This Saturday, Jan. 18, the good folks of our Glen Ellen Historical Society hold their annual retreat. They’ll be looking at plans for this new year, unfolding now. You don’t need to be a member of the board to attend their daylong event. It begins at 10 a.m. continuing into late afternoon. Only current board members can vote, but everyone can contribute ideas and enthusiasm. Mayflower Hall, in the heart of our village, at 5311 O’Donnell Lane, is the place. You’ll be welcomed by board members Arthur Dawson, president; Archie Horton, vice president; Angela Nardo-Morgan, secretary; Mary Kate Carter, treasurer; Charles Mikulik, cultural resource officer; and members at large Marge Everidge, Anne Teller, Phyllis Heppe, Steve Lee, Jim Berkland, Gregg Montgomery, and Pat Carlin. Emeritus members, always honored, may also attend (if not in person, always in spirit); they include, Dorothy Johnson, Pat Mazzini, and Bob Glotzbach. See you there.
Forward to the past
Recently a few members of the Glen Ellen Historical Society completed a gorgeous gallery of historic photos lining the corridor of the main building at Jack London Village. Find the photos in the hallway adjacent to Yeti and leading to Olive and Vine.
The project was funded by a grant from the Sonoma County Landmarks Commission. Jim Shere wrote the grant, then Don Ponte, local artist, designed and built the display panels and mounted the photographs. Further help was provided by artist Archie Horton and woodworker Michael Everidge. David and Maria Shere did the coding and design for the society’s website. Each display includes small narrative plaques with QR codes (a sort of hyped bar code so that you can access detailed information via your smart phone while visiting the displays). I love this novel juxtaposition of technology enhancing history. Bravo to the Glen Ellen Historical Society for forward thinking while honoring our past.
Taking a celebreak
My personal hustle and bustle of family festivities surrounding the holidays seems to have slowed (and believe me, in our extended clan, tribe, sept and settle, celebrations abound, unbound by any specific religion or nation). As I gaze across my cluttered desktop (which also serves as the dining room table), I see a couple of Michael Chabon’s novels which await my reading (either I read them now or devise another round of excuses to my beloved book club friends who might be tempted to boot a lack-luster reader, as it seems I seasonally become). Next to those two tomes is a pile of old New Yorkers. Not merely members of my sweetie’s side of the family (as a friend once joked to me as I explained that old New Yorkers were piling up in my bedroom). It’s just magazines. But magazines that I love curling up with by a warm fire, especially as these days remain oddly cold, and even more oddly dry.
Young visitor recalls old Glen Ellen
Today, foregoing the need to tackle column subjects, I promised myself that I would tackle the pile of New Yorkers, I would enjoy the fire, and I would do little else. But one doesn’t always get what one wants, but one does get what one needs (so says old Mick, that dancing fool). What I needed were several visits from old friends, which I thoroughly enjoyed, even if it delayed my quota of reading for that day.