One Book, One Bettendorf

I believe in helping people-all people. Some may say that the little deeds really don’t count in the long run, or that some people don’t deserve to be helped, or that they need to learn their lesson the “hard way” to “learn responsibility”. I’m not suggesting that you guiltlessly spoil anyone you may come across, but it’s good to remember that a helping hand is always greatly appreciated. Everyone deserves help every once in a while, and not just the ones that I may deem worthy.

Sometimes when I’m walking to second period, I see a group of people huddled outside the obviously locked door. For on reason or another, they are just arriving to school and are too lazy (or don’t have enough time) to walk around to the front of the school to the correct door. They’re practically shivering. They knock and beg and plead for someone to let them in. Of course, not all of them are innocent.

Many of them have a first period study hall, but many of them also just felt like skipping. They got to sleep in and take their time getting ready and maybe even enjoy a hot breakfast, while I suffered through the horrible class known as government. Why should I help them? Those kids need to take responsibility for their actions and be late. Maybe they’ll even get a detention for it. They deserve to be left out in the cold, right?

And yet, I let them in, because this is a huge analogy for life itself. Sometimes you have to forget about whatever feelings of hate or revenge you have for someone. Sometimes you have to just get over it, because people need your help.

After I let them in, they joyously thank me and sprint to wherever they may be going and I smile to myself. I smile because I helped someone out today. I could have saved someone from getting that dreaded fourth tardy of the semester, thus saving them more than a few Saturday schools. I could have saved someone from simply suffering the embarrassment of arriving late.

It may seem small, but the small things add up in the long run. I’m proud to be one of those nice girls who lets the late kids in before second period. Some may call me a pushover, but that’s ok. I’ve probably let them in before second period at least once anyways.

Erin Claeys

The earliest combination of the pencil to the eraser dates back to the late 1850s by a man named Hymen Lipman. He patented his revolutionary idea and sold its rights to another man named Joseph Reckendorfer for $100,000. Little did he know that the intuitive idea and design would make such a great impact on the future of writing. But I’m not here to tell you the history of the modern-day writing utensil; I am here to explain just why pencils do have erasers. There are two diversions of this thought, the literal, and the metaphorical.

You see, erasers were first put on pencils as a way of removing pencil (graphite) from certain papers. The eraser was an easy way to clear up a mistake, that humans often do, and rewrite it on the same parchment that the mistake was previously written on. Instead of having to start over completely because of small error, you could simply take out your eraser and smoothly rub away your mistake. Simple right? Before the time of erasers, one mistake would ruin the entirety of whatever it was that was being written. But, perhaps the time before erasers taught people to be careful of what they wrote. Maybe not.

Yet there is another whole perspective on which to view the purpose of erasers on pencils: metaphorically. I believe that erasers were put on pencils because of the fact that people make mistakes in LIFE. It is only human to do so. Yet unlike the simple rubber eraser, it is much more complicated than rubbing away mistakes in life. Mistakes in life are much harder to erase, if you will. You have to work hard to resolve and/or fix these “errors”. I like to call these types of fixes, “life erasers” simply because of the metaphor of erasing a humanly mistake from one’s life. But, don’t worry if you run into a life mistake, life is full of ‘em, as long as you learn from them, you can avoid running into similar life mistakes later.

The reason why there are erasers on pencils is to erase the mistakes that people make in writing. Fact: people make mistakes. Fact: people can “erase” these mistakes with kindness, support, and just plain ol’ love. Learn from your mistakes, save the eraser for something else.

Lucas Meyer

I believe in trusting your instincts because when you don’t, you always wish you could go back and follow them. I say this because there has been many times when I wanted to do something and my instincts were telling me to do it, but for some reason I seemed afraid or scared to do it. When I didn’t follow what my instincts were telling me, I paid for it in the end.

One time that I will never forget is when I was sitting at the poker table with six friends and we were playing Texas Hold’em. The blinds were 10/20, I was dealer. I was shuffling the cards and for some reason I had a feeling this hand was going to be big. Wasn’t sure if I was going to win, just I knew that there was going to be a lot of chips in the pot. I dealt out the cards to my friends and waited until my turn to look at my cards. The small blind and big blind posted their 10/20 blinds and the rest of my friends folded until it was my turn. When I looked at my cards, I saw QQ. Of course I raised it, I mean I’m dealer and most likely have the best hand, so I raised it up to 100. Small blind folded right away, but big blind re-raised me to 200. I was thinking he had KK or AA, so I re-raised him to 350 to see what would happen.

