This is a work in progress. My goal is to divide the material into chapters. More information and fun stories will be added. I just need to get something on paper so I can add to it. I truly have had a very eventful life with so many fun-even bizarre experiences. When finished my autobiography will most like read like fiction, but it will all be true. Of course, it is my life as I look back on it when I am working in a sanguine mood.
Autobiography of Janice VanCleave
I was born in Houston, Texas on January 27, 1942 and was an only child until I was almost 5 years old. There always seemed to be adults, such as aunts and uncles, that periodically lived with us. So I was treated like a fairy princess. One of my younger unmarried aunts often had me entertaining her friends. She would play the piano and I would sing and dance. Since my hair was long, she even had it curled in what was called “Shirley Temple” curls. I really thought I was talented. But why shouldn’t I, my adult audience gave me nothing but praise. I did take tap and ballet from preschool through the fourth grade. I danced on stages in theaters as well as on a local television program, but finally lost interest. Or was it the talent show that I entered that ended my dance career. I actually don’t remember being on stage, but have no memories of ever taking dance lessons again. UUM!!! I could not have performed worse than I did for my first piano recital. I was 12 yrs old and had only been taking lessons for a few months. I remember that the piece I was pecking out with a few fingers was called Cubby the Bear. That has only been 58 years ago and I can still remember the name of the music as well as how I felt when I messed up playing the piece. When I hit the wrong note, I struck the keys, rotated on the piano bench, and with head held high announced that I would start over. I completed the piece, bowed and all the while resolving that it would was my first and last piano recital. I continued taking music lessons but at the end of the year when it was time to prepare for a recital, I informed the teacher that I would not play. She insisted, call my mom, etc…. I stopped taking lessons.
( insert story of Dad selling the piano without telling mom and I. We came home in time to stop him from loading the piano on a truck. He had it about half way out the front door.– that was dad–Mr. Wheeler Dealer. He would sell our beds if someone gave him the right price. He figured we could buy new ones. He did bring home a lot of musical instruments–A trumpet–I blew it when I had the mumps because I was told that I wouldn’t be able to do it. Also ate a lemon——An electric guitar–that was fun. An accordion–never got the hang of that squeeze box–but we never had the instruments long enough to learn how to play them. They were part of some trade dad had made.)
I was 4 years and 10 months old when my mother gave birth to twins, my brother, Dennis and my sister, Dianne. It had not been an easy pregnancy for my mom and on several occasions she had to be taken to the hospital. The first time was when I was at school. My mom had never been gone when I came home from school and I was not a happy camper when I discovered she was missing. I actually was frightened but appeared to be a spoiled out of control kid as I ran through the house looking for my mom. Well, maybe I was a bit spoiled-ha. My dad’s mom –my least favorite grandmother– had ideas about what should be done to make me behave and they all involved a board and my bottom. But my aunt was sure that she could console me by allowing me to roller skate around in the house. Yikes!! That must have really messed up the floors. I do remember how much fun it was but only for a time. How long can a kid skate. When the skating was over and mom had not showed up my aunt did everything she could but I was hard to handle. But dad appeared and all was at least partly well. At least, I was in control. I don’t remember dad spanking me but I wasn’t going to test him to see if he would. Mom was home in few days and life was rosy again.
Mom and I discussed how my life would change when the new baby came. She had no idea that she was having twins. She told me that I probably would be unhappy about the baby getting into my stuff. Now where did this lady with a 10 th grade education pick up on this trick of reverse psychology? Must just be a mom thing. I assured her that I was going to love the baby. I was so excited about the new baby that I dreamed about it being my live doll.
No one knew that it was going to be two babies instead of one. If you think twins disrupt a household now, think how it was in the late 40’s. All those diapers to wash and hang on the line. That’s right, there were no clothes dryers and the washing machine was one of those types with the rollers. Washing was a full day job. Guess who got to watch the babies while mom did her household chores? I can’t say it was all work. They were lots of fun times. Actually, I created ways to entertain the babies, such as pulling them around the yard on a blanket. Mom did get a bit excited about this activity since the babies were bumping their heads as I raced across the lawn pulling the blanket as fast as I could.
While there were two siblings, they were almost five years younger than me and unlike in my dreams, I didn’t want to play with the live babies all the time. So, most of my memories are of things that I did by myself. I had different creative periods as a child as I do as an adult There was the paper doll period when I spent hours designing clothes for paper dolls. I would lay paper over a paper doll and draw a dress around her. Adding tabs to bend over her shoulders and around her waist. These designs would be colored and cut out. I had cigar boxes full of paper dolls and clothes. It wasn’t that my parents couldn’t purchase more dolls and clothes for me, I preferred my own designs. I don’t remember what I did with all those dolls and cloths. Once my interest in the paper dolls was over I may have thrown them out or given them away.
The marble period was also short. During this time I collected marbles, some I bought others I traded for or won from neighborhood boys in marble shooting contests. Most girls did not play marble games. Boys seemed to have had the idea that girls were not good at “boy” games, so I found it exciting to beat them if I could. Not because they were boys but because they said I couldn’t. Actually I won a lot of their marbles and stored them in a large cigar box. As with other things, I soon tired of playing marbles and either read or saw a movie about hidden treasure. So, I buried my box of marbles in the woods adjacent to my house and covered the ground with leaves and limbs. I did make a treasure map so that I could later find the box, but after some time had passed I looked for the treasure and it was never to be found. I periodically searched for that box of marbles but finally decided that some pirate must have seen me bury it and dug it up after I left. Someone is probably still telling the story of being a kid and finding a box of beautiful marbles in the woods.
Adult creative periods include ceramics, oil painting and writing. When I say I had a ceramic period, I don’t mean I did a few ceramic items. I started with a ceramic cup and in short time had my husband to build shelves across one wall of our bedroom so that I could store the ceramic pieces in their different stages of production. I prepared chess sets, canister sets, bowls cups, etc. Every friend and relative received ceramic pieces as presents for birthdays and Christmas. This period lasted for about 1 year, but the oil painting period was longer. It took a bit of time to take lessons. But once I had a few lessons I took off painting. Of course, like the ceramic period, friends and relatives received paintings whether they wanted them or not. It may have been easy to display a piece of pottery for a while just to me nice, but it never occurred to me that a painting is a personal item that one selects. No matter, I was off and running and turned out art. I do mean turning out art. I even bought a miter box, which is a special type of saw apparatus used to cut angles. I needed this to cut the angles for picture frames. You are probably getting the idea by now that now only did I paint pictures, I framed them. I got good at framing, can’t really say that my art was that great. I enjoyed most doing things for kids. I would purchase a fun story book and paint one of the scenes. So the child not only had a book, they had a picture from Aunt Jane. That is what my nieces and nephews call me.
Television and video games were non existing when I was a young child. This admission makes me seem very old, but the truth is that so much technology has developed during my lifetime. Without television, one way that kids entertained themselves was by listening to the radio. I personally hated music programs and waited anxiously for story programs. Radio was a time of imagination. When you listen to a story being acted out via the radio you have to visualize the scenes in your mind. It is true that a picture is worth a thousand words and without the pictures, careful attention to the words and sounds of the radio program were absolutely necessary. Evenings were a time of quiet family togetherness as my family grouped near the radio hanging on every word of the “Cisco Kid” or the “Long Ranger” as they unveiled the plot of the story. Kids didn’t have to be reminded to be quiet, they were as engrossed with the story as were the adults. Besides if you were noisy you might be sent to your room. This was a real punishment because there wasn’t much you could do there if you were not allowed to take a book to read.
