Tulare and Visalia

Mark drove us to Paso Robles to meet my great uncle John Lampe, who would drive us two hours to his home in Tulare, CA. It was here, in the denny's parking lot that we would say goodbye to Mark. Having crossed the country twice with Mark and his trusty Ram pickup, I can confidently say there is no better road trip companion. I'm going to miss him.

My grandma's family on my mothers side were Okies who moved to Tulare, CA in 1937 seeking a better life after the depression - straight out of a Steinbeck novel. My great-grandparents started the Lampe Lumber company and most children and grandchildren worked for some time at the saw mill. My grandma came to Marquette University by train when she was 16 years old to study journalism, and ended up staying. Th rest of the Lampe clan remains on the West coast. Great Uncle John, my grandma's brother, hauled lumber from the Sierras to LA for over 50 years. On the ride home he told stories of spending an entire day cutting down one giant redwood, making a soft bed for it to fall on, and quartering the fallen tree lengthwise in order to load it onto the trailer. I liked uncle John immediately. He was in excellent health for 80, except for an absessed tooth for which he would have to see the "god-damned dentist" the following day. He told us about his children, and riffed about the mass ammounts of wine-grapes we drove past in the central valley. John argued that there is no difference between a $6 bottle and a $60 bottle. He said his son Mike thinks he knows a lot about wine, but he's really full of shit. I liked uncle John.

When we arrived at John's house, his sweet wife Joyce opened the door and immediately offered us a beer. It was almost 3:00pm, why not? Joyce had arranged for most of the family in the area to gather at her home to meet me, one of the long lost relatives from Wisconsin. Great Uncle Tom and Aunt Joan soon arrived followed by their son Paul, and John and Joyce's daughter Susie, with two of her kids. My grandma's sister katie married my grandpa's brother, so there is a line of double cousins. Tom Griesbach is one such cousin. He told stories of hiking with my Wisconsin Uncles in the mountains. Tom arranged to take us up to see Fr. Johnny the next morning - another of my mom's cousins who had become a priest and director of a beautiful retreat center in the foothills of the Sierras. We visited awhile and ate a couple pizzas with Uncle John over an intense conversation about politics.

John and Joyce drove us 10 miles to Visalia after dinner to stay with their son Mike, who has plenty of room for an army in his family's enormous home in a gated community. Uncle John told the security guard at the gate he had to drop off a couple jailbirds. Blair and I both got our own rooms and bathrooms, and marveled at the beautiful home. We were introduced to Mike Lampe's stepson Nick who was a Junior at Fresno State, and his younger son, Caihlen. Nick took us for a pontoon boat ride in the man-made lake behind the home that was more like a canal offering views of the other ridiculous estates in the neighborhood. Mike and Cindy were away at a concert, so we had the place to ourselves. We had a couple cocktails with expensive rum and talked to Nick. Mike and Cindy didn't get home until after we crashed, so I had yet to meet our host.

The next night we returned home late after seeing Sequoia and eating a delicious dinner in Three Rivers. That expedition is deserving of its own posting, since it is so beautiful and magnificient. Mike and Cindy were in bed when we got in, so I met Mike Lampe for two minutes when he let us in, and that was it for the two nights we stayed at his house. Uncle John picked us up the following morning and drove us to Fresno to pick up our rental car. I'm very glad I had the opportunity to meet my Grandma's family in California. They were extremely kind and generous.