Thursday, September 30, 2010

AQUARIAN 09/30/00

Subj: aquarian
Date: Sat Sep 30 22:03:42 EDT 2000

So many thoughts today that connected to water, starting simply enough – with taking a last, lingering look at September of our Mary Engelbreit calendar.

Although it is the last day of the month and I have seen it every day, for some reason it was as if I saw it with new eyes today. It is a picture of children swinging out over a pond on a rope swing. I was suddenly back at the pond with the older children, watching them swing out over the water and back and out over the water and back, then finally swinging out and letting go and dropping - kersplash! - into the pond. There seems to be something universal about rope swings. Do they have them in Darkest Peru and Deepest Africa? I am sure they do.

The most recent youngster I saw swim was Karen. Karen has a lithe and lean body, well suited for swimming. She swam in Sydney's Olympic Pool when I was down there in 1995. That lass took to swimming like a duck to water. What I would give to watch her make a splash and slice through the water.

Speaking of the Olympics, late this afternoon Elsa shouted up from the den and turned to volume up so I could hear “The Star Spangled Banner.”

I was so frustrated that these antiquated legs cannot scootle down the steps. I had to be satisfied with her description of what sounded like a fine sight - American yachtsmen being presented with gold, the American flag in the foreground and the glory of the Sydney Opera House in the background. They raced right there in the harbor! Oh my, that must have been an incredible sight.

Finally, as Elsa was massaging my face with Oil of Olay, we started talking about Connie Rosenquist who introduced me to O of O and who took me down to Bermuda several times to keep her company. A water baby such as myself was right in my element. I will write about it sometime, but not tonight - bed beckons and I must obey.

Love to one and all, especially to Donna and Jason. Nite nite and God bless
- Grandma L

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Grandma L's birth

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

OF LOVE & LOSS 09/29/00

Subj: of love and loss
Date: Fri Sep 29 22:06:55 EDT 2000

This is a happy weekend. I do believe, if my calculations are right, that it is Donna Heldon's wedding day as this posting is posted, it being afternoon in Australia. Donna was just a tadger when I first clapped eyes on her 25 years ago, on my first trip Down Under. I do not know what is more shocking - that she is old enough to be getting married or that it has been 25 years since my first visit to the Hurstville society. Lots of loving thoughts and best wishes to the happy couple from a loving Grandma L'.

More Southern Hemisphere happiness - a dear-to-my-heart friend from Brazil just announced her engagement to a Bryn Athyn lad, which delights me for several reasons. First of all, I am happy for Claudia. I remember the first time I met her and asked how to pronounce her name - it is CLOUD-YA.

If you know Claudia, you understand when I say that I connected to her instantly. One short talk and she was in my heart. Kelly-Carolyn-Natalya-Claudia formed a special circle of young women in my life. Having their friendship is a special grace.

Adam is a lucky man and I thank him for keeping such a special woman stateside.

My thoughts turn to another Claudia - Claudia Cranch Gladish and to her sisters and family. I am still getting used to the thought that their sister, Nora, is gone. It does not seem possible. It was just a blink of an eye ago that she was packing up and heading off to the West Coast. I am grateful for Galadrial's wedding, which brought me back into contact with Nora, and for our women's discussion list, to which she belonged. A friend who attended memorial celebration shared her impressions. It was held in the beautiful Wayfarer's Chapel - the reading from the Gospel of John about the Samaritan woman at the well, the soaring piano piece, a recording of Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World" and closing with the Laughter song from Mary Poppins.

As the woman who shared it said, it was a "celebration of a wonderful woman's short life on earth, beautiful, touching and inspiring."

I head up the wooden hill with a sense of joy and sadness and joy -
Grammie Kay

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter (who messed up the last two days' repostings) in celebration of the centenary of Grammie Kay's birth


Subj: what a wonderful world (long and a little meandering)
Date: Thu Sep 28 22:31:15 EDT 2000

To start, the following was written by a young friend yesterday and it so beautifully describes that day's weather - following a couple of mean, raw and miserable days - I had to share it...

"Today the sun is shining in brisk, clear blue-sky air, the flowers are still blooming as though winter weren't just around the corner, and we are basking in the scents of late roses and marigolds, mingled. One's woolens feel like new clothes, as they haven't been out much since the last of last year's late winter, and the world in general looks crisp and freshly made after its soaking bath of the last few days. Amazing what a difference a day makes."

The last few weeks have been shiny bright to this Gramster. I've talked to Michael and to Scott, who called the other day. Scott sounds so different, so grown up, it makes me homesick for the little boy and wistful to see the full grown man.

I have received several e-mail messages from Karen, a lovely note from Leanne Mahy (the Australian lass touring the USA), and I've had the profound happiness of hearing "Advance, Australia Fair" several times during the Olympics.

Time warp
Last Sunday was the BA Theta Alpha tea, which was so special to this Gramster. Moments I especially remember include Mira presenting a box to her daughter. Thoughts of Ruth, her mother and my dear friend, came to mind and I thought of Mira and her brothers and sisters as the children they were.

As you grow older, life becomes an interesting time warp and the past can be as vivid - sometimes more vivid - than the present. There were mothers at the tea whose mothers I knew as babies.

Of course, being in Cairnwood, where I spent so many happy times and where Gay always seems just around the corner, is always dear to me.

Our Very Own Spiderman
If I have already mentioned the following, forgive me repeating myself. Last Sunday morning, Elsa had "prep" duty for Contemporary Service. That means she helps get what she calls "nibbles and sips" ready for the social time after the church service.

I heard her head out around 8:20 a.m., then a few minutes later heard a car come up the drive, someone get out, the front door open, and Elsa's voice ring out upstairs to a sleeping John, "Get dressed as if it was an emergency, but it's not." A few seconds later, "Slippers will do." A moment later, he was headed down the stairs and she was telling him to trust her. I was intrigued - who would not be? About 5 minutes later, a car pulled up, a door opened and a door closed, and the car backed out and was gone.

