Sibling Chronicles: Chapter Four

So even though we have had the big meltdown here in Portland--last night at bedtime it was 50 degrees, woo hoo!--I still seem to have plenty of free time to update my blog. It is so much less stressful now that the holidays are over, the snow is gone and I am not anxiously waiting for UPS packages to arrive (which never did, by the way). Joey's gifts are not even going to make it here by the last night of Hanukah (tonight). I am now boycotting UPS. Fedex and the US Postal Service delivered their packages on time. For Pete's Sake, the paper guy and the NW Natural Gas Meter Reader even made it to our house last week, but not UPS. That just doesn't seem right.

On with the blog. This Chapter of the Sibling Chronicles is dedicated to sibling #6, Byron Gene Godsey: My Dad's First Son, Hallelujah. I'm not sure if ultrasounds were around back in 1976-77, but if they were, surely Dad had started his celebration early. If not, then March 26, 1977 was a gloriously exciting day. Byron was named after Papa Nip (Byron Isanhart) and Dad himself (Loy Gene).

Everyone loved holding Byron, especially me at age 13.

I put this picture in because I think it is so

funny. Kim looks to be in a real mood.

Byron's 1st Birthday.

So, it seems, if memory serves that sometime around Byron's 2nd Birthday he contracted Spinal Meningitis. It was most devastating for the entire family. Sarah was a baby and Karen was pregnant with Betsy. Byron was rushed to Hood River General Hospital. I was a freshman in High School in Portland. His condition was so bad they did not even feel he would make it if they life-flighted him to Portland. Now that is pretty bad since it is only an hour's drive.

Tiff and I were brought in one evening when the doctors only gave him... and I am pulling off a teenage memory here, a 20% chance to make it through the night. We went to the hospital, possibly to say good-bye and he was being blessed by a bunch of men from the church. Karen was basically living at the hospital and everything was just so out of place.

I actually cannot think of a sadder moment in my life. I mean, I was devastated when my Grandparent's died, but they had lived a life... Byron had barely lived at all. And the tests they were doing on him were supposed to be some of the most painful. It just wasn't fair.

By some miracle, Byron made it through everything. He couldn't walk or talk (which of course he had been able to do before the illness), but he had the most amazing disposition and he quickly re-learned everything he had been able to do before and more, lots more.

This picture was taken on one of our summer trips to Sunriver. We had been spending our summer vacations at Neskowin on the Oregon Coast, but every year it rained, so Dad switched to Sunriver. We all rode bikes and swam and generally had a blast. This particular summer Byron was still re-learning some coordination, but nothing could ever stop that kid--he had skills.

This picture was taken at Nana & Papa's house in

Tillamook when Byron was three.

Here's a picture at the Hood River house on State Street.

The pictures are really starting to remind me of Bridget now.

This may have been taken some time around the time Byron

drove the car into Karen's freshly planted garden.

Like I said, the kid had skills--driving at three. Such good times.

Another all-time favorite.

Ahhh, and then the Godsey family moved from Oregon to Arizona and along went a bunch of my siblings with them. Byron has found a frog... and is very happy about it. That 'Dukes of Hazzard' t-shirt must be lucky.

Two more siblings arrive in Arizona. Byron is holding Ben. More boys, yay! Possibly the Golden Child will have to share his throne? As it turns out, not really.

Mesa, Arizona is one big playground where t-shirts in the winter time are standard attire.

Byron, age 9 comes to the airport to see me off when I leave Arizona for Kyoto, Japan.

Quite a trio--reminds me of Sand Lot. Hey, Byron is already wearing a Blazer's cap--and his destiny was set. Not sure about the other two and their hats...

A visit to Byron in Hawaii before he graduates and returns to civilization.

Byron and Jennifer, November 27, 2004.

And the adventure continues....

Sammy's Sledding Adventure

Sammy and his friend Austin decided to use the neighbor's steep front steps as a launching point for their sled track. Only a few minor injuries reported.

Beginner's Luck

So there are a few people that are just going to cringe when they see this post--if they see this post. Yeah, I'm talking about you, Byron and Sammy. Also, fair warning that this is not one of my normal "photo album" type blog entries. Just a couple pictures of a cute football player I know and a lot of words.

This is the overdue Fantasy Football post. Now, growing up my Dad watched a lot of sports. Really--probably every televised sport. I don't remember soccer--but maybe it wasn't televised back then. So, I liked watching sports with my Dad, especially baseball, the World Series and all that. Basketball was a favorite because we actually have the Trailblazers and they even won a Championship when I was a kid. I also liked watching tennis and golf. There were two sports, however, that I really didn't care for, and those were boxing and football. Boxing is horrible (and I still think so) and I just never could understand the intrigue of football. One year when Michael was in Law School studying 24/7, I was SO BORED I decided to watch the Super Bowl. Oh yeah, that was a good three hours totally wasted. What a horribly boring game and I'm sure they didn't have cool commercials every 5 minutes like they do now. I actually called my Dad and said what a stupid, boring game and he said "well, you can't judge football by the Super Bowl--that is usually the most mismatched worthless game of the year" and I thought: How good can this sport be if the culmination of the entire season is the worst game of the year--what is the point?

When Joey was born, my Dad gave him a stuffed football and I said: (and here is where words come back to bite you in the ass)... "no kid of mine will EVER play football".

Anyway, years passed and, of course, Joey never did play football, but as EVERYONE knows Sammy adores the sport and he begged to play from the minute he found out that when he got to 3rd grade he could play tackle football. We were told by friends that football has the best conditioning and that with all the pads and helmet and everything (and at 3rd grade) it was actually safer than baseball--and Sammy REALLY wanted to play, so I gave in.

Apparently tough football players aren't allowed to smile

Sammy played football for five years. Why did he stop? Six foot, 250 pound 7th grade linemen-- on the other team--of course. In the end, Sammy is a self preservationist and we are very happy that he is.

Meanwhile, football started to grow on me... a little. When I started watching football on TV with Sammy, I started to enjoy it a little more. Then, Andy got a GTT Fantasy Football Team up and running this past Fall. I, actually and ironically, did not make the cut of those at GTT that were invited to manage their own team (and its not like we are a big company or anything, but I digress). Sammy (The Killa Beasts) and Michael (Patent Justice) had their own teams. I quickly became interested in how the whole Fantasy Football phenomenon worked. I, of course, was rooting for Sammy. Anyway, Michael could see my growing interest in Fantasy Football and about 3 weeks into the 16 week season he asked me to help him co-Manage his team. Well, just like everything else around here, once I got involved, Michael decided I could do all the work and he would just sit back and be the silent partner. For the first couple weeks I relied heavily on Michael and Sammy to help me manage the team, but then, I realized, the whole thing is about 90% luck (Byron says 50% luck, 50% skill) but I stand firm with my 90% luck, 10% skill. And guess what.... well, we won (and its not like we had a really awesome team or anything)! So, I, someone who barely tolerated football most of my life, and who has absolutely no knowledge or background regarding football players or positions or teams was able to beat 9 full grown football loving Men (well, 7 full grown men and a couple of 15 year olds). How does that happen? LUCK, that's how. And, yes, I bask in the glory of "my" win.