I was going through some old home video footage looking for a specific clip to post on my blog when a scene from Christmas 1993 came up on the screen. There was my Grandma and Grandpa Kinnaman at my old house and all of us were together as a family. 

The TV went blank for a second and then it flickered to life again with Christmas at my Grandma and GrandDad Hicks’ house with everyone there including my Great Aunt Rose and Great Uncle Gib. Not to mention that I can hear my Grandma in the background being her normal self, which is something I haven’t seen too much of in the past ten years.

Watching these clips brought back other memories that had been hiding in the recesses of my mind. Then it hit me, things aren’t what they used to be or what I imagined life would be like at this point, and I just began to weep. I missed hearing my Grandpa’s voice. I missed my Great Uncle Gib and Aunt Rose (read more about her). I miss having the whole family together for Christmas and having Grandma there (and altogether mentally).

Watching this video from 1993, I remember what my "normal" life was. Yet as the years have gone by, things have changed and I’ve adjusted as best as I can. Now I have a "new normal." Sometimes it’s hard to look into the past and see what was and no longer is. Yet at the same time, while some things have passed, new and greater things have begun.

I’ve realized it’s okay to cherish the past, to remember the good times, and learn from the bad. I learned that I’m living in the here-and-now, not the past, not the future. God has placed me where I’m at for a reason and He’s brought me through an awful lot and for that, I am grateful.

So even though I’m living in a new normal, I have many things to be thankful for:

• For my relationship with Jesus Christ
• For both my parents
• For the time I still have with my Grandma and GrandDad Hicks and Grandma Kinnaman
• For my brothers, their children, and significant others
• For my aunts and uncles.
• For so many wonderful friends who love me so well
• For my job, the people I work with, and the people I get to worship and pray with at church.
• For my college and wrapping up my bachelor’s degree

I guess sometimes it takes a little time to be thankful to realize what you’ve really got.

Halloween has always been a favorite time of year for me. I have fond memories of going trick-or-treating, bringing home the loot to my mom, and putting the candy in Halloween-themed tins. In the nineties, my brother and his friend Nathaniel created a haunted house in Nathaniel’s basement. I don’t remember too much about it, but I know that I looked forward to going every year because they did a great job and didn’t try to scare me too much.

In the later years, Micah and Dad would decorate our big front porch for Halloween. Even I would get in the spirit by volunteering at The Children’s Museum Guild’s Haunted House. I hope to write a couple more posts about my love of Halloween, but for now, here’s a short video showing Nathaniel and Micah’s haunted house. The video quality isn’t super great because of the haunted house being dark and the video being shot using VHS, but I still hope you get a feel for what the haunted house was like. Enjoy!

I have been on a journey lately, which probably explains my absence from blogging over this past week. Yes friends, I have been digging into my family’s past to find out where I’m from and as it turns out, my roots are right here in Indiana.

How I Got Interested

I have to give a good amount of credit to my friend and co-worker Dana who has been busy researching her own family. As she talked about all the research she was doing, it reminded me of how much time my Grandma Hicks spent doing the same thing: writing to possible relatives, going to cemeteries, searching through birth and marriage indexes.

So why did I get interested? The simple truth is that I was interested in who my family truly was. Living on the north side of Marion County and now living in Hamilton County, I’ve heard people ask, "are you related to that Kinnaman?" Up until now, I haven’t really been able to give much of an answer. Yet after doing some research, I’m beginning to see that it’s a really good possibility that I am indeed related to many of the Kinnamans living in Hamilton County.

What I’ve Found

My first task has been to find out about more about my namesake, the Kinnaman family. So I went to ancestry.com, signed-up for the free trial and went digging through records. It’s amazing how many records are being digitized! I was able to see census records from 1890, 1900, 1910, 1920, and 1930. And my great-grandfather Kinnaman? I found his draft registration card from World War II… with his signature and everything!

Long story short? I’ve found out that my 4th Great Grandfather was John C Kinnaman and that he settled in Fall Creek Township (not far from Hamilton Southeastern High School) in 1832. I also found and visited Kinnaman Cemetery near IN-238 and Florida Avenue where many of my ancestors are buried.

