The Social Hour at Trinity Terrace: a history

          From humble beginnings, the Social Hour has grown into one of the best-attended, most-anticipated weekly events at Trinity Terrace.

      It began in 2008, and it was Martha Taylor's idea. Also credit Bill Starz for the start. (That's a tease; read below for the details).

      Whether the setting is Thursday-at-4 p.m. in the Longhorn Auditorium or the occasional evening venture outside on the terrace area, there are programs that draw up to 200 or so residents.

Trinity Terrace's ukulele players and singers

      Guests attend, too, especially when the "world-famous Trinity Terrace Ukulele Philharmonic Orchestra, Chorus, Marching Society and Drill Team" -- that's director Ken Knight's tongue-in-cheek description -- is featured (four times a year). 

      The uke group, which has grown from a dozen to some 40-plus residents, has been in existence since January 2010 and from its start a part of Social Hour. And it now usually draws a more-than-capacity crowd. So much so that two concerts -- Wednesday and Thursday -- are a new schedule feature.      

      Another great attraction: Resident Services director Behka Hartmann's program of songs ... be it jazz, classic or popular tunes and -- as in 2022 -- Christmas favorites. 

      Her annual program in late May, outside on a nice evening, has been tied to a meal for residents, sponsored and served in the past two years by home-care companies. 

      Since its very beginning, musical programs have been the core of the Social Hour schedule, and the main focus of those doing the scheduling.

      Bill Starz was the first Social Hour committee chairman, and the longest-serving: six years (2008-13). He was followed by Charles Kelley for a year (2014), Rev. Bill Gould for three years (2015-17), Ken Knight for two (2018-19) and currently Nico Van Thyn for four years (2020-23).

    There were two pandemic-forced interruptions -- four days short of one year, March 2020 to April 1, 2021, and then another eight weeks (last week of 2021, first seven of 2022).

     Lonely times at Trinity Terrace, right?

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     Many programs feature speakers -- book authors, newspaper people, Fort Worth notables, residents sharing their travel adventures, medical experts, etc.

     Some have attracted full-house audiences, such as then-mayor Betsy Price and most recently Tarrant County Sheriff Bill Waybourn. Most memorably, in 2017, there was then-new resident Dr. Bobby Brown -- New York Yankees star-turned-Fort Worth cardiologist who went overtime sharing his wealth of humorous stories. 

      Back to music: There are a dozen "regulars" audiences appreciate -- such as resident classical pianist Patrick Stanford; songs by Lisa Garrett, the aforementioned Ken Knight, Nancy and Gregg Froman, and Bob McClendon;  piano-and-trumpet by Debbie and Ken Cockerham; piano duos (Nancy and Bruce Muskrat, Doris Gameiro and Jose Cubela), piano entertainer Buddy Bray, piano/music historian Beverly Howard (a resident), the "Warmin'  Up team (Morgan Sullivan and Jim Duff), TCU students (with vocals and wind instruments), the Camp Meeting Boys group (with yodeler Devin Dawson); and the always reliable Texas Winds Outreach programs.

      Give a huge assist for at least 10 programs in 2023 to the Trinity Terrace Foundation, which provided $2,500 to pay for music and speakers. That meant -- in many people's opinion -- a boost in program quality.

      It gave the Social Hour a budget, an unprecedented development. Previously, when payment was requested, funds were drawn -- occasionally -- from the Resident Services department.

Paschal High School's mariachi group, 2022

      Resident Services also has tied several events to the Social Hour -- Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo (which in the past two years has featured high school mariachi groups from Paschal and Northside), Octoberfest, Halloween, Christmas, New Year's Eve. Next year, too: Christmas in July.

     Another goal in scheduling is to have residents do the program. They have done at least a dozen almost every year; in some of the early Social Hour years as many as 20.

     And Trinity Terrace staffers have been the performers, too. Once upon a time, the omnipresent Alex Smith -- now the events setup coordinator, but younger then -- sang Al Green tunes ("I wowed them ... I was good," he said, laughing at the recall.) 

