A puppet, a little girl, and a magical memory

This column was published in the Bay Area News Group newspapers in November 2010.

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We are thankful for many blessings at Thanksgiving.

Most of our thanks are for big moments, such as the safe return home of a loved one from Iraq or the birth of a healthy baby. But sometimes we give thanks for little things, like a memory of mine I’ll share in a moment.

Whatever the blessing, everything we’re thankful for has an element of joy in it, and because we know that not everyone is as fortunate as we are, we feel a sense of wonder and magic in the gifts of our lives.

One such gift is my vivid memory of an evening when my now 18-year-old daughter, Melissa, was four years old and I was putting her to bed and preparing to tell a bedtime story.

Picture a little girl’s bedroom. In one corner among several dolls is the odd presence of 24-inch ventriloquist dummy in a red jacket and black bowtie. His head and hands are plastic, and his eyebrows and hair are painted on, just like the eternal twinkle in his eye.

This dummy was a toy Santa brought me when I was a little boy. While some readers will remember ventriloquist puppets such as Charlie McCarthy, Danny O’ Day, and Mortimer Snerd, this was a Jerry Mahoney puppet produced in the 1960s by the Juro Novelty Company.

As a kid, I loved this little fellow. He became my companion, keeping me company as I drew pictures or did homework. He always smiled and listened without interrupting. I learned to become a ventriloquist listening to Jimmy Nelson's Instant Ventriloquism record that taught me how, with a little practice, the letter d could become a b-sound and how the letter n could mimic the sound of the letter m. I even entered school talent shows and entertained my friends.

As I grew into adulthood, I kept Jerry stored away in closets, occasionally bringing him out at family get-togethers. He attended my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary, and one Christmas morning Jerry ended up being passed around the living room as my siblings and other family members took turns pulling his string and making him say a few words. We laughed as each of us came up with something funny for him to say.

After my daughter was born and started to play with dolls, I introduced her to Jerry and I would make him talk for her. He started hanging around her room, no doubt pleased to be an active toy again.

So on this particular evening, my daughter climbed into bed and spotted Jerry.

“Daddy,” she said, “make Jerry talk.”

I pulled him onto my lap and he started to ask Melissa about her day. In his typical high voice, he asked about her friends and what games she liked to play.

I watched her blue eyes, fixed on the puppet, enchanted as she answered his questions.

And then she stopped and looked at me and asked in her sweet, four-year-old voice, “You’re making him talk, right?”

At that moment I realized the power of performance and art to transport us. Even when we know we’re watching an act, sometimes the magic feels so real. This is why the English poet and philosopher Coleridge wrote that poetry and art come alive when we willingly suspend our disbelief.

That’s what Melissa was doing, even as I answered yes, I was making Jerry talk.

For such memories and all our blessings this Thanksgiving season, let’s be thankful.

Looking for a new pet? Think chickens.

This column was published in the Bay Area News Group papers on October 14, 2010.

Many people have dogs and cats as pets. Some have chickens.

“We think of them as low maintenance pets,” said Sondra Perry, who with her husband bought three baby chicks eight months ago after removing the grass from their San Ramon backyard to create a garden.

“We got the chickens to help with the bugs and to improve the soil,” she said. “We also liked the idea of having fresh eggs.”

The couple, who grew up around horses but not chickens, kept the chicks indoors for 90 days before moving them outside into a yellow hen house.

Named Mother, Raven and Braveheart, the chickens recently began laying eggs and produce about three eggs every day, one from each chicken.

“The chickens were my husband’s idea,” Perry said. “He likes them and they follow him into the garden waiting for him to overturn something so they can get fresh bugs.”

While the San Ramon couple’s children are grown, Perry said chickens are great for kids.
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Susan Case agrees. “Our four-year-old daughter calls our chickens chirpies,” said Case, who lives in Pleasanton. “She helps feed them and checks their water.”

Purchased in March, three of the five chickens are named Ming-Ming, Jello, and Rudolph.

“It’s not that we don't want to name the other two,” Case said, “but their personalities haven't shown yet.”
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Case said when the chickens were younger, Ming-Ming, who resembles a cartoon character with the same name, would sit on the handlebars of her daughter’s tricycle as she rode around.

“Surprisingly, that poor chicken held on,” said Case, although Ming-Ming had a “deer-in-the-headlight look” during such excursions.

Along with teaching pet care, Case said the chickens offer an opportunity to teach math and counting.

“My daughter counts the eggs and if they’re in different nesting boxes, we ask her to explain how they add together,” Case said.

While the Case family owns five chickens, six is the limit in Pleasanton, and that’s the number owed by Jana Halle, another Pleasanton resident who teaches middle school and has owned chickens for several years. Her chickens are named Trudy (actually, Trudy-With-An-Attitudy, she explains,) Dottie, Deedee, Dori, Sunny and Shady.

Halle said families with backyard chickens should avoid roosters, which can disturb neighbors when they crow in the early morning. Pet chickens should be hens, and it’s important to pay attention to breed, she said. Bantams are smaller chickens and suitable for a backyard. Bantams include several types, and Halle owns four Wyandottes and two English Game hens.

Halle said some people assume hens can’t lay eggs without a rooster in the house. This isn’t true. The eggs won’t hatch into chicks, but hens still lay eggs, she said.

Because it’s difficult to tell the difference between baby hens and roosters, Halle tells a funny story about watching one of two young Wyandottes develop a prominent comb, what she called a kind of Elvis Presley look.