As I looked through books on the history of Hamilton County, I was able to find a map of Fall Creek Township and was able to see the land that my ancestors owned… pretty cool!

Where to go from here…

Now that I’ve gotten through the discovery stage of my research, I’m starting to go more in-depth in cleaning up my family tree: verifying dates, documenting my findings, and all that good stuff.

To me, genealogy is a discovery into the DNA of who we really are. I think sometimes we get so caught up in living our lives for today that we fail to realize how far our families have come.

Since I actually enjoy research and being thorough, I’m hoping that the fruits of all this labor will give my nieces and nephew (and hopefully my own children) a view into who they are and give them something to be proud of. And hopefully, someone will continue to add on to my research, so that 100 years from now or more, one of my descendants can have the same discoveries I have.

"People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors." – Edmund Burke

My Grandma Hicks has been in the nursing home for a while now… at least five years, if not more. At first it was a little difficult to get used to, but we all knew it was for the best. My GrandDad still lives at home and goes to the nursing home almost every day and spends hours with Grandma.

I went to see them yesterday and even though my visit yesterday was short, I still had a good time. My Grandma was in good spirits and her memory was doing pretty good.

It may not mean much to most, but just hearing her say my name meant a lot to me. My mom usually asks, "does she remember who you are?" To be quite honest, it doesn’t bother me if she can’t make the connection that she’s talking to is me. Just being able to have a conversation, no matter how big or small, is more than enough.

Grandma’s time in the nursing home has also been good for me to see just how much my GrandDad loves her and takes care of her. I’d love to share with you just one small story.

Taming the Old Lady With Chocolate

My Grandma is what you would call ornery, or in laymen’s terms, "bull-headed." The nursing staff has realized this and learned that she can be bribed with chocolate. She wants chocolate and knows the only cure for her stubbornness is chocolate.

Well anyway, yesterday Grandma wanted chocolate. GrandDad was giving her a playfully hard time, "Janey, you’ve already had three pieces!"

"But I’m hungry!" she’d respond. I don’t know if my GrandDad wanted to give in or maybe he wanted entertainment, "I’ll tell you what Jane, you whistle and I’ll give you some chocolate."

Maybe you have to know my Grandma to get a laugh out of this, but I’ve never seen her give in so easily to one of my GrandDad’s demands (it’s part of being bull-headed, I guess). But sure enough, she was lying in bed and just started whistling. "Okay John, I can’t whistle anymore, give me chocolate!"

After fiddling with the wrapper, GrandDad handed her a piece of sugar free chocolate. Who knew women could be so easily bribed? Ha ha!

So there you have it, just one of my many interactions with Grandma. While life in the nursing home isn’t the same as it is in the "outside world," I always treasure these special little interactions I get to have with her.

In the course of almost two hours on September 11, 2001, America witnessed the worst domestic attack in its history. I remember that day pretty vividly. I had awoken from a nightmare to see television coverage of a gaping hole in Tower One of the World Trade Center. Before I had a chance to realize what was going on, a plane struck Tower Two.

It happened all so quickly, yet strangely, time felt like it was standing still… as if we were living in a nightmare. The news stations couldn’t keep up; as soon as they’d cover one story, another one would unfold. The timeline of events shows what happened that day:

• 8:46 AM: American Airlines Flight 11 crashes into the World Trade Center north tower between the 93rd and 99th floors.
• 9:03 AM: United Airlines Flight 175 crashes into the World Trade Center south tower between the 77th and 85th floors.
• 9:37 AM: American Airlines Flight 77 crashes into The Pentagon.
• 9:59 AM: South Tower of World Trade Center collapses.
• 10:03 AM: United Airlines Flight 93 crashes into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
• 10:28 AM: North Tower of World Trade Center collapses.

It was absolute chaos and in an unprecedented move, all air traffic was grounded. Over 6,500 planes were forced to land with the only aircraft being allowed to fly being Air Force One and military jets.