      A decade ago, it was Bobby Davis (director of facility services) playing guitar alongside his teacher, our house painter Arjan Golemi (the Greek native). (Bobby since has switched to drums, and plays for his church worship group.)  

      And coming in November, five staffers -- Dining Services workers Kristian Thomas, Jaelon Wingham and Emily Gonzalez, weekend security guard Jacob Montgomery, and package-deliver specialist Emmanual Ogunyomi -- will perform a program of "scenes" and music.

      For a third year in a row, there will be a "Resident Roundtable" -- four residents covering their life stories -- on November 9.

A cooking demonstration: Dr. Loanne
 Chiu and chef Leon  Rivera III, 2022

    One more "in-house" program in the planning: Remember a year ago the cooking demonstration by resident Dr. Loanne Chiu and chef Leon Rivera III (with cookies by Diane Kessler). On the prospective 2024 schedule, February 1: a "cakes-cookies-pies" program featuring Elm Fork pastry chef Carol McFarland, with short segments by residents JoAnn Johnson, Jim Barker, Pat Adams and Diane Kessler (again). Plus, treats for the audience.

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      About those humble beginnings, and Martha Taylor. She is now the matriarch of Trinity Terrace. In 2008, she was a spy, energetic 90-year-old with a plan: a weekly gathering of residents for music and -- yes -- drinks, a social gathering.

Martha Taylor

     She took her idea to Bill Starz, who agreed to be the first chairman. And he could play harmonica, which he often did in the first few years of Social Hour.

      Their first meeting drew about eight people and was held in a room that no longer exists -- near the Elm Fork dining room on the Terrace Tower's main floor (the expanded library and mail area are there now).

     Word got around and the weekly attendance grew, and soon it was time to move to the bigger Worth Lounge.

     The name went from Happy Hour to Sundowners -- neither acceptable -- and then Social Hour was a fit.

      More music, more drinks, more people, and Bill Starz went to then-executive director Lee Patterson to ask if the Longhorn Auditorium could be used for Social Hour.

     The answer was yes, and Social Hour had a permanent home. 

     Martha Taylor taught herself to play piano, and she was the Social Hour program on several occasions. And much appreciated.

       "Someone would call sick at the last minute, or unable to come for another reason," recalled Bill Gould of his time as chairman, "and Martha would say, 'I can do the program.'

    "She could tear it up," Bill added. "She played ragtime. Couldn't read music, but she could play by feel, and people loved it. ... She would get after it."

     Also, he said, "She is one of the sweetest, most enjoyable, pleasant people to be with. ... She would play piano in her apartment with the door open, and her neighbors loved it."

      Another hero was resident Judy Norman, who was on the Social Hour committee and, said Bill, "saved my bacon a couple of times" by creating programs -- poetry reading, play acting, the "Goofy Geezers" comedy (?) troupe. She remains a help with program suggestions.

      Originally, the Social Hour plan was to have a program for some 25-30 minutes, then let people visit (drink) ... socialize. Bill Gould, as scheduler, found it increasingly difficult to bring in musical guests and limit them to a half hour. So gradually -- and continuing with Ken Knight as chairman -- the programs grew to 40-45 minutes (or more).

     Ken, who had begun visiting for Social Hour before he and Richard Morehead moved in as residents in August 2017, felt that not having a budget for Social Hour was a "major concern," and scheduling was "a constant, ongoing stressor." 

     But in one of his two years in charge, Ken lined up 40 musical programs (in 51 weeks). His first guest: classical guitarist Dr. Will Douglas, a program regular.

     "I got lots of tremendous feedback [from residents]," Ken said. "People thought I was walking on water. We were fortunate to have some good musical talent come in."

      With his leadership, the ukulele/vocal group has grown to the enthusiastic 40-plus.