“I thought maybe I’d purchased a rooster by accident,” she said.

Because she would never kill a chicken, she researched chicken sanctuaries and was ready to drop off her rooster. But before she did, she separated the two maturing Wyandottes overnight and requested they each lay an egg to prove they were hens. In the morning, Halle was relieved to find an egg under each chicken.

Halle, like Perry and Case, recommends chickens as pets, as long as families do their homework and understand the commitment required to properly care for and clean up after the animals.

“I love my chickens,” said Halle.

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Sometimes life comes out of left field

A version of this column appeared in the Bay Area News Group papers on September 2, 2010

Early in 2009, our family learned that our daughter Kelsey, then 13, was experiencing rapid kidney failure.

This is the girl who at age 10 had titanium rods inserted along her spine to correct scoliosis.

The same girl whose heart doctors opened at age 3 to repair a leaky valve.

As if these challenges weren’t enough, Kelsey was born with a genetic condition called Jeune Syndrome that makes her small for her age and restricts her lung capacity. Unlike her dad, she’ll likely never run marathons.

So last summer Kelsey went on dialysis at Stanford’s Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital. And thanks to the incredible generosity of her aunt Theresa, Kelsey received a new kidney just one month later in July 2009.

Today Kelsey is doing well and feeling healthy, so when she was invited by the hospital to the August 21 Oakland A’s baseball game with her family, she said she’d love to go.

In the days before the game, we learned more details. This wasn’t just any baseball outing. In fact, Kelsey had a special task to complete just before the game.

Enter Rob Combi of Lafayette, whose son Cole has received two kidney transplants. Combi connected with Oakland A’s vice president Jim Leahey with the idea of having the A’s promote organ donation. They enlisted the support of A’s catcher Landon Powell, who will one day need a liver transplant. Called Donate Life Night, the theme for the evening was organ donation, with $4 of each ticket donated to Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital.

To kick off the game, Combi and Leahy arranged for five children who’d received transplants to run onto the field to a designated player.

So after enjoying an afternoon barbecue and spending time with doctors and medical staff who had also been invited to the game, the kids donned A’s shirts and were given a pen and baseball to be signed by their player. Cole Combi was selected to throw out the first pitch.

From Kelsey’s blog, here’s what happened next: “Finally, we were at the edge of the field. I asked many questions because I did not want to run to the wrong place. And so, when we were told to run, I ran to left field.”

Kelsey explains that for some reason her player wasn’t there, so she was directed to run to center field. She continues, “I got to the player I was assigned to. I didn't know much about the A's, but afterward I realized I was standing next to Rajai Davis during the National Anthem. He signed my baseball, and I ran back.”

After we got to our seats, Kelsey expressed concern she’d run to the wrong place on the field. But soon she realized that many kids would love to say they ran from left field to center field in the Oakland Coliseum.

Needless to say, Kelsey has learned to keep life in perspective.

In her blog, she reminds us to be thankful for our health. She writes about kids who are waiting for livers, kidneys, and hearts. “And yes, even intestines,” she writes. “I know of a little boy who was in need of intestines.”

Also needless to say, our family now has a favorite team: the Oakland A’s.

And Kelsey’s story, along with the stories of those kids who ran onto the field that late afternoon, are why we all need to sign up to become organ donors.

“Most adults complain,” Kelsey writes. “Please, next time you run out of gas, your cell phone runs out of battery, or you get called for jury duty, remember: while you're getting called for jury duty, some kids are getting called for chemotherapy.”

To be ready to save someone’s life, visit www.ctdn.org.

From Silicon Valley to the Silver Screen

This column was published in the Bay Area News Group papers in June 2010.

Pete Saulnier was 58 when he was laid off from his job two years ago. Aside from serving four years in the Air Force, Saulnier worked his entire life in Silicon Valley.

“My first job was in 1968 with IBM,” said Saulnier, who lives in Livermore.

Uncertain where to turn for employment and knowing most companies wouldn’t hire a man almost 60, he remembered that several associates over the years told him he had a “voice for radio.”

“So in 2009 I decided to take voice-over classes in San Francisco,” said Saulnier, who then connected with people in the commercial and entertainment business.

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After lending his voice to promotional and other spots, Saulnier was asked a question he never thought he would hear in his life: “I was asked if I wanted to act in a feature-length film,” he said.
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With this 6 foot height, long hair and beard, and his resonant voice, Saulnier was perfect for the role of a background character, and he jumped at the chance to appear in the movie, titled “Two Mothers.”

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Soon Saulnier was offered opportunities to appear on television and in other films. In just over a year, he’s now appeared in 5 feature length films and 13 short films.

His appearances include roles as a pedestrian, a hospital patient, a coffee shop patron, a news photographer, a homeless person, a college professor, a bartender, an office worker, a Russian bodyguard, and a detective.

“I never know what character I might be from one day to the next,” said Saulnier.

On television, he appeared in a PBS production titled “The Grand Café,” as well as in “America’s Most Wanted” and the NBC/Universal series “Trauma.” Saulnier will also play a suspect in a criminal lineup in an upcoming episode of “Mythbusters,” scheduled to air in the coming months.

According to Saulnier, the pay for acting roles can vary widely, from zero to $250 per hour and more. New actors will often work for free to build their resumes or if they want to support a certain production company or effort.

