Joy Neal Kidney's Blog, page 23

An Unconventional Devotional by Jason Sautel

Jesus is All We Need

In a world where we often seek security in all the wrong places, “Jesus Is All We Need: Devotions to Experience the Rescuing Love of God” offers a compelling and transformative perspective. Renowned former firefighter, Jason Sautel, takes you on a profound devotional journey to uncover a love that will rescue and never fail.

As we expend ourselves searching for safety in family, politics, achievement, wealth, and relationships, we eventually discover the futility of these pursuits. It’s then that we realize our deep need for a true Rescuer. Through this daily devotional, Jason Sautel shares his personal journey and invites you to find refuge in the one place where genuine safety is found―the unwavering, rescuing arms of God.

My review: Jason Sautel’s stories are a beacon of light for believers and seekers alike. He shares verse after verse through his life experiences. With his own humble and relatable style, he shares his own missteps and foibles, but also what the Lord has done in his life. His dogs, Daisy Mae and Gronk, even show up in one of these priceless devotions.

If you’d like a devotional that’s very relatable, this one’s a real treasure.

The Author

Jason Sautel spent much of his early adulthood as a decorated firefighter in one of the toughest firehouses in the county and now shares Christ-centered stories from his time there to his large Facebook audience. He loves his wife, Kristie, his four two-legged children, his two four-legged children, and he appreciates God’s gifts of donuts, surfing, and Maui.

I featured Jason’s compelling memoir earlier, The Rescuer: One Firefighter’s Story of Courage, Darkness, and the Relentless Love That Saved Him.

You might like to follow him on Facebook or LinkedIn.

What if Dan Wilson’s P-38 had Crashed Nearer Vienna?

Source: Austria Occupation Zones 1945-55.                   svg: Master Uegly (talk · contribs)derivative work: Hanzlan (talk) – Austria Occupation Zones 1945-55.svg, CC BY-SA 4.0

After the end of World War II in 1945, Nazi-occupied Austria was restored to its 1937 frontiers and divided by the victorious allies – the USA, the Soviet Union, the UK, and France – for a decade.

The day Dan Wilson was MIA, February 19, 1945, his fighter plane was lost at Schwanberg, Austria, then held by the Germans. When Austria was divided after the war, Styria (which included Schwanberg) was occupied by the British.

A British Graves Registration Team at Klagenfurt, Austria, first learned where Lt. Daniel S. Wilson had been buried at Schwanberg was in late November, 1945, from captured Dulag Luft (German) records and reported it to the Americans. An American Graves Registration team removed his remains to France in 1946.

Dan Wilson’s missions had included Vienna, in Eastern Austria. If his P-38 had been lost in that area, which became part of the Soviet occupation, his whereabouts might not have been known for years.

Lt. Henry D. Mitchell, a P-38 pilot from the same fighter group, was lost a few weeks before Dan Wilson arrived in Italy. His remains were not finally accounted for until 2021.

Because Germany was also divided after the war, relatives of those who fell in East Germany were not allowed to learn what happened until decades later. Here’s the poignant story of a P-51 pilot who went down in an area of East Germany.

Dan Wilson also flew missions over Yugoslavia. This is a 15th AF photo of P-38s in formation over Yugoslavia.

Dan Wilson’s story is told in What Leora Never Knew: A Granddaughter’s Quest for Answers.

Austria Occupation Zones 1945-1955

Source: Austria Occupation Zones 1945-55.svg: Master Uegly (talk · contribs)derivative work: Hanzlan (talk) – Austria Occupation Zones 1945-55.svg, CC BY-SA 4.0

After the end of World War II in 1945, Nazi-occupied Austria was restored to its 1937 frontiers and divided by the victorious allies – the USA, the Soviet Union, the UK, and France – for a decade.

The day Dan Wilson was MIA, February 19, 1945, his fighter plane was lost at Schwanberg, Austria, then held by the Germans. When Austria was divided after the war, Styria (which included Schwanberg) was occupied by the British.