      Currently, suggestions for programs are always welcomed, and usually followed up. With the help of Resident Services and the Trinity Terrace Foundation, programming will continue to be impressive.

     Humble beginnings to a weekly attraction. Who knows, we might get another Alex Smith sing-along or a Thai cooking demonstration by Sithichart Phatanapirom (our "Bob"). 

     Come to Social Hour, and check it out.

On this date 77 years ago ...

     On October 14, 1946, Rozette Lopes Dias -- then with the last name Lazer -- married Louis Van Thyn in war-weary Amsterdam.

    We are still grateful 77 years later.

The wedding photo: 1946

    Who knew on that day -- a Monday and a trip to City Hall for the wedding ceremony -- how long their lives would go, and how far they would travel.

     They'd known each other for little more than a year. And they had been through so much in the previous half-dozen years, some horrific experiences -- certainly not of their choosing.

     They each had lost so much, and they had precious little family remaining.

     So, who knows how deep their love was then. But they knew they needed each other.

      Their stories -- their combined story -- has a beautiful ending, of course: Almost 62 years of marriage, the last 51-plus in two homes they owned.

       And such good fortune: Two children they never expected -- me and my younger sister Elsa --  and from that, five grandchildren. From there, to the present-day nine great-grandchildren (but only a couple born while Louis and Rose still lived).

       Plus, a journey of almost 5,000 miles and two weeks from the wonderful place where they grew up (Hup Holland!) to the country  where Mom always dreamed of living, the result of how well American military personnel treated her and other women Holocaust survivors upon rescue in early 1945.

      And what culture shock -- from a busy center of a million people to a state and city of which they'd never heard (Louisiana? Shreveport?).

    They could not have known, did not know, how accepting, how helpful, those people in Shreveport would be. First, the Jewish community, but soon far beyond that, from all over. 

      It was a perfect fit, certainly moreso than it could have been in, say, the New York City melting pot of millions.           

      In 1 1/2 years, they were home owners. In five years, they became U.S. citizens ... and darned proud of it.

      Parts of their hearts, though, was with the few family members and many friends they left behind in The Netherlands. And also with the friends -- and eventually some family -- in Israel, the Jewish-dominated state created in 1948.

       That included the very couple that had introduced them to each other in the summer of 1945. Those two people were the only married couple housed -- in an attic room -- at the former factory converted into a safe shelter for women Holocaust survivors who had returned to Amsterdam.

     The man knew Dad from boyhood days in Amsterdam. The woman was Mom's best friend at Auschwitz; they had been in elementary school together and had reunited while standing in line after they got out of the cattle-car transport to the concentration camp.

     After they survived the Holocaust, that couple moved to Israel, specifically to Narahija.

      Which brings us to today, to this past week and Hamas' invasion of Israel. 

       Because -- as I've been asked repeatedly this week -- we do have distant connections in Israel.

      That couple's granddaughter is now on active duty with the Israel military.

      A grandson and granddaughter of Mom's favorite first cousin (Maurits) in Amsterdam, and the granddaughter's husband (a tank driver) are reservists called to active duty. 

      Maurits' son married an Israeli girl; they live in Jerusalem. And Maurits' daughter, who lives in Antwerp, Belgium, has four children living in Israel, but -- because they are Belgian citizens -- none are in the service. 

     (Maurits' children are our second cousins, once removed. At least, that's the best we can figure.)

---  

      Can tell you this: Grateful that Mom and Dad are not around to endure this latest invasion of Israel. They would have been extremely concerned.

      Because that's how they were in 1967 (the "Six-Day War" and 1973 (the Yom Kippur War) when Arab military forces invaded Israel.

       Television news then wasn't 24-7 -- Shreveport had only three TV stations and three networks -- but Mom watched (and worried) every report. Dad was working at the pipeyard, but I know he and the people there were paying attention.

       I think about this now because we've had the news on constantly here. 