I remember going into work later that afternoon and having a TV in the back office so that we could hear news of the rescue effort. Having worked at a supermarket long enough, I was good at making small talk and asking about the day’s news while I rung up people’s orders. Yet on that day, I didn’t have to say anything. We all knew what had happened and we were all still in shock. I remember going home that night and watching President Bush give an address from the Oval Office. It had been a long, nightmarish day and we needed our President to reassure us that the Union was still strong.

Many stories came out of that day, like that of NYFD Chaplain Mychal Judge. Upon hearing the news that the World Trade Center had been hit, Judge rushed down to the site to be of assistance. As he was in the North Tower of WTC administering last rites and praying, he was hit in the head with debris from the South Tower as it collapsed. In his final moments, Judge could be heard praying out loud, "Jesus, please end this right now! God please end this!"

Another story came from the family of Todd Beamer. Beamer was on a flight over the hills of Pennsylvania when many on the flight received news that the World Trade Center had been hit. Their plane had also been taken over by hijackers and Beamer had been on the phone with an operator from GTE letting her know of the situation. As the passengers decided to overtake their attackers, the operator could hear Beamer say, "Are you guys ready? Let’s roll." Shortly after that was heard, United Airlines flight 93 crashed in a field in Shanksville, PA. It’s intended target? The nation’s capital, Washington D.C.

On that day and the days following, I saw the best come out in my fellow Americans. Blood drives were held to collect blood for the many anticipated victims. Millions of dollars were being raised to support the victims’ families. Terrorism task forces, fire departments, and police departments from all over the country traveled to New York to help the NYPD and NYFD carry the burden.

That day showed me that even though we have our differences, we have the ability to put our differences aside and look out for our fellow man. I was driving downtown yesterday when I saw a work van with a flag painted on the door and below the flag it said, "Never Forget." I will never forget that day in September when thousands of lives were taken in an act of hatred. I will never forget the sacrifice of the NYPD, NYFD, and our armed forces who continue to keep us safe. I will never forget.

It seems like The Children’s Museum of Indianapolis has always been a part of my life. I can still remember a van from The Children’s Museum pulling up to my house on Rosewood Lane to drop off materials for my Mom to work on for the Teacher’s Resource Link. I can also remember when my brother Kreig used to volunteer in MAP (Museum Apprentice Program) and I subsequently ended up volunteering and working at the museum for almost ten years. That place is home to me… and perhaps I’ll write more about those memories later.

Today I want to focus on the CineDome. Some of you may remember it because it was one of the biggest construction campaigns the museum had worked on since the 1980s. In 1995, they broke ground for the CineDome which was a large domed theater (think of a mix between a planetarium and an IMAX). In 1996 they completed the CineDome, constructed Festival Park just outside the CineDome/Welcome Center, and also opened ScienceWorks in the old science exhibition area on the fifth floor.

Before each show at the CineDome, they’d show a seven-minute clip called "Imagine Indiana." Even though I worked at The Children’s Museum, I didn’t go to very many shows at the CineDome. But when I came across this video on YouTube, I totally remembered it. It gives the viewer just a glimpse into what Indiana is all about. The quality isn’t the best, as I got this video from a second-hand source, but I really hope you enjoy it. For those of you who haven’t been around The Children’s Museum lately, the CineDome was replaced many years ago by a new exhibit called DinoSphere.

Do you remember the CineDome? What was one of your favorite movies to see there?

Sometimes in our lives we need to be reminded of where we’ve been so that we can hopefully be able to rejoice in how far we’ve come. For me, this moment came on Saturday as I spent some time photographing St. Luke Catholic Church.

For those of you who don’t know, I went to St. Luke Catholic School from fourth through seventh grade. It was a slightly difficult transition for me because I was a non-Catholic in a Catholic school. I made a great first impression during communion when Mrs. Sullivan held up the wafer and said, "the body of Christ" to which I responded, "thank you" and gladly walked off. Fortunately, Mrs. Sullivan tracked down my teacher after Mass and made sure I didn’t take communion until I’d gone through the classes and had my official first communion.