Saulnier credits the Livermore Valley Film Commission with promoting the film industry in the Tri-Valley, which has helped him find several acting opportunities.

“I wasn’t aware how much filming is done right here,” he said. “Film making is good for our local economy.”

Saulnier notes that film crews bring money into the region by booking hotels, renting local equipment, employing caterers, and using other services. In fact, he has become a volunteer ambassador for the commission when he is auditioning or acting.

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“I encourage producers to contact the film commission for their next project,” he said.
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Along with acting and promoting the region, Saulnier is also involved with Big Burrito Media, a start-up visual media company that promotes authors and books via the web and creates animation, web-TV series, film, and social networking advertisements to help its customers maximize the marketing potential of the internet.

Taking stock of his life these past two years, Saulnier doesn’t miss his former commute from Livermore to the Silicon Valley. Instead, he looks forward every day to his new work and the variety it brings.

For anyone out of work, he offers these words of advice: “Look for new ideas in your life. If you have a hobby or a certain talent, embrace it. It just might be your next career.”

To see Saulnier in a 4-minute short film, visit www.YouTube.com and search by typing “Saulnier” and “Take a seat.” For more information about Big Burrito Media, visit www.bigburritomedia.blogspot.com.

Former Olympian and teacher still an inspiration

This column appeared in the Bay Area News Group papers in July 2010.
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Pictured below in 1961 is cyclist Bob Tetzlaff (left) with Nevada City Bicycle Race founder Charlie Allert. The photo was taken in Nevada City, the first year of the race. Tetzlaff took first place. He returned in 1962 to win the race again. He went on to many victories, was inducted into the United States Bicycling Hall of Fame in 2003, and in 1974 founded (with his wife Lorine) the Cat's Hill Criterium in Los Gatos, a race that continues annually.

In 1962, two years after competing as a cyclist in the Olympics in Rome, Bob Tetzlaff taught his first class of elementary students.

Throughout his 40-year career, he had a knack for sharing stories that served to teach and inspire. I know this because I was in his class in the fifth grade.

Picture a 1967 classroom in Los Gatos, California. The pencil sharpener is full of fresh shavings. In front of the classroom stands a graduate of UCLA, 32 years old, born in Milwaukee, clean-cut in a suit and tie.

His passion for teaching fills the room. We learn more than arithmetic or grammar. We learn that opportunity can present itself even in the most unusual circumstances.

Mr. Tetzlaff teaches us this as he tells about a day when he was training with a bayonet in 1958 in the pouring rain at Ford Hood, Texas. A sergeant shouted to him to come forward. Thinking he was in trouble, Tetzlaff learned that the Army knew he was a cyclist and arranged for him to compete for Team USA. This led to placing sixth in the Pan American Games and competing in the Olympics. In that moment in the army his life was changed.

After school, I look up the Olympics in our family’s encyclopedia. I imagine the discipline it would take to become a cyclist or marathon runner. I decide that tomorrow at recess--instead of playing tetherball--I'll run across the expanse of lawn of the school yard to the far fence.

The next day in class, Mr. Tetzlaff doesn’t tell us that his nickname was “King of the Road” after winning so many road races or that in 1959 he won the national “Best All Around” rider award and took sixth place in the Pan American Games in Chicago.

Instead, we’re learning history. He knows that details about his victories are not what matter. What matters is that he knows our names and cares about us, that he is teaching us to write and to think, and that we are the reason he comes to work every day.

I learned well from him, since today I have a passion for teaching and cycling that I can trace back to Mr. Tetzlaff. He is listed in my roster of great teachers, and after I moved away from Los Gatos, I often wished I’d thanked him. As time ticked on, I feared I might miss my chance.

Then last month I was in Grass Valley visiting relatives for Father’s Day, and Nevada City was celebrating the 50th anniversary of its classic bike race. The newspaper said several prior race winners would be on hand at a reception the evening before the race, including the 1961 and 1962 champion, Bob Tetzlaff.

Seeing opportunity in the unusual circumstances, I invited my 18-year-old daughter to make the short drive with me to Nevada City. As we walked toward the theater on Broad Street, I wondered how much he may have changed with time. Stepping inside, I instantly recognized Mr. Tetzlaff.

“That’s him,” I told my daughter. We had to wait only a few moments. Because of the noisy, crowded lobby, I leaned in to say I’d been one of his students. Emotion caught me off guard as I told him I’m an avid cyclist and distance runner, and that I’d been inspired by him.

We chatted for a few minutes and my daughter took a picture of us. We met his wife, Lorine, and we learned that he still teaches part time, even in retirement.

So Mr. Tetzlaff, on behalf of all the students who never got the chance to say so, thank you for being a great teacher, for being a role model, and for the difference you’ve made in our lives.

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Jim Ott with his teacher Bob Tetzlaff, taken in Nevada City in June 2010. Photo by Melissa Ott
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NOTE: This column generated many emails from people who knew or competed against Tetzlaff. Here is a sampling of the emails I received:

Mr. Ott,

Thanks for your story about Bob Tetzlaff and for remembering him as I do. I too had "Mr. T" as a teacher. 1973/74, 5th grade, Daves Ave School in LG and I remember him fondly. His name comes up when I'm asked the "best teacher you ever had" question.

Remember the old "Cat's Hill Bike Race" he organized every year? Good times.

I often think of him, especially during the Tour, and glad you tracked him down to find him well. Funny though. All these years I have thought of him as a Mexico City Olympic athlete. Thanks for setting it straight.