Reading was another activity that I enjoyed, and I read all kinds of books from Davy Crocket’s adventures, Nancy Drew mysteries to Bible stories. There were no wonderful bookstores as there are today and while my parents were good providers, buying books was not in our budget. But, comics and magazines were another story. I often walked the 6 blocks to our local store to purchase comics for me and my dad. He loved monster stuff and I wanted comics and later romance. There must have been something lacking in my body chemistry because I craved lemons my entire childhood and long into my adult life. I’d buy a dozen lemons and as many comics and spend the day eating the lemons, peel and all and reading. I’ve eaten so many lemons during my life that the acid has etched my teeth. While the lemons were inexpensive, the bonding on my teeth to repair the damage was not.
While I had a steady diet of comics, they did not satisfy my hunger to read. We lived on the outskirts of Houston, which would be considered a very rural area today. There were a few houses around but mostly we were surrounded by wooded lots and traveled on dirt roads. During the first four years of school, I rode a bus to school. Later an elementary school was build about 1/2 mile away. It was on a dirt road and I enjoyed walking to school. These rural schools did not have much of a library but there was always the Book Mobile. As a child I never thought much about the Book Mobile. It came every week so I just expected it to be there. I now appreciate the workers that took the time to provide the opportunity for me to read. I was an avid reader and had no special topic that I was interested in. Sometimes I would read a book because I liked the picture on the cover. I don’t remember anything about the authors or the titles of the books, but I once read a series of books that involved the blue willow pattern on china. I still like this pattern, but don’t have a clue what the books were about.
I was an imaginative child and fantasized by acting out the scenes in my mind. To this day I can still feel the excitement of reading about a character preparing to visit a distant relative and how she selected hair ribbons to match her clothes. I thought that was such a neat thing to do. I really wanted to be like the characters that I read about, but the desire for buttons and bows usually was short lived. In reality I was a tomboy. But in one of the stories I read, the female character tied a black satin ribbon around her neck and pinned a cameo to the front of the ribbon. I was so caught up in the plot that I wanted to look elegant like the girl in the book. I didn’t have a black satin ribbon, but mom kept all kinds of things in her sewing cabinet. Maybe there was a ribbon. I was almost correct. There was a black brassiere with black straps. My thought was that the garment was most likely not any good if it was in the sewing drawer, so I cut off one of the straps. It was just the right size to fit around my neck. Now for the cameo. Mom had a collection of jewelry that I’d purchased for her for different events and there was a pin–not a cameo but it would do. About that jewelry, at the time I never questioned the fact that mom never wore any of it, but then dad never wore any of the ties I bought him either. Guess a truck driver didn’t have much use for ties, but he and mom were always happy with my presents.
Yes, I went to school wearing the black bra strap around my neck with the attached pin drawing attention to it. I must admit that I had second thoughts about not asking permission to cut off the strap. This was just one of many times that I got so excited about my project that I didn’t stop to ask permission. It wasn’t that I was a disobedient child, I was generally finished with the project before realizing that I had not gotten permission. I immediately regretted my actions and sincerely promised myself that I’d not do it again, and I meant it. The problem was that when the creative juices started flowing I was like a run-away train that couldn’t be stopped. This behavior plagues me even as an adult.
Even though I was repentant about cutting the bra strap off, I still wanted to wear it but feared mom would be mad and take it from me. Now came the hard part, I’d already cut the strap so I had to decide when I would reap the rewards of my actions, now or after I had waltzed into school and dazzled everyone with my elegant attire. I really was a dreamer. So, I was careful not to display my new creation before leaving for school. I don’t recall any particular comments from anyone, but my teacher may had added the event to stories she shared with other teachers. While school was relatively uneventful that day, my mother’s reaction when I returned home was not. I’d gotten use to the “ribbon” around my neck and forgot to remove it. Imagine my surprise when my mother ask if I had gone to school with a brassiere strap tied around my neck. Now how did she know it was a brassiere strap? I thought it looked like a ribbon. She was more upset that I’d embarrassed her by wearing a brassiere strap in public than by the fact that I’d destroyed the garment.
Movies were a regular Saturday event. Even as a young child it was safe for children to catch a bus and go to the movie theater. It cost me 9 cents to get in the theater and popcorn, sodas and candy bars were 5 cents each. Bus fare was 4 cents and I often walked the three miles to save the 4 cents. After all, 1 more penny would buy a candy bar.
Sunday was a time for church. I liked Sunday School best and loved getting a sticker placed on my attendance picture. I still have one of the pictures somewhere. While I liked attending Bible classes, I liked teaching better and taught my first class at the age of 11. Well, I thought I was the teacher. Actually I was the helper but came to class with things for the little kids to do and even attended training classes with the adults. I still like working with children at church and have spent many summers directing Bible School Crafts. Bible School is lots of fun. It is a short condensed day camp designed to introduce children to the excitement of a relationship with Jesus. The adult workers are drained when it is over and whine a bit about being tired, but we all sign up the following summer to do it again. I must admit that I now agree to train others to teach the classes. My daughter has picked up where I left off.
Being a scientist, my Bible craft classes are mostly about science. Science has always been my passion and I’ve never found being a Christian and a scientist to be contradictory. I think God staged creation with just enough mystery to keep inquiring minds busy. I have 50+ science books published, but the one Bible activity book is a real treasure for me. It is a fun Christian Activity book with the ideas that I used in Summer Bible Schools.
Reading, going to the movies, and working at church had a great influence on my life. But it was my natural curiosity that led me to acting out the plots and discovering for myself about the scientific wonders around me. My first real scientific investigation involved the movies and the results of my investigation disclosed that movies were make believe. This was a discouraging yet eye-opening revelation and it had to do with my first real hero- Tarzan. I loved to swim so I was most envious of Tarzan in that he could swim any time he wanted to. He also was able to swing through the jungle on grape vines. It occurred to me one day that there were grape vines on the trees near my house. I was amazed that I’d not thought about this before. I could have been swinging through the trees all along. I didn’t waste any time pulling a vine away from a tree and even though I had no particular knowledge of the effects of gravity, I was smart enough to cautiously apply my weight to make sure the vine would support me. Yes, the vine selected would do. So I backed off and then ran toward the tree and grabbed the vine. I was shocked that I did not rise and swing up into the trees like Tarzan. I tried it again and again as any good scientists would do. Same results each time. My conclusion was that my experiment didn’t work because I must be doing something wrong. What I needed was more research on the proper procedure. This meant that I would have to wait until Saturday when I could return to the theater and see another Tarzan movie.