When John padded his way upstairs, I could not resist asking what it was all about.

Background - John loves spiders and spider's webs. He gave Elsa Miss Spider's Wedding for an anniversary present, she gave him a stuffed Miss Spider for Christmas.

Well, it seems that as she drove down Sandpiper, Elsa saw ~ way high over the street, hanging from a telephone wire stretched across the street ~ an exquisitely executed spider's web hanging free, like a piece of fairy cloth, clearly outlined by the morning dew, and had run home to get John so he could see it, too.

There are very few things I have known John to rouse himself from his slumbers to see, but watching him describe it to me, I knew seeing it was a treasure to him. I liked that, I liked it a lot.

I did not know that mentioning homemade cocoa and bread would strike such a deep cord in so many people. My goodness, I got some lovely notes talking about similar experiences and delight in the scent and taste of hot cocoa and toasted bread. I have them printed out to read in my quiet times.

So many of my treasures arrive via the Internet. I received a wonderful posting from Lois Furry that has me talking to myself about another trip down to visit her and Bob. I have read it at least twice. When I read it, I am down in their wonderful Florida home, having a cup of coffee and checking out the back yard to see if any 'gators meander out of the high grass. Bob and Lois are hosts without peer and she can write a truly tantalizing letter.

Remembering "The Crash"
Perhaps the most wondrous thing of all is that it was just a year ago today that I went crashing down on the bathroom tile at 3:00 a.m. I remember heading into the bathroom, facing the window, then having the sensation that I was falling and thinking, "Oh no, my goodness! What is..."

I was not aware of Elsa and John pounding down the steps from the "Tower Bower" to my bathroom, of them trying to open a door that I was bang up against. I do remember Elsa coming in and John staying behind me. I remember not knowing what the problem was, but knowing that whatever it was HURT. I remember the sensation of relief when the ambulance crew arrived and did such a great job getting me out and how courteous they were, not using the siren until after they got out of our residential area. (this was Mom's first wee small hours bathroom fall - her second was down in Alexandria, late July 2001)

Interesting story ~ Elsa, like Pete before her, is notorious for letting her gas gauge get too low. She might have paid the price that night - how many gas stations are opened at 3:45 a.m.? – had it not been for the kindness of Gretchen and Andrew Glover. Answering an intuitive voice that said, "Now you're in for it!" as she headed down Buck Road, she parked the car outside the Glovers and nipped in to see if she could borrow their car.

Imagine what thoughts went through Gretchen and Andrew's minds, hearing someone at their door in the wee small hours of the morning. But, true blue friends that they are, they handed over the keys and Elsa and John were off.

I heard the ER staff abuzz with a story they heard from the ambulance crew of a couple who started off for the hospital in one car and arrived in another. My thanks and love to Gretchen and Andrew.

It is, indeed, a wonderful world!

There were no ill effects of my stroke. My inability to get out of bed is related to my arthritis, not the "episode" as the doctors called it. My speech is fine, I can walk about as well as most 90-year olds (with the help of "Barb"), and my appetite is back in fine fettle. I have more contact with more loved ones that I could have imagined possible a year ago.

I do not think I could have made the recovery I did if I had not started my spiritual questing the year or so before. I was spiritually and emotionally tougher and that helped get me through a lot.

Thanks & love
My thanks and love to all of you. Being somewhere out there gives me a cosmic strength.

That sounds terribly New Age, but this Gocky/Nan/Mum/Mom/ Grammie/ Kay/ Grandma L'/Cybergram/Aunt Kay/TechnoGram/Katharine Reynolds Lockhart/ Mrs. Raymond Lewis Lockhart, ADPOI really and truly does feel blessed with a new age, a new awareness, a new lightness and love of being.

You have helped make it possible, my "higher power" has made it possible, and it all starts and ends with the Lord, who makes all things possible.

Love and hugs (and, to quote a cat-loving friend, licks and purrs**) - GK

** Mom wrote this back when the house was truly Squirrel Haven, several years before kitties came to rule our roost; with the exception of Mike & Kerry's cat, down in Australia, Mom was no fan of kitty cats

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of GK's (Grammie Kay) birth

Sunday, September 26, 2010

MEAN, RAW and MISERABLE 09/26/00

Subj: mean, raw and miserable
Date: Tue Sep 26 22:28:33 EDT 2000

Starting yesterday and all the way through today, the weather has been mean, raw and miserable. Last night sort of perked up a bit, if for a not-so-wonderful reason.

Elsa had a disheartening day at work and called to ask if both John and I could meet her at Barnes & Noble/WG. When Elsa wants both of us to join her, it is a sure sign that the day has been rough.

John loaded "Barb" (my walker) into Silver Bullet and off we went to meet our gal.

The last time the two of us went over to meet Elsa it was raining - torrential rain, that time - and we had the great good luck to run into their dear friends, Hutch and Linda. We had the same great good fortune on this go 'round.

Hutch looked different, although I could not put my finger on why. No glasses! He recently had cataract surgery. It was good talking to someone else undergoing the same procedure at roughly the same time. We talked about how great it was to read again. For the first time in ages, I can read newspaper and magazine articles. Think how things will be after both eyes are done and I have new glasses. Amazing.

Back to today's weather watch. It was just plain nasty. It did bring to mind when the children were young, because it was just the type of day that I would have made hot cocoa.

Have any of you made hot cocoa from real cocoa, not from a mix? I had to be careful not to let it get too hot or it would get a "skin" on top.

Of course, we had to have marshmallows. Cocoa without marshmallows seems somewhat lacking, don't you think?

Another warm and toasty thought on a day like today is the smell of homemade bread baking. I loved to make bread for my family and they certainly enjoyed eating it. It seemed like an entire loaf could disappear in a matter of moments. We all loved the "nose" (the ends) of the bread. How we ever came to call it "nose" I knows not, but “heel” is not all that understandable either and lots of people call it that. What do YOU call the ends of a loaf of bread? I know that one thing I call it is delicious.

