As a child growing up in Montana, I imagined my cowboy grandpa’s life to be as inspiring and majestic as the mountains around me. I was wrong. Continue reading
Category Archives: Places of My Heart
Sent to Siberia
When my employer sent me to Siberia, it wasn’t punishment at all. It was a “once-in-a-lifetime” $25,000 train ticket on the Trans-Siberian Railway, creating on-the-fly videos and stories and unforgettable memories along the way. Continue reading
The enduring beauty of Wisconsin
Born and raised in Montana, Wisconsin became my home in my teen and college years – a place of enduring beauty and seasons. Continue reading
Wisconsin, and Thanksgiving
Wisconsin Thanksgiving: Grateful to be with my mom, say thanks to my 7th-grade teacher, Mr. Armbrecht, and return to my teenaged haunts: a lighthouse, and Lake Michigan. Continue reading
Lovin’ Uzbekistan!
Five years ago this week I was exploring Silk Roads and back roads of Central Asia. Officially I was with the Seattle-Tashkent Sister City Association, an invited member of its 35th anniversary delegation. Continue reading
White-trash garlic bread
I can’t get no satisfaction. I grew up wanting more, and why not? It was my culture. Even the Rolling Stones’ Mick Jagger wailed dissatisfaction over a girl dissatisfied with him. But why? Blame it on TV… Continue reading
Turkey: Coming home (1 of 3)
I’M NOT TURKISH, I don’t speak Turkish (much), and I don’t have ties to anything Turkish in the U.S.A. Yet when the plane touches down at Istanbul’s airport – my eighth trip so far – my heart still flutters as if it’s the first time: Continue reading
Turkey: Coming home (2 of 3)
1973. MY FIRST AIRPLANE RIDE, ever, landed me as a high school exchange student to Mustafakemalpaşa, a small rural town in western Turkey, into a Muslim family headed by a doctor and midwife, two brothers, two sisters. Tradition ruled. Continue reading
Turkey: Coming home (3 of 3)
I breathe in olive-soap-laced steam, as generations of women have breathed in before me in this historic turquoise-tiled neighborhood Turkish bath, Üsküdar Çinili. It’s out-of-the-way in an Istanbul neighborhood, but it’s mine. Continue reading
The last road trip: eulogy for my father
{Note: I wrote this on the flight to his funeral, after my dad died February 18, 2012.} Arthur Holter Born: Montana. Died: Wisconsin. Forever Home: Montana. May the circle be unbroken. My dad loved road trips. He died talking about them. There it is: that corded telephone. Dad was chatting with my older sister … Continue reading
Remembering
February 18, 2012. A year, how can it be? Gone.
We, his children, dig his grave and bury him – our father. Continue reading
Changing names: Leningrad
What’s in a name? These days, it’s not Leningrad, anymore. It’s not the USSR, anymore. And my “‘Baby Lenin”‘ pin isn’t worn anymore, but rather a sought-after relic for collectors. Change in St. Petersburg is the real name of the game: mind-boggling change. Continue reading
Dog bones & relationships
Dog bones and Thanksgiving–what’s the connection? It’s the meatiness of solid relationships – not wispy, virtual ones – that are most satisfying… Continue reading
A bygone era
Soviet miltary veteran joins others in a May Day parade honoring their service… service of a bygone era… Continue reading
Stealing Easter
Growing up in Montana, Good Friday was an often snowy, three-hour noontime service, “Seven Last Words From the Cross.” We got the day off from elementary school for such religious things back then. (Yes, I lived in ancient times.) Impressionable, I’d shed a tear as our Lutheran pastor whispered those first words from the cross: “Father, forgive them…” … Continue reading
A lasting gift
My dad died suddenly a few weeks after all this happened. It turned out to be my last story for him, my last gift to him…. a lasting gift.
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