Friends,

Here is Common Christianity column #1025 (7-7-26), “A Dash of Thankfulness.” A friend from childhood passed away and I had a few thoughts during her Celebration of Life.  See the column below, or at our blog CommonChristianity.blogspot.com, or on social media.  Hope you had a happy Fourth of July!

Blessings, Bob

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Labels: 1 Thessalonians 5:18, Battle Creek, Celebration of Life, Chrysler, Kokomo IN, Lena, Linda Ellis, my sister Linda, The Beatles, The Dash Poem

Spirituality Column #2025

July 7, 2026

Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

A Dash of Thankfulness    By Bob Walters

“Give thanks in all circumstances…” - 1 Thessalonians 5:18

My sister Linda and I recently went to childhood friend Lena’s Celebration of Life.

Linda remembers Lena, a neighbor, standing in our driveway to greet and meet us the day we moved into our new home in Kokomo, Ind. We had moved there from Battle Creek, Mich., where our dad had been city editor of the Enquirer and News newspaper. He now would work in public relations at the Chrysler Transmission Plant in the car industry hot-bed city 50 miles north of Indianapolis.

A piece of trivia I love about the move is that it was the weekend of February 8-9, 1964, the Sunday the Beatles first appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show. In a nation still stinging from President John F. Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963, the Beatles from England sparked a re-shaping of American youth and music culture. For us, Kokomo was a great place to grow up. We lived there through our college years.

But, back to Lena. She was Linda’s age, and the word was out that a new girl was joining sixth grade at Lincoln Elementary School. In no time, we were folded into the Walnut Street “gang” of 12-15 kids (depending how you counted) going to school together, playing kick-the-can on Sunday evenings, hiking through Foster Park to the immense, round Seashore swimming pool, stopping off at the miniature golf course for sno-cones, and riding bikes all over Kokomo’s downtown and west side.

When I was an altar boy at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Kokomo, my usual short-cut foot route to church was through Lena’s back yard. Her family, when they went, attended the Greek Orthodox church in Indianapolis; now located in west Carmel.

Lena was a delight. Friendly, smart, full of humor, a beautiful girl of Greek descent. Two doors farther down the block was LeaLea, later a Kokomo High School cheerleader (a very big deal). “Lena, LeaLea, and Linda” were a tight unit of great friends who stayed in touch the rest of their lives. Lena died June 11 at age 73.

I wanted to share the flavor of our childhood days. At some point I learned that Lena’s name was actually Helen (a good Greek name), and LeaLea’s name was Leslie, though I never called them by their real names. LeaLea, sadly, could not make the funeral due to illness. I was last with them at a Walnut St. lunch reunion in early 2020.

Lena was married (then divorced) and had a son, Christian, who delivered a breathtaking eulogy at the celebration of life in Broad Ripple (Indianapolis) where they lived. We knew Lena survived cancer twice, but there were other difficult times of which neither Linda nor I were aware. From the pictures, Lena retained her beauty throughout.

Leading the service was a retired priest (now a police chaplain) who recited parts of The Dash Poem by Linda Ellis. Published in 1998, it is a popular verse noting that a tombstone has two dates – birth and death – with a dash in between. The poem’s end:

 “So, when your eulogy is being read with your life’s action to rehash, would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?”

Lena lived a full life, traveled, ran marathons, taught and tutored special ed kids, and loved her son and granddaughter intensely. But I grew uneasy as the chaplain returned multiple times to the line about “how proud Helen must be” of her “dash.”

I’m guessing Lena, ever gracious and humble, would have cringed, too. Proud?

Lena, I think, would be thankful for her “dash,” not proud. Pride is when we give our lives to ourselves; thankfulness, like love, are the eternal blessings we give away.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) and Lena’s younger brother Johnny were great pals.

Spirituality Column No. 557
July 18, 2017
Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

By Bob Walters


That’s when he left journalism to take a corporate communications job at the Chrysler Transmission plant in Kokomo, Ind., beginning work there just a few weeks before President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in November 1963.  In February 1964 our family (dad, mom and four kids) moved to Indiana, as it turns out and for historical perspective, the same weekend the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show.  So that was a while ago, and I’ve been a Hoosier ever since.

I was then in fourth grade and it wasn’t for another few years when I began to show some writing aptitude and made the high school newspaper staff as a freshman that I remember talking with dad about journalism.  He always had told newspaper stories but, prior to my teen years, all I really remembered was stopping into the Enquirer newsroom after church occasionally where they had this amazing new device called a “Xerox” machine.  It could copy the image of whatever you put under the flap cover.

I had no idea what dad actually did at the Enquirer – I was five or six years old at the time – but one Sunday he “copied” my plastic sunglasses on that Xerox machine.  That just seemed so … magical.  It wasn’t until later, in the years leading up to my own education and career in journalism, that I paid close attention to the way dad described what I am very sure was the golden era of American journalism; now long passed.

Dad told the story of weeping at his typewriter on April 12, 1955 – as the father of two young children (my sister Linda and me; younger siblings Joe and Debbie came along a little later) – while editing the wire story about the public release of Jonas Salk’s vaccine for polio, a disease Dad’s children would now not have to fear or endure.

Working as a stringer (part-timer) for Associated Press in Detroit, Dad, a non-golfer, was assigned to cover the U.S. Open being played in Michigan.  Grousing around the press tent about how he didn’t know anything about golf, legendary AP national sports columnist Will Grimsley looked up at Dad and said, “Y’know John, we have guys downtown writing about murders every day but they never committed one.”

And then one story that truly stuck in my mind was Dad’s coverage of a labor dispute at the Clark Equipment factory in Battle Creek.  Intent on finding facts, truth, and covering the disagreement fairly, Dad noted that when it was over, principals from both sides told him privately how angry they got at Dad’s writing, but admitted he never published an untruth.  To me, that is the core of journalistic objectivity and integrity.

How does this relate to Jesus?  Well, Dad for sure was no Bible thumping doctrinaire, but he was a traditional Episcopalian who knew that objective truth was a real thing and that a slanted, partisan agenda had no real place in hard news coverage.

I am sorry my father died (1991) before I found my faith in Christ (2001).  I would like to have known what he thought, objectively, with his humanity, humor and honor.

It would be quite a story.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) learned to type by fifth grade; a big deal in the 1960s.