The worst possible thing happened to me, he went all-in. He had more chips than me, so if I called and lost, I would be out. I saw there and thought. Of course my other friends at the table were getting mad, saying hurry up, but I couldn’t decide the right choice. My instincts were say call, but I felt bad about it and thought that I was beat. So I folded and I asked him what he had and he flipped over JJ. I was so mad! I couldn’t believer that I folded! We started flipping the cards over to see who would have won. The flop was Q of spades, J of spades, and 2 of diamonds. I literally stood up so fast and just started yelling. The turn came with an A of clubs and the river was an 8 of clubs. My friend laughed and called me an idiot. Four hands later I ended up getting out on some stupid flush that one of my other friends caught on the river.

I couldn’t believe how stupid I was and from then on I knew that if my instincts were telling me something, to always follow them because somehow they are just always right, maybe not for you, but always for me now. What an experience it was for me. That right there has made me a better Texas Hold’em player today

Kendall Cosgrove

A relationship is the same as a friendship with some added attachments. Friends make and break all the time, but the second they reconcile all the “breaking” is forgotten. I believe that a relationship can be treated just like a true friendship. Mistakes happen but most friends forget and move on. When this happens in a relationship all is lost and the world is over.

In today’s world mistakes define a man or woman. Whatever mistake they make, it is stuck with them; they are labeled forever more with their one bad choice. Relationships are the definition of mistakes. Young teens can become so focused on finding the perfect man or woman that the only thing they see is the mistakes of their perfect partner and then leave them. Friendships don’t work like this. Friends fight all the time and still find a way to ignore the mistakes. So many more relationships would work if only teens could focus on the good.

Being in a relationship for over a year really teaches me to not focus on the mistakes but focus on the good. As a seventeen year old it isn’t easy. We have broken up twice about six months into the relationship. Mistakes were made but when that person became my best friend I learned to forgive. Just like any fight with my friends I got over what had happened and did what I needed to do for myself in order to keep my closest friend around. That is what a true relationship is, a real friendship.

A real friendship is not just break-ups and make-ups. A true friend is someone that is trustworthy even with a deepest secret. For example, my boyfriend knows more about me than my best friend. I feel comfortable enough with him as a friend to tell him these secrets and know that I can trust him. Sometimes I feel that this is what parents do not understand about teenagers in relationships. I hear a lot of parents say that they do not get why their child does not just date and not be so committed at a young age. What I believe they do not understand is that a committed relationship is more than what some time parents worry about. That someone is someone who is always there to listen and can normally have the right thing to say, every time.

I look forward to a phone call every night because normally my day is very stressful. That phone call is what relieves my stress because it is not just a boyfriend calling it is a friend calling because they want to. It is someone who really truly cares to call and ask how my day went, and will listen to me rant about classes and drama. This I believe is what a true relationship is, a true friendship.

Kelsey Hull

I will live until I die, but I will not die before I’m dead. Having advanced almost three score and nine into this life I find life to be a most important consideration. Life in the sense of “living” rather than “life or death”. Taking what is here-now and enjoying that to the fullest.

As a child I had no concept of what life was except that it was. In mid-life I lived with an arrogant possession of it, some thought without any consideration of tomorrow. Others just shook their heads in wonderment and let me go on. My boss, Corps of Engineers Colonel, saying “You’re so far out on the cutting edge you’re slipping in the blood”. My theory was if you want more do more. If the candle isn’t bright enough, light the other end. Do more? Cut the candle and light those ends.

Then I had an incident. Excruciating pain in my back and chest. I couldn’t expand my chest to draw a breath. Want more, do more. I quickly took up diaphragmatic breathing (stick your tummy out when you breathe in) and avoided suffocation. After about 6 weeks the Chiropractor saw something he didn’t like, the Internist didn’t like it either nor did the Cardio-Vascular surgeon. This incident is a Type IIIB aortic dissection, which at the time meant nothing to me.

This is where an attitude adjustment is supposed to come in. With that name I could go to the Merck Manual and look it up. Very interesting statistics. 80% die in the first 30 days with an additional 12% to follow within 5-years. Wow, an 8% 5-yr survival rate! Guess I should be thinking in the sense of life or death, right? Got some positive reinforcement along those lines. John Ritter and Lucy were both in the 30 day majority. A retired Doctor asked, “What’s it like living with a time bomb in your body?” followed by “I’d rather have cancer”. (Not sure but I think he must have been a proctologist.) A contrasting opinion came from a friend’s bridge opponent, a practicing physician. “He has what? He’s still alive? He’ll live a long time. Two spades.”

I pondered my options for two or three seconds. I was here-now. Life had always meant living. I decided it still did. My Doctor knowing my weekend recreational activity was building retaining walls out of 8’ railroad ties gave me a 50# lifting limit. Also knowing I had lived in big snow country (Green Bay, Michigan’s UP, and Colorado’s mountains) said no snow shoveling! Shucky darn. Two restrictions I’ll have to learn to live with.

