For several years I had wanted to go to California to the Nixon Library. In early November in 1996, since I was now a widower and free to go, I decided to take off.

I fired up my motor home some time in the afternoon figuring I would go as far as possible that day. It became so dark that I pulled into a rest stop at Albany, Oregon as it was too late to go looking for an RV park.

During the night my practically new house batteries died. This stopped the furnace. It quickly became extremely cold. Right at that time I developed a terrible hurry call. Since my batteries were dead I couldn't use the motor home toilet, so I hurried to the rest room. Since I was on the trucker's side, and I was in a terrible hurry anyway, it never occurred to me to look for a sign. I went into the nearest restroom. I had no more than sat down in the stall when I heard adjacent, obviously female, obviously foreign voices. I realized I was in the wrong facility. Fortunately they left and no more came in. I was able to slink out and return to the motor home. As I left I was able to recognize that there were no urinals.

Since I had bought the house batteries at Camping World in Mesa, Arizona and there was a Camping World store at Wilsonville, Oregon I returned there, assuming they could quickly get me back on the road. The service manager told me they could get to me in two weeks. I then returned to Portland to Ollinger, the factory representative for my Itasca motor home. They could get to me in a week. This convinced me that my trip was off so I returned to Longview to Dahl's Electric. They could get to me the next day.

I returned home and was about to back into my driveway. My neighbor came out and said, "You're only going to be overnight so why not just leave it out here in the street?". This was my third or fourth mistake. The next morning when I returned from golf I noticed that my motor home's rear window looked strange. There was a huge hole in it and there was no sign of a rock or missile.

My insurance company told me where to take it for replacements, I had to juggle appointments for repairing the window and replacing the batteries.

At the glass company a girl named Sue and I cleaned out the broken glass. While we cleaned, the foreman made a template of the corners and measured the window. A little over a week later I was called in to install the new window. The window didn't quite fit so the same foreman remeasured for the second glass. The window was close enough that he left it in. It was better than the visqueen that had been in.

At this point I went to Bellingham for Thanksgiving with my son and daughter-in-law. On my return I was called in for the installation. The window still didn't fit. At this point a different young man made an actual complete template of the window. Somehow, in the manufacture of the pattern, he completely destroyed the drapes that were on that window plus the two adjacent drapes. I showed the destruction to the office lady at the glass company. She had their insurance adjuster contact me.

Since I was about to leave for New York for a visit with my other son and daughter-in-law we decided to postpone any further action until after Christmas. Also, the insurance adjuster was up to his eyeballs in connection with all the damage from the weather at that time.

At this point I removed the mattress, sleeping bag, pillows and bedspread and put them in the kitchen area so there would be no further damage and it would be wide open for the replacement of the glass.

For Christmas I went up to Bellingham to be with the same son and daughter-in-law that I had spent Thanksgiving with. Since Sally has five cats and I don't like cats I stayed in a motel. We had a most enjoyable Christmas but the next morning there was a terrible snow storm forecast. I got up early, packed, had breakfast, filled my gas tank and left town figuring I'd go until the weather stopped me. Fortunately, with a heavy car, I had no real difficulty and made it all the way home.

It was several days before I got around to emptying my travel bag and when I did I found that there were no pajamas in the bag. The only ones missing from my drawer were my maroon ones. I called the motel, said I'd stayed in room 209 and were some maroon pajamas turned in by the maid? The manager said no, but would I call back in a few days and she would check. When I called back, no there were no pajamas. I figured that the maid's husband or boyfriend had a practically new pair of P.J's.

Eventually, the window was in and the drapery lady installed the new drapes and shades. Unfortunately the drapes were about 5/8" too long and drooped. So, rather than making her rework them, I dropped the tracks on which the lower glides were attached. This worked fine as I did the first four drapes. When I came to the side where the pillows were, I picked off the first pillow, there was the pair of pajamas I had left in Bellingham almost two months before. To say I was shocked would be a major understatement. I was positive there had been no P.J's at anytime that Sue or I had worked in the motor home. I stopped at the glass company and asked her. She was equally positive. The young man who had made up the bed after the window was finally installed no longer works there, but Sue knew that he is now going to Longview Community College and she would check with him for me.

In about a week she called and said, no, there were no P.J's under the pillow when he put it together. Since the motor home is always locked and I have the only keys there is absolutely no possibility whatsoever that any live human being put those maroon P.J's under the pillow. Do you believe in Spooks? I certainly do now. The only conclusion I can come to is that my little wife who died in September, 1996 is still around picking up after me as she did for over 57 married years. If God has let her have powers like this I sure wish she'd do something about my golf game.