Defensive Essay

            Love can be defined as “strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties,” by Webster Dictionary. To be able to love someone is something that is extremely complicated. As Montana, 1948, progresses, David, Frank’s nephew, goes from admiring Frank like a hero, to not knowing how to feel toward him. After Frank’s incident, David doesn’t know how to react to Frank. Montana, 1948, revolves around place and emotion.

            During Montana, 1948, (P)David matures. At the beginning of the book, David contains simple feelings. After he matures, (Q)he learns that there are more than love and hate, that you can feel, the world is more than black and white. While David is leaving Montana with his family, he realizes that what he felt for Frank (Q)“was gratitude, yes, but it was something more. It was very close to love” (162). This quote captures how (E) David’s experiences and surroundings altered his perception.

            Within Montana, 1948, David is (P) struggling through familyon not to, everyone loved him. Then David learns more about his uncle, and realizes that he doesn’t have to love Frank, an admired man. (E) Because of David’s love for Marie, which is a complicated relationship, he wants to turn his back on Frank.. He starts loving his uncle, because he has no reason not to. (P)He learns that there is more to life, and emotions than right and wrong. David discovers that he can’t completely love Frank because (E) of what Frank did, but he can feel something close to love, which is hard from David. The definition of ‘love’ for David changes throughout Montana, 1948. Not only do the events in David’s life change his perception, but the place, Montana, of where it all happened changed the way David saw it.

            David was a young child, when he faces his family’s problems. He believed what he was told, and didn’t much question much. Not only does David mature, he also learns,  affairs

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Add a comment March 1, 2009

Quote of Metphor

“This was my chance. I could ride along with my father and, when we were alone, tell him what I knew.”

Add a comment March 1, 2009

Quote of Relationship between Len and Wes

“Your dad hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Not just yet.”

Add a comment March 1, 2009

Quote of Importance Of Place

“We lived in Bentrock, the county seat and the only town of any size in the region.”

Add a comment March 1, 2009

Character Sketch. My Hero.

Strength. Courage. Hope. Life.

My grandma. Barbara Cance Woodke. My hero.

            During 6^th grade, my grandma’s cancer came back. She had fought it for so long. I remember my mom standing in our old house, at the top of the stairs. It was right before one of my Ice-Less (floor) hockey games. She told my sister, Becky and I that Grandma Barb was sick and she might not make it. I was terrified playing that night, we lost that game.

            My dad, her son, found out that she was sick, when he went up to Beloit, WI to do some chores for her. She left a note on the kitchen table that said she wasn’t feeling well, so she had a friend drive her to the hospital. The next week, my mom, Becky, and I drove up to see Grandma Barb. She was still in the hospital. My great aunt Verna, who was Grandma’s sister, from Florida, came up with her husband, Blair.

            I remember, sitting in the living room, and Aunt Verna helping me with my Math 87 homework.

            I don’t remember much about the hospital or Grandma going into a coma. That last day was the hardest. I knew I’d miss her so much. My mom told me that I’d have much time, and even though she was in a coma she could hear me and I needed to say my last goodbye. I remember, getting that feeling of how you knew what you had to do, but didn’t want to.  I felt like it was all a joke, none of it was real, it couldn’t be. Everything would be okay. I wish I could tell Grandma Barb how much I love her, and miss her.

            The next morning, my mom woke me up, and told me that Grandma Barb was gone. I didn’t know what to say or do. She was my hero. When I walked into the living room, it felt like something was missing.

            She taught me how to knit. My first scarf I made was 50 stitches across, yellow and purple.

            We sold her house, where it was my favorite place in the world. I wish I could go back, but I haven’t been back to Beloit since. It’s been four years. The man, a chef, who bought her house, reminded me of someone. He looked just like Emeril, but his name was Peter. A few months later, my dad went up to Beloit. The house was gone, Peter had it demolished. I’m afraid to go back, because I want to remember all the memories I have, the way it used to be.

            When Becky and I were a lot younger, we found a baby bunny. We named it Peter, like Peter Rabbit. What a coincidence. Or the times we’d pick raspberries from her garden. There on the river, was the boat house and the cool breeze by the shore. There were the HUGE brush pile fires we’d have to burn sticks, from her big yard. There wasn’t a time we’d visit her and she wouldn’t say ‘Cranston,’ because of the road. Or when we’d pick up Taco Bell for lunch and Grandma Barb would always have a Taco Supreme.

            That year was the worst Thanksgiving of my life. Grandma died on the 24^th, the 25^th was Thanksgiving, and her birthday was on the 26^th.  That Thanksgiving we didn’t have anything traditional. We watched the parade on her small T.V. on the kitchen table. I remember waiting in the kitchen to hear to verdict of the Scot Peterson case, whose verdict was guilty.

Christmases were the best with Grandma. She’d come down to our house, and she’d bring so many presents. Our whole living room would be full. Christmases are a lot different now.

Grandma Barb loved to needle-point and knit. She was the strongest person I knew. I can’t believe she’s gone. Over Christmas break, in 2008, I went through one of her old trunks. I found her first grade report card. It was full of her journals and photographs. I cried the whole time.