I too am an avid road cyclist and marathoner and like to think Mr. Tetzlaff has inspired me to compete and enjoy doing it.

Thanks again. Your story made my day.

-Ben Clayden
Danville, CA

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Jim,

Nice article on Bob. He's still the king.

George Mount

[Note: George Mount is an American former professional cyclist. Mount was sixth at the 1976 Montreal Olympics road race which launched his professional career and propelled the US into post-war international cycling. He raced professionally in the US and Europe, the first American to break into European road racing. Mount was inducted to the United States Bicycling Hall of Fame.]


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Jim,

Wonderful essay on Bob Tetzlaff. I raced against him a few times in the 60's, and I can say that it was not only his classroom students who learned a lot from him and were inspired by him. I personally was very motivated by his example and, as a result, have found great satisfaction in my brief racing career and as a life-long avid cyclist.

Hope to see you on the road!

Cheers,

John Nidecker
Team Alameda
Santa Rosa CC
ex-Berkeley Wheelmen
ex-Pedali Alpini

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Jim,

Thanks for the great tribute to Bob. I met him in 1964, my first year of bike racing. Indeed, he was a well liked mentor to many of us young bikies.

Bob and Lorine have been regular attendees of our annual Old Farts ride, now in its 30th year. My wife, Tena, keeps the email list of some 200 riders, and she sent the link to your column to everyone. I'll forward some comments from Skip Cutting who was a member of the '68 Olympic team.

BTW, I'm also an adjunct anatomy teacher at Las Positas College. And I was in Nevada City for the race on Father's Day. As a spectator, of course. I had read about the reunion of previous winners in the same newspaper.

John Gallagher

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Skip Cutting wrote the following to Tena after she sent out the column through email:

Tena,

Thanks for sending this out. Bob is such a kind person, and of course, was a wonderful cyclist. I managed to beat him in the sprint finish at the Tour of Solvang in 1963 - my first 'big' win - and I was so excited to have beat the King.

Afterwards, we ran into each other in the bar at Mattie's Tavern, where the finish was, and Bob bought me a beer (of course, I was only 17 and didn't drink beer - but what the heck...). I was blown away, that this guy I just beat would do such a thing. One of my first great lessons on true championism.

I spoke to Bob on the phone a couple of years ago -- it was wonderful to talk with him, and reminisce....

He is a guy who, in my opinion, should not be forgotten for a myriad of reasons. If you see him, please render our best wishes.

Regarding the Ol' Farts ride, can't make it this year, but please keep me on the list - one never knows about the next.... I am riding, really training pretty darned hard. My training partner is younger and we are getting him prepped for the Master's Natz in a couple of weeks in Louisville. So everyday, we follow the training schedule that I have concocted - and every day he works me over. My wife says it is just another example of poetic justice....

Because of the article on Bob, I am forwarding this email to the guys from the '68 Olympic Team that I have addresses for. Thanks again.

Best, Skip

100 miles of endurance

This column was published in the Tri-Valley Herald and Valley Times in June 2010


On Saturday, June 26, 2010, Marianne Paulson will join more than 450 other athletes in her third attempt to run 100 miles in the Western States Endurance Run.

Paulson, who grew up in Norway and now lives in Pleasanton, has finished nine other 100-mile races. She's extremely fit for a 46-year-old mother of three boys who is celebrating 20 years of marriage this July.
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As she toes the line at this year's race, Paulson hopes to avoid the encounter that delayed her last effort in 2007 when, after she'd run 97 miles, a large bear blocked the trail and refused to move. This caused Paulson and another runner to miss a crucial time cut-off by 13 minutes, dashing their chances for an official finish under 30 hours.
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The annual Western States run starts in Squaw Valley and climbs 2,550 vertical feet in the first 4½ miles. The route then follows the original trails used by the gold and silver miners of the 1850s. Traveling west, runners climb another 15,540 feet and descend 22,970 feet before reaching Auburn.
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In other words, it's one heck of a run that takes two days with no sleep. Rivers are crossed, joys are beheld, hopes are smashed, sleep-deprived hallucinations emerge, tears are shed, and many runners don't finish. But not a single runner would trade being anywhere else.
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Three other Pleasanton runners--all in their mid 40s--will also compete this year, including Ron Rel, a 44-year-old software executive who only recently began running ultra distances after becoming internationally ranked in XTERRA races, which are rugged-terrain triathlons.
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Rel said running Western States is the equivalent of “stepping off into an abyss” since he's never before run 100 miles.
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For Harris Goodman, a pathologist who works at Alameda County Medical Center and Saint Francis Memorial Hospital, running Western States is the next step in what started as a way to get out of the house about 10 years ago.