As time progressed I grew in my faith at St. Luke’s. The religious education director of the church, Mrs. Spitznogle, took the time to talk with me about first communion. When I was ready, I went to my uncle’s parish where he was the priest and had my first communion.

Over the next few years I spent countless hours at the church: children’s choir practice on Tuesday afternoons, Mass at least once a week for school, singing in the choir for Mass on Saturday’s at 5:30 p.m. Not to mention holy days, the Rosary, confession.

I tell you all of this to show you what my spiritual life consisted of at St. Luke’s. If you had asked me back then what I was, I would’ve identified myself as Catholic. If you would’ve asked me about my relationship with God, I would’ve acknowledged that I prayed to him regularly and had a great reverence and was in awe of His holiness.

To this day, I will still go to a Catholic church to pray when I really need alone time with God. There is something about the beauty, sacredness, and holiness of the Catholic church that draws me in.

As I wrapped up photographing the church on Saturday, I took some time to kneel on those all-too-familiar kneeling benches to say a prayer. Then, I just sat there and looked up at the mosaic of Jesus on the cross.

My spiritual journey started at St. Luke’s, but it didn’t end there. As I stared up at that mosaic, I thought about how thirteen years had passed since I last knelt and prayed to God at St. Luke’s. I thought about my parents’ divorce, struggling through years of anxiety disorder, my mom remarrying, two of my brothers getting married, graduating high school, finishing college, making friends, remembering friends who had passed away, the blessings that I’ve had in my life, and the darker times I’ve gone through.

As I sat and stared at that mosaic of Jesus, I wanted to weep. Because during many of those years, I fell away from Him. But I can rejoice because Jesus has brought me back into a personal relationship with Him and I have grown so much in my faith because of it. Spending some time at St. Luke’s on Saturday was definitely a blessing reminding me of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." – Deuteronomy 31:6

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." – Lamentations 3:22-23

This weekend my house said goodbye to an old friend, Spot the Turtle. Spot is preceded in death by his friends: Hyden the Dog, Doodles the Cat, Patches the Cat, Scooter the Guinea Pig and Prince the Finch.

If there’s one thing we can say about Spot, it’s that he lived life in the slow lane. He enjoyed nothing more than basking in the warm glow of the 40 watt bulb while taking a dip in his bowl of water.

Spot lived a simple life. He’d burrow under inches of litter, only to come to the surface when the smell of Velveeta Shells n’ Cheese enticed him. With a grin on his little turtle face, he’d impale the shells n’ cheese with his claws and slowly bring it up to his mouth to enjoy. If you listened closely, you could hear him chomping on his dinner.

Perhaps the most action packed time for Spot came young in his life. According to his friend and owner Ron, this is what happened:

"I can remember one time he was in one of the boys’ bedroom with the door shut .. to kinda get a little exercise .. well one of the boys ran into his room and forgot to close the door.  Well .. next thing I know .. I am looking up at the top of the stairs and there’s Spot teetering like a car that’s about ready to go over the cliff .. well before I could do anything .. down the stairs he came like a hubcap .. I should say rolling down the stairs.   .. Spot tucked in his shell .. and BOOM … he hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs .. what a ride!"

Spot’s favorite book was Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss and his favorite cartoon was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. If Spot could leave one piece of advice for the future generations, it would be to always be comfortable in your own shell.

Today was such a great day! I had been wanting to go back to The Art Institute of Chicago since my last visit in high school. In fact, one of my fondest memories of Chicago is when my advanced photography class headed up to the Art Institute to check out the Irving Penn exhibit.

Well, today I got to go back. I’m in Chicagoland for a one-day workshop, but I headed up a day early so I wouldn’t have to get up super early on Thursday morning. I parked my car at The Museum of Science and Industry, hopped on the Metra, and headed over to Michigan Avenue.

There’s something special about art museums, it’s like the ornate frames are a window into the world of the artist. Everytime I go to an art museum, I feel like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I’ll stand far away and look at it from a distance and then I’ll get up close and look closer at the details: brush strokes, use of color, the texture of the canvas.