What interesting taste and smell memories to go off to sleep with. Toasted bread with butter and a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with a coverlet of marshmallows. Yum!

Warm and loving thoughts on a raw and nasty night - Mom L.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Mom L's birth

Saturday, September 25, 2010

MEMORIES 09/25/00

Subj: memories
Date: Mon Sep 25 23:42:13 EDT 2000

Yesterday was Bryn Athyn Theta Alpha's tea honoring the ANC Girls School freshmen. I have been to every tea since the first, five years ago. This was the best yet.

It was dear to my heart, because - for the first time - Elsa (who is project coordinator) held workshops at Squirrel Haven instead of at De Charms Hall or the elementary school art room.

It was wonderful having women out in our own dining room, working on their boxes. Every year, I am astonished at the talent and inspiration the women bring to this project. Oh, and the variety.

I enjoyed renewing old friendships and making new friends (and meeting one hunkish husband). Already I am having a bit of a let down. It was fun having so much energy in the house, to get lots of phone calls for the "Craft Diva."

The tea is always special to me. I know that Gay Pendleton was very, very happy to have it held at Cairnwood. I remember how much it meant to her to attend it one year. She was proud of the women who decorated the boxes so beautifully, she was proud of the girls, she was proud of Bryn Athyn Theta Alpha for designing an event where mothers could share - in their own words and way -often unexpressed feelings. Every year I think it cannot get better and every year seems better than the last.

This year, Karen McQueen (BA/TA president) had a "Queen Mum" chair for me to roost on. It really does look like a throne, a high high-backed chair in a beautiful peach brocade. I felt like I should be giving that little wave. Sitting there gave me a front row seat for the proceedings.

Here is how the presentation works - after the girls and their mothers and other box designers have sampled the delicious tea spread in what was once the library, every one troops back into the beautiful entry hall, with its elegant stairway sweeping down on the left, the handsome fireplace on the right and the wall of windows and French doors in between. Right in front of the window was a table covered with the boxes.

This year, Lynn Ellen Zimmer - who had presented a box to an older daughter a couple years back - lead off the proceedings. After each mother or designee presented the box to her daughter, usually saying a few words of appreciation and love, she picked up the next box and that woman came forward to present it to her daughter, and so on until the last box was presented.

This was the fifth year I attended, the fifth year of listening to Moms make heartfelt comments to their daughters. After Karen made a few closing comments, I asked if I could say a few words.

Elsa says she assumed I would comment on what fun it was to have some of the women working on their boxes at our house. I could not see her face when I started talking, but women who could said she was stunned by what came next.

I had spotted my chance and - with some encouragement from Jamie Magro Rose (Mrs. Lenny) - I took it. I talked about having in my hands an invisible box to give to MY daughter. I talked about how much she means to me, how she encourages and cheers me on, how she believes in me and even browbeats me a bit to do more than I think I can, how I love her and am grateful she is my daughter. Elsa was hornswoggled if ever anyone was, completely speechless, at least for a few moments.

I have no idea what the girls thought about it, they hadn't the vaguest idea who either one of us are. It might have seemed strange to the freshmen, but looking at their mothers (and the sprinkling of grandmas and aunts and sisters and cousins - sounds like Sir Joseph Porter KCB's entourage), the Moms got it. Best of all, I got to say it. It felt great.

I will miss having the ladies around. It was fun and having so much energy around energized me. A couple promised to call and even stop by. How kind.

Next up is the Women's Weekend at Tonche, less than two weeks away.

My goodness, I am practically unrecognizable these days. Someone asked if mountain biking would be next. (What is mountain biking??)

It was a wonderful, wonderful weekend.

To BA Theta Alpha, the Moms et al and the girls, I say, "Thanks for the memories."

To Elsa - the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face to shine upon you, the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.

Love - Mom

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Mom's birth

Friday, September 24, 2010


Subj: Australia, a bit more fair
Date: Sun Sep 24 22:51:31 EDT 2000

Tears flowed as I listened from the kitchen as "Advance, Australia Fair" was played for Cathy Freeman.

Elsa had the volume turned up as high as it would go and the two of us grinned at each other like a couple of idiots, she at the foot of the steps, describing the action, me at the top, hanging onto every word and note.

I imagined how it felt to be in Stadium Australia as the whole place sang the words to the national anthem and I am sure, quite sure, that the entire country sang along with them.

I imagined an entire continent united in song and pride.

What a moment. Go. Aussies!

Love - Nan

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Nan's birth

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


Subj: Paradise in flames
Date: Thu Sep 21 23:28:27 EDT 2000

I was shocked to hear that a forest fire recently roared through my beloved Paradise. Set in the Sierra Nevada mountains, Paradise is where I spent a summer with Lynn Asplundh and her brood.

I have a lot of wonderful memories of Paradise, but the one that came vividly to mind today was when a forest fire was raging nearby. That fire, over 60 years ago, had over a 9-mile front. We could watch it from where we were "camped" out. Lynn had the car packed and it was headed out the drive in case we needed to make a break for it. I remember watching the fire in the not-so-distant distance. You could see a flicker of flame at the base of a great evergreen, then - WHOOSH! - the flame would race up to the top of the tree and there would be a great explosion.

When I think of the danger we were in, I quake in my boots. At the same time, I would not have missed it. See something like that, and nature's might becomes impossible to forget. I learned something else. There are trees that only release their seeds when they explode with heat.

That makes me think of one of our family's favorite Australian Christmas cards, sent from Mim's dear friends, the Bennetts, who have a sheep station Down Under. That card had us baffled for many years, until either Kerry or Scott explained it to us. It is of a field swept with fire. We could not see how a fire could be Christmasy. Ah, but it is, because with the cleansing fire comes the opportunity for the land to renew itself.

Yes, fire is destructive, crisping everything in its path to a fare-thee-well, but because of it, new life can break forth.