“I was a bookworm,” said Goodman, 46. “I didn’t like running at first.” But at the suggestion of his wife, he took one of his children for a long run in a jogger stroller, and Goodman got hooked. Since those days, he's finished 22 ultra-marathons, including two 100-mile races.
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Also at the start line in Squaw Valley will be Dan Boyle, who ran Western States in 2007. Boyle and his wife Diann, who is also an ultra distance runner, are pilots for Southwest Airlines. (Because runners are largely selected by lottery to get into Western States, Diann was not chosen this year.)
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“I was an overweight chess geek in school,” said Dan Boyle, 46. “I run ultras because they’re on trails instead of roads. The camaraderie, atmosphere and scenery are awesome.”
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[Dan Boyle, left, with Ron Rel]
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All of the runners from Pleasanton are married and have children, ranging in ages from 6 months to 16 years. Finding the time to train for 100 miles is often as challenging as the run itself.
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Along with morning and evening runs during the week, typical long training runs begin at 3 in the morning on Saturday or Sunday and end five hours later, in time to get home to spend time with family. Each runner credits his or her spouse with essential support.
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A favorite training area is the Pleasanton ridge, where the steep trails are similar to those along the Western States route. Such training comes with its share of risks, and not just from injuries. On a recent ridge run, Paulson saw a mountain lion crossing the trail 100 yards ahead of her. Similarly, Goodman encountered a bear on a training run along the Western States trail itself.
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Along with the Pleasanton competitors, other local Western States runners this year include James Richards and Elizabeth Vitalis from Livermore; Marc Dube, Suzie Lister, and David Rhodes from San Ramon; and Mark Overhoff and Dan Burke from Danville.
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So why run 100 miles? What's the appeal? The responses are many.
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Marianne Paulson has this to say: "I love life outdoors and to challenge myself--and I guess I am a bit adventurous. I like the excitement of not knowing what is ahead, like a burst of energy, a low point, or a beautiful waterfall. Training for and completing a 100 miler is very strategic and you have to execute the plan and make changes along the way to make it to the finish. The race itself is extremely interesting and you find out a lot about yourself. I find out something new every time and I guess that is what causes me to want to do it again. It is also a great feeling to be very physical fit. You have to be or you won't be able to make it to the finish line."
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Dan Boyle said running long distances challenges his limits to see what he can accomplish. “It's just me, the trail, and the clock, and no one else to blame if I fail. When I succeed, it’s extremely gratifying,” he said.
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For Harris Goodman, running ultra distances is fun. "Yes, it really is fun and relaxing," he says. "And the support from other ultrarunners is incredible. The100 mile events are not you against other runners, but you against the course, so everyone is so supportive and helpful. Also, you can't believe what you can accomplish until you try."
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Ron Rel sums it up well when he says he will attempt 100 miles "because I don't know if I can do it. I’m going to find out what I’m made of.”
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Harris Goodman with world-known ultra marathoner Dean Karnazes

Bringing Teddy Roosevelt to life

This column was published in the Contra Costa Times newspapers on May 27, 2010.

A man will grow a mustache for many reasons, but to look like a dead president? That’s what Orinda’s Fred Rutledge did last week to bring to life Theodore Roosevelt in an evening lecture series sponsored by Pleasanton’s Museum on Main.

Dressed as Roosevelt and standing at a lectern draped with an American flag, Rutledge told about 100 attendees at a Pleasanton church earlier this month that he’d just returned from spending four days with John Muir.

Working from historical documents, Rutledge took the audience back to May 1903, some two years into Roosevelt's presidency and the day he emerged from his historic Yosemite trip where the president and Muir eluded secret service and the press corps: “Just the two of us,” said Rutledge as Roosevelt, “by the campfire underneath the oldest living trees stretching high above into the starry night sky, talking, laughing, story-telling.”

Employing a mid-Atlantic accent, Rutledge filled his talk with historical tidbits, including the revelation that Roosevelt’s often-quoted “Speak softly and carry a big stick” comes from an African proverb.

Rutledge also illuminated Roosevelt’s shifting view of nature as a source of national raw materials to a source of beauty in need of protection: “I am still sort of a hunter,” said Rutledge as Roosevelt, “although a lover of nature first. When I hear of the destruction of a species I feel as if all the works of some great writer had perished.”

Rutledge, 53, fell in love with history thanks to his parents who often sat around the kitchen table in their Piedmont home talking about historical topics. He attended San Francisco State University and St. Mary’s College. Having served as an Army Reservist, he’s now in the California State Military Reserve.

“Like Roosevelt, I’m a full colonel,” said Rutledge, who is also the Chief of Staff of the California Center for Military History.

His first portrayal of Roosevelt occurred in April 1999 after meeting Muir impersonator Steve Pauley at the Muir House in Martinez. Pauley had been looking for someone to portray Roosevelt to recreate scenes from that 1903 Yosemite camping trip. At the time, Rutledge had been participating in an educational program for schools where he would dress in Civil War and other uniforms to share what it was like to be a soldier in times past, so it was a natural step for Rutledge to portray Roosevelt.

The 1903 camping trip presentation was such a success that the two were invited to do the same dialogue for the Contra Costa County Mayors' Dinner a few months later in July 1999.

“I remember saying to the group after they applauded how nice it was to see such a large group of Republicans,” said Rutledge, referring to Roosevelt’s political party. “That almost got a universal laugh,” he said.

Rutledge has since gone on to appear several times as Roosevelt, including as the keynote speaker a few years ago at a July 4 picnic in Pleasanton. His efforts earned him an Outstanding Volunteer Service Medal by the Army in 2004.

In his professional life, Rutledge oversees educational programs at Santa Rita Jail for the Tri-Valley Regional Occupational Program. He said he enjoys portraying Roosevelt because it offers others a glimpse of the past, just as holding a book or historic postcard connects us to those who came before us.

“I love history,” said Rutledge. “It keeps us in touch with our ancestors and gives us a sense of direction.”

For more about the Pleasanton lecture series and upcoming speakers and events, visit

www.museumonmain.org.

