Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Sometime in the early 1980s I accidentally became "one of those out-of-town protestors." If you keep reading, you'll see the story unfold through my memory alone - I intentionally didn't search online to find the details (although I will when I'm finished writing) - I just wanted to remember. And what I remember most, and hope never to forget, is that her name was Marilyn Banks.
In my early 20s, recently out of college, I was working with the non-profit organization Double Helix. I don't think that KDHX was on the radio yet, and cable TV hadn't arrived in any part of St. Louis. The staff and board members were the ideal urban melting pot of races, ages, education, and income levels. Everyone was creative and idealistic and energetic; I recall a group of individuals who probably never fit in to other groups, thereby becoming a group in which everyone was welcome. We were all working together to put that independant voice back on the airwaves of St. Louis.
Then came a call from the independent radio station in Kansas City, MO. A white police officer shot and killed a black woman. (African-American was not in common usage at that time, so I'm not going to use it here.) The station was involved in planning a peaceful protest, and would we join them? Of course we would, and a group of us piled into cars and took off on I-70 for a day of road trip and marching/chanting. The KC station had signs ready for the volunteers, and probably pizza or subs for lunch (yes, the protest was a catered affair); all we had to do was show up and show our support for a grieving and outraged community.
To the best of my recollection, here's what happened in Kansas City: a black woman about my own age was sitting on her front stoop playing with her two young children. Suddenly a young black man sped past, pursued by the white officer. He fired his gun at the man, and accidentally killed Marilyn Banks. Frankly I don't remember if the young man were armed and shooting also, nor what the chase was about, nor if the officer ever caught up with him. I'm sure I knew at the time we protested, but that has slipped away from what was important to me. The protest was to urge an indictment against the officer, and no, I don't remember his name.
At the given time we left the radio station, and marched to the appointed gathering place, signs raised high over our heads, chants filling the air. We were, again, a melting pot of people. There were rousing speeches, more chanting, some singing, more speeches, and then everyone slowly drifted away in small bunches. It was almost like a converging of tent revival meeting and political rally. I'm sure there were police in force, but since I top 5'1" if I really stand up straight, crowds are tough for me; at any rate, I didn't notice them especially. We said good-bye to our new KC friends, and went back to St. Louis.
I remember keeping pretty quiet about the events because I didn't believe the officer should have been indicted for murder. Then and now I don't believe the officer killed Marilyn Banks on purpose. I think it was a tragic accident. I think about a young woman's life ended too soon. I think about 2 children growing up without a mother. I think about a young man who will always have her death on his mind. I think about another young man who ought to have her death on his mind. I think about a community that came together for a few hours of shared emotions and ideas and rage and grief and reflection and prayer and support.
But I have never forgotten her name was Marilyn Banks.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
So, when you load the crock pot with oatmeal before going to bed, you really ought to butter tha pan. When you don't you wake up really early because you think the house is on fire, but it's really just the oatmeal burning on the sides and bottom of the pan. And that virtually none of the milk/water was absorbed by the oats. Then you have to start over with a pan on the stovetop. Then for dinner you finally choose The King & I for some Thai food. Even though you tell the staff that you'd prefer not to rush, they apparently really want to turn the tables. And they want to refill your glasses after every sip. I would rather have a slightly neglectful wait staff than one who constantly intrudes on conversation. Better luck next year.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Just passed a car w/ license plate, HURL. Paean to puking? Lots of dead rodents on the roads this morning (sorry, no photos today). Pandora should have a channel of Sir Neville Mariner at The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields just so my brain can repeat the phrase over and over and over. And more symphony orchestras should play more Scarlatti.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
Thursday, November 13, 2014
I hardly ever bake - there's too much science for one thing. For another, I don't have much of a sweet tooth. And, without double ovens making cookies just takes too darn long. However, pans of "bar cookies" aka dessert casserole cookies fix the last one. I seriously don't care what shape my cookies are, just that they be chewy. And the genius of people who thunk up taking a cake mix and turning it into cookie batter makes it easier. Generally what stops me is that I don't have eggs in the fridge, 'cause I don't like them much. This week, however, I have 6 eggs that husband brought back from time travelling, and I had to do something with them. So I made cookies. One box carrot cake, 2 eggs (beaten), 5 T melted butter, and some chocolate chips. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes. Presto, a treat for Knit Night.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