Another strange but true experience with fire, although not first hand. Mike
& Kerry and Karen came for a Christmas visit during Scott's first year at college in Bryn Athyn. That was the year of the incredible ice storms. While timbers were being shivered here in Pennsylvania, New South Wales - at the height of summer - blistered under incredible heat. It was so hot - 108F - eucalyptus trees were spontaneously exploding. The news was filled with dire expectations of entire koala populations wiped out by the flames. When people were able to get to where the fires had been raging, they were stunned to find most of the koalas had somehow survived. That leaves me in awe. What we do not know makes what we do seem piddly.

My prayers are with the people in Paradise, and with dear, once-upon-a-time Californians, Claudia Cranch Gladish and Margie Cranch Echols, whose sister, Nora, has slipped the bonds of earth.

Love to all my dear ones - Gocky

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Gocky's birth

Saturday, September 18, 2010


Mom sent out two postings on 09/18/00 ~ this is the 2nd. It's also the posting I sent down to Karen & Mike on their 2009 wedding day.

Subj: voices from under the Southern Cross
Date: Mon Sep 18 21:49:34 EDT 2000

I am tickled. Today, I got a letter from dear Dot Heldon and a posting from my granddaughter, Karen. I am, as Kerry says, over the moon with happiness.

Dot's letter was balm to my soul, written large enough that I could actually read it. Oh, that felt good to actually READ something. It was great to share news of ancient aches and to hear about her grandchildren. I miss her so very much. Having her letter with me in the living room somehow made Australia seem a little closer.

Then, just a few minutes ago, a posting appeared from Karen, the 2nd within a day. I practically bounced out of my chair when Elsa brought it up and read it to me. It is amazing living in an age when friends across the sea - and another sea and another sea - are so close by in spirit. I am attaching what Karen sent, which I hope you will like as much as this doting Nan did.

~ No man/woman is worth your tears and the only one who is, will never make you cry.

~ If you love someone, put their name in a circle, instead of a heart, because hearts can break, but circles go on forever.

~ Everyone hears what you say. Friends listen to what you say. Best friends listen to what you don't say.

~ If all my friends were to jump off a bridge, I wouldn't jump with them, I'd be at the bottom to catch them.

~ Don't frown, because you never know who's falling in love with your smile!

~ “If you judge people, you have no time to love them" ~Mother Teresa

~ "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle." ~Plato

~ It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone and a day to love someone - but it takes a lifetime to forget someone."

~ Enthusiasm is contagious. You could start an epidemic!

~ Yesterday is the past, tomorrow is the future. Today is a gift, that is why we call it the present.

The note closed by asking everyone who received the note to “pay it forward” to everyone they will never forget and send it back to the person who sent it to them too, just to show them that they‘ll never be forgotten.

Karen - you know your Nan will never forget you!

Love and hugs to all my near and dear - Nan Lockhart


Subj: What a day it has been
Date: Mon Sep 18 07:44:33 EDT 2000

What a rare mood I'm in! It was a wonderful Sunday. The morning was quiet, with Elsa at church, then post-church breakfast with friends, and John sleeping upstairs. The afternoon bustled.

Five or six of the Girls School freshmen moms came by in the afternoon for the fourth of five workshops Elsa had for making freshmen "memory boxes" which the moms will present to their daughters at a Cairnwood tea on the 24th. There was so much energy in the house as moms picked up where they had left last week or got started for the first time.

I saw young women I had not seen for a many years - like Kim Adams and Mary Van Zyverden - and met new ones, like Jamie Rose and Valerie Lehman. I could not see them, they were out in the dining room and I was in the kitchen, but I could hear them, all having what sounded like a good time. One of the women talked about how she had dreaded this project and how happy she was to be having such a good time.

The local women's alumni group sponsors this event celebrating the freshmen girls - or, as they are called on the invitation, freshmen women (!) - as they enter the Academy of the New Church. The tea is always a lovely time. I hope to go again this year. When the guests enter the entry hall at Cairnwood - a beautiful mansion that is now rented for special occasions but was first the home of John Pitcairn, then Raymond Pitcairn, and finally Willard & Gay Pendleton when he was Bishop - the first thing they see is a long table displaying all of the 8 1/" x 5" boxes, each one designed and decorated for a freshman girl by her Mom or a relative or loved one. A delicious tea is served in what was the library, followed by a presentation in the exquisite entry room.

Gay was an honored guest at the tea when she was alive and was able to go at least once. She was so happy to see Cairnwood being used for such a wonderful moment in time. Hearing the women working on their boxes made me think of her. She was a great woman and good friend.

After the last woman headed out the door, I announced I was ready for my nap (a bit late at 5:30). Elsa said she had hoped to take me past the Assembly Hall so I could see it as it is taken down to make room for the Mitchell Performing Arts Center.

I was a tired chick-a-biddy but I am glad I did. It will matter that I saw it when it was just beginning to be taken down, when there were some parts of the walls missing, but most still in place, and to see the huge Palladian (right?) wind wistfully and beautifully outlined. It was good to have a chance to say goodbye to what feels like an old friend.

I remember when the Assembly Hall was built, in 1931. I remember Andy Klein standing up in a meeting and lambasting the powers-that-be for dragging their heels for so long building something that had been needed for many years. By the time it was finally started, contributions were few and far between due to the depression.

There are so many memories associated with the Assembly Hall. ANC basketball games, dances, operettas and plays, Assemblies, blood drives, voting, wedding receptions. I remember when, before the Field House was built in the late '50s, it was where the Lions got ready for football games on the old football field. Driving past, I especially remembered graduations, with sugar cookies and punch served afterward. It felt good feeling the happy memories and remembering the happy times.

Many friends I have not thought of for years came to mind as we drove around the building, set against a vivid blue late afternoon sky. We came across some current ones as we looped around the back - Carol and Justine Brannon and Gail Cooper. We shared thoughts about the Assembly Hall. The window panes were out along the back of the building, the emptiness covered with plywood, and some of the stones knocked out underneath the window sills. Gail said if I got out of the car, I could look straight through to the sky of the empty back window. I took her word for it.