I still run across those who know nothing about me but are of the same opinion as that proctologist, that I am lucky to be alive. (Emphasis on lucky, not alive!) I allow them their thought with the caveat that it ends at my nose. To those who listen I tell them that I will live until I die – and I will not die before I’m dead.

Richard Lemke

I believe in family. We were all born into a family-of-origin, and mine is a great asset. A brother drove 8 hours to help me move into an apartment, then drove back home the same day-another 8 hour drive. My sister worked a full overnight shift as a nurse before driving 500 miles to attend my son’s funeral. They have expressed their love in concrete ways.

Many of us married and co-created a family. I’ve been fortunate in that my children have the same, ingrained sense of family and respond quickly and graciously to the needs of their siblings. I love both these families; however these relationships were inherited/provided, not selected.

I have, over the years, grown into other “families”. In this new circle are close friends, working relationships, people who listen to me-hear my triumphs and troubles, and who still manage to love me.

I have marvelous people in my chosen family. There are several who have been in this circle for more than 30 years. The relationships have endured in spite of trauma and drama, of divorce and death, of moves in and out of state, even a second marriage.

These families are often our closest relationships. Families of origin are often scattered over wide geographical areas. Life and experiences have changed me. I may no longer belong to the same religious sect as my siblings or my children. We may have opposing political beliefs. Our biases may not run along the same lines. We are family by blood, not by choice.

When I chose my friends, or they chose me, it was because we shared an interest, held a common belief, enjoyed each other’s company. These loved ones have been first on the scene when our family suffered the losses of two children. They encourage me though the trauma of divorce and prodded me to become a stronger woman. They have been not only my friends, but my mentors, too.

My friend, Phyllis, may call to ask if I’m going to Writer’s Group. AnnaMae invites me to lunch. Dolores is excited about a volunteer experience – doing clean-up work in Mississippi.  Dale’s email sounds lonely and I’m grateful she feels comfortable in asking me for help. Lolita offers to locate an address so I can contact Mike. These are all small items, not huge efforts, but they makeup my normal world. We need each other, trust one another, know that hugs (verbal or physical) are there when we need them. When someone says “It was a zoo when the kids were all home for the holidays”, we understand and accept. We are family.

Some of my family of friends has grown out of professional relationships. A few are extensions of my husband’s working peers. More are part of a natural progression – friends of friends with like-minds and/or interests. The glory of this Family is that I need not choose by age, race, religion or politics. We can agree on some strong beliefs and disagree on others. And it’s still all in the family.

Jo Doofe

I believe in bridges and in the imagination they represent. I’ve been a resident of Davenport, Iowa for a quarter century, a period that has seen changes good and bad in the world and my community. What has not changed is the need for our citizens to have vision and the strength of character to share their vision to improve the quality of community life.

When we moved into Davenport at the economic tipping point of the early 1980s, we bought our house for an asking price it would not again be worth for nearly a decade. The year following our arrival, the local farm implement industries suffered cut backs or closures sending them into a tail spin which drove down the value of real estate as surely as it drove many people’s perceived value of community enthusiasm and pride of place. When we took our kids on a downtown drive through during our first Christmas season here, all we saw were near empty streets with many empty buildings. The atmosphere was grey, unbrightened by lights, signs or banners.

Then a local civic activist came up with the idea of lighting the Centennial Bridge. She asked each of us for a buck to get the job done. At the time a number of people poo-pooed the idea. “What a waste of time and energy,” some claimed. “Who needs lighted bridges when the lights are going out all over town from people losing their jobs,” others declared. I recall that the original funding-raising target was not met, but enough was raised to crown each arch of the bridge with sufficient lights to outline the most graceful bridge in the Quad Cities and visually link Davenport and Rock Island.

The work of a few provided for the visual enjoyment of the many and in my mind started the community movement out of a local mental recession. I’ve never missed the buck we tossed in at an event in LeClaire Park years ago, and the interest it has paid far exceeds that I would have gotten from any local bank.

More recently, another bridge stands out symbolically for me. Davenport downtown revitalization has taken the form of new hotels, museums, galleries, and more. The suggestion to build a River Drive overpass to safely connect the downtown to the riverfront resulted in a structure that has been called “A boondoggle. A waste of money” and/or “The bridge to no where…” Whenever I’m anywhere near the Sky Bridge, day or night, I cannot help but smile. I see a structure that is fun to look at, to be in, to cross over. I see a literal as well as figurative reflection in that bridge of Quad City people with vision and the desire to make a visual statement to all who drive or walk through town that imagination is not in short supply here.

I believe in bridges and the imagination needed to conceive of them and what they can join together.

Michael Hustedde

As I sat on my couch, swollen feet propped up on a pillow and bowl of fruit resting on my oversized stomach, it hit me…I am about to become a mother! What was I thinking? I couldn’t do this! What if they get sick? What if they don’t like me? What if they ask where babies come from? What would I do? This fear stayed with me for the next two weeks as I prepared for the birth of my first child. Then it happened…”The baby’s too large, we’re going to induce you.” No turning back…it was time!