Saturday finally came and I was back at the movies. I was probably the most attentive child in the movie theater that day and the most anxious to leave when the movie was finished. I intensely studied the vines in the movie, how Tarzan ran, where the vines were when he grabbed them and how they moved. It looked like the vines were hanging straight down and went up when Tarzan grabbed them. UUM! Seems that was the way I did it. But, I went home with a renewed faith that if I ran faster it would work. But alas, I failed again. I did give lots of thought to the problem before determining the Tarzan movie was a fake. Little did I know that I was doing my first physics investigations and had used all the steps of the inquiry approach without
anyone making me memorize the steps. This was real hands-on science.
I gave up the idea of swinging through the trees but didn’t give up on inquiring and solving problems. I was kicking rocks around the driveway one hot summer day and out of the blue it occurred to me that a pond was nothing more than a hole in the ground with water in it. So, why couldn’t I dig my own pond? Tarzan wouldn’t be the only one that could swim whenever he wanted to. I would have my own pond. The work involved in digging a pond was not an issue, I felt that I could dig a little every day until the hole was as big as I wanted it to be. I was so excited about my idea that once again I failed to discuss the project with my parents. It never occurred to me that my parents might not want a big hole in their yard. But the pond digging idea never got that far. I’d only removed a small bit of dirt when I hit my toe with the shovel. Yes! I was barefooted and the sharp edge of the shovel caused a painful wound. I immediately lost interest in digging a pond, but just the realization that a pond could be dug if I wanted to dig it made me feel that no project was out of reach.
Imagination was a big part of my childhood. Each day was a new adventure. Well, each day of weekends, holidays or time after school that is. I attended public schools and don’t recall having much fun in elementary school except during recess. Upper grade experiences were not much more exciting for me. In the first grade, my memories are of wishing I hadn’t forgotten to do my homework. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to learn, it just seemed that my mind was going in so many different directions that I just forgot the school stuff. I was so disappointed with myself for forgetting. But how could I have been concentrating on school work the day a man led a small pony into our yard. Yipie Yi Yay!! I was so excited. Second only to swimming, I loved
riding horses. The only ones I’d ever ridden had been at a carnival and they were hitched to a pole and went around and around in a circle. Now I had the opportunity to actually sit on a horse that wasn’t attached to a pole. Surely my mother would not deprive me of this experience. All she had to do was let the man take my picture. Ok, she had to also buy the picture. I really begged and it worked. The man had cowgirl stuff for me to wear. Was this going to be fun or what! While sitting on the horse the bright idea of kicking the horse so that he would walk came to me. As the man prepared his camera, I used my foot on the side of the horse opposite the man to kick the horse just a little bit. After a couple of taps the horse took a few steps forward. YEA!! I was riding all by myself. The man was so mad at the horse that I felt a bit guilty for getting the animal in trouble, but I would have done it again if I could have gotten away with it.
My wheeler-dealer dad finally became the owner of two Shetland ponies. He called to tell me he had a horse for me. Had this man lost his mind? I was married with three kids and lived in the suburbs of Houston. My backyard was almost big enough for a dog and three kids–A HORSE!! Even a Shetland pony was out of the question. I told my husband that my dad had a present for me and asked him to guess what it was. I was shocked when he said, “Probably a horse.” No dad had not informed him of the surprised. Instead, Wade said he had picked the most illogical thing, which was a toss up between a horse and an elephant. He randomly picked the horse as his guess.
I graciously gave my pony to my brother, who now was the proud owner of two Shetland ponies that were mean and tried to bite anyone who got near them. The ponies were not part of the family very long, probably dad sold them. Yea, he actually never released his ownership of things and he just might take it back at any moment and sell it. We loved him in spite of his “slightly” crooked business deals.
Second grade happened but I have few memories except the one time that I talked without permission and had to stand in the corner with my arms raised over my head. In my mind I was there for hours, but it had to have been only a short but agonizing time. Wish I’d had understood more about gravity then and I might have pointed out to the teacher that my hands and arms were changing colors. Who am I kidding. No one would have dared talked back to that teacher.
I now realize that my hands and arms became pale because the blood in vessels near the skin had drained down. You can try this with one arm held up and the other down for a few minutes, then compare their color. But I don’t think this teacher would have been interested in my scientific observations.
On second thought, I do remember a couple other things about the second grade. Guess my brain cells got jarred a bit thinking about the blood running out of my hands and arms. Once it rained for days and even though the playground was wet, we were allowed to go out for recess. The teacher warned the class that if we got wet, we would have to wear some of her clothes that she had brought just for such emergencies. You can bet that I did not get wet, even though I so desired to splash in the mud puddles with the boys. Some even fell into the muddy pools. I expected them to be killed when they returned to class, and they most likely wished that had been their punishment. Instead, the boys had to stand behind the partition where we hung our coats. Each of them had to take off all of their wet clothes, dry, and put on one of the teacher’s dresses. Of course the dresses were too long, but it didn’t matter, those boys had no intention of walking around. In fact, I remember them burying their heads on their desk as the teacher hung their wet clothes near the stove to dry. Of course she did not display their underwear. I assume the clothes dried before school ended. Or maybe the boys went home in the teacher’s dress. Were they scarred for life? If so, it wasn’t from wearing the teacher’s dress but their punishment for disobeying the teacher when they got home.
The third grade also holds one of my nightmare experiences. All the kids were lined up to receive a shot. At this time, the county health department gave free vaccinations for various diseases at school. There were long lines of kids and one by one each child was taken by a nurse “BEHIND THE WHITE SCREEN.” We had no idea what? or who? was behind the screen. What we did know is that each child that disappeared behind the screen started screaming and when they reappeared they were crying and holding their arms. At first the line I was in stood against the hall wall as it slowly inched its way toward the “DOOR.” Once I reached the open door, the white screen was visible.
As I approached the screen my heart beat faster and faster. I had no plan of action but was so terrified that when my name was called to be the next victim, I bolted and ran as fast as I could. The nurse and teachers tried to stop me but I was too determined to escape. I got away and hid on the floor between the seats of my school bus. I have no clue about what happened at school after that because I stayed crouched between the bus seats until the kids started entering the bus to go home. I doubt that I was hidden for long and surely my teacher knew where I was. She most likely called my mom to get permission to let me remain in my hiding place because it was near the end of school. I was thrilled when that bus cranked up and started moving. I’d successfully saved myself. Mom had not entered my mind but when I got home and she gave me “THE LOOK.” Yikes!!! But could what ever she would do to me be worse than the horrors that were unimaginable behind the curtain? I tried to explain to my mom how I felt, but she was not interested. She was more concerned with where the money was to come from to pay the doctor for the shot. Guess she was a bit angry that I had run away from the free shot and now she would have to pay for it. So, we were off to the doctor’s office. But I was a much wiser person now and watched for my chance to again make my break. When the doctor and my mom were talking, I very quietly slid off the examining table. I didn’t know where I would run to but I had ever intention of getting away before being stabbed by the needle the doctor was holding. I had my hand on the door knob when my mom grabbed me. It did take several to hold me and I made every effort to bring help with my screams, but alas no one came to my rescue and I was given the dreaded shot. Leaving the room a lady in the waiting room asked if I was the one doing all the screaming. I stuck my tongue out at her. My disobedient behavior at school, in the doctor’s office and now being disrespectful to the lady was really crossing over the line. While I knew my mother was not happy and would most likely punish me for my behavior, I just couldn’t seem to help myself. But then maybe mom took pity on me because I don’t remember being punished. Or maybe my special grandmother was around. She would have listened to my side of the story and understood that I was just frightened. Now there was no excuse for sticking my toungue out at the lady but my grandmother would have forgiven this act and explained it away as well.
