appy Mother’s Day · Happy Mother’s Day and 90th Birthday! To more memories together! Love...
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HAVASU SUNDAY TODAY’S NEWS-HERALD Sunday, May 13, 2018 • 3B Killed in Havasu 5/24/15 red-light driver H appy Mother’s Day Your a Sweet reminder of all things that matter MOST! To Te Best MOM ever Casey Campbell LOVE, Teri Campbell & Debra Campbell Porte Happy Mothers Day and Birthday! Happy Mother’s Day Mom Love always from all your kids. Valdee, Bill, Pam, Paula, Pat & Penny Nanadoe You are the Best Mom & Grandma on this planet. I love you. -Rene Traceye Jones Happy Mother’s Day From Your AZ Mom MOM I love you Mom! Happy Mother’s Day! You are our #1 Mom. Mitzi, Genger & CR Eva Booth HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND HAPPY MOTHER’ S DAY YOU ARE LOVED! We love you to the moon and back. Happy Mother’s Day! From, Kadi & April Lucky 13! Happy Mother’s Day and 90th Birthