TEXT:

Dear Greggie and Lau –

We saw a deer just like this one last night. There are many small baby does this year at Green Lake. The weather here has been bright and beautiful. I hope that you two are having a good time in Boston. Greg, do you remember Uncle Arthur Whitaker, the minister who played with you on the floor of your room and gave you money for your piggy bank? Well, he and his wife are here and they said “hello”. I showed them your picture and Lauren’s too! I love you both.

Love, Daddy

ME:

I suspect that at the age of 5, I would have remembered Uncle Arthur Whitaker or at least recalled being given money for my piggy bank. Unfortunately I do not remember him now. All I recall is that my piggy bank was a metal Mickey Mouse piggy bank (exactly like the one to the left) and I used to love the smell of metal coins on my hands as a child.

It is interesting that Dad would choose a picture of a snowy Wisconsin to send in the middle of the summer. And that we were apparently visiting my cousins in Boston long enough for him to send a postcard to their address.

As a teenager I visited the Retreat Center in Green Lake Wisconsin half a dozen times. Never once did I see a deer or Uncle Arthur.

DAD:

In June 1980, I was on the staff of the Dept. of Ministry with Youth in Educational Ministries of the American Baptist Churches leading the second ever national gathering of ABC Youth called “Jubilee” at Green Lake, Wisconsin. There were around 2000 people utilizing both the grounds of the American Baptist Assembly at Green Lake and the dorms at Ripon College in Ripon, WI. This was a huge undertaking for our department; I was the “junior” staff member since my other three colleagues had more tenure than me. This is why Greg and his sister were visiting their Ng Grandmother in Boston while I was away for more than 2 weeks. Greg just turned 5 and Lauren was 2 1/2.

Rev. Arthur Whitaker worked at The American Baptist Churches of Massachusetts in urban ministries in Boston. When I was in seminary, Mom worked as Rev. Whitaker’s secretary and I participated in a project in the South End of Boston trying to build a coalition of mainly Black churches to work together for urban renewal. With two other seminarians (one man and one woman) walking the streets of Boston, I felt like we were the “Mod Squad!”

It’s interesting that I would send a postcard of a deer in the snow when it was probably hot, humid, and hazy in June in Wisconsin! My guess is that I wanted Greg and Lauren to identify with something they know about instead of such abstract things like “a Baptist youth conference!” Maybe it was also hot, humid, and hazy in Boston and seeing the snow on the postcard might have cooled them off.

Recently, there was an article in the San Francisco papers about the origin of the Forty-Niners coach Mike Singletary’s large cross hanging around his neck. He told the reporters that he received it at a “Baptist Retreat in Green Lake, Wisconsin.” When I read that, I can only assume that it was the same place that I spent countless times leading conferences for American Baptists and the while doing that, missing our son, Greg, and our daughter, Lauren.

TEXT:

Dear Honey, Greg and Lauren,

We got here OK on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. As you can see the hotel is beautiful too. There are many shops and places to look and visit, much like Fisherman’s Wharf. Charles and I will try to do some work. I miss all of you already. Take care. I love you.

Dad

ME:

This was one of those postcards that haunted me as a child. I remember thinking to myself “Why is no one there? Was everyone asleep? And if so, why were all the lights still on? Looking at it now it reminds me of a cross between The Shining and 2001. Perhaps too much of a Kubrick vibe going on?

Although I had no concept of where New Orleans or the French Quarter was, I always used to dream of my dad going on these fantastic voyages. Little did I know he was living it up talking about Sunday School Curriculum. It seems to me, reading this again, that this postcard had one mission: to connect with my mom and tell her he wasn’t having too much fun. My sister was still a baby after all.

DAD:

When I was an editor of youth Sunday school curriculum with the American Baptists, I attended a yearly meeting called the Committee on the Uniform Series. As a part of the National Council of Churches of Christ, over 50 editors from many denominations came together to select biblical texts, teaching themes and age-appropriate emphases that would be used by writers of lessons. These meetings were always a lot of work as well as a lot of fun. At the end of every meeting, we would all have a chance to vote on where the next year’s meeting will be.

