WHOLE BLOG AT ONE TIME WOULD MAKE IT ONE OF THE LONGEST BLOGS EVER WRITTEN ON MYSPACE. SO PLEASE BE PATIENT AS IT WILL TAKE SEVERAL DAYS TO COMPLETELY TELL THIS STORY.

Zookeepers hate people! It’s not that they dislike people they truly hate people. Zookeepers find most people ignorant and without merit. Now you may ask yourself; “What do I care what a poop scooper thinks?” And if Zookeepers were merely “Poop Scoopers” then that would be a legitimate question but the truth of the matter is Zookeepers are highly intelligent individuals. Most have a higher education and have a unique understanding of animal behaviors and psyche. This insight into animal behavior patterns gives them a keen eye in observation which is honed to a fine edge. Because they can so closely observe and analyze the behavior, moods and characteristics of their captive charges they, the Zookeepers, are able to keenly analyze the behavior, moods and characteristics of their non-captive charges… The general public. Most Zookeepers feel that the wrong animals are kept captive.

I was a Zookeeper I hate people. I find most people ignorant and without merit. I find their reasoning lacking and their mentality petty and warped. Now before you pull out the pitchforks and torches let me expound on this subject a little further.

As most know we, my wife and I, have been embarked upon a course, for the past year, to free ourselves from all debt. Each step of this process has been illustrated in previous writings entitled; Phase One, Phase Two, Phase Three. I related our progression as we traveled down the “Road To Freedom” getting ever closer to our goal. Well now, with the end of the road insight, we have had a roadblock placed before us. It is the proverbial “Fly In The Ointment”, “Broken Spoke”, “Monkey Wrench In The Works” or any other expression you may wish to add to our dilemma. In short it has become a prime example of “The Best Laid Plans Of Mice and Men…”

To understand what has happened we need to climb into our DeLorean, engage our flux capacitor and travel back in time to that ancient period known as August 2008. Two things happened at that time that would play a major roll in current events. The first thing that happened was Debbie and I purchased to very nice tree covered lots in a blue collar neighborhood in the town where we live, Independence, Kansas. It was our original intention to use the lots as storage for our RV. We had also decided to place a storage shed on the property and a large dog kennel. The idea was that during the day our three dogs could hang out in comfort on the lots then at night return with us to Elk City State Park where we would be living in our RV.

The second thing that transpired was that Debbie, who at the time was an office manager at Farm Bureau Financial services advised her Boss to hire a girl who seemed really enthusiastic about selling insurance. Debbie’s Boss was on the fence about hiring this girl but Debbie urged him to give her a chance. It would prove to be one of the biggest errors in judgment that Debbie had ever made.

Let us now travel back to the future to see what impact this two seemly unrelated events and the people that would become involved in them had on our planned, “Road To Freedom”.

Over time we decided that it was foolish to put out money to live in a State park when we had to perfectly good lots that we could modify and live on in our RV.

The girl that Debbie’s Boss hired proved to be as enthusiastic as she had appeared to be and dove right into the work.

We started improving the property, clearing brush and laying fence.

The girl started to annoy Debbie as she started missing excessive amounts of work days, usually a Monday or Friday and always with the same excuse; “My son is sick.”

Work continued on the lots and then one day we got a sweet deal on a travel trailer from a car lot that was going out of business. The new travel trailer would be used as our mobile unit and our current mobile facility, which is very large, would become our residence.

One day Debbie’s Boss asked her opinion on the girls excessive absences from work. Debbie voiced her concerns and her Boss said he agreed and that something would have to be done. Three days later Debbie arrives at the office to find that her Boss is already there. He usually did not arrive until a half hour after Debbie did. She figures that he came in early to talk with the girl about her excessive absence’s since the girl always arrived at least a half hour before the Boss. The next day, a Friday, the girl again does not show for work because her “Son is Sick”. Debbie’s Boss casually dismisses the absence stating, “I remember those days when you had children who would get sick and you had to miss work.” Debbie is dumbfounded by this sudden change in attitude. The girl also stops calling Debbie to inform her when she will be absent and now calls Debbie’s Boss instead.