A British Graves Registration Team at Klagenfurt, Austria, first learned where Lt. Daniel S. Wilson had been buried at Schwanberg was in late November, 1945, from captured Dulag Luft (German) records and reported it to the Americans. An American Graves Registration team removed his remains to France in 1946.

Dan Wilson’s missions had included Vienna, in Eastern Austria. If his P-38 had been lost in that area, which became part of the Soviet occupation, his whereabouts might not have been known for years.

Lt. Henry D. Mitchell, a P-38 pilot from the same fighter group, was lost a few weeks before Dan Wilson arrived in Italy. His remains were not finally accounted for until 2021.

Because Germany was also divided after the war, relatives of those who fell in East Germany were not allowed to learn what happened until decades later. Here’s the poignant story of a P-51 pilot who went down in an area of East Germany.

Dan Wilson also flew missions over Yugoslavia. This is a 15th AF photo of P-38s in formation over Yugoslavia.

Dan Wilson’s story is told in What Leora Never Knew: A Granddaughter’s Quest for Answers.

Daniel S. Wilson on the ADM Wall of Honor

The ADM Alumni Association would like to honor those alumni that were killed in action. We appreciate everything that they gave so that we may live with our freedoms.

ADM stands for Adel-DeSoto-Minburn, a school system of these Dallas County towns in Iowa. It includes the Washington Township School just west of Minburn, where Dan Wilson graduated in 1941. He was the class valedictorian.

The ADM Wall of Honor recognizes graduates who have been Killed in Action. Each of these posters is on a wall in the high school at Adel, Iowa.

Daniel S. Wilson, Washington Township Class of 1941 –2nd Lieutenant, U.S. Army Air Forces, 37th Fighter Squadron, 14th Fighter Group.  KIA February 19, 1945.  Buried at Plot D Row 5 Grave 7, Lorraine American Cemetery, St. Avold, France.

This link will take you to a more readable poster on the ADM Alumni Association website.

The Crash of Lt. Dan Wilson’s P-38 is part of the History of Schwanberg, Austria

Lt. Dan Wilson was Killed in Action February 19, 1945, at Schwanberg, Austria. The crash is recorded in the town history, which was sent to me by Mayor Karl Schuster in 1989.

1945   15. [should be 25] Feber: Es fallen Sprengbomben aus englischen Kampfflugzeugen in den Kulmerwald. 6 Tage vorher greifen alliierte Kampfflugzeuge auf dem Schwanberger Bahnhof einen Wehrmachtransport an. Ein Flugzeug sturzt auf den heutigen Sportplatz.

Schwanberg 700 Jahre Markt by Dr. Alois Ircher. An undated history of the city, in German, page 41. Dr. Ircher also wrote that Dan Wilson was not shot down, as we took for granted. He said the plane was so low that it hit a telephone or light pole, and that where the plane fell is now a “sportplatz.” He doesn’t know what the German occupiers did with the remains of the plane.

Translation: 1945 February 15 [sic]: High-explosive bombs fall from English fighter planes in the Kulmerwald. 6 days earlier, Allied fighter planes attacked a Wehrmach transport at the Schwanberg train station. A plane crashes on today’s sports field.

The main mission of the 37th Fighter Squadron, 14th Fighter Group, 15th Air Force that day was was to escort B-24s of the 55th Wing at Bruck, Austria. On their way back to their base at Triolo, Italy, the P-38s were strafing (and an experimental skip-bombing) in the Graz area of Italy.

For more about what happened to Danny Wilson, please see What Leora Never Knew: A Granddaughter’s Quest for Answers.

I Grew Up Without a Bathtub

The big farmhouse I grew up in during the 1950s didn’t have a bathroom, but it also didn’t have an outhouse.

A small room at the top of the stairs held a sink and a chemical toilet that needed emptying from time to time. Dad did that job.

We bathed in the back room, the same one we roller skated in as kids. There was a wood-burning kitchen stove in there, at least at first, and a large sink. We’d stand in a galvanized tub, a big one like Dad used on the farm, and use a pan in the sink to wash with. Rinse water ended up in the big tub, which we upended it to drain in the sink, or Mom did until we were big enough to do it ourselves.

