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One of these dummies is made out of wood.




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Oahu Cemetery, the final resting place of Martha Root.




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I'm glad this came with instructions...

I haven't figured out how to let the water out of the basin, though.

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Sam Ewing

Sam Ewing (2nd from left)



(From his autobiography)

During the early two years of World War II I was stationed at the DIO in San Francisco, living in an apartment, until I was shipped via San Diego south to Dutch Harbor and Cold Bay, Alaska, north in the Aleutian Islands. Through a fluke I had been responsible for the capture of a German espionage agent in the Presidio of San Francisco.

In Alaska I became part of a special, select, seven-man intelligence unit headed by Navy Commander Seaman Gaddis, formerly of the DIO. Many years after the war, from the Commander I learned that he carried a letter from Admiral King, the Chief of Naval Operations and of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, that gave him unlimited authority over all ranks. Gaddis was one of America's top intelligence agents. It was said that he broke a Japanese code.

In Dutch Harbor I had coffee with Dashiel Hammet, the famous writer. He was the sergeant editor of the Adak SUN, an Armed Forces daily. My duties in Alaska included editing a daily (coded) newspaper, THE HARBOR NEWS, announcing at the Armed Forces radio station WXLC, and directing a camera crew under the guise of a Navy War correspondent to film as many officers as possible of the 5,000 Russian navy contingent stationed at Cold Bay. Even as allies the Soviets were our sworn enemies. I received a commendation for these activities.

On V-J Day (the surrender of Japan), I was asked by Armed Forces Radio Services to broadcast from Dutch Harbor a "Report From The Aleutians". This broadcast was heard around the world. I read a script prepared, I imagine, by Intelligence.

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I read today that Vincent was very fond of his painting of his bedroom ("The Bedroom") in the Yellow House in Arles, and in fact it perhaps was his favorite. Here are three of his versions of it.









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Starbucks Coffee, Proctor Street, Tacoma, Washington

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Here's the 'Tilted Cone' at the Museum of Glass, Tacoma, Washington.





Barry Ewing

David McGlochlin

David McGlochlin



Dave had a job at Kips grocery store in downtown Carmel, and one of his duties was to close it up Saturday nights. Visitors to the town would often stroll around window shopping after having dinner in one of the many restaraunts, and such was the case one summer night when I went down to meet Dave prior to going to a party or something. Well, as his '56 Ford's starter motor was on the fritz, he had parked it heading downhill at the corner of San Carlos and Ocean Avenue next to the market where we'd have plenty of room to push start it.

After he locked the market up, we started pushing the car across the intersection, trying to get up enough speed for him to pop-start it. Out of nowhere, two gentleman who had been strolling with their wives ran up and helped us push, and Dave was able to jump in the car and get it started. As I turned to thank the good Samaritans, I recognized that one of them was "The Ol' Pea-Picker" himself, Tennessee Ernie Ford.

Looking back, I wish I had remarked that the car felt like 16 tons.



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Here are some of Van Gogh's work in pencil, pen and ink, and chalk.

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This one is amazing! I've never seen the sun expressed like this in a pen and ink drawing--- he made it hard to look at the sun!

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Jeffrey Cobb Ewing

The Clarinet

When Cobb was ten years old and in the fifth grade, he came home from school and told me that he wanted to learn to play the clarinet. He handed me a contract the school music teacher had drawn up, stating that the student is making a commitment that would last the school year, and in return for the teacher’s time and the parent’s willingness to rent an instrument, the student would attend all lessons and diligently practice. Cobb had already signed the form, and after reading it, and making sure he knew what he was agreeing to, I gladly signed it too.

We went to a music store and rented a clarinet, and when we returned home, watching Cobb put the thing together, it occurred to me why the clarinet was the instrument he had chosen: It came in a small case, and it had all sorts of interesting valves and levers—just the thing for a curious and clever boy. The first sounds it produced, and the second, were not so pleasing, however, and for some reason I sensed that he hadn’t expected the challenge to be quite so great.

Nevertheless, a few weeks passed and every Wednesday he would carry his clarinet in that neat little black case off to school for his lesson. In the evening I’d ask him how things were going, and he confided in me that he was having a difficult time of it. I told him to keep at it, as it was sure to get easier. After a time, when asked how his lesson went, he told me that he hadn’t gone. I encouraged him, and he said he’d go the following week. The following week he skipped the lesson as well, and I knew I had a problem on my hands. I reminded him of the contract and his commitment, and gave him more encouragement.

The next week, it was the same. The clarinet was just too difficult for him, and he didn’t want to try to learn how to play it. I was disappointed, but I also wasn’t going to force him to do something that was going to make him miserable, for when his mind was made up about something, nothing was going to change it. I told him that he was going to have to tell his music teacher about his decision. Cobb wanted to know just what it was that he should say, so I told him that he should tell his teacher that the clarinet was too difficult for him, and he has decided to discontinue his lessons.

As he left the room, I could tell that Cobb was thinking of the easiest way to approach his teacher, and explain his decision. After a few minutes, as he walked up to me, I knew that he had decided what he was going to say, and he was using me as a stand-in for his teacher when he said this:

“Jeffrey Cobb Ewing. The clarinet. Goodbye.”

He then turned around, and walked out of the room.


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Point Reyes, California



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Seldom Inn, Pescadero, California



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Happy Naw Ruz! (norooz or "New Day")

Today at sunset marks the beginning of the Bahá'i New Year (B.E. 167). This prayer is read by Bahá'is around the world, and in this case, chanted.

The images are from the Bahá'i World Center on Mt. Carmel, Haifa, Israel, and of Bahji, across the bay from Haifa, which is the final resting place of Bahá'u'lláh, the Prophet-Founder of the the Bahá'i Faith.






(Translation Here)



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Hangar One at Moffett Field, Mountain View, California



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Russian Blues








































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Jeffrey Cobb Ewing

Born- February 10, 1974 Carmel, California
Died- May 10, 1990 Santa Cruz, California

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On a recent trip to Oahu, Joe visited the gravesite of Martha Root, a Bahá'i who traveled the world teaching the Cause of Bahá'u'lláh. Significantly, she introduced Queen Marie of Rumania to the Faith.









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Queen Marie of Romania

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Queen Marie of Rumania

29 October 1875 – 18 July 1938

Queen Marie was the first monarch to have declared her belief in Bahá'u'lláh.




"It is like a wide embrace gathering all those who have long searched for words of hope… Saddened by the continual strife amongst believers of many confessions and wearied of their intolerance towards each other, I discovered in the Bahá'í teaching the real spirit of Christ so often denied and misunderstood."
--Queen Marie

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Works of S.C. Yuan.






























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