Surprisingly after the infamous “school shot” experience, I became more interested in showing just how brave
I was and never again blinked at being given shots. My interest in science increased and as a teen I once opted for a local antisetic so I could sit and watch the doctor operate on my wrist to remove a cyst. I’d still prefer to do that if the operation was necessary. I certainly don’t like pain, but if I have to be cut on, I’d like to ask questions to make sure the doc is paying attention to what he or she is doing. Besides, I find that kind of stuff
interesting, and even more so if it is someone else’s body that is being cut on.
The third grade holds a few good and bad memories. I did miss a great deal of good due to having bad tonsils. This wasn’t the bad part. It was difficult to try to catch up on all the work that I had missed while being sick. But when I returned I was sure that school was going to be wonderful from then on. The teacher sent home a note requesting money to purchase a coloring book. Could it really be true? A real coloring book in school? It was just too wonderful anticipating actually coloring in a real color book at school. When the books were passed out, I never thought much about the fact that each child had the same coloring book. My thoughts were that school was finally going to be fun. I was a bit disturbed when the teacher asked us all to turn to the same page,
but the reality of the situation finally struck home when she instructed us to pick up a red crayon and color the balloon. School wasn’t fun after all. Bummer!! We may have colored in that book after that day but I have no memory of it. It wasn’t fun and I no longer cared about the coloring book. But I learned a lot from the coloring book experience, one thing being to appreciate the creativity of a child. While I can’t say that I was always
understanding when my own children and grandchildren made creative messes, I made an effort to understand. It was difficult when two of my grandchilren at ages 5 and 6 colored themselves as well as the paneling on a wall with colored markers. But what could I say, I had purchased the markers for them and covered a table with white paper so they could draw lots of pictures. A phone call took me away from them for what seemed only a few minutes but it was long enough for them to tire of the paper. They seemed to have favored the grape smelling purple ink and painted their faces first and then drew on the paneling. Scrubbing their faces only partly removed the color but had little affect on the paneling. The color wore off their faces but not the paneling. I did instruct the children that walls were not creative canvases and in the future I’d be happy to provide paper. This was said for my own piece of mind, after all I was speaking to two kids that were rather proud of their creative work. This art work was on display for several years until the room was remodeled. It
did serve as a reminder to me that young children cannot be left alone with markers, even for a few minutes.
The remainder of my own education had miscellaneous events, but I just didn’t have a great deal of interest in going to school. While my parents were interested in my getting an education, they were never involved in school functions and neither was I. But they both had unusual childhoods, something paralleling the story of “Grapes of Wrath.” So, what did they know of being involved in school functions. I can say that they were both intelligent enough to overcome there lack of formal education and through the years had many successful businesses. My dad was involved with driving and/or a truck related business most of his life. He had the ability to earn money but was not as skilled at saving it. In retrospect, we lived a rags to riches life but as a child I was never particularly aware of the hard times. Unlike dad, mom could stretch every dime and we never did without. That is not to say that we wore fashion clothes or lived in a wealthy part of town, but neither did any of
the kids at my school. It was a country school and we were all from the same socioeconomic status–slightly poor. Actually, I considered my family wealthier than others in our neighborhood. This is because having a nice car was first on my dad’s list of necessities. If our car wasn’t new it was at least very big and shiny. We were the only family within many blocks that had brick on their house. Actually only the lower part of the front of our house was bricked. I was so proud when that brick was put on our house. But it wasn’t a pride that made me feel a cut above others, it was a pride for my dad. As a child, I really did think he was the greatest, and I still do. How wonderful of him to make our home pretty. Now mom may or may not have been as excited about the
brick. She was a bit more concerned about paying the bills next month. Dad had more of a “bird in hand” philosophy and he’d worry about tomorrow when it came. He was a wheeler dealer and often got himself in unusual situations. Once he bought a whole truck load of peaches but his buyer backed out on the deal. To keep from losing all of his investment, the peaches had to be sold and sold quickly before they went bad. His idea was that I would sell the peaches while he continued to work. So he set me up a peach stand on the corner of a busy street and I sold peaches. At 12 years of age, I was not that interested in selling peaches on a corner but whatever dad said was what I did. Not because he was strict and would punish me but because from the time I could remember, I would walk fast just to keep in step with him. I really thought he was wonderful. I didn’t get paid for selling the peaches. So, the peach selling business began to tarnish dad’s halo. Later, there was a
used car lot. I washed the cars, did secretarial work, sold cars, etc. I was only 14 but managed to get special permission to receive a drivers license. I drove the cars and had money for gas and entertainment, but again I did not receive a payment for the work that I did. He never paid me for any job that I ever did for him even though he had me working jobs instead of hiring someone else. I am very careful about this and try to be careful to be fair about paying what I owe. Guess my dad just didn’t think he should have to pay his own kid. Who am I kidding, my dad didn’t think he should have to pay anyone. Instead, he wanted to give a person money when they needed it.
I may not have received a salary for my work, but dad was very generous with me. I just wanted the money to be what I earned and not always a gift. But it never happened. While I didn’t win on this issue I was a winner in the fact that dad certainly taught me how to sell stuff. I inherited my overachiever, workaholic personality from my dad. But thankfully I also received a conservative “Let’s save for tomorrow.” attitude from my mom.
Mom was never comfortable with dad’s rags to riches life style. So when I was 14, she enrolled in cosmetology school. I have no clue as to why she picked this profession. Maybe because the time of training was short, but up until this time she never expressed a desire to be a beautician, which was the term for the profession at that time. I couldn’t wait for her to graduate. She promised that she would bleach my hair when she graduated. I eventually was a platinum blond as well as a red head, raven black, etc. It was fun. Mom soon opened her own beauty salon and had the personality to work with the public.
Unlike dad’s business adventures, she was able to manage her business and made a lasting success of it. With both parents working, I had a bit more freedom than was good for me and stayed home from school at every opportunity. It is interesting that I disliked school so much at that time but spent 27 years teaching. I facetiously have said that I had to make up for all the days that I was absent. But, the one thing I tried to do as a teacher was to make my classes fun. Fun is not to be equated with “There’s nothing educational going on in this class.” Rather, fun science just means there’s lot of hands-on stuff going on in the class. My boredom at school can be summed up as total being uninvolved. This was my own fault. I could have been part of the band or athletic programs. I chose not to.