The memory I think I will hold is the look of that back window, which in spite of having glass gone and the top of the wall above it knocked out, looked elegant. I am glad of the chance to see that.

We drove around the cathedral so that I could see the flowers, which have never in my memory been so glorious. It was wonderful.

Swinging past the college toward Childs Hall, Elsa suddenly stopped the car and backed up, driving into the college parking lot. I could not figure out for the life of me what she was doing, then saw - Aileen King Synnesvedt (Frats' sister, not his daughter) and two other women were out walking. It was the second time we have met Aileen while she was out walking. I asked the woman in the middle to take off her sunglasses (I cannot recognize people through sunglasses) and lo and behold it was Marge Merrill Rose. I got to meet the third woman, who was Ginny Latta. It was wonderful to talk to them.

We returned to College Drive, nipping past a female runner. Out on Buck Road, Elsa pulled over - again - so I could talk to Bob and Laurie Klein who were out walking.

I admire how Elsa can recognize people way in the distance when she is driving and can recognize people through windshields. That has always been difficult for me.

We did one last pull over before heading home. Elsa baffled me when she pulled into the driveway across from what I call the Junge compound and just waited. The female runner we had driven past at the college pulled up along side and turned out to be Mary Jane Bruser Junge. What was surprising was that Mary Jane lives in California. It turns out her son broke his leg (playing football?) and needs to have it set, so she and Bergen (who has already headed home) came east to see how he is doing. It was such a surprise.

The evening ended up with Elsa making a "blessing box" for me to give Leanne Mahy, who hopefully is still at Sandstroms' today. Elsa decorated the little box, then I wrote out in my own scraggly fist the individual blessings - health, wisdom, love, peace, community, and so on - which she cut up, scrolled and put in the box. It was a nice way to end the day, with blessings for someone I love.

It was a wonderful Sunday. As I headed up the wooden hill, there really was a smile on my face for the whole human race. It was a happy day.

Love to one & all - Katharine Reynolds Lockhart, ANC Class of '28

reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Katharine Reynolds Lockhart's birth

Thursday, September 16, 2010

BEAUTY RICH and RARE 09/16/00

Subj: Beauty Rich and Rare
Date: Sat Sep 16 22:07:26 EDT 2000

Today was special, special in ways I could not have imagined when I woke up this morning.

First, I had a surprise visitor - Leanne Mahy from Australia. My goodness, I have known Leanne every since she was a little girl and now, here was this young woman sitting just a hug away, talking about going to "uni" and taking Technology with a minor in Religion.

I cannot describe my feelings - or my fear that Elsa, who was out running errands, would miss meeting Leanne. She has heard a lot about Leanne over the years and vice versa. I was relieved when the front door opened and it was Schatzi. She was surprised and tickled to meet Leanne. Elsa knew Leanne was in the States and that she hoped to get down to Bryn Athyn and stay with the Sandstroms and here she was, sitting as right as rain in our living room.

We had a lovely, lovely visit and Leanne had Lyn-Del Sandstrom, who played her chauffeur, take some pictures.

I was so happy to see Leanne walk in the door and so sad to see her leave. I still cannot believe it - Leanne was in my living room this afternoon. I got to hug her. Hugging her, I felt like I was somehow hugging Karen and Kimberly and Carolyn and all the other Down Under young lasses dear to my heart.

Before supper, Elsa helped me downstairs to watch the parade of athletes into Stadium Australia (my, that is an impressive place) and the opening of the 27th Olympiad. Oh my, to watch the US team marching in to the "Stars & Stripes Forever" then to see Team Australia - my heart was full to bursting. Then to watch the last leg of the torch relay, run by all women - it just overflowed.

Elsa was weepy with emotion - she is sentimental and there are so many people she loves in Australia - but I did not get teary, not even when Cathy Freeman walked across the reflecting pool with the waterfall behind it and lit a ring of fire and that incredible crown of flame rose and rose and rose. I was overwhelmed with awe, but was not even misty eyed, just utterly utterly amazed.

Then Elsa reran it to the beginning and played the part where they sang "Advance, Australia Fair."

That tore it.

Tears flowed, through a big smile. It took everything in my heart and enlarged it and swept me away with so many thoughts and feelings and memories.

Elsa heard a woman singing the national anthem in a beautiful soprano, but in my mind I was half a world and many years away, hearing a group of children breaking into it spontaneously at a church camp near Loftus, NSW. I will always see their faces and hear their voices whenever I hear "Advance, Australia Fair." If you go to my memorial celebration, whenever that may be, and you hear them play "Advance, Australia Fair" - as I have requested - think not of me, but of those young children breaking out into song.

Blessings on you all - Nan/Ma Lockhart

Subj: Hold a prayer
Date: Sat Sep 16 22:13:55 EDT 2000
Hold a prayer and a caring thought in your heart for International Olympic Committee President Juan Antonio Samaranch, whose wife died while he as on his way from Sydney to her bedside in Spain. Who could have guessed when he opened the Games with such grace and a jaunty "G'day Sydney!" that he had anything other than the Olympics on his mind. That was grace under pressure.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Nan/Ma Lockhart's birth

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


Subj: “Australia, Sydney – we did it!”
Date: Thu Sep 14 22:49:41 EDT 2000

On the other side of the world, right now - at this moment! - Australians are dreaming about the 16/09 opening day of the Olympics.

As you read this, from Sydney to Perth athletes from around the globe are deep into their slumbers, dreaming of being the swiftest,highest, strongest.

My Sydney; Australia, my 2nd country. I am proud, so proud.

It all seems amazing to this Grammie.

Listening to Elsa read yesterday's Sydney Morning Herald articles about the Opera House and the Coat Hanger, Bondi Beach, The Rocks, George Street - we were both in tears, and she has never even been there.

I could see the online pictures (big regret - Elsa's printer has jammed cartridges, so we cannot print out any). Reading one caption brought and brings tears to my eyes - "from Coogee to Bondi" described part of the torch relay. Dear Coogee.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Grammie Kay's birth

Monday, September 13, 2010


Date: Wed, 13 Sep 2000 17:31:43 EDT
Subject: Putting my foot in it

My goodness, I did not intend to cast any of my children in a poor light, which is what I seem to have done in my last posting.