      Thought about writing about baseball -- how much I've watched this Texas Rangers' season -- or football (LSU, Louisiana Tech and the Dallas Cowboys are always topics of interest in this apartment). 

      Wanted to say how good the Rangers have been and how good it feels for their fans. Same for the Houston Astros and their Yankees-like dynasty of the past seven years.

       But writing about athletics just didn't seem right this week. (Maybe if a certain team had recaptured its glory of so many decades I might be more involved, but that hasn't happened in 14 seasons. So there.)

        No, there is sadness here for all those deaths and injured in Israel, in Gaza. Not only the Jewish people, but the thousands of innocent Palestinians. They, too, are victims of Hamas, and Israel's penchant -- determination -- for revenge.

       No winners in this. None. No end in sight.

       Sad.

       And when I heard on TV someone say that "people died just because they were Jewish," I thought, yes, that's how it was for our grandparents, uncles and aunts, Mom and Dad's first spouses, plus their many uncles, aunts and cousins.

      Even through many good times, Mom and Dad never forgot. Nor do we ever forget, and we shouldn't.

      We want Israel to survive and thrive. But we, too, want the Palestinians to have peace and good times.

      We are for peace, period.

      I know those two people who took those wedding vows -- who committed to each other -- on October 14, 1946, would approve of that.

      They were blessed, and so were we. We wish the same for millions of others.          

          

A hectic first night at the Star-Telegram

    When No. 3-ranked Texas and No. 12-ranked Oklahoma -- both 5-0 and on their Big 12 farewell tour -- meet Saturday afternoon at the Cotton Bowl, it will remind me of ... 2001.

     Similar scenario, another monumental Red River Rivalry football game.

    But what I remember about 2001's meeting is not the game; it's the night before. Friday, October 5, 2001.

     My first night working at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. One of the most memorable -- and most important -- work shifts in a five-decade career.

    It would change lives, Beatrice and me and our kids. 

    As happened far too often, I needed a job. And here was a prospective one.

    Had been in contact with the Star-Telegram sports editor, Celeste Williams, and had an advantage -- a recommendation from a friend with a Shreveport newspaper connection.

    So when Celeste invited me for a "tryout" or "audition," I made the trip from Knoxville, Tennessee -- where we'd been for six years -- through Shreveport (to see my parents) and into a city where the West begins, but where I'd rarely been.

     (Had two other job chances then, in Marshall, Texas -- only 40 miles from Shreveport and the aging Rose and Louis -- and in Orlando, Florida. But neither felt like a fit.)

      It was an unsettling time for us; let's sum it up with "personal problems." But what great fortune the trip to Fort Worth was.

       And what an unforgettable night at the Star-Telegram. I'd never seen anything like it. It was a helluva challenge.

       Worked my tail off that night (we all did); met a whole bunch of strangers, some of whom would become very good friends. Found a staff so talented and so deep (numbers-wise). 

      Had the privilege of working for a sports editor who was wise and organized and loyal, and would become a person we so loved and admired (and lost far too soon). Made our home in an area where I'd always wanted to be, and at one of the most-established newspapers in this part of the country.    

      Had interviewed with the Dallas Morning News sports department in early 1982, and had a brief dalliance with Star-Telegram sports in summer of 1995. Neither was the right time, right place.

      But this time -- early October 2001 -- was my chance. Boom!

---

      The country was in a mess, the September 11 attacks still on everyone's mind. Travel by airplane was still uncertain, so I made the long drive (11 hours to Shreveport).

The tornado-wrecked Tower

     Fort Worth had a visible scar, too -- the many shattered windows of The Tower, the 35-story building a long foul ball away from the Star-Telegram office in downtown. It had been struck by the F3 tornado a year and a half earlier; the talk was that it was going to be demolished (it wasn't). 

     My connection to the S-T was Lois Norder, a managing editor (in charge of terrorism-related coverage) and also editor of the paper's Northeast edition. In the mid-1980s, we had been at the Shreveport Journal; she was a star reporter/writer, and so was her husband, Steve. It was a wonderful time at the Journal.