While I blame no one but my self for my lack of participation at school, I did have an interesting event in the 7th grade in reference to joining the band. I had actually considered being in the band. I wanted to play the saxophone. Maybe this was to be the start of my “saxophone period.” One day in English class the teacher in her usual stern voice announced that if anyone was interested in being in the band they should go to the band room. I was a very timid child at this time and quietly rose and left the room. After closing the door I realized that I did not know where the band room was. So, I opened the door and stuck my head in and asked her for
directions. She was in a rage and screamed at me to get back into the room and to sit down. I was most confused and frightened. I later discovered that her comment had been “tongue in cheek.” Seemed that some kid was tapping his pencil on a desk and she was being sarcastic with her comment about going to the band room. Let’s you know how out of it I was at school. I may have been watching a butterfly out the window and never heard the pencil tapping, but came back to the real world when I heard the comment about the band. I can still experience the excitement I felt about the possibility of being in the band as well as the humiliation I felt when I returned to the room for directions. I certainly never asked about the band again. But cannot blame
this teacher for this. After all, she is the same teacher that assigned the class to write a poem and then told me that my poem was stupid. I had really labored over that poem and finally came up with a few lines that all rhymed. Something like “The sky is blue and you are too.” Oh well, maybe I won’t win a prize for poetry, but calling my poem stupid was a bit harsh. No! I did not tell my mother because I knew she would come to the school and talk with my teacher. My fear was that when she left I would be alone with the teacher.
By the time I reached the 8th grade I had no doubts that I wanted out of school as soon as possible. That is not to say that I disliked learning, I just disliked school. My feeling intensified each year and by the 10th grade I asked my dad to please let me drop out of school and go to cosmetology school and work with my mom. While my dad was generally very lenient with me he was firm about this. Since neither he nor my mom had finished high school, in fact dad had a 6th grade education, he was determined that his children would graduate. He informed me that I would finish school and if I had other thoughts he would personally escort me to school. Yikes!!! Was this the same man that gave me money to go to the movies when I just got fed up with school
and stayed home? Of course mom thought I was slaving away in my classes. Guess dad’s thoughts were that missing school now and then was not so bad as long as I could keep my grades up and I did. His adamant response about my dropping out certainly was a surprise but I got the message loud and clear.
Ok, so I had to graduate but that didn’t mean that I had to go for 12 years. Nor did it mean I had to go to school every day. During the summer after I finished the 10th grade, I took summer classes. With these credits, I was able to enter the 12 grade when school
started. I skipped the 11th grade and graduated a year early.
In age I was always younger than the kids in my class. Because of my January birthday, mom started me in kindergarten when I was 4. So, I started the first grade when I was 5. That made me 15 when I started my senior year and 16 when I graduated in May. My plans were to get that high school diploma and with it secure a good job, get an apartment, a new car, etc. First of all, no one wanted to hire a 16 year old for any job except making and selling hamburgers. Second, unmarried girls couldn’t easily get an apartment at this time. So now what? College? Um! More boring school? But, maybe not. It would be different. So, I enrolled in college. Surprise, surprise. I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of it. Can’t say my grades were all A’s after all I had missed a lot of instruction during high school years and even though I made relatively good grades, I was not as educated as I should have or could have been. What a waste of time. If I do nothing else in my life, I hope to encourage young people to get involved in school events and find the fun that there is there for them. Life is as boring as one makes it.
My college grades were B’s and C’s, which for a kid that had basically skipped high school, that was great. I truly adapted to the college environment and wanted to live in the dorms. I attended the University of Houston, which was across town from my home. But I wanted to be a real college student and live in the dorms. My dad \
fussed about this idea but finally gave in. He drove me to the dorms and discovered how very strict the rules for girls living in dorms were. He was not allowed in the dorm. The only man ever in the building was someone from maintenance and he had to announce his presence loud and clear. Actually the rules for the girls dorms at that time were much stricter than those set by my parents. I liked it because there were choices that I made on my own. One decision was not a healthy choice. I chose to skimp on food and save my food allowance to purchase shoes. I did lose weight but gained 30 + pairs of very beautiful shoes. My dad was shocked when he moved me home for the summer. I never returned to the dorms because I married during that summer. My marriage was to Wade Russell VanCleave, a very handsome young man that I had been dating for 2 years. Wade had recently returned home from Marine bootcamp and planned to work and fulfill the remainder of his military obligation in the Marine Reserves. My intentions were to continue college, but my mother became ill and I dropped out of the fall semister. My mom recovered from her illness and I and returned to school in the spring of 1960. The only problem was that I returned to school pregnant. I had classic morning sickness and it was difficult to attend classes. I often sipped on a coke during a class and threw it up afterwards. I perservered and made it through the semister, passing all my classes with good grades. My first child was born August 6, 1960. She was a beautiful red headed girl and my mother named her Rajene Diane. When we brought this bright bundle of joy home from the hospital, my mom looked at her and decided that
her name didn’t fit. So she called her Ginger and she is called Ginger to this day.
With a baby to take care of and the expense of college and a baby sitter, I did not return to college in the fall. During the next 2 1/2 years, I had two more children, Russell Eugene and David Wade. While I loved my family, I began to feel that my brain needed a bit more stimulation. So, when David, the youngest was 2 years old, I returned to college taking night classes. Wade worked at the post office as a postal carrier and kept the children for me at night. I had entered college with a desire to be a medical laboratory technician, but changed my major to education when I returned as a wife and mother. It was my thought that as a homemaker, teaching would allow me to pursue my desire to study science and have quality time with my family. It was a good choice and I taught for 27 years.
My husband was a good provider, but my teaching salary allowed us to have a few extras, such as a modest fishing cabin for weekend retreats. Can’t say that the post office paid him a large salary, but we lived within our means. He has always managed our finances and that has also been with my blessing. I don’t care to know how much the telephone or electric bill is.I just want to know how much money I have to play with.
Teaching school was a sweet and sour job. Sweet in the excitement of knowing that I offered kids the key to a treasure of wonderful knowledge. Sour in the fact that students are not always as obedient and respectful as they should be and then there was all that paper work and parents that only had an interest in their child making an A. Yikes!!
Who would spend 27 years in that kind of a stressful job? When I got fed up at times, I would simply move to another school. It was like starting all over. I always entered the new school with the idea that I was at Mayberry High and all would be absolutely wonderful. The first year at any job is usually the honeymoon period and I loved it. The second year I was ready to pack up and go. Actually, I think it may have been
me more than the schools. I just had wandering fever and a family with ties that kept me from moving tooooo far. But then my husband had back surgery and retired. It didn’t take me long to figure out that we were free to leave. Our first move was back to his hometown of Marlin, Texas. Of course I had to have a job for the move, but as a science teacher jobs were plentiful. The only problem was that the school wanted me to teach physics. I was not certified to teach physics, so I check out one of the last colleges that I’d taken graduate work at and was told that I had the qualifications but needed more hours in their college. It has always been fun for me to know that I took 6 hours of elementary education so that I could receive a certificate to teach high school physics. I liked Marlin High School. It was there that I sponsored several clubs, one was in charge of the homecoming parade. You haven’t experienced stress until you direct a parade. There is so much involved, one being the placement of the horses and who is to follow them. (Picture # Me in my costume for the homecoming parade. I needed something to represent the science club and what better than a costume with sequined
celestial bodies.)