It is important to me, as a person and a Mom, to recognize my children as the individuals they are, each with their own communication style. While Elsa is usually effusively verbal, the rest of us surviving Lockharts – even Mike, in many ways - are what is called non-verbal; we get and send our most important messages without words, through tone and what is called body language. I don’t really understand it and it still confuses the daylights out of me, but I realize is how we connect, or don’t.

I've learned over the years that with my three oldest (and, yes, with me), less is more and that a message received sideways, as one young friend described it, can be received more easily than one addressed head on.

Does this sound as confusing to you as it does to me? You should be inside my head, a cobwebby place at the moment.

The bottom line, as they say, is that my kids love me. They know I know, which is what counts.

Love to all, a poorly worded but very loving MUM

reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Mum's birth

Sunday, September 12, 2010

2 DAYS TO GO 09/12/00

Subj: 2 days to go
Date: Tue Sep 12 21:04:36 EDT 2000

It was wonderful talking to Mike today (he and Kerry have been silent as clams for the past few month). What joy it was to hear the excitement in his voice about the Games and seeing the torch. Mike, Kerry and Karen went to a friend’s house to watch. Mike had to go to work, but Kerry and Karen were able to stay for what sounded like a bang-up breakfast. The torch and breakfast - sounds like a great combination to this Gramster.

It is really happening!

I remember when Sydney put in the bid and how the city celebrated when it was named. This is a time that this sometime Australian will never ever forget.

To all the organizers, volunteers & athletes - good on ya, mates!

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Mom's birth

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

WINNIE 09/08/00

Subj: Winnie
Date: Fri Sep 8 22:03:02 EDT 2000

Winnie died. The phone call came today. Ivan Smith called, telling me she had gone, just about a year after her husband.

It was Winnie that I was talking about last night. It really shook me up, what happened yesterday. I found myself looking for the word to describe how I felt, but finally had to accept that I do not have words to describe the feelings. I do know that I was disturbed by the strangeness of the experience. I was frightened when I went to bed, although I would not admit it.

In the night, I awoke with chilled feet, even though they were covered with a cotton flannel sheet, a North Star wool blanket, and my warm red robe. I woke up Elsa & John around 3:00 a.m., not because I had to pay a visit to Lamb but because I needed to assure myself that I could still stand. I feared that my circulation had stopped.

I do not know how to explain this, but it felt as if the aura around me was somehow unsettled. I was glad when morning light dawned.

I will miss Winnie. Another of my compatriots gone on before. My circle of contemporaries continues to shrink, like my bones.

I have known Winnie, who was 88, since the early 1930s. I wonder what it was about Winnie that drew my spirit to hers as she was preparing to exit this world? Have any of you had unusual experiences with people so close to death? I find myself wondering.

Love to all my dear friends & loved ones - Gocky

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Gocky's birth

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


Subj: Upset and awestruck
Date: Thu Sep 7 23:35:34 EDT 2000

When John & Elsa got home from their weekly communications coaching session, John headed up to his studio and Elsa settled down on the couch to talk with me. As we talked, she immediately noticed that I was on edge and that I had what she described as a frailness of speech. It had been an unusual, a not-exactly-distressing-but-sort-of-it-was evening.

This morning and this afternoon, my mind went time and again to a friend I have not hobnobbed with for many years. It was not that we avoided each other; our paths just did not cross as they once did. I found myself thinking about her so much, I actually called her daughter to hear how she is and left a message letting her know how much I wanted to get news of her mother.

This evening, after John and Elsa had left, the phone rang. It was a daughter-of-my-heart, Leslie Adams, asking for Elsa. I explained to her that she and John were out for the evening and would she like me to have Elsa call her back.

No, she replied, she was on duty (she is a nurse) and unreachable for in-coming calls. "Actually, it was you I wanted to talk to," she said. Then she asked if I knew a certain person.

It was the very friend I had called about that afternoon.

She was at the nursing home and, Leslie broke it to me, she was dying. I was in shock, over my friend's condition but even more over the entire turn of events. We talked for a bit, then she rang off.

It still has me feeling shaken. My behavior earlier today was unlike me, first to be so concerned and then to actually call and make a bother of myself. Then, to get a call from someone with no reason to think that I know her patient.

I am heading to bed in awe and wonder, with prayers for my friend and gratitude for the opportunity to think about her and hold her in my heart while she is still with us. A gift from the Lord is how it feels. This dear woman was so kind to me during some of my darkest days. I am grateful to be aware and to direct loving thoughts to her and her family as she moves through what Leslie described as "transition," toward the brightest and most beautiful Light.

Love to my dear friends from a less upset and still awed
~ Grammie Kay ~

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, on by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, on the 05/14 centenary of Grammie Kay's birth

Monday, September 6, 2010


Subj: Advance, Australia Fair!
Date: Wed Sep 6 22:35:57 EDT 2000

Between the Olympics and Donna Heldon's wedding, my heart and mind seems as much with my loved ones Down Under as with the "Yanks" here at home. (To Australians, all Americans - whether from Back Bay Boston or the back hills of the Appalachians - are Yanks.)

What do I love and miss the most about my home away from home? Of course, the people. They are so hospitable and as open as the Out Back. They are bold in what they say, no shrinking violets. There is a spirit about them that is hard to describe, friendly with an intentional edge. They have a special energy about them that is so real I could feel it.

I remember colors, all sorts of colors. From the stunning flowers to the exotic birds to the luscious fruits to the blue of sky and water. When I think of beautiful colors, I think of Rhonda Hall and the beautiful dresses she wore with their wonderful colors.

It is impossible to describe the glorious fruits I enjoyed on my stays, especially my beloved mangoes. Oh, to enjoy a perfectly ripe, practically just picked mango. We get them at the supermarkets now, but they are not the same, not by a long shot.