As you can see, we would pick fun places like the French Quarter in New Orleans. After a long day of work, we would hear a jazz combo and chat about the affairs of denominational life. I had my first soft-shell crab in New Orleans! This ornate hotel, the Monteleone was in the heart of the French Quarter and “Charles” was my colleague, Dr. Charles Oehrig, the adult curriculum editor who was my roommate and mentor at these meetings. I remember Charles always enjoyed a night cap. I miss his sharp mind in interpreting the meaning of scripture and his sparkling eyes when he had a new idea.

This postcard gives me an opportunity to explain to Greg some of the work I did for 20 years when at the time, he would have had no idea or interests in knowing. Now that Greg has his own kids in school, he knows how important relevant curriculum prepares one for living a good life.

According to the date on this postcard, our daughter Lauren was 4 months old. I can still remember how terribly guilty I felt leaving my wife Joy at home with two kids and visiting a fun place like the French Quarter. This was one of those free postcards you find in the desk drawer of your hotel room.

TEXT:

Dear Gregory,

Do you like the totem pole in this post card? It’s like the one you have with the horses, Indians and Teepee. Would you like to visit this place? Maybe you can come with Daddy sometime and we can see it together (with Mommy and Baby too!) Be good, OK? Daddy loves you a lot, lot, lot.

Daddy.

ME:

For as little I remember of actually receiving this postcard, seeing it again 30 years later, it brings back really fond memories. As an older kid, I would stare at the front of this postcard a lot sometimes imagining that Spirit from G.I. Joe in all his stereotypical glory had his headquarters in the bunker looking building in the middle.

In terms of the design of this card I love the scalloped edges and the all-cap italicized type. I also wonder why they bothered to abbreviate Wisconsin to a simple “WIS.”

The last line where my dad tells me he loves me “a lot, lot, lot” is an example of how willing my parents have always been expressing their love to me. A trend that continues to this day and one in which I have tried to incorporate in how I show love to my kids. I only hope that my kids will grow up feeling as loved by me as I did by my dad.

DAD:

Wherever I traveled, I was reminded of how much Gregory might enjoy seeing something of interest or something that he was just beginning to know about. From little toy figurines of cowboys, “horses, Indians, and teepees” that he can hold in his little hands, I hope that he might discover that these symbols of America do actually exist in real life. The Menominee Indians live in Wisconsin. This totem pole was carved by Alaska Indians 250 years ago.

By the date of the postcard, Gregory’s little sister was born exactly one month later. As parents, we must have wanted Gregory to know that we will continue to love him as we will love the new baby. Like God’s love, our love for him and his sister is unlimited. We love him “a lot, lot, lot.”

TEXT:

Dear Gregory,

Daddy received your letter today with the rectangle, Os, Gs and Cs. Thanks. When I come home I’ll be a ceylon so that you can be Starbuck, OK? Do you see all the snow on this postcard? Pretty soon, we will have snow and we can make a snow man. Mommy and baby can play too.

Love, Daddy.

ME:

This is the earliest postcard I have from Dad. It was written the month before my sister was born. That would explain why my dad refers to my sister as “baby”. I love how my dad called me “Gregory” and how at only age 3, I was already into science fiction. Notice the “Ceylon” and “Starbuck” Battlestar Gallactica references.

My dad must have been there for awhile as he received a letter from me while he was there. As an American Baptist minister, my dad spent a lot of time through the years at the American Baptist Assembly in Green Lake Wisconsin. In fact, if you visit there now, they even named a room there after him.

DAD:

Answering God’s call to serve the American Baptists nationally meant that I would be traveling and away from home more than I would like. Gregory was 3 when I went to Green Lake in the Fall of 1978 for an event called, “Creation.” It was the first conference for youth ministry professionals. We did some very innovative and cutting-edge ministries that launched a comprehensive strategy for youth ministry in the denomination.

Not sure if it actually snowed in Wisconsin in October 1978 when I was there. I think I bought the postcard because I knew that Gregory would be able to identify with it. When we first moved from San Francisco to Malvern, PA in January 1978, we arrived to a house covered with snow from a recent storm. I wanted our son to have something to look forward to when I came home.

Post cards are usually sitting in a public rack for tourists to buy. An anonymous photographer has taken a nice picture. We write a personal note on the back side of the picture without the need to encase it in an envelope. It travels across miles, handled by sorting machines and Joe, our letter carrier puts it in our house mailbox for Gregory to read. What is public becomes very personal–Dad’s coming home to play Battlestar Gallactica and build a snowman with Gregory!