Poem I hope Nancy would be proud of.

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Michael J Apke I was looking at the falling leaves and thinking of the cycle of life. If
there is an appropriate season to die, I think there can be no better date than
November 20th. It seems to coincide with the season. The winter seems to affirm
the bleakness of the fall. I am sure spring the rebirth, my favorite part of the
cycle... is true in all life. Details of how we are reborn are unknown, but all you
have to do is open your eyes and it is a fact.

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Lucky to be alive and Gods Hand

Lucky to be alive and Gods Hand.

I was out on a beautiful hot Sunday in the summer of 1993. We had my son's Vince  9 and Ted 4 my nephews John 11 and Nick 8.also a friend Danny. We cruised lake Michigan. It was so hot everyone wanted in the water so we stopped and swam off the boat to cool off a couple times. Latter we traveled down the Calumet River for a couple hour tour. The calumet is carved out as a partial canal. Smelly industry is on both sides the temperature on the river felt like a hundred and ten. All of us could not wait to get back to the cool breeze of the lake and swim. We got through the tributary of the Calumet and headed out about seven miles into clean fresh Lake Michigan water.

   Vince jumped in  just after I stopped then Danny, I tossed Ted in with Danny. I had a throable in the water. What was unknown is the wind on the  had changed on the lake in the couple hours were on the river. The current was going toward the southeast, but he wind was blowing from  the south to the north and the boat developed what is called sail. In these conditions the boat and the people in  the water separate from the boat very fast. A good swimmer has a hard time to make it back to the boat.

  I was on board, and immediately Ted was hanging on to Danny and were getting in trouble. I tried to prepare a line with a float, but it was too short to keep connected to the boat, so I jumped into help with Ted. Vincent was on the throw able. As soon as I got in the water I knew we were in trouble the boat was floating away fast.

   Nick and john were on board and thank God they stayed on-board. I hooked up with Ted and kept him up, while all of us were trying to hang on to this tiny throw able. Outlook seemed grim, and my thought was that Vince could make it with the throw able but not likely with Ted. I did my best to swim to the boat with Ted, but eventually became exhausted. I kept Ted up while I was under water. I had no strengh toswim anymore and eventually it was like I fell asleep under water. I succumbed to the peacefulness of being inside your mind under water. Nothing hurt any more . Things I thought were incredible like did I make a payment on my life insurance, or what kind of trouble would I be in with my wife if I drowned.

    The Boat was a 27 foot with twin 350 Chevy's  with in-board engines. I may have let the kids steer  but I never taught them how to start the boat or reverse it.

With Danny and Vince yelling at the boat Nick figured something was wrong  and convinced John we were not playing. John being taught on grandpa's outboard, figured out how to start one engine on the boat and shift it into reverse. This was no easy task and only one engine worked the power steering. Remember John was 11.

 John came straight back at the group of us propeller coming toward us.

   I came out of my underwater sleep when I heard the engine start. I remember thinking that I was already dead and that the prop won't hurt.

    John got the big boat close enough for us to grab the swim platform and he shut the engine off. After everyone got back on board I dragged myself up the ladder and fell onto the back deck.

   Danny and I,not openly religious got on our knees to pray, a sincere prayer of thanks. After we settled down, I drove the boat with some pain back to Burnham Harbor. I docked the boat and drove  home.

   After I got home to Willow Springs the  pain around my center intensified. It hurt so bad that I had my wife Judy drive me to Mc Neal Hospital, in Berwyn. At the hospital the doctors checked me out, and told me that I  got water on my lungs, gave me a shot of morphine and sent me home by 10pm. By 3 am the morphine wore off and the pain tripled. I had Judy drop me off at emergency. After I entered Mc Neal I laid down on the cold marble floor trying to turn someway to be comfortable.

   Being on the floor attracted the interns attention. Doctors finally did some scan and put me in intensive care for 4 days.

   Prognosis was that when I was sleeping underwater, my body started to shut down. This is called infarction. To keep the blood to your brain the body automatically shuts blood flow in sequence,  kidney first then liver then heart then brain or something like that.

   When the blood flow stops to part of the kidney it dies like a shriveled fruit, (according to the doctor) I lost probably about 25 percent in one kidney, I did have people stop by my hospital room to audit my near death experience.

   The experience always has been very hard to talk about let alone write. I learned  the info you learn in safety class can never replace real experience. When things go bad they happen so fast and there is very little time to react.