After Dad tore down that rickety house about 1961, we moved temporarily to another house without a bathroom. We used the same sink and galvanized tub arrangement as before, but this had “six rooms and a path,” as Grandma Leora used to put it. The path led to an outhouse. That was my senior year of high school.

I escaped to college, where we had bathrooms with showers, but my folks and sister lived in the temporary house another couple of years. Mom was especially thrilled when they moved into the new mouse-free house with a real bathroom, even a bonus “half bath.”

Those two old houses also didn’t have closets, so the folks bought a couple of wardrobes, which ended up in the attic of the new little house (which has plenty of closets–Mom made sure of that).

One of those old wardrobes has made its way to our 1957 ranch house, since the bedrooms are small and so are the closets. But we do have a bathtub and now a walk-in shower. Hurrah for closets and indoor bathrooms!

Five Fun Facts

1. I grew up without a bathtub.

2. I’ve seen two presidents in person: Truman and Eisenhower.

3. I’m the 4th generation oldest daughter.

4. I was a Cub Scout den mom.

5. I have one grandchild, named Kate, whose motherline reaches into Northern Italy.

Please share 5 fun facts about yourself!

Thanks go Robin Grunder for this idea!

What I’m Reading: All Manner of Things by Susie Finkbeiner

Susie Finkbeiner’s novel, All Manner of Things, is the story of a family struggling to find normalcy after world events cause major rifts. It’s set in small-town Michigan during the Vietnam War not long before my husband was sent to Vietnam. I recognized the music of the era, the bell bottom pants, the troublesome news on black and white TV. 

The story’s narrator is his eighteen-year-old daughter, Anna, on the cusp of deciding what she wants to do with her life. Her best friend heads for college, but Anna doesn’t think it’s a good choice for herself. She works in a cafe, whose owner is an older bachelor who watches out for everyone in a curmudgeonly manner. Anna learns to sort through her deepest thoughts to begin to make choices that reflect the best of who she is, including who to date, and even whether she wants to date. She is contemplative and honest about her uncertainties and heartaches. 

When Anna’s older brother (Mike) enlists as a medic in the Vietnam War, he wants their father (Frank) notified if he doesn’t return. Frank, suffering from the aftermath of the Korean War, left the family a dozen years earlier, causing his wife and four children to question their very importance. 

Both grandmothers live in the area, including their Dutch oma, the cookie baker. The other is Frank’s mother, who gives Mike a medallion of Saint Michael, patron saint of soldiers, to take with him. The medallion had been carried by family members who served in WWII and WWII, as well as Frank in Korea. They all made it home safely. Frank’s mother also has his address, so they decide to contact him to see if he’d return long enough to get reacquainted with his children, a daughter and three sons, one of whom doesn’t remember him. 

His estranged wife, Gloria, is still hurt and angry, having been both father and mother to their kids for a dozen years. Gloria is opinionated, stubborn, and a lousy cook (which I found refreshing), but she reacts so well with her flock, breaking her own “rules” when necessary, such as putting up the aluminum Christmas tree with the rotating color wheel even though it’s only October.

Sometimes it’s easier to say personal things on paper instead of in person, plus they can be saved and savored. Letters from family members to each other are a compelling part of the book. 

It’s a story of living with losses, a family history of running away and not dealing with things, especially important ones. It’s about asking where God is in the midst of the hardest things human beings can experience, holding onto hope even while grieving, pondering that we are indeed meant for eternity.

The Author

Susie Finkbeiner is the CBA bestselling author of The Nature of Small Birds, All Manner of Things — which was selected as a 2020 Michigan Notable Book — and Stories That Bind Us, as well as A Cup of Dust, A Trail of Crumbs, and A Song of Home.

She serves on the Fiction Readers Summit planning committee, volunteers her time at Ada Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and speaks at retreats and women’s events across the country. Susie and her husband have three children and live in West Michigan.

Please check out her website. Susie will be the keynote speaker at the 2024 Cedar Falls Christian Writers Conference in June.