In Marlin, we lived on a small farm and it for a city gal it was exciting. Two and one half acres is very small, but coming from the suburbs of Houston, it looked very large. It was a bit stressful for Wade since he was not able
to do the work that he had in the past and was home alone. But he learned what he could and couldn’t do. Russell and David had animals for class projects. They both earned money hauling hay during the summer and Ginger tried to drive us crazy wanting to go back to Houston. But two years of farm life was enough for all of us. We literally got out a map and searched for places we might like to move to. We selected Lufkin, Texas because of the great fishing lakes there. I got a job and away we went. But this was to be a very short visit. I wasn’t as happy with the school as I thought I would be, so Ginger got her wish and we returned to Houston. I taught for 2 years in Houston, and then we were off again. My mom died before we left Houston and I had even fewer ties to hold me. My dad was as much of a wander as I and I knew that I’d see him periodically no matter where I moved. So, we decided to stretch our boundaries and maybe go out of state. Since Wade was retired, he could
search for just the right place. I packed his suitcase and he set off to find us a home. In a few days he called from Arkansas and said he had found a beautiful piece of land. He put a deposit on it and returned home. Later we
returned together and purchased the land. It took a year for me to find a job. Russell was only 18 but had decided to marry and did. So, our family had increased by one and we all took off for Arkansas. We had cars and U-haul trucks. What a sight we were. Since we only had land, we had to rent several small houses nearby to stay in so that we could be close enough to the land to do our building. I drew the house plans in a spiral notebook and Wade was the contractor. Our sons were the main laborers but I did my share of hauling boards and was one of the main roofers. This was no small task since it was a 2 story house. A neighbor that was mentally challenged joined our working team. We paid him for his service as well as invited him to join us for meals. He had no local family and was happy to be part of ours. He did present one problem and that is the fact that he rarely bathed or washed his clothes. He was a bit aromatic so I encouraged him to bathe and even provided
soap and washed his clothes. It wasn’t so much that I was being nice as it is was survival.
Building the Arkansas house was hard work but it certainly had its fun times. We started the project in the summer of 1980 with temperatures reaching 110 degrees at times. We had fans in the bedrooms but the only air conditioning was in the small living room where we had the television. The prized sleeping accomodation was on a matress in the back of our pickup. I had never before or since seen so many shooting stars. It was so spectacular to watch these natual fire works. Guests that came to visit were treated to a night in the pickup under the stars. They didn’t have to washed their faces in the morning because it was usually covered with dew. Kissed with dew sounds more poetic. See, that 7th grade teacher didn’t know what she was talking about. I am poetic.
It was while teaching chemistry and physics in Ft. Smith, Arkansas that a local community college offered me the opportunity to design a science enrichment class for elementary kids. I wrote the following description for the class and it was printed in a paper catalog that was mailed out to the surrounding ommunnity:
The Magic of Science
“The excitement of science is all around us. In this course, students, entering grades 3, 4, 5, & 6 in the fall, will have the opporutity to increase their knowlege of science by having fun. Learn why popcorn explodes; how to boil water with ice; and how to silver plate a penny. The science aspect of everyday life will be brought out through student experiments and teacher demonstrations.”
The class was held for 90 minutes each week for 6 weeks. The kids had a great time and my friends told me I was crazy to teach all day and entertain kids after school. Maybe. But, a few weeks after the class ended I received a letter from a New York book publisher. She had seen the catalog and the description of my class. It seems she was looking for writers for a special science series. Was I interested in writing? Actually, I wasn’t sure at first because I thought she might be from one of the companies that wants you to pay to have your work published. No, I would not be interested in that. But as it turned out she truly did represent a very reputable company, Prentice-Hall, Inc., so the answer was a definite YES!!! OOPS! Now what? I had never written a book and didn’t have a clue about where to start. In fact, I had to be mailed instructions on how to write a prospectus so I could send one in for evaluation. My ideas were accepted and I received a contract to write my first book. There were several problems, one was that I didn’t really know how to write a book. I thought I was to write it and have the art in place and then it would be printed. OOPS! Art? I have limited drawing skills. Had I gotten myself involved in another project without counting the costs? I asked the publisher sooooooo many questions that she finally mailed me a book on how to write a book and arranged to have the art work done, at
my expense of course. But the advance I was offered to write the book and the art fee were all to come out of future royalties. Ok, I was ready now. The book was published in 1985 and I received my copy while living in Germany.
Getting to Germany took a few steps.\par
\par
We left our home in Arkansas in June of 1984 and returned to Houston because \par
all of children and our 2 year old granddaughter had returned there. All of a \par
sudden I lost my desire to be in Arkansas. Our stay in Houston was only 1 \par
year and during this time Wade’s father died. So we decided to move back to \par
Marlin and live in his dad’s place. Prior to making this decision, I had \par
interviewed with the Department of Defense Dependent Schools hoping for a \par
position to teach on a U.S. military base in Europe. It sounded like an \par
exciting time and my idea was that my children would be able to come for \par
short holidays in Europe. Maybe Wade and I would move from one base to the \par
next all over the world. Sounded like fun to me. Soon after getting unpacked \par
in our farm house in Marlin, the offer to teach on a military base in Germany \par
came. Yes, we went but I didn’t do well so far from my family. It was one \par
thing to move to another state but in Germany I couldn’t visit my family on \par
weekends. It was even hard for me to make phone calls with the time \par
difference and I didn’t speak German. So, we made plans to leave at the end \par
of the school year. During that year we did a great deal of traveling in \par
Europe until finally Wade said he was not visiting one more castle. As \par
previously stated, I did receive a copy of my first published book in the \par
fall of 1985. It was a most exciting event. I had dreams of grandeur. Wade \par
and had a great time dreaming about how my writing career would change our \par
lives. We decided that even if the book provided a modest income, if I could \par
write enough books then I could retire from teaching and stay home and write. \par
Sounded like fun. So, I started reseaching for a second book. The first one \par
was titled “Teaching the Fun of Physics.” The second could be about \par
chemistry. I had what I thought were all the writing skills that I needed to \par
put together a second book so during my one year as a teacher in Germany, I \par
researched in my spare time for information for my second book. During some \par
of the many bus tours that we took through Europe during that year, I \par
scribbled out ideas for experiments on writing pads.\par
\par
We returned to our farm in Marlin in the summer of 1986. After getting \par
settled, I put together a prospectus for the chemistry book and sent it off \par
to Prentice-Hall. Was I surprised to receive such a negative response. Mary \par
Kennan, the editor of my first book had left the company and the new editor \par
saw no value in my work. My thoughts were that the first book had been a \par
fluke, so I put the chemistry material away thinking my writing career was \par
over and that I’d use the chemistry material it in my classroom. But alas, my \par
fairy Godmother was soon to reappear and provide me the opportunity to write \par
again. I received a form letter from Mary, announcing that she was now at \par
Dodd Mead Publishing and if I had any book ideas to let her know. I sent her \par
the chemistry material and soon received a contract. The format of the book \par
was changed some from the one at Prentice-Hall, but it was basically the same \par
style- mine. \par
\par