   It was a time in my life when even breathing was not my choice. To me the doctors were wrong , it was not infarction that hurt my kidney. It was God grabbing me by the kidney and dropping me back on board the boat,

   This was a life changing experience. I knew every day shouldn't be taken for granted. And I knew it wasn't my choice and "God Existed".

 

Silver anniversery and the 48 Ford

Parents 25th wedding anniversary and a 48 ford Oct 17th 1972.

   I was fourteen and three quarters years old and sophomore in high school A classmate had this car without a front clip with leopard skin interior and a 51 Mercury flathead, that he wanted to off for twenty-five bucks. Of course I had to have it. So Ray Kaszuba and I schemed how to get the car home. Devise a plan to make it acceptable with a place to work on it.

   It was three months until my parents twenty fifth wedding anniversary and the car was the same year they were married. The plan was we would get the car running and give it to my parents, mainly my dad on that momentous day. How could they refuse, I would be driving my own wheels soon. Yes one year minus fifteen days from October 17th 1972.

   A neighbor was nice enough to us use his garage, and keep the surprise gift a secret. Actually the whole block was in on the rouse. My dad actually drove by the garage when he parked his car. Amazingly the secret was kept.

    We put hot rod fenders on the front we fixed the driveshaft. We cleaned the leopard skin interior and did manage to get the old 2 door Ford running a few times. One of our compatriots Dan Wolski worked at a  platting plant and had a bunch of the engine parts chromed. We also sat in the car and drank beer.

   This was about the same time the movie American Graffiti came out. A lot of people notice the resemblance to the lead cars in the movie. If I could have only painted the rust yellow. Me not being a movie go-err, I did not know this until I saw the movie at the Starlight Drive In a few years later.

    October 17th 1972 came and the car would not start. To live up to the original plan and to keep our dignity, we pushed the car in front of my parents house.

   When Verne my mother saw the car I thought I was going to get hit with the broom. This was alleviated by John my dad laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.

Speach and Drama A E I O U a e i o u A E I O U a e i o u cha cha cha

Speech Class             A_E_I_O_U

In Third grade my Ma and Pa , whom had high hopes for my political career sent me to Miss Smith on 59th and Kedzie on the very top corner of the Colony Theater.

She was a drama instructor and a speech therapist. I have a ch's  lisp. I have a problem saying Charlie Chipmunk chider and chattered on the way to church chewing a chunky down China Street.

I did tongue exercises, such as trying to touch my nose with my tongue. Like the French Movie the diver, A_E_I_O_U-A_E_I_O_U-A_E_I_O_U.

Miss smith was this 5 foot late sixty year old aunt type, who was actually the aunt to one of the Beach Boys.

I would take the Archer bus to Kedzie, then the Kedzie electric bus to 59th street by myself. Safe traveling for a 10 year old. I did have a few friends in class. My first realization of Vietnam was when a girl missed class when her brother was killed in Nam. Tough for a third or fourth grader.

I did not want to be there and I do not believe any one else did for speech, although some kids may have been there for drama class. To be in speech class Miss Smiths requirement was you partake in drama also. I think she needed bodies for her plays.

After months of tongue and mouth stretching exercises and also participation in drama Miss smith put on a play. My family and a few relatives came to see me perform. I do not remember the play but I do remember my mother being embarrassed by my costume attire. I left my zipper, or barn door open on my pants.

Thank God for small accidents. I believe I only had to go to two more lessons before I was allowed  to quit.

It's amazing what things that seem so small and unimportant become beneficial to your being and who you are. I felt  some regret leaving my fellow actors behind.

LOST FOR 27 CENTS

Lost for 27 cents

   When I was 4 and a half years old my mother sent me to the corner store for milk. She sent me with 27 cents 1 quarter and 2 pennies. I got to the store and did not have the money. I turned around and looking down toward my shoes I tried to retrace my steps hoping to find the money.

   I got lost. I ended up 4 blocks away quite a time latter crying and having no clue where I was. I felt like I was walking in circles. a gentleman  in a Restaurant saw me and it was obvious I needed attention.

   Luckily I knew my address, or about where I lived. He settled me down gave me a  quarter and a ride home.  He told me I don't have to tell my mother about the quarter .I remember fearing I would be seen being dropped off. Got home late and with no milk.

Ma  asked me what happened. I explained I got lost after losing the money but I found the money while looking for it.

   Unbeknown to me the money was already found on the garage floor, 27 cents.

   I was as lost as anyone lost in a big city could be for a couple hours. I was an 4 and a half year old emotional wreck. I could have never been found, I thought.