And the fish, so many wonderful types. My favorite fish of all time is barramundi. What I would give for a bite of barramundi right now.

Then there is the water. I am a water baby, as my family knows, and it was heaven to be so close to the water. I drew strength just being so near.

Best of all, of course, were my friends and family. My times with Mike & Kerry and Scott & Karen are happy memories. I enjoyed getting to know Kerry's family, especially Bryan. Oh, yes, I like Bryan very much. As for the people in our church society, I wanted to pack them up and take them home with me, especially dear Laurel Brettel.

I am on the other side of the world, but for the next few weeks, my heart will be in Australia, celebrating with the Heldons and whooping it up with the people cheering on the Olympians. Just writing this, I am smiling and so very happy.

A special "Good on ya, mate!" to Donna & Jason and her family – Grandma Lockhart

reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Grandma Lockhart's birth

Sunday, September 5, 2010


Subj: the torch and a town I love so well
Date: Tue Sep 5 07:31:46 EDT 2000

Now, it's really getting exciting - Mike & Kerry and Karen live in Hurstville and it is where our General Church society is located. I am so happy and proud.

Torch Schedule - Tuesday, September 12: Kurnell to Parramatta 4.35am Kurnell; 5.05 Cronulla; 6.53 >>>>>>> HURSTVILLE <<<<<<<; 9.01 Lakemba; 9.59 Condell Park; 10.50 Milperra; 13.26 Liverpool lunch celebration; 15.01 Bonnyrigg; 16.09 Fairfield; 17.56 Merrylands; 18.57 Parramatta.Lunch celebration: Woodward Park, cnr Hume Highway & Hoxton Park Road, Liverpool; Evening celebration: Parramatta Regional Park Macquarie Street entrance), Parramatta, and includes a 1,000-piece choir singing in 20 languages in celebration of the regions cultural diversity as well as local and international cultural dance troupes.

Wednesday, September 13: Westmead to Gladesville 4.35am Westmead; 6.57 Mt Druitt; 8.50 Blacktown; 11.06 Castle Hill; 12.29 Pennant Hills lunch celebration; 13.53 Wahroonga; 15.05 Gordon; 15.58 Macquarie University; 16.45 Epping; 17.53 Ryde; 18.21 Hunters Hill; 18.57 Gladesville. Lunch celebration: Pennant Hills Park, Brittania & Cecil Avenues, Pennant Hills. Hornsby will showcase its "Bushland Shire" in an all day festival. The torch will enter the park under a natural eucalypt archway housing real koalas, the Bushland mascot, from Koala Park. Performers will include the locally based marching band, the Golden Kangaroos, 200 children singing the national anthem, champion Australian bush poet Milton Taylor, bush band Reel Matilda and indigenous performer Christine Anu. Evening celebration: Bedlam Bay Park, Hunters Hill. The Hunter's Hill celebration will start at 4pm with a number of performances from local schools, including an opening by the Ryde Schools Spectacular and community performance group. It will end about 8pm with a fireworks display from a barge moored in Bedlam Bay.

Subj: I stand (run?) corrected
Date: Wed Sep 6 22:43:14 EDT 2000
I jumped the gun. The torch will be in Hurstville - home of the Clanlocks and sometimes Kay Lockhart - NEXT Tuesday. Oops.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Nan's birth

Friday, September 3, 2010

next reposting - SEPTEMBER 5th!!

Mom, who usually wrote effortless, was always challenged when it came to writing about things closest to her heart. Which helps explain why she shared no memories of my 09/03/89 wedding.

Her next post was 09/05/00, so ours will be, too! Have a great Labor Day weekend - back on Sunday.

~ DEEV ~

Thursday, September 2, 2010


Subj: Whiskey Sours and Sweet Memories
Date: 4/19/01 10:32:03 PM Eastern Daylight Time

Tonight, I asked Elsa if she would make me a Hot Turkey Leg (Wild Turkey and mulled cider). We do not have any mulled cider, so she asked if I would like a Whiskey Sour.

My word, it has been a long time since I have sipped a sour. Elsa made it just the way I like it - all lovely and foamy, over crushed ice, in a cocktail glass with sugar-frosted rim. It tasted very good, it had a nice zip to it. It packed a small wallop - I certainly felt more relaxed after I drank it.

Sipping that drink took me back many years, to memories of when Marjorie (Grandma) Rose and Cornelia Stroh and other older ladies gathered together before Friday Supper for cocktails and nibblings.

It is hard to believe that I can only remember Cornelia and Marjorie - I know there were at least three other women. No memory - maybe they will come to me tonight as I am nodding off. I do know that Sylvia Carlton would always be part of the group if she was visiting Bryn Athyn. We always enjoyed hearing about her globe-trotting travels. We sure did.

We enjoyed each other's company so much, we would start looking forward to the next get together practically as soon as we were on our way to Friday Supper.

I always enjoyed the gatherings, whether they were at Marjorie's house, or Cornelia's apartment on Rose Lane, or our house - Oliver Smith's stained glass studio on Woodland Road. If I close my eyes, I can remember the high times we had. No one could be bored around Marjorie and Cornelia.

They kept the conversation jumping. We always started out the evening lifting our glasses while Marjorie gave the toast - "Here's to the Church - all else is bosh."

Even as it was happening, week after week, I knew it was special and appreciated being part of the fun. It was always a delight to go to either lady's home.

In the spring, summer and fall, Marjorie's house was surrounded by beautiful flowers - it felt like heaven walking down the path to the front door. Her living room always fell cozy.

For some reason, Cornelia's apartment on Rose Lane - which was built for an artist, Thorsten Sigstedt - felt like it belonged in Manhattan, there was just a wonderful air of art and sophistication to the living space. Perhaps I was partially influenced by the fact that Cornelia resembled the First Lady of American Theater, Helen Hayes, although Cornelia was forever irritated by the comparison. Art, quiet sophistication and a suggestion of theater - yes, that would bring Manhattan to mind, even in the heart of Bryn Athyn.