I finished this Open House Cowl in time for--you guess it--Kirkwood Knittery's Fall Open House. The pattern is available in the shop now, free with a yarn purchase. I will add it to Ravelry soon. The colorful collar was designed for contrasting colors of fingering weight yarn, but I couldn't resist using the Oakwood from www.blackbunnyfibers.com (which I held doubled. It's paired with Autumn Wind from Lotus Yarns.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Do you love Koigu Premium Painters Palette Merino (KPPPM) yarn as much as I do? Check out the current issue of Koigu Magazine (No. 6). It's filled with lovely designs, and 2 of them were designed by me! Both the Bubbles & Stripes Legwarmers, and the Raspberry Wriggle Tunic feature easy-to-work slip-stitch techniques. Visit http://koigu.com/home.html to find a retailer near you. And find the pattern details on Ravelry at my designer page, http://www.ravelry.com/designers/robyn-m-schrager
Friday, November 7, 2014
Since we're officially into November Sweeps, I offer you my Soap Opera Writers' Rules: Soap Opera Writers Rules #1: If characters are in a car, there will be a crash. #2: A child goes to summer camp, and comes home enrolled in High School. #3: College and med/law school conclude in 1 year. #4: Weddings are always interrupted. #5. Births occur only in Sweeps months, no matter how long the pregnancy. #6. Every pregnancy requires at least one emergency hospitalization. #7. Prolonged contract negotiations may lead to coma, or going over a cliff or falling into a river or other situation presuming death but without recovering a body. #8. Sex usually occurs on a couch or desk. #9: When you persist in saying your secret out loud in public, someone will overhear you. #10: A paternity test will always be altered at least once. #11: More than 75% of one-night-stands result in pregnancy. #12: Being blind, deaf or paralyzed is never permanent. #13: There's never cell phone reception/power when needed. #14: Every child born with questionable paternity will develop a childhood disease requiring some transplant/transfusion to reveal the true father. #15: A woman may have a child of 30, whom she birthed after the age of 20, and still contemplate becoming pregnant. #16: There are only slightly more full-siblings than half-siblings, but even the full-sibs were born during different marriages. #17: Since a character is SORASed as a child, the adult must be "youthened" for the next dozen years or so, until the true age catches up (assuming the Soap lasts that long). #18: No matter what the distance between venues, you can get there during a commercial break... #19: ...however single events such as weddings and holidays last at least three days. #20: Very little money is budgeted for men's shirts. Feel free to add to the list!
I haven't been to sleep yet, so pretending this counts as Nov. 6th. Happiness is merino, angora, cashmere, tencel & cotton all rolled up together.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
I hoped that my day as an election poll manager would be too busy to get much knitting done, and it mostly was. The real reason, however, that I didn't progress far was that my gauge loosened up 1/2 inch over 25 stitches. Same yarn, same needles, clearly a different bat channel, so I put down the knitting. I'll pick it up again after 2 decent night's sleep in a row.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Mr. Rimsky-Korsakov, your oevre "Scheharazade" is a lovely piece of music. But my god, it never ends. YES, I KNOW that's the point, but seriously. I can find many places in the score where you could have penned that double verticle line. I had to sit in my car this morning for an extra 10 minutes waiting for the last note to fade away. No, I couldn't just turn off the radio, I was compelled to keep listening. I quote from the fabulous TV show, White Collar: A happy ending depends on when you stop telling the story. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptC3szb4zHs
Sunday, November 2, 2014
I'm still so very sorry about the explosions last week of the unmanned Antares supply rocket, and the manned test flight of VirginGalactic's SpaceShipTwo. I've wanted to be an astronaut as long as I can remember, probably since the first time I read Little Bear while the USA was deeply in a race for the moon. To make it even more upsetting I just finished reading the epistolary novel, God is an Astronaut by Alyson Foster. In Foster's story the narrator's husband works for a company that operates tourist low-orbit space flights, the lastest of which has exploded killing all on board. She is reluctantly persuaded to ride the first flight after the investigation to the cause of the explosion is discovered and remedied. Unlike her, I would volunteer to take that trip willingly. I still want to boldly go....
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Tomorrow, today will be yesterday, so what's an hour more or less? I love it when we have to change the clocks forward or backward; the arbitrary nature of time captures my imagination. I changed mine before leaving for work this morning. Sadly, I haven't accomplished anything more in the extra hour.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Those of you who know me in real life or online know that I loathe baseball. I'd rather watch paint dry. However, I do love slip stitch knitting. And I love knitting hats. And I love supporting success of any kind in my City. I found a stitch pattern in one of my plethora of stitchionaries, and thought to myself, "You know, if you work this in alternate directions it will make a herringbone pattern." And then after watching an episode of White Collar - the one where Neal steals a baseball and Peter reveals his baseball-loving past - I said to myself (outloud), "You know, if you use white yarn with the contrast color red, it will look like a baseball." And I said, "If you hurry you can whip this up into a hat for the 2014 baseball season opening day, and people will think you're part of the cool kids." So I did, and the Baseball Beanie was born.www.halosofhope.org before we're out of the running, and ask for the coupon code. (The pattern is always available for purchase at .