   The focus was not on how happy I was to be home and not lost. The focus was on that I lied about the 27 cents, and where did I get the quarter. I eventually  told the warden (ma) about the restaurant owner giving me a ride and the quarter. We figured out in the car where he was by luck and the phone booth type entrance on the side of the building on 47th and Kostner. We thanked the man and gave the money back.

The Five year Bath

   I have gone through different fits of being shy and not shy about my nudity. As youth fades you are less likely to take your shirt off. When I was in early part of grammar school I had an issue with taking my shirt off. I remember swimming with my T shirt. I attribute this confusion to my older sisters teasing like saying to me" Aqua Velvet Man".

   I remember when I found out you had to ware cloths. It is as clear as if it happened today. I can picture my dad and ma in the kitchen with the formica top table. I was taking a bath up stairs. We all lived on one floor and we called it upstairs. I was told that I was in the tub long enough, and I should get out and get dressed. To get to my room from the bathroom I needed to cross the kitchen where my two sisters and parents sat at that Formica table.

   I got out of the tub no towel in hand and walked across the kitchen to my room. It was only a 15 second walk. In those 15 seconds all damnation broke loose. The gasp, and oooooooos, snickers and giggles from my sisters changed how I  contended with not only nudity but in being teased. The sisters were delivering a prehistoric attitude and giving a four year old a lifelong complex.

    I waffled on the nudity issue. I streaked when I was 16, which took a lot of alcohol for courage. I was arrested skinny dipping in Lake Thunderbird. But I had a hard time taking a shower at high school or boy scout camp. Thank God I didn't sweat a lot. I sunbathed on Blacks Beach CA. (nude beach) but kept my trunks on.

   I was shy and not so Shy. In conclusion your nudity has a lot to do with your nature.

32 revolver

  The next year John was checking the gun to see if it were loaded, while we waited in the car. He pulled the trigger and put a hole through the wall above my bed. The bullet ricochets first off the plywood door and left a mark. I used to put my finger in the whole in the wall and think about what if and what could and the power of the gun. When my mother heard the bang, for some reason she thought he shot himself, I mean suicide. Maybe she was bugging him

    Born Michael John on October 2 1956 in Great Lakes Naval Hospital. Breathing air for the first time, weeks past the expectancy date. Weighing 10 lbs, 9 ounces, hungry and large. My father John would remain in the navy for eight more years.

   Early memories of walking around the block with my sister, trying to catch the rain with our tongues’ hanging out from the protection of an umbrella. We also had plenty of WW2 Navy surplus radios, flight boots, Mae West jackets and cloth head sets and gauges.

  I would wait at the corner curb for my father to come home between 5:30 to 6:00 pm, While waiting I remember printing my name in street tar with tiny pebbles.                            At Five years old and before starting school I would go to work with my dad on Tuesdays, when he was chief of the day at Glenview Naval Air station. We sat in an office that is on the tarmac. The Jets were so loud they gave you a shuddering thrill. To sit in helicopters and planes was my favorite thing to do. The sailors always spoiled me to take it for granted.

   Starting kindergarten was traumatic. I believe my mother wanted me gone. Because of an infant sister and me a five year old, was too much for her and with the sitters sister educators and companions starting grade 2 and grade 7 I was given the boot. To add to my confusion, my sisters taught me to write cursor before I could print. Ms Volpe the teacher tried to erase what I learned which led to printers block. I felt with only education from my sisters, I would have kept an advantage.

   First grade was probably the year I remember most. A young progressive Nun, Sister Editha. We were taught Spanish, we did art projects. I had brought in a front load dryer with a glass door, loaded it with balls and Cray papers and plugged in the salvged prize to watch the collage tumbling I also had a hammer go up and down with my erector set, hitting a Styrofoam wig holder and called it knowledge. Progressive art is fun.

   I remember the announcement that President Kennedy had been shot, in a Catholic school mainly manned by nuns. That day the speaker above the chalkboard took on a life, almost if no-one was on the microphone.

   Sister Editha made you sit under her feet and eat birdseed if you whistle, abusive by today standards.

   Spanish I could count to ten say Hail Mary and Our Father. It was especially nice when my Jesuit Missionary Cousin sent us a letter from Lima Peru.

   We would visit my dad’s mother in Tampa, FL at Easter but 2^nd grade  I came down with chicken pox, I stayed with Little Grandma till it cleared then I was flown on Delta Airlines to Tampa alone.