This might sound like a broken record (would today's youngsters understand that phrase?), but one of the hardest things about growing older and older is losing so many friends.

I consider myself lucky - and I know that I have said this before but it bears repeating - that as my circle of lifelong friends has thinned out, my circle of newer friends has increased, especially my dear online loved ones. You keep my life hopping.

Week after week, I know that being able to reach out to you (through Faithful Scribe's fingertips) is special and I love still being part of the fun. You help keep away the haunting specter of loneliness and you keep this Ancient One young.

Marjorie and Cornelia would approve.

Love - Kay

a bonus reposting - a shout-out, if you will, to Grandma Rose - by Kay's faithful scribe, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, this time to celebrate Grandma & Cornelia, Sylvia & Viola (one of the group slipping Mom's mind), and the one & only Grammie Kay

WHAT A DAY IT WAS... 09/02/00

Subj: What a day it was, eleven years ago
Date: Sat Sep 2 22:59:04 EDT 2000

Another hot and steamy day today. It is such different weather from what we had eleven years ago. Of course, even if it had been as uncomfortable as this weather, I might not have noticed.

The day before John & Elsa's wedding paired a lot of events with a relaxed attitude. Elsa had a definite mental image of what she wanted her wedding to be like - like Meg & John’s, in Little Women - and Saturday, September 2, 1989 reflected it.

I remember months before, when Elsa got a letter from Peggy soon after she and John had announced their engagement. I was napping in my room; she sat down to read it to me. She had hoped Peggy and Jack could make it to the wedding, but was prepared to understand if they could not.

"They're coming!" she yelped.

Continuing to read, she practically leapt out of her chair. "And Jim and Renee are coming!!!"

And a few seconds later, "And so is Karen!!!!"

I threw off the covers & jumped up, then we did a little dance of joy around the bedroom, we were both so stunned and excited.

All of the Peddicords came and all of the Ripleys, even David. The Ripleys had not seen Karen Peddicord Jackson, who lives in Nevada, for many many moons and ended up flying on the same plane all the way from San Francisco without any of them realizing they were in the same cabin with a Reynolds clan cousin.

Saturday was filled with family and friends and magical moments. We had a smile-filled breakfast with the Peddicords. Jim & Renee and their girls and Karen were all staying at the nearby Marriott, but Jack & Peggy were camped out right across the street from our house, at Donnette and Garth Glenn's (they gave us the use of the hall since they were at the shore that weekend).

Elsa put the finishing touches on the nibblings and sippings she would serve that afternoon at a tea honoring her bridesmaids and all the women who had done so much work on her wedding. She was happy and calm. She also put the finishing touches on the Groomsmen's Party that would be held at the same time across the street. The bride was a busy lady.

I cannot remember a single thing about the rehearsal. I know I was there, but not a thing comes to mind.

After the rehearsal came the tea party and I do remember a lot about that. So many women and, of course, her four bridesmaids - Whitney, who was her maid of honor: Karen, who was her senior bridesmaid; Mackenzie Pitcairn, who's been dear to our hearts since she was born; and Jamie Reeves, one of the children Elsa "baby watched". Not a one was from Bryn Athyn, PA - Whitney was in her 2nd year at Barnard in NYC, Karen hailed from Australia, Mackenzie was living in Iowa and Jamie was just "down the street" a piece in Jenkintown.

It was a happy, humming group that gathered afterward at our house.

Elsa had ordered a beautiful cake from her favorite bakery - Bredenbeck's in Chestnut Hill. Peter, who did an incredible job of being everywhere he needed to be plus a few places more, picked up the cake that morning along with a generous assortment of wedding day breakfast goodies the bride had ordered from Rolling in Dough at the Farmer's Market.

It was a really beautiful cake. Elsa had the four girls put their hands on hers to cut the first piece, which she gave to yours truly. Each of the girls were given a book - Ophelia's World, A Little Princess, A Secret Garden and Corgiville Fair - and a box, each picked out for each girl. Each woman was given a Christmas ornament that Elsa had spent hours picking out, tailoring each gift to its recipient.

Even all these years later, I still feel gypped that while I took an after-party nap, Peggy, Karen and Elsa hightailed it across the street to the men's party and had a high old time.

Supper was take out - a Chinese banquet. John went to pick it up from China Bowl in Rockledge and Pam opted to go with him, to get a better idea of this fellow.

While they were gone, the rest of us watched a video made earlier that summer of Peggy & Jack's 40th (I think it was their 40th) surprise anniversary party out in Missouri. The guests were squirreled away out of their sight and the night before the party, we all gathered for steamed crabs which friends from Baltimore had flown out. The video said it all - while everyone around me was talking back and forth, there I was, happily picking my way through a great heap of crab. It was so much fun to watch the video with the whole family around, the Peddicords and myself giving a running commentary.

One of my all-time favorite photos was taken by Elsa that evening. It is of Peter, Peggy and I, dishing out the Chinese food and laughing with complete happiness. It is a marvelous picture and captures the feeling of the evening.

I almost forgot that Robert and Sue Smith, our neighbors, had us over earlier in the evening for cocktails. The whole of "Smithville" was in fine fettle. I called our cluster of abodes "Smithville" because Julie & Eunice Smith, Willie Smith, Phil & Mina Smith, and "Po" & Sue all shared our driveway. Smithville indeed.

Eleven years later, am still smiling at the memory of so much love and easy going happiness. That time felt and feels like it was other worldly, a gift to us all from a heavenly Host. Everyone made it happen and everyone seemed touched by its beauty and spiritual grace. I was, and am, blessed to have been part of it.

I remember Lockharts and Peddicords and one Murphy lolling around the living room that night, having a high old time. John's best man was there, too. It was another happy, happy day - and the best was yet to come.

Am off to what I am sure will be happy slumbers - Mrs. Raymond Lewis Lockhart

next posting - September 6 (doing the next few weeks on the dates Mom wrote them)

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Mrs. Raymond Lewis Lockhart's birth