Our house, after almost a year on the market, finally receives an offer. It is below what we wanted and we will have to make some concessions but we will at least show a small profit and it will get us out from under that expense. I contract to have rock brought into our lots for driveways. I order a large lofted barn for storage and contract to have plumbing and electricity ran on the lots. We start the momentous task of sorting our belongings and deciding what we will keep and what will be sold in a massive yard sale. After all you don’t need dust collectors if you are living in an RV.

The girl starts being rude to Debbie and making snide remarks whenever the Boss is not around. Debbie also suspects that she is running to the Boss and reporting every little thing Debbie does or says. Debbie tries to talk to her Boss about all of it on numerous occasions but each time he turns it back on Debbie telling her that she will just have to get along with the girl because, “She makes me money.”

As we are trying to get the things done on our lots we are being delayed by 21 straight days of rain. We can’t finish the drives and we can’t have the barn delivered because the ground is saturated. Time is running out and if the weather doesn’t break soon we will be in deep trouble. We need a week of sunshine to at least dry the ground out a little so that we can complete the tasks we have to complete. Meanwhile life goes on and I must run the studio, do my road shows and take care of business as usual.

The girl starts hanging over Debbie’s shoulder and checking her work. She starts treating Debbie like an idiot and makes it a point to say things loudly, so that the Boss can hear it in his office, that makes it seem like Debbie is messing everything up that she does. Debbie talks to her Boss about this and he tells her to just talk to the girl and tell her what she expects of her. The Boss leaves the office so that Debbie can talk to her, it is a disaster. Debbie asks the girl to leave her work alone and quit hanging over her shoulder. The girl responds by calling Debbie “Miserable and Pathetic” saying she feels sorry for her. The girl continues to belittle and disrespect Debbie and all Debbie can do is sit dumbfounded as the attack continues. When the Boss returns Debbie has a private meeting with him to tell him what happened. Her Boss states that he has not seen the girl disrespect Debbie. Debbie counters with; “Because she does it when you’re not around.” Then her Boss says; “You need to get along with her because she is going to be your Boss. Debbie with 35 years experience in Clerical work has just been told that a girl half her age with only 8 month experience is going to be her Boss. It was the ultimate slap in the face.

The weather breaks and we get the drives laid and the Barn placed. The yard sale is a huge success and we literally sell almost everything we own. What is left we donate to the Community Closet and place the few pieces of furniture we have left on consignment at a second hand store. During this whole process we have never made any secret about what our ultimate plans were. I had even mentioned it to the City Building Inspector when we got the building permit for the barn. I take the RV that we will be living in down to Bartlesville, Oklahoma to have repairs made before we move into it. When we bring the RV back to our lots to place it, it sinks along with my truck, into the ground. We have to have it towed out.

Debbie becomes determined to just do her job and not say anything personal at work. Debbie now hates the job she once loved. The girl constantly says “Fabulous” whenever the urge hits her and each time she says it Debbie suppresses the urge to shove the word back down the girls throat. Debbie’s Boss who once told her, “I don’t want to be your Boss I want us to be partners” not only does not act like a partner but now barely speaks to her. When he does speak to her he acts like it is an imposition to do so. He spends most of his time in the office sitting at the girls desk Bull Shitting with her.

The RV is leveled and hooked up to utilities, at least the utilities that it can be hooked up to. The city building inspector has not signed off on the electrical hook-ups yet and the utility company will not install the meter nor hook the line until he does. I go up to city hall to find out why. That is when I find out that the city has decided that our lot is not zoned for our RV and that we cannot live on our own land in the RV. The building inspector informs me that the RV can remain on the lot hooked up to utilities but that if we live in it we are in violation of city code. I ask, “What sense does that make? We can have the RV on our lot hooked to utilities but we can’t live in it? Is that in anyway shape or form logical? And exactly what gives the city the right to say what I can and cannot do with my own property?” Of course he has no answer. He then informs me that he thinks there is a problem with the electric installation, which I might add was installed by a licensed and bonded electrical contractor that has been in business for over 30 years and has a very good reputation in this region, and that he will not be able to sign off on the work until the problem is addressed. I leave city hall pissed and determined.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

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This blog is not about me, it is about something larger
than any of us. We all post Blogs to inform or put forth our individual
opinions about one thing or another. We write long disertations and
hope that somehow, someway we will touch someone and they might agree
with us or appreciate what we have laid down. But once in a while it is
best just to shut up and let the blog speak for it self. If a picture
paints a thousand words then the following photo essay would fill a
library.