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A shorter version of this column and this photo appeared in the Valley Times and the Tri-Valley Herald in May 2010.

This is a story of two inspiring people whose lives connected 12 years ago in an elementary school in Pleasanton, California.

Josh Burger is a senior at Pleasanton’s Amador Valley High School, and Patricia Poor has been his aide since he was in first grade.

“I only expected to work with Josh for a year because doctors predicted he wouldn’t live very long,” said Poor, who lives in San Ramon. “But Josh surprised us all.”

In fact, Burger was expected to live only a few minutes after an ultrasound showed a disfigured 20-week fetus.

“The doctors recommended abortion,” said Burger, who weighs just 32 pounds. “But my parents believed God created me for a reason and it wasn’t their right to end my short life.”

Called Atelosteogenesis Syndrome Type III, Burger’s condition is so rare that fewer than 10 people in the world have it, and he’s the oldest-known survivor. Every bone in his body is misshapen. He has only one functional lung and an enlarged heart. He’s missing bones in his legs and can’t walk. He can’t bend the fingers in his right hand. He is deaf without hearing aids, didn’t speak until age 5, and was born with a cleft palate.

Yet Burger beat the odds and survived his first years of life. Determined to have her son experience life to the fullest, Burger's mother enrolled him in first grade. There they both met Patricia Poor.

Born in England, Poor moved to southern California in 1970 in her early twenties. She eventually moved to the Tri-Valley where she earned her associate of arts degree in Special Education at Chabot and Las Positas Colleges. With this training, she applied to become a special aide for a special boy, and she got the job.

“I’ve enjoyed assisting Josh,” said Poor, who has the distinction of being one of the only adults to attend every single grade all over again as the boy became a young man. “Josh has a positive outlook and every day says something to make me laugh.”

For Burger, his outlook on life has not always been so positive.

“In second grade I realized I was different from everyone else,” he said. “I was frustrated when I couldn’t ride a bike or hold a pencil right or wear shoes.”

Burger’s frustration turned into tears and anger. “I was mad at God,” he said.

But after several months, his anger ebbed as Burger realized that “maybe my little body was God’s gift to me and what I did with it, and with my life, was my gift back to Him.”

According to Frank Burger, Josh’s father, Poor played a vital role 7 hours a day, 180 days a year for 12 years encouraging and protecting his son. “Josh has learned to be more independent through her nudging,” he said. “We’ve never worried about him because of her guiding care and how she taught other children to show respect for him.”

Today, Josh Burger gets around lying on his stomach on a motorized wheelchair he controls. His accomplishments include meeting George Bush and helping raise money for Paul Newman’s Painted Turtle Camp for disabled kids where he met celebrities such as Tom Hanks.

After Hurricane Katrina, Burger raised relief funds by getting a Mohawk haircut, wearing wrap-around sunglasses and having a Chihuahua stand on his back as he patrolled the Pleasanton Farmer’s Market for donations. He and his friends raised $30,000.

In June, Burger and Poor will say their goodbyes as he graduates and she retires. Like his aide, he plans to attend Las Positas College. Although his prognosis and life expectancy is unknown, Burger looks forward to discovering what’s next after graduation.

“Like everyone, I want to do something with my life," he said. "Something great.”

Seeking redemption and the edges of our limits

Last year I participated in a one-day 206-mile bike ride called the Devil Mountain Double Century. I got as far as 165 miles and dropped out.

My excuse?

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I’d run a 50-mile race just two weeks before and was still feeling the effects of that ultra-marathon.

Not to mention I’d never ridden a “double century,” which by definition is two 100-mile rides combined into one long day. In fact, the Devil Mountain Double registration form states “This should not be your first double! This is a very tough ride.” And later, “You have been warned!”

For a 50-something baby boomer like me who heard the call of endurance sports when Frank Shorter won the Olympic marathon in 1972, placing a warning about the difficulty of an event makes the appeal that much stronger.

The moment I dropped out of last year’s ride, I started planning my revenge for 2010. My diabolical plan was to skip the 50-mile run, cycle many miles, add weight training to strengthen my core and legs, and ride, at least once, every section of the route--especially the toughest climbs--to gain course knowledge.

Keep in mind, the DMD course includes 20,000 feet of elevation gain. Some 200 riders from as far away as England signed up for the event that took place on April 24. And this year we were joined by ultra-marathon legend Ann Trason who won the Western States 100-Mile Endurance run 14 times.
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The DMD starts in San Ramon and goes over Mt. Diablo, over Morgan Territory Road, out to Tracy, back up Patterson Pass, out Tesla Road in Livermore to Mines Road, up to the top of Mt. Hamilton, down into San Jose and then into the foothills via Sierra Road, down Calaveras Road to Sunol, out Niles Canyon and up Palomares to Crow Canyon and Norris Canyon, and finishes back in San Ramon.
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Since misery loves company, I was joined this year by Steve Sherman, a local attorney who has finished two Ironman competitions and yet, like me, had never ridden a double century. We trained together, not just cycling on Saturdays but often running with our spouses and friends Jerry Pentin and Tom Hall usually 12 miles over mountain trails along the Pleasanton ridge on Sundays.

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In keeping with my not-so-secret plan to beat the devil, Steve and I rode every part of the course, sometimes several times. This was no small feat since we both lead extremely busy professional lives. But such commitment in the workplace is why these weekend rides are so vital to our physical and mental health. Cycling and running keeps us fit and, frankly, sane.