Grandma Barb wasn’t just family to me, as I’ve grown up I’ve realized that she means much more to me. She was the world to me, a hero. The phrase “You never know what you’ve got, till it’s gone” extremely applies her.

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Add a comment March 1, 2009

Quote of the Novel

“It was gratitude, yes, but it was something more. It was very close to love.”

Add a comment February 27, 2009

Essay of Place. Nehalem, Oregon.

The summer of 2008 of one of those summers that changed my life.  At the end of July, my parents, sister, and I flew out or Oregon. We then drove down to Port Orford, just north of the California- Oregon border. We stayed in a small motel, the Castaway, which felt like a second home. From the porch you could see the whole port and the ocean. To say the least, the view was incredible. To the left there were rocks the size of boulders and to the right, there was a dock. The Castaway sat on top of a large hill. The rocks, shoe, and dock were located at the bottom of the hill. Summer wasn’t just three months of freedom; it was the summer I grew up, because of where I was.

            Becky, my sister, and I climbed up huge rocks and took pictures. We also saw a lot of starfish, because it was during low tide. I can still smell the cold ocean air, the sound beneath my feet, and this crazy black dog the chased Becky and I. Becky was so scared, but I wasn’t.

            It was a small town, and everyone was friendly and nice. Everything is our motel/ condo kept breaking, first the freezer, then the shower. The guy, who owned the Castaway, had a cat that he didn’t own, just fed. He let it go into everyone’s room, which my mom didn’t like because she hates cats.

            One afternoon, we drove down to see the beautiful, but huge Redwood forests. The hills and vibrant colors were glowing, similar to a rainforest. I remember my mom and I saw a huge tree that fell down, which made me think of the Amazon rainforests.

            Then we left Port Orford, driving up the coast on Highway 101, heading toward Aunt Evie’s house. Once we got there, I fell in love in Oregon. Her house was so beautiful. Her husband, a painter, died before I was born. Becky and I went through his studio and looked at his art work, which was amazing. The atmosphere of her home was friendly and accepting.

            Evie lives right on the coast, next to a mountain, in Nehalem. The friendly vibe of Nehalem had, made it a dream destination. While we were there, we celebrated her 88^th birthday, which was a lot of fun. One night, my dad, sister, and I went down on the coast, sitting in the sand, and had a bonfire. I can still smell the burning driftwood; and feel the cold wind, blowing against and hitting my legs. Every time I was near the ocean, I stuck my feet in, no matter how cold the water was, or what time it was, I didn’t care. I would also write in the sand.           

On Evie’s birthday I made dinner. She was so impressed, I felt so proud. Before we got to Evie’s house we stopped at Tillamook, and got ice cream. They have the best ice cream in the world. The chocolate peanut butter ice cream was amazing, Peaches and Cream coming in at a close second. While eating the ice cream, the chunks of freshly made peanut butter were huge! We stopped to get gas. The attendant pumped our gas, he had too, and it was the law. Only two states have that law: Oregon and New Jersey.

            The small deli in the downtown was just like in the movies, everyone knew everyone by name. If one has ever seen Gilmore Girls, a T.V. show, Nehalem was just like Stars Hollow.  Nehalem is a simple place that I would trade the rest of the world for.

            Evie wrote stories, which she remembers from when she was growing up. My family and I read them, and it was crazy reading the story that was about a dust storm, from when she was 7 years old.

            She then told us how she met her husband, Don. I wrote the story down because it was so romantic. It was before World War II, they were both in college. Evie and a few of her friends met some boys for dinner. It was oblivious that the first time they saw each other, they fell in love. I wish I could have met Don. From what I’ve heard, he seemed like such an incredible man.

            I slept on the ground level, at Evie’s house, on a pull-out couch. The T.V. was an old one; I had to pull the bottom part open, similar to a projector. It was pretty cool, though. I remember watching Friends and Sex in the City, before I fell asleep.

            The next day we all got in the car and drove up and over the bridge into Washington.  Evie told us how she remembers her and Don driving up. There was a rest stop in Washington, we got out. They had a bunch of maps. I took two, one from Ellis Island and one from Kelso, WA. It reminded me of Ms. Ellis (Bahnson), a teacher I admire; and my name and Kelso, from That 70’s Show. We got into the car and drove back to Evie’s.

Every night we watched the sun set over the ocean. The sky looked pink and orange. It was breath taking. There on the beach, Becky and I saw a guy wind-boarding in the sand. It was like he was riding a skateboard with a sail in the sand. A man had a yellow lab; she was the most beautiful, friendly dog.

Nehalem, Oregon is not just a place on a map, or a stop off the road. It’s someone’s home, I place I wish I could call my own. I live half way across the country, in a modern world, where everything is different. The summer of 2008 is when I fell in love with a place where your neighbor brings over brownies just to be nice, a location of family and community.

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1 comment February 27, 2009

Extended Metaphor Poem

This is an extended metaphor poem about Frank, from the novel, Montana,1948.

Continue Reading Add a comment February 24, 2009