One of my favorite things today was just floating from gallery to gallery and looking at all the artwork: paintings, furniture, decorative pieces, etc. Paintings have a way of drawing me into that world and time. When I look at a work of art, I wonder what’s going on outside of the frame that we can’t see: What sounds are going on around the subject? Are there smells? It’s funny, I know, but these are the things I think about.

As you can probably tell, I love more realism art rather than abstract. As a photographer, I photograph the world as I see it and so I appreciate painters who can do the same. Then there are those painters who can read a piece of literature and be inspired, or have a dream and can take that dream and turn it into a vision for a piece of art.

And while I don’t have an acquired appreciation for decorative pieces like tea sets and furniture, I love to imagine how those pieces were used when they were originally created. And as I look at the date on the placard next to a work of art, I just can’t imagine how many places that piece of artwork has been, how it’s been used, what’s the story behind it?

I walked out of the Art Institute feeling like I spent a couple of hours glancing into so many different time periods, looking into the imaginations of so many artists, and have a greater appreciation for the artists and their work. Yep, it was a good day.

For me, it reminds me of my summer as an intern at Grace in 2007, and little did I know that it would be a new beginning for me.

Where I was in life
When I started my internship at Grace, I was nearing a turning point in my life. I was about halfway through my degree program and had been working at Marsh for the past eight years. I had applied to be JD’s intern for the summer, mostly doing web site related stuff and had hoped to cram in some of my school internship requirements along the way. Well, I didn’t fulfill my school’s internship requirements, but I still had a great summer!

The fun of being an intern
The great thing about the internship program was the leadership of Aaron and Linda. They did a killer job making us feel welcome. One of my greatest memories from my intern summer was the retreat we went on. I had been struggling with anxiety disorder over the past eight years and up until that point had never spent the night away from my house, nor did I let anyone drive me anywhere. It’s funny looking back now and seeing how those obstacles kept me from so many things, but I can only rejoice in the fact that I no longer have anxiety in those areas.

The intern retreat was cool for numerous reasons. One, as I mentioned, I began to overcome my anxiety disorder that summer as I stayed the night with the interns and let Aaron drive us around. Ha ha! I remember going to Beth’s house and having lunch, having fun at the Indians game, staying the night in the Westin, waking up in the morning to go to Holliday Park in the early morning to spend quiet time with God. I remember going to Lynn’s house and watching a "welcome video" that the staff had put together for us. In fact, here’s a clip!

We concluded our intern retreat by going to St. Elizabeth Ann Seaton Catholic Church which has a beautiful chapel and we spent time praying over each other, it was a moving moment for me.

The rest of the summer
The rest of the summer went by fairly fast. I really loved working with JD in our little office, he had the big desk, I had the little desk.

Now that I work in JD’s old office, I miss having an office buddy. It was nice to just have random talks from time-to-time, to hear his phone play "Linus and Lucy" when his wife called, to be able to ask really random questions. He is also a big tech geek, so it was really easy for me to keep up with technology. Oh yeah, we also waited in line so that he could get one of the first iPhones when it was released… ahhh, bonding times!

I’ll never forget the times we went to McAlister’s with Serena and friends, the way he was honest with me (livin’ out loud!), and his overall cheery self. JD was a good boss and is a good friend.

Where I’m at now
Well, it’s no surprise that I’m on staff at Grace. JD had started to branch out on his own with web development and ended up taking a job at Fishhook where he is the e-strategist. Not long after my internship was over with, I applied for JD’s job. It’s been an interesting journey as I look back and realize that three years have passed and all of the changes that have happened in my life (you can read about some of that here). I wish I could write more about my summer, and perhaps I will. If you peruse through the blog you’ll find bits and pieces of what’s culminated over the past three years since I was an intern.

Looking back, I had a feeling that my life was going to change that summer, I never dreamed I would be where I’m at today or have the incredible privilege to work with the people I do. The people I work with and the people of Grace Community Church are my second family. Every weekend when I go to church, I am so thankful and blessed to be here.

And for your enjoyment… some pictures from that summer.

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