Farmers Daughter Quilt with Flying Geese Border

86″ X 106″

My favorite Farmer’s Daughter Quilt with Flying Geese border was hand pieced and hand quilted with other quilters, 1980-1981.

It was shown in several quilt shows:

1981 – Iowa Quilters Guild, Living History Farms

1982 – Iowa State Fair

1985 – Historic Jordan House

1987 – Jordan House Christmas open house

1991 – Stuart Care Center when Grandma Ruby Neal’s quilts were featured.

During the 1980s, scraps of all those those fabrics became dresses for dozens of clothespin doll Christmas tree ornaments. I still have a few left.

Noah’s Ark Restaurant

Noah’s Ark Ristorante was the first place I tasted pizza, because of a band director, Jack Oatts, and the Bill Riley State Fair Talent Search.

In the early 1960s, this farmer’s daughter watched the Iowa State Fair Talent Search on KRNT-TV nearly every Sunday evening with my parents and sister. Each week a winner was chosen to compete at the Iowa State Fair, where the top prize included money for college.

Bill Riley’s State Fair Talent Search began during my high school years. Because our farm was in Madison County, when the Dexter school underwent reorganization, my sister and I began climbing on an Earlham school bus every morning, along with other former Dexter students.

Jazz saxophonist Jack Oatts was Earlham’s energetic band director who immediately recruited us Dexter kids for the band. In no time he had us playing in the marching band, concert band, stage band, Dixieland bands, and combos.

It wasn’t long before Mr. Oatts also had the school involved in Bill Riley’s statewide talent sweep, which began in 1959.

1960s

He even talked some of us into trying out for a Talent Search, to be held in the auditorium of the Earlham school on January 29, 1962. Three of the acts were chosen for the next level of competition–to be on Bill Riley’s TV show. I played for a Dixieland band that was chosen. That meant getting to go to Des Moines at night. At the KRNT-TV studio we got to watch what happened behind the scenes where Channel 8’s famous locals did their shows. Encouraged even more directly by Bill Riley’s optimism, we nervously taped each program straight through in front of the hot lights and camera.

At the end of the evening, we learned whether or not the judges had chosen us to go on to the next level–the Iowa State Fair.

Either way, afterwards we stopped at Noah’s Ark for the new fad food we’d heard about–pizza. To us rural high schoolers, pizza looked and smelled so exotic. And eating its oddly stringy cheese gracefully was a challenge. Our parents, who did the driving, weren’t as excited about the pizza, but we teenagers were hooked.

1990s

Dad never did like pizza, but Mom certainly did. During the 1990s, using Grandma Leora’s memoir (which I’d transcribed for family members), Mom and I wandered the gravel roads of Guthrie County, hunting places Grandma had written about. We also looked up old newspaper articles at the Iowa Historical Library in Des Moines. (I discovered that Grandma was correct about Grandpa Clabe’s father’s hog that sold for $2000 in the early 1900s! I thought she had added an extra “0”, but she was right!)

After finishing up, we’d drive down the hill from the library, swing over to Ingersoll Avenue, and enjoy pizza (sausage and onion) at Noah’s Ark.

The restaurant has suffered fires twice that I can remember, but thankfully returned as good as ever. It’s named after its founder and long-time owner, Noah Lacona, and features a mural of the biblical Noah’s Ark on one wall.

2000s

In Mom’s later years, we’d ask where she’d like to eat out for Mother’s Day and for her August birthday. Noah’s Ark. Pizza, salad and their famous rolls, with spumoni ice cream for dessert. After a Mother’s Day lunch, we’d usually head down Fleur Drive to Waterworks Park to see all the flowering crabapple trees in bloom.

Her birthday was at the end of August, after the Iowa State Fair. When she could no longer attend the fair, we’d still drive to the fairgrounds after lunch at Noah’s Ark to see the wonderful gardens which were still blooming.

It’s still a treat to have pizza (yes, they have gluten-free crust) at Noah’s Ark.

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See more history about the iconic eatery in Classic Restaurants of Des Moines and Their Recipes by Darcy Dougherty Maulsby.