One of our favorite weekend training rides was Sierra Road in San Jose, an incredibly steep hill that is part of the Amgen Tour of California route that bites cyclists at approximately 150 miles during DMD. We knew that on the day of ride, we'd want to know exactly where we were and how far we had to go to the top of that monster.

For our training rides, we were often joined by several friends, including Bryan Gillette who is such an amazing cyclist that this year he set a goal to ride the DMD and then continue on to 300 miles in 24 hours “because I’ve never tested my limits,” he said. This 300-mile idea to push his outer limits prompted Jerry Pentin to re-title Bryan's ride "DMT," or Devil Mountain Triple.

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Jerry is also credited with redefining DMD to mean Dumb Means Dumb, since he refuses on principle to ride any farther than 100 miles at one time.
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Yes, I know. I probably do need to find a new group of friends. Though I can't think of better people to hang with on weekends. Plus, I'd easily trust my life in their hands.
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When the big day arrived, we awoke early to drive to the San Ramon Marriott where everyone saddled up to ride at 5 a.m.
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Steve and I set out on our odyssey, accompanied by Jerry who rode with us 9 miles to the base of Mt. Diablo. (See photo above with Jerry, me, and Steve.)

The ride was supported by 99 incredible volunteers who worked the rest stops, patrolled the roads to assist cyclists with flat tires and other needs, and offered rides for those who opted out along the way. We can't thank these volunteers enough for their energy and enthusiasm.

Somewhere around 80 miles Jan Sherman (Steve's wife) joined us to ride a long stretch to the 90-mile mark. Jan is a strong rider and trained with us during most of the rides. Seeing her friendly face helped boost our spirits.

As the miles ticked by, Steve and I often felt as if we could ride forever. But other times factors conspired to have us question whether we’d be able to finish. Keeping the right amount of calories and electrolytes and fluids in balance is essential to success in long runs and rides.

Like life itself, every endurance event has its high and low points. My low point came as I climbed the hot and difficult miles up Mt. Hamilton. Steve had ridden ahead and as I found myself coming around a certain turn in the road I stopped and got off my bike. I was breathing hard and wanted to quit. I wondered if I just wasn't cut out for such distances. My mind went into survival mode and quickly concluded that I'd never be able to train enough to finish the DMD.

I didn't realize it at the time, but where I'd stopped was only yards from a sad scene.
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While I was aware that several police and paramedic vehicles were blocking the road, I assumed someone had crashed his or her bike and was being assisted. I also assumed it was a cyclist coming downhill, and not a DMD rider.

I later learned that the cyclist was Tom Milton, age 56. He was a DMD rider, and had suffered a heart attack. Efforts to provide CPR were unsuccessful.

I simply had no idea.

As I stood on the edge of this tragedy, a volunteer named Katy came over and asked if I was okay. Another cyclist who looked to be in his 30s walked over as well. I decribed how I felt.

"Nibble on this," he said, as he pulled a quarter-sized tablet from a small plastic case. "It has a sweet taste and will make you feel better."

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Neither of their faces showed any sign that a fellow cyclist had lost his life just yards away.

I thanked them, nibbled the tablet, and started to walk with my bike. I passed by the vehicles and never thought to look to see what had happened.
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Within five minutes, my stomach settled and I climbed back on the bike.
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I knew Steve would be at the next rest stop waiting for me, and since he'd been there a while, I stopped only long enough to top off my bottles and guzzle most a Sierra Mist soda, a foreshadowing, perhaps, for the next major hill.

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Sure enough, we soon found ourselves encountering Sierra Road. I was surprised the climb was not as gruesome as I thought it would be. Last year I'd had to walk my bike up most of this beast. This year, I rode.

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As day turned to night we came to the rest stop titled Pet the Goat. I’d reached this stop last year and, yes, petted a goat named Aldo. Sadly, Steve never got to meet Aldo, who recently hoofed his way into goat heaven (his owner said he'd led a happy life), but Aldo 2.0 was on hand, along with the little goat’s mommy.

Trust me, after cycling 160 miles along a dark country road, it’s a joy to greet goats, chat with friendly volunteers, and slurp soup.

Of course, not even goats can top the warm embrace of family, friends and spouses who greeted us at the next stop. After meeting up with Jerry (again under cover of darkness), we cycled together to reach 181 miles in the small town of Sunol where so many friendly faces cheered us on.

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Seeing my wife Pam was especially wonderful. Getting a hug and kiss from her boosted my resolve to finish.

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So, did we make it? Did I find redemption among the beautiful vistas and desolate roads?
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Yes. We did it.
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Finishing ahead of us were friends Gary Boal and Barry Schwartz.
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And yes, Bryan Gillette accomplished his 300-mile trek to test his limits.
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Of course, only one of us that day truly reached our limit: To Tom Milton's family, please know how sad we are for your loss.
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To my wife and family and friends, thank you for this opportunity to redeem myself.
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And to Steve Sherman, my cycling companion these many months and for over 20 hours on the day of DMD, thanks for listening to my jokes, for your expertise about nutrition, for your moral support, for doing all the math before the ride and during the ride after my capacity to think had shut down, for waiting for me at the top of every hill, and for a day I will never forget. We said we'd do it, and we did, and I'd be honored to ride again with you any time.
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So, how about 60 miles this weekend?
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Local college celebrates Native American experience

How far back does your family go in California?