GOD BLESS AMERICA AND THOSE WHO HAVE GIVEN THEIR LIFES FOR THEIR COUNTRY AND TO KEEP US FREE!





 















































TO MY HERO'S;


Hero's are normal people who have done something not
expected of them. Every Soldier/Sailor that has ever worn a uniform to
serve his country is a hero. Without them we would not be able to live
as free Americans. My hero's are any Soldier that is true to the Army
values.


Sincerely


-CODY CARVER- 24 SEPTEMBER 2007





























Parents of Cody Carver: Darrel and Pamela Carver


Photos by The GYPSY taken at Capital City Motorcycle Show Topeka, Kansas March 21, 2009

I wander cemeteries. Not because I am a ghoul but
because there is art within the peaceful gardens of the graveyard and I
want to capture it. I have an ongoing project that I have labeled,
"Mansions of the Dead" which is a photo diary of cemeteries from around
the world. I have visited a lot of memorial gardens and taken a lot of
photos of grand grave markers but none were ever as grand as three that I photographed on April 10, 2009.

I strolled through the Madison, Kansas cemetery photographing stones that I found interesting and artistic when I spotted the three crosses at the back of the small graveyard. Working my way through the stones the three crosses drew me in like a magnet attacks a piece of metal. These were not high dollar granite or marble crosses; these were the simplest of all memorials, wooden crosses. They sat alone, separated from other graves by an old dirt cemetery road. Though within just a few feet of expensive memorials to others that had passed they may as well had been separated by a river as wide as the Amazon.


The first cross, white washed white, proclaimed in blue hand painted lettering: "Tomas DeLaTorre Born DEC. 21 1897 DiED FEB 11 1984 WE LOVE YOU"



The second cross mimicking and of the same size as the first cross stated: "MRS NICHOLASA H. DELATORRE BORN FEB 3 1898 DIED APRIL 24 1939"



The last cross though white washed and hand lettered in
blue like the other two was considerably smaller than its neighbors.
Upon its face it offered: "ANTONIA DELATORRE BORN FEB 9 1939 DIED FEB 15 1939"



Mr. Delatorre lived for 87 years, 1 month and 21 days.
Mrs. Delatorre lived for 41 years, 2 months and 21 days. Little Antonia
lived for only 6 days. I surveyed the graves noticing and wondering
about the connections between the three graves. Each one of the people
whose bodies rested beneath the crosses had a connection to the month
of February. Both Mister and Missus Delatorre died 21 days into the
last month of their lives. But those things were not what caught my
attention the most. What caught my attention was that Mother had died
only 2 months and 9 days after her baby had died and I wondered what
the story was for this family.

Did the mother die of a broken heart or did she succumb to some disease that the baby may also have had. Did she commit suicide or was she just not very healthy and the effort of child birth took its toll on her physically. Was the baby born with a birth defect or was it just too weak to survive. What of Mr. Delatorre, who survived his wife by 44 years, 9 months and 18 days. Did he remarry and if so where was his second wife buried or did he remain unmarried forever mourning the loss of the woman he loved and the child they lost.

As I pondered these things I took a step back to get a better photo of the three crosses and I tripped over a grave vault behind me. Grave vaults are common in Kansas the above ground rounded granite concealing the coffin beneath. I looked down at the Brass plaque on the high dollar vault; it belonged to a Jewish gentleman who had died the same year as Mrs. Delatorre and her child. There was no grave on the right of him or on the left. He rested in his expensive resting place, alone and forgotten. I looked back across the road at the Delatorre crosses and back down at Mr. Weinschneider's vault and at that moment I knew what was true.

For all of Mr. Weinschneider's money, buying a top of the line eternal resting place for his body he still never had half as much as the Delatorre family. The Delatorre's rest together for eternity while Mr. Weinschneider rests alone. The Delatorre's were richer in life and death than Mr. Weinschneider ever was. Perhaps in the afterlife the Delatorre’s have met up with Mr. Weinschneider and shared some of their wealth. For within those three crosses are the greatest wealth of all, Love! The testament to that continued love that has transcended death is that someone still tends the Delatorre’s grave site while Mr. Weinschneider's grave site remains cold and untended.

Rest in peace Tomas, Nicholasa, and Antonia Delatorre and may you also have peace Mr. Weinschneider, rest in peace.

-The GYPSY- 


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