The River Academy 1998-99

Going to the TRA Benefit Dinner tonight. Here is a photo of the entire TRA Board, teaching and administrative staff for our first year (1998-99.) Josiah Helsel, our Latin instructor, turned 16 the second day of school.



L to R: Joshua Appel, Doug Milner, Laurie Greer, Josiah Helsel, Merrill Miller, A. Strange Pearson.

Four of a Thousand

God's promises are so vast and amazing that the only way to embrace them is by faith. Neither reason nor Kierkegaard's "leap into the void" will do. Only resting in what God has declared in His most holy Word.

One of the promises "too glad to be true" is God's covenant to bless His people "unto a thousand generations." Pictured below are four of such. Little Will is the only and firstborn son of Josiah, the eldest and firstborn son of Gene, the eldest and firstborn son of Verle, the eldest and firstborn son of Harold (not pictured) who was himself the eldest and firstborn son of John (not pictured.)

Looking at this picture I am near moved to tears as I am reminded of the blessings that I enjoy both up and downstream. And this is but 4/1000ths of what God has promised to those who believe what He has revealed about His extravagant love for the world.

Dan and I

On March 2, 1962 Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points as his team, the Philadelpha Warriors defeated the New York Knicks 169 to 147. One of his teammates who scored a single point that night would later remark, "Yeah, I remember the night that Wilt Chamberlain and I combined to score 101 points in a single game..."

Now, hold that thought for a moment.

Pictured above are Dan and Karen Bass. Karen is the one who, togther with my beautiful wife, envisioned and designed our new kitchen. Dan was our contractor/craftsman on the project. It was a joy to work with believers, and our love and respect for the Basses only grew during the weeks that we were working closely together.

After a few months have gone by, my plan is to casually remark to admirers of our new kitchen, "Yeah, this is the kitchen that Dan Bass and I remodeled together..."

All Things New

For my wife's birthday last May, her sister, Nina, gave Ellen a kitchen remodel. Now that the renovation is nearly complete I have concluded that there is something decidedly Christian about home-remodel projects. At the very least they are potent metaphors for God's saving and sanctifying work in the life of a believer. Viz:

Costly. Both salvation and home-renovation are costly endeavors. And in our case both could only have been accomplished through the gracious provision of another.

New and yet the same. Considered one way, the saved-sinner and the newly-remodeled kitchen are the same; the same locus, the same recognizable "shape", performing the same sorts of daily routines/duties. But considered another way, the saved sinner and the newly-remodeled kitchen are vastly different. That which was old, ugly and disfunctional has been replaced by that which is new, beautiful and useful.

Slow and hard. Unlike the "Extreme Home Makeover" show on TV, remodeling/sanctification are "slow and hard." If the changes are going to last and be a blessing for generations to come, they must be done carefully, and they must be done in a particular order (each new change dependent upon the changes that preceded it.) The renovation must be done by a Master-craftsman who knows the master-plan and the appropriate materials to use. The project must be overseen by a contractor who possesses the right tools to demolish and rebuild; a workman who can labor patiently and lovingly with raw material that will quite often resist his renovative plans and purposes.

Never quite finished in this life. Our house was built in 1921 and we have lived here for the last 16 years. Although we are only the third owner of the house, it has seen quite a few repairs, renovations and remodels over the years. And it continues to be, just like its inhabitants, a work in progress.

The Ol' CZ

I grew up riding motorcycles with my dad and brother. My dad's brother (Uncle Herb) owned a Suzuki/CZ motorcycle store down in Cottage Grove, Oregon. My first bike was a Suzuki Trail 120, followed by a Honcho 90, followed by a Duster 125 which I stripped down and raced a few times and then purchased my first (and only) factory race bike: The CZ 250. CZs were made in Czechlosovakia, weighed a ton, but had mountains of torque and a near indestructible gear box. I had my uncle Herb modify the bike pictured above giving the suspension a whopping 7 inches of travel, front and rear (today's bikes, routinely have over double that!)

There were three riders who rode/raced CZs at the Puyallup Raceways Motorcross Park in the early seventies. During the winter months, all of us would pray for the starting gate to freeze in the ground, forcing what is called a hand-on-helmet start. When the starter raised the green flag above his head, all of the riders were required to place their left (clutch) hand on their helmets. When the official dropped the flag, (non-CZ) riders would grab their clutch levers, stomp their shift levers into first gear, pop their clutches and try to outrun the other riders to the first corner. We three, we happy three, we band of CZ brothers would skip the clutch-grabbing part and with the engine screaming at 3/4 throttle, stomp the bikes directly into first gear, and accelerate noisily to the "hole-shot" in the first corner. Frozen-gate races were the only races that we were first into the corner, and we savored every opportunity we were given to out-scramble the much quicker "Jap bikes."

It's kinda fun to think about the Lord of Creation "fixing" races with a wave of His frost-bestowing hand, and thereby enabling the fat and slow ones to have their day on the track. Well, at least every once in a while...

The Finest Chevy Ever Made

In my humble opinion, I think the finest car Chevrolet ever made was the '66 Chevelle Malibu. My first car was a midnight blue version of the car pictured here. It had a 327 with a four-barrel carb under the hood, dual exhaust with cherry bomb mufflers and sported the classic Cragar mag wheels. It was a four-speed with a "Trooper" rear end which meant that it would do 55 mph in first gear; up and over 75 in second; up and over 100 mph in third gear; and in fourth gear...well I never had the guts to let it all the way out in fourth. Fun to drive on the highway. Not so fun on the hills of Seattle in traffic.

The '65 Malibus were too boxy, and the grill-work and tail-lights '67 Malibus got too complicated. But the '66...perfection! Clean lines from front to back, tasteful accents, a roomy interior, power to pass and an engine that you could actually work on without a master's degree in electronics and environmental science. Ah yes, the good ol' days.

I later owned a red '66 Malibu with a 283 and a four-speed. And even later, after we started having kids, in an effort to blend aesthetics with practicality, we purchased and restored a '66 Malibu station-wagon. I loved it, but my dear wife was, shall we say, a little less sanguine about the ol' wagon.