My writing career just might happen after all. But it certainly was not going \par
to be financed by the royalty payments from the first book. It took almost 7 \par
years for that book to get out of the red. But, no matter. I was teaching and \par
writing the chemistry book in my spare time. It was near the stage of being \par
printed when I received the letter telling me that Dodd Mead was in chapter \par
11. Rats! This on and off writing career didn’t seem like much fun any more. \par
But, Mary came through again and managed to get another publisher to pick up \par
the chemistry book. Little did I know that this publisher didn’t have a \par
children’s section and that it was all an experiment. But it was an \par
experiment that was most successful for me as well as the publishing house. \par
My new editor, David Sobel worked at John Wiley and Sons in New York. The \par
chemistry book, called “Chemistry for Every Kid” that had been given such a \par
bad review by Prentice -Hall was published by Wiley in 1989 and to date has \par
sold more than 200,000 copies. Not bad. It certainly let me know that a bad \par
review on a manuscript doesn’t mean the work is bad. I have shared this with \par
many new authors. \par
\par
During the first six months on the market, “Chemistry for Every Kid” sold \par
enough to pay off the advance that I had been given, the artist’s fees as \par
well as a little extra for me. WOW!! The book was in the black.The first book \par
was still in the red. Just for fun, I took a picture of me in front of an old \par
rundown farm house that was used to store hay. This picture was sent to David \par
with a note thanking him for the royalty check and that with it we were now \par
able to purchase a “fixer-upper” house. David never responded. In fact, \par
during the time I worked with David I sent him lots of goofy pictures and \par
notes and he never responded. But I later discovered he shared the fun with \par
others. \par
\par
Even before the sales report on the chemistry book came in, David offered me \par
a contract for a second book. This one would be about Biology. After the \par
report, he later told me that there had been a staff meeting and the thought \par
was that just maybe the VanCleave books would be very successful. I was \par
invited to come to New York and meet with some of the Wiley staff. Even \par
though I had been to Europe, that was all very protected travel. I was always \par
with a government group. So, I was a bit apprehensive about the trip and had \par
to confess to David that it terrified me just to think about being in New \par
York. He had to promise to meet me at the airport and that I would not be \par
unescorted at anytime during my stay in New York. David met me at the airport \par
in a car. I never gave it much thought. Texans travel everywhere in cars, so \par
why would I think that David had gone to a great deal of trouble to escort me \par
in a car. Discovering this made the trip and David even more special. \par
Besides, there was something about David Sobel that reminded me of my own \par
David. I’m a preener, meaning that when my children are within arm reach, I \par
straighten their hair or straighten their clothes. The very first time I met \par
David Sobel within a few minutes I was dusting off his suit and was \par
immediately embarassed and apologized for my behavior. My only excuse was \par
that he so reminded me of my son that I just automatically switched into my \par
mom mode. He just laughed. David is still special. \par
\par
My first trip to New York was fun and magical. Some of the fun was the \par
response of the publicists. She was very concerned about what I was going to \par
wear on a scheduled television inview. But she had every right to be. After \par
all, David had been sharing my fun pictures and notes and I had sent another \par
about preparing for the New York trip. Our kitchen was being remodeled and \par
while the window was torn out, I sat in the opening with a cup of coffee in \par
my hand. I was wearing a long housecoat and big fluffy houseshoes. Wade took \par
the picture. The accompaning the picture indicated that I was wondering which \par
pair of overalls I should wear to New York, the one with or without lace. \par
\par
A special friend and clothes designer, Sue Dunham, insisted that I have a \par
Texas look for the New York trip. So, she created the most fantastic skirt \par
and coat made of denim. Wade said I looked liked a buffalo hunter in it, but \par
what does he know about fashion? I wore this costume along with fashion boot \par
(didn’t have any cowboy boots) to the first meeting. I felt very confident \par
that I looked great. But the publicist immediately asked if she could see the \par
clothes I had brought for the television interview. Guess she felt she still \par
had time to take me shopping. She was happy that I had a black dress with \par
pearls. I wore this bland outfit but it wasn’t the real me. I’d have been \par
more comfortable in my buffalo hunting gear. I’ve since adopted a style \par
created by Sue Dunham, which are denim vests with large pockets and science \par
designs. Some of the vest depict a topic from one of my books, such “Oceans \par
for Every Kid.” \par
\par
Sue and I along with another friend, Sella Cathey, took a trip to Hawaii. \par
There we visited a Wyland art gallery. Sue studied the art and designed a new \par
vest for me. It is blue with a painted scene of breaching whales. The fun \par
part is that she lost her pattern and made the vest to fit her. Well, Sue is \par
at least 5 inches taller than me, so my fingers only reached the top of the \par
pockets on the vest. She made an adjustment but the pockets were still too \par
low. I did not let her change this. I use the vest to demonstrate inertia, if \par
I am quick enough, I can get my hands in the pockets before the vest moves. \par
Wearing this vest is like wearing a piece of art. I’ve been stopped on the \par
street by admirers. Wish I had had that vest during my New York trip. \par
\par
The trip to New York resulted in contracts for four books. The plan was to \par
add to the Science for Every Kid series, and we did. The books continued to \par
be successful and I no longer had to pay for the art. This was helpful, but \par
not enough for me to give up my day job–teaching. Before I finished the \par
contracts I was invited back to New York to discuss a new series. Soon after \par
this David left the company. It was a sad day for me, but before he left Kate \par
Bradford entered the scene and was David’s assistant. She and I had worked on \par
several books together. David left, but he left me in great hands. Kate has \par
been absolutely wonderful. \par
\par
Later, Wiley offered a multibook contract for 10 books, which I accepted. \par
This contract did not specify that any specific book would be written, so \par
Kate and I had lots of freedom. Basically, we talked about science topics and \par
she checked the market to determine how well the book might be accepted. \par
Sometimes ideas came from others in the publishing house.One of the \par
vice-presidents asked if I could write a geography book. That was a laughable \par
request for me because I am part of the group that the news media describes \par
as the ignorant Americans that have no clue where geographical locations are. \par
I’d be hard pressed to put a puzzle of the US states together. But, I rarely \par
turn down a challenge and accepted this one. It was a shock to me to discover \par
that geography is much more than map skills. It is bascially the location of \par
different science events. What a fun time I had writing that book and did I \par
ever learn a lot. In fact, the best part of writing is that I learn so much \par
with every book that I write.\par
\par
There were other multi-book contracts offered by Wiley and I’ve accepted them \par
all. To date, I have 45 Wiley books in print and several in various stages of \par
production. Sales hit a remarkable 2 million in the year 2000. Some of the \par
books have been translated into foreign languages. There are a total of 14 \par
different foreign languages. I am still having fun writing and still have \par
books to write on the current Wiley contract. \par
\par
Most of the information in the earlier books came from years of research \par
while teaching as well as any current publications on the topics. In the past \par
few years I’ve included travel in my research, and one of the most exotic \par
places that I’ve visited was the geographical south pole. I actually stood at \par
the south pole and there there is an actual metal pole stuck in the ice to \par
mark the spot. I walked around the pole, crossing every longitude line. So, \par
I can officially say that I have walked around the Earth. I traveled with \par
Randy Landsberg, the Education Coordinator from CARA (The Center for \par
Astrophysical Research in Antarctica) at the University of Chicago. Educators \par