      So, a Friday night in Fort Worth, and I quickly was amazed at the personnel in the sports department. More than 30 people -- four assistant sports editors, three copy "chiefs" (final proofers, approve or rewrite headlines), a Sunday-section editor, three high-school editors, nine copy editors (like me), eight page designers, three "agate" scoreboard editors ... and later a dozen parttimers to take high school call-in statistics and game details.

     (Came to learn that we had 85 fulltime people in sports, and about 40 "stringers" or parttimers. Not making this up. The Star-Telegram, in the early 2000s,  was what I called "fat" in personnel. And, yes, we were among the best sports sections in the country. The awards received in those years proved that.)

     What an operation it was, especially that night.  (Turned out, there were many nights like this.)

     What made it extra challenging was this: A Barry Bonds "special" section that was pending.

     Bonds, with 70 home runs, needed one to break  Mark McGwire's single-season record (set in 1998).  The San Francisco Giants were playing on the West Coast, and would not start until 9 p.m. our time.

    A four-page section was planned, if it happened.  

    But also there was a 16-page regular sports section, and an eight-page high school section (with three separate "zone" editions). I'd never experienced that kind of volume.

    So when I got the "duty roster," with copy-editor assignments, it was just a bit daunting. 

    Plus, a bunch of strangers around me, and yet another strange computer system to battle.

    Vince Langford was one of the sports copy desk assignment gurus, and a great help. He would become one of my best friends there (and a super talent, with words and sports knowledge). 

     He was sitting closeby, guiding me through stories.  I work quickly, so he kept giving me stories. I hadn't worked in a couple of months, so I was eager, and it was exciting.

       We were waiting on the Bonds saga, but meanwhile, here is the scope of what that night was like, how many stories we worked ...

Sports front page -- Oct. 6, 2001

      -- The Texas-OU advance pages, several stories, a position-by-position breakdown. It was the first Longhorns-Sooners game with both teams ranked in the top five in 17 years (OU was No. 3; UT No. 5); the Sooners were the defending national champion and had a 17-game winning streak, but had squeezed past Kansas State 38-37 the week before.

     -- College football advance stories ... Wendell Barnhouse's whole page of stories (he was covering Florida-at-LSU that Saturday, features (one on Tennessee wide receiver Kelley Washington, who had caught 11 passes for 256 yards against LSU the previous Saturday, a game the kids and I attended in Knoxville; Vols won 26-18. But LSU got even that December in the SEC Championship Game).

    -- It was a Texas Motor Speedway weekend -- a NASCAR Craftsman Trucks race that night, an Indy Racing League 300 on Saturday.

    -- The Dallas Stars played their first-ever regular-season game at the $46 million American Airlines Center, a 4-1 victory against Nashville. So a Jim Reeves column and several stories on the game.

     -- The Texas Rangers were playing a late game at Seattle; the Mariners had beaten them 16-1 on Thursday night (coverage in the Saturday paper). Alex Rodriguez hit his 52nd home run for the only Rangers run; Rafael Palmeiro had two of their four hits. Seattle had a spectacular 114-45 record; the Rangers were only 42 games behind them in the standings.)

   -- The Dallas Cowboys, with Dave Campo as head coach, were 0-3 and getting ready to play at Oakland, and rookie QB Quincy Carter was about to make his first start. (They lost 28-21 that Sunday.)

    -- The Dallas Mavericks were in training camp, with a young owner (Mark Cuban), an innovative head coach (Don Nelson), and three star players (Michael Finley, and two young superstars-in-the-making, Steve Nash and a 7-foot German guy who had a great shooting touch, Dirk Nowitzki.

    -- There was quarter-horse racing at Lone Star Park.

    All these elements had one or multiple stories.

