Connect the Dots Club

I sat on Larry and Mary Ann Jeffres' deck at their beautiful new home on Shingle Mill Road. In front of me, staring back, sat a crowd heavily populated with students I had known and worked with in the '70s at Sandpoint High School. Some of Claire Travers' cows in the field next to the yard demonstrated a mild interest too---in between moos.

It was an exhilarating and comfortable moment for me as I did my part to roast Carson Jeffres at his wedding barbecue this past Saturday. Carson represented another generation of SHS'ers, those of my son and daughter's era of the '90s. Carson's grandmother June, along with his aunts and uncles, probably could tell some great stories of Sandpoint in the '40s and '50s. A rug-rat generation sat on laps or played in the yard surrounding the crowd.

At least four generations of Sandpoint showed up for the party, and it felt good. We all shared some basics and a common understanding of what it means to know who's related to whom and where they fit on the grand genealogical charts of our area. The out-of-town guests had to have felt a tinge of envy toward the connective spirit of this close-knit gathering.

That was Saturday. Then, yesterday, I met my mother at the doctor's office for her usual blood work. This week the office is sporting a brand-new name but some old familiar faces. Drs. Lawrence, Leedy and Puffer now work under the Kaniksu Medical Group (or something like that anyway). Mother and I filled out a couple of forms that made it all official for her as their patient.

The longtime Sandpoint doctors stayed behind in the same Family Physicians office where Drs. Lawrence and Leedy have operated for years and where Dr. Puffer has joined them. Meanwhile, the rest of the herd from the Family Physicians group, along with their "administrator," moved on to the fancy medical building down by the hospital.

It felt like old home week as all but one home-grown receptionist greeted us. One of the regular nurses, Marian McNulty, led Mother into the blood-test room and said she was mighty happy with the new set-up, especially when she walked in on Tuesday and saw the familiar folks who had worked there for so long and had stayed behind. While Marian poked needles into Mother, we talked about New Sandpoint and Old Sandpoint. We agreed that this setting with so many folks we'd known forever felt mighty good---just like I had felt at Saturday night's barbecue.

As we walked out of the room after Mother's blood test, in walked Leon Lewis with his mother Bernice. They sat down and started filling out forms. As Mother said good bye to the receptionist crowd, I told Leon that Mother had received the package from Karen. A few weeks before Leon's wife Claire (Karen's step-sister) had called asking for Mother's address.

Seems Karen Hayden, who lives near Louisville, had sent Mother a birthday present but it came back because of the wrong address (something that surely wouldn't have happened back in the days of Jo Hawkins influence at the post office when I received a letter addressed to "Marianne Brown, up behind Harold Tibbs' place").

So, Karen's correctly addressed package had arrived Tuesday. Inside was a black purse and a fold-up cane. Mother was thrilled, not so much with the present, but with Karen's thoughtfulness. She and Karen had reconnected their dots last fall when Mother accompanied my sister Barbara and her youth horse judges to the Arabian National Judging contest in Louisville.

Karen's mother Marge was Mother's best friend back in the '40s. Karen's dad, Bill, was our first family doctor in Sandpoint. In fact, Mother has always told us that my brother Kevin was his first patient in Sandpoint when Doc Hayden came here after serving in the war. Suddenly, yesterday while Mother told Leon (whose granddaughter Rachel is quite a rider and who works in the Kaniksu office) about Karen riding her horse Daisy Mae "way back when," I realized we were experiencing another "connect the dots" moment.

We were standing in the lobby of the office where the old doctors were starting a new franchise, and we were were talking about the daughter of one of the old-time doctors who probably delivered half of those '70s grads I saw at Carson's party along with some folks of older vintage like me. The old doctors in the new set-up probably delivered most of their kids who graduated in the '90s.

After thinking about these two situations which come along every so often, reminding us of how good it feels to be in a group where folks understand you and your homespun knowledge, I'd like to propose an unofficial organization. No bylaws or officers please---just a loosely-knit group of "Old Sandpointers" who get together somewhere familiar like the Elks Club or Lakeview Park and just enjoy each other as friends sharing a deep-rooted bond because of mutual appreciation for the history and the people who tried to keep this area so desirable for all those newcomers.

And, if you're feeling left out because of "duration impairment" and you want to apply for a "hardship membership" into this club, all you have to do is demonstrate the same traits of appreciation, sincerity and friendliness modeled by oldtimers who mighta sized you up and taken you under their wing.

At the end of each gathering, we could highlight the best "connect-the-dots" story to come out of the confab, and see if we could top that one the next time. Now, I'll be assembling names for all who want to join, and I promise we'll come up with a venue for the first meeting---maybe even the Lovestead where the "Connect the Dots Club" could all sign the Lodgepole Log--if they haven't already, that is.

So, applications for membership in Connect the Dots have officially opened. Send me your reasons for wanting to join (potatohead89@hotmail.com). They'll close when the last of us Sandpoint provincials goes six feet under.