were invited to be part of the adventure while it was happening by keeping up \par
with the project via an active web site. I sent information about the \par
experiment that we performed via email from different locations during our \par
journey including the south pole, which has science facilities as well as \par
living accomodations for about 195 people. \par
\par
The south pole trip was sponsored by the National Science Foundation with the \par
objective to encourage student interest in science and Antarctica, one of the \par
last frontiers on Earth. The research done in Antarctic is the foundation for \par
my book called “203 Icy, Freezing, Frosty, Cool & Wile Experiments.” It was \par
an awesome experience and the journals of my travels are still on line. A \par
link to this informtion can be found on my web site: \par
http://JaniceVanCleave.com\par
(Picture # Janice standing at the geographic South Pole)\par
\par
Having gone to one end of the Earth, I had a burning desire to go to the \par
opposite end, but to date have only made it as far as Barrow, Alaska. But it \par
was here that I touched the Arctic Ocean and researched the Arctic Tundra. \par
\par
Traveling to and from Barrow was as exciting as being there. I was \par
accompanied to Barrow by Laura Roberts, an elementary teacher from \par
Louisville, Kentucy and an associate who field tests many of my books. Laura \par
and I traveled in the direction of Barrow by cruising the Alaska coast. Each \par
port provided exciting opportunities for adventure, including helicopter \par
rides to ice fields for dog sled rides, researching the tops of glaciers as \par
well as studying the movement of whales. On returning from Barrow we stop off \par
at Denali State Park and studied many animals in the wild, including moose, eagles \par
and grisley bear. \par
(Picture # Janice touching the icy shore of the Arctic Ocean along the beach \par
of Barrow, Alaska.)\par
\par
Other travels include various trips to the Hawaii Islands, but traveling \par
hasn’t been the only exciting adventure. In April of 2000, I flew with \par
students from different Texas colleges in NASA’s plane, the K-135, which is \par
often called the vomit comet. This plane is used to train astronauts to \par
perform at zero gravity. The effect of zero gravity is achieved by a \par
parabolic flight path, which is an arched path. During the 25 seconds it \par
takes the plane to make one parabola, zero g to 2 g (twice Earth’s gravity) \par
is experienced by those in the plane. Twenty five seconds seems a short time, \par
but it can be a very long time if you have twisting camera cords around your \par
neck. Note that I said twisting cord because when the motion of the plane \par
achieved an effect of zero gravity, the plane dropped down and anything not \par
secured to the craft remained afloat. I was holding to straps on the floor, \par
so I went down with the plane, but the cameras hung by cords around my neck \par
stayed in midair. I must have tapped the floating cameras because they \par
started rotating and thus twisting the cords which were around my neck. We \par
had been instructed to try to keep our heads still and eyes focused on one \par
spot the first couple of parobolas to help with the nausea problem created by \par
the change of forces of the body. But when one is being strangled nausea is \par
not a top priority. The flight crew saved me from being strangled but \par
couldn’t help my nausea. I vomited during 26 of the 32 parobolas the plane \par
made, but did not let that stop me from experimenting. I dropped stuff with \par
one hand and held the barf bag over my mouth with the other. Even though I \par
spent the flight personally researching the negative effects that a decrease \par
or an increase of gravity has on the human body, it was an awesome experience \par
and I’d do it again. \par
\par
My travels also include presenting programs at schools for kids and/or \par
teachers as well at conventions. I greatly enjoy working with kids and have \par
lots of fun presenting teacher workshops. Conventions allow me to meet so \par
many different librarians, teachers, and people in different professions. As \par
one of the authors invited to the Texas Book Festival in 1998, I was invited \par
to join the other authors at the Texas governor’s mansion for breakfast. \par
Laura Bush was the director of the festival and she and her husband, governor \par
George W. Bush, were hosting the breakfast. It was an very elegant affair and \par
I had the pleasure not only to meet governor Bush but to actually have a \par
conversation with him about education in Texas. Little did I know that in only 2 short \par
years the man that I was conversing with would become the president of the \par
United States. At the same breakfast, the previous president George Bush, Sr. \par
was also present and I was able to briefly meet him. In November of 2000, I \par
was the speaker at a Texas teacher’s conference where president George Bush, \par
Sr. made a cameo appearance. I managed to meet him again and gave him an \par
autographed copy of one of my books. Meeting a president once is rare, but \par
twice is phenonimal. \par
(Picture # Me with President George Bush, Sr.) \par
(Picture # Me with President George Bush, Jr.)\par
\par
Meeting two United States presidents is rather rare but to add to this list \par
of dignitaries are two noble prize winners, which was as great an honor. I \par
met Dr. Leon Max Lederman, American physicist and cowinner of the 1988 Nobel \par
Prize for physics at a teacher conference, where he and I presented programs. \par
Dr. Lederman was the key note speaker and I was amazed at how fun and easy \par
his explainations were. The picture shown here with the two of us was sent to \par
Dr. Lederman and his response was that his grandchildren would be so excited \par
that he had met a famous author. How gracious. I was the one that was in the \par
prescence of a celebrity. \par
\par
Dr. William D. Phillips, American physicist and cowinner of the 1997 Nobel \par
Prize for physics presented a program at Baylor University, which I attended. \par
Afterwards I asked if he would pose for a picture and commented that I was \par
collecting pictures with nobel prize winners and this was my second picture. \par
He asked who was the first and I told him Leon Lederman. “Oh! Leon.” he said \par
and went on to tell a story of the Judds, the singing stars and how Namoi \par
Judd had written “Big Bang Boogie” just for Leon. \par
(Picture # Me and Leon) ( Picture # Me and William)\par
Sandwiched between my traveling schedule I squeeze in time to write more fun \par
science books for kids. My office is now a building a few yards from my home, \par
but that is not to say that the two are not often overflowing with some new \par
idea that I am working on. My husband is retired and is in and out of my \par
office during the day, but I spend most of each day by myself. Our home is in \par
a rural area. While we are on a main highway, there are no close houses, only \par
fields of land. I have acres of land and three ponds and my \par
neighbor’s land which have provided research materials for different books. \par
The buffalo in the picture belonged to a neighbor. I must admit that I had \par
not properly researched the behavior of this animal before setting up my \par
typewriter inside the fence. Thankfully the animal was only curious about my \par
presence and not violent as I later discovered that they could be. I’ll certainly do \par
more research before I get up close and personal while studying another \par
animal.\par
(Picture # Me with the buffalo)\par
As to entertainment, I prefer to stay home when I am not professionally traveling. In the spring my fields are covered with wild flowers. A fun past time this last spring was to ride in the trailer being pulled behind the tractor driven by my husband. Now it wasn’t the bumpy trailer ride that I found fun, but at the end of the ride we collected wild blackberries and ate them. These berries grow wild in our pasture land. This trip was made each evening near dust for a week or so. Once I had my fill of berries, I could sit on the trailer and watch the water in the pond change colors as the Sun set. I greatly enjoyed this experience, but reflecting on it as I write this autobiography is even more enjoyable. Writing is a wonderful experience and I think everyone should experience its pleasures, even if there is no plan for publcation. In fact, I encourage everyone to write their autobiography and update it periodically. It gives one the opportunity to reflect on the past and to consider the factors that went into their becoming the person they are.
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1. Onions in hay in bathtub
2. 2 foot—4 foot level–after I sawed off part of it
3. Wade–holding live turkeys in back of the pickup–as I drove through town.