     And then there was high school football. I knew what Friday nights were like in the fall, but this was a mad scramble -- game after game story to work, first-come basis.

    So, about 40 games covered, with 20 full stories to work. I remember editing a Brownwood vs. Stephenville story, not knowing how huge a rivalry that was. 

   All this, and -- while high school games are coming in -- we're watching Bonds' at-bats in San Francisco. 

     Luckily, in the first inning, he hit No. 71 off Chan Ho Park. So, the Bonds special section was in play. More work for everyone. And while we started editing that copy, Bonds hit No. 72 -- again off Park -- in the third inning. More work.

     One memory: The deadline for pages to go to print was midnight. As I recall, we finished up closer to 1 a.m. We were a bit overloaded.

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     I sat across from a veteran sports department guy named Don Bowman. Didn't take long to realize he was funny, outrageous, knew his sports, was an extreme University of Maryland/Oakland A's/Washington baseball fan, and was talented. We lost him far too soon, too, and too suddenly.

     As it happened, the desk where I was working was Jeff Wilson's. He was helping with auto-racing coverage that night. He would become a friend, and his talent has him now covering the Texas Rangers and TCU. And one of the S-T's top sports columnists was Gil LeBreton, an old friend from LSU and New Orleans.

     One guy not working that night came in with his kid in a stroller to see his wife (who also worked at the paper). I knew his face, couldn't remember his name. Asked, and -- aha! (Andy Clay) -- I had worked with him in Jacksonville, Florida, about a decade earlier.

      And one funny moment: One of the sports copy editors came up to introduce himself: Jerry Barnes. "Nice to meet you," I said. "Oh, we've met before," Jerry said, smiling. "I was sitting next to you at the [Centenary College] Gold Dome the night you threw the basketball at an official (who was a friend of his)."

      Oops. Yes, in 1979, Barnes was an assistant sports information director at University of North Texas; I was the SID at Centenary. UNT's players that night were beating the hell out of our 6-11 center, Cherokee Rhone. I didn't like it. When the ball came bouncing over the media table right to me, I (not) gently directed back at an official with a (not) soft remark. I was excused from the table. (I have written a blog on that.)

    "Please don't tell anybody," I asked Barnes that night. I think he's tattled on me a few times since. We're still laughing about it.

---

    So, I ended up working some 14 to 16 stories that night ... and made an impression.

    Michele Machado, one of our page designers, laughingly recalled that when the shift was finished, she told people in the department, "That guy will never be back."

    But I knew that I wanted to work at the Star-Telegram, and told Bea that when I got back to Knoxville.

     When the shift ended, I drove to Carrollton where our son Jason was living (he had graduated from LSU and found a job in Dallas -- with travel to Tarrant County -- a few years earlier). Got up the next morning and drove to Shreveport, picked up Dad and we went to the San Jose State-at-Louisiana Tech football game that night, a one-sided Tech victory.

     Meanwhile, OU beat Texas 14-3 at the Cotton Bowl, with the memorable "Superman" tackle by OU safety Roy Williams that resulted in linebacker Teddy Lehman's 2-yard pass interception return near the end of the game clinching the victory for the Sooners.

    In a few days, Celeste called and offered me a position as a "contract" worker, not fulltime. But the pay was good, and we quickly decided to make the move from Knoxville to Fort Worth. 

     That meant leaving our Rachel behind in Knoxville, where she was a junior at the University of Tennessee. It meant being closer to the Van Thyns in Shreveport and even closer to Jason.

      No insurance coverage came with the job, but Celeste promised that the first copy-editor opening she had would be mine. Two weeks later, a copy editor left and I went fulltime, with insurance benefits. Good thing because only a few months later Bea was diagnosed with colon cancer. That insurance was a saver.

      What followed was Bea surviving two surgeries in four years, and a beautiful life still. For me, a decade at the Star-Telegram and a fulfilling end to a career. 

      Lots of good luck involved, and a first night at the S-T to remember.