Dr. Amber Machamer of Las Positas College has ancestors that date back before the birth of Genghis Khan and Plato. In fact, Machamer’s relatives go back 10,000 years.

“I am Chumash from San Luis Obispo,” she said, referring to her Native American heritage.



Later this month on the evening of April 12, Machamer, who oversees institutional research and planning for the college, will present a documentary and speak about stereotypes, the use of American Indians as mascots, and the culture, history, and beliefs of her tribe to give people a sense of what real American Indian cultures are all about.

“The talk will be more of a question-and-answer session to build understanding with non-Native peoples,” she said. “It's appropriate for all ages.”

Machamer’s presentation is just one of the events to celebrate Native American culture that will occur April 12 to April 17, all of which culminate in the second-annual Pow Wow that last year brought hundreds of people to the campus. This year the Pow Wow will be held on Saturday, April 17 from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. in the college gymnasium.

Mario Jaramillo, this year’s student chairperson for the Native American Pow Wow and Exposition, said that last year’s event drew spectators and participants from all over California and even from other states.

“This is a living, breathing example of Native American culture as it is today,” he said. “The Pow Wow gives everyone a chance to immerse themselves into a world within the United States that has been thousands of years in the making.”

Some readers may remember that the Pow Wow was held for many years in Livermore before being moved to the campus. The event always includes music, dancing, arts and crafts, native food, and other activities and displays.

“This is a wonderful opportunity for our students and community members to learn about native culture outside of the classroom setting,” Jaramillo said.

According to Jane McCoy, a history professor at the college, the purpose of the exposition is to encourage a higher sense of cultural awareness within the college and the surrounding communities.

“Last year we had great reviews by the participants,” she said, “and we’re excited to bring the experience back to Las Positas College a second year.”

Other programs include a film festival featuring Native American films that will be shown all day and into the evenings in the Student Center on April 13 and 14.
On the evening of April 15, students will serve Native American food, free of charge, and provide dancers for entertainment including Aztec and California native dancers and a hoop dancer. Food will be served beginning at 6 p.m. and dancing will start at 6:45 p.m.

For Machamer, the week-long events are an opportunity for education about Native American cultures.



“As the original peoples of California,” she said, “we were created here. Spanish mission records trace my family back to the 1770s and primary source documents trace us back even further.”

Machamer explained that when the first Spanish ships came to California shores, her family was there to greet them. Her family’s village, what is today called Avila Beach, is known among Chumash as Tpaxtu, or “place of the whales.”

Many Chumash people were content to live at the new mission established in San Luis Obispo. In fact, with the help of the Chumash, this was the first mission to build its roof with clay tiles made from local adobe.

For details about the Native American Expo and Pow Wow, visit http://nacc.weebly.com/lpc-exposition.html.

Adopted son looks for birth mother

Published in the Valley Times in December 2009

Tod Pohlmann had always known he was adopted, but it wasn’t until he began his own family that he got serious about finding his birth mother.

Although his adoption records were sealed, Pohlmann, who manages the Starbucks on Santa Rita Road in Pleasanton, knew his mother’s date of birth and her first and middle name.

In fact, over the years he’d tried a few times to find this mystery woman, including a trip to Florida to visit what he believed was his mother’s high school. “The school secretary was very helpful,” Pohlmann said, explaining that she let him look through yearbooks for a girl named Virginia. “When I couldn’t find her, the secretary guessed my mom was a military brat and went to school on the nearby base.”

In his late twenties Pohlmann tried again, visiting a three-storey house on Post Street in San Francisco where he knew his mother had lived in the 1960s. The house was owned by a woman who rented out the second and third floors. “She was so nice to me,” Pohlmann said. “She said she remembered my mom as a tall redhead, but I’m not sure she really remembered her.”

Pohlmann was born in 1967 after his mother had traveled across the country with her cousin and her cousin’s boyfriend to be part of the San Francisco scene. “My dad was in the Navy,” he said. “I was a USO baby.”

Growing up in Milpitas with kind adoptive parents, Pohlmann never felt desperate about finding his birth mother. Still, once married and ready to have a child, he wanted to learn where he’d come from.

So in 1999, with assistance from a search consultant, Pohlmann got the phone number of a woman who matched the facts he knew. Taking a deep breath, he dialed.

“The phone rang a few times and a woman answered,” Pohlmann said. “I told her I was doing genealogical research and had a few questions.”

As the woman confirmed her birth day, year, and place of birth, she paused and asked for his name again. When he told her, her voice cracked.

"When I said she might know what this call was about, she asked for a moment and put the phone down,” he said.

“When she came back she was crying. We talked for more than two hours.”

Pohlmann said his mother, who goes by Vickie, felt a lot of guilt and apologized for giving him up for adoption. He assured her that his parents, who passed away in the early 1990s, had been wonderful and that he had a good life.
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Within weeks of the call, Vickie was on a plane to California to meet her son. The meeting was emotional, and today Pohlmann’s10-year-old daughter Kiley has a grandmother she might otherwise never have met.
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Asked if he would advise adopted children to seek out their birth parents, Pohlmann hesitated, then said he would. “But you never know if you’re going to find the Rockefellers or people who’ll want to move in with you the next day,” he said. “You need to realize the commitment you’re about to make.”
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Next for Pohlmann is whether to find his biological father. With the internet these days, it shouldn’t be difficult. Family members are uncertain, and Pohlmann, who is undecided, wonders whether he'll take this next step.