As the Pitocin dripped into my IV and I began the process of childbirth, I thought about my fears. I thought about the way my life was about to change and the responsibility I was about to take on. I agonized about it for the next 7 hours. This child did not choose me, but they are stuck with me. What if I let them down? Two hours passed and we realized my child was stuck. I was going to have to be strong and give it everything I had. My fears about changing diapers and knowing when to start solid foods disappeared. My only thoughts were on bringing this child safely into the world. Was I really strong enough to complete the task ahead?

“AAAAAAH!” My baby’s first cry…it was a terrifying sound that melted my heart. I had done it! As they put my son into my arms, my fears were replaced with an overwhelming love. I was a mother! As soon as my hand touched his face, he stopped crying…we locked eyes and it was love at first sight. It was a moment filled with exhaustion, pride and happiness…all rolled into one 9 pound 4 ounce, adorable little package.

So often we underestimate ourselves and our strength. I believe that we doubt ourselves too quickly, when all we need to do is look into the eyes of children. The truth is there for us to see. The truth that we are everything we never thought we could be. To them we are heroes. We are strong and brave and can fix anything. I believe we become better people when we become parents. I believe that any bad day can be fixed by hearing the belly laugh of a young child. I believe there is no greater gift than a hug and, “I love you,” from a child. I believe that no superhero power can top the ability to bring a child into the world. Most of all, I believe that the beautiful baby boy that I was so scared of is the greatest thing I have ever done. He is the very best part of me…and then some!

Belinda Scrogham

I believe that every person that you come in contact with in your lifetime will change you in some way or another.  My father, Tim, died at the age of forty on an ironically beautiful summer day.  That was the day in my life when I was forced to grow up.  My relationship with my father was not the best while he was still around.  We would get along at times and there were times when I just could not stand him.  What I remember most about his was his drinking.  At times he would just get carried away and would not have a clue what he was doing.  It was almost like he was a completely different person.

Since my father was not always comforting and present the way a father should be, he has impacted me a lot.  He was not there for me the times I needed him themost, and from that I learned to be strong and independent.  I now accept people for who they are and do not judge other because everyone has a story.  I have learned to accept criticism.  He taught me to remain strong and not to give in to obstacles.  His memory brings to life not only the sadness, but the hope of rising above.  I love my dad and even though our relationship was not the typical father-daughter experience, he made me wise and determined to follow through with my aspirations.  Also, he has taught me to work hard to achieve the things I want in life and not to let anyone stand in the way of my dreams.

The things he would say to me while he was under the influence are etched into my mind forever.  Even though they are not the best memories of my lifetime they have changed me and made me the person who I am today.  I believe in the impact of relationships lasting forever even when the physical and emotional ties have been diminished.

Brittany Conklin

I believe in religion.  Religion is a part of the backbone of any society that exists now or has existed.  With religion people are able to worship in whatever they believe and hopefully find a peace of mind when they are worshipping.  Finding that peace of mind can be hard at times but I know anyone can achieve it.

With most religions they talk about peace and salvation.  I know from first-hand experience that religion instills a peaceful atmosphere of tranquility to worship God.  I’m a Catholic, which I know just mentioning to some people can bring up much controversy.  But most of their arguments are from so long ago that I ignore them completely saying, “they didn’t happen in anyone’s life so just drop it”, and so we continue on in our conversation.  In this time the Catholic religion is very peaceful and works hard to maintain that state and tries to better the world through many different programs.

In this serene place a person is able to reflect on their past and pray for the past and the future to come.  Also at a place of worship we are able to meet with others with similar ideals of religion and converse with them about each other’s philosophies.  Oftentimes the pastor of my church is asked questions that people can learn from.  Oftentimes also his homilies contain useful information to better ourselves in our lives.  My mom is really religious so if I don’t understand anything I ask her and she gives me a long lecture about the topic and I learn quite a bit more opening questions to be answered.  This to me helps promote the peace in people’s minds making the people a lot more peaceful and the world better.

Without religion in this world people would be misguided and countless chaos would be started because of it.  People’s egos would tell them that they would want to control the hole in a person’s life if there were no religions.  People would attempt to become religious figures and be worshipped which would anger God.  Unfortunately, it has been done many times throughout history where the government rules takes control of religion such as the Persian Empire where the emperor was worshiped or in the times of Great Britain when the king was head of the church.  I personally would never accept that as my religion and would protest against anything that was like that.

The religions in this world promote peace through many different ways.  With those religions people can find peace in one of them.  There is a religion for everyone so no one can say, “I don’t belong to any religion.”  With all these peaceful religions in the world, it can be made into a better place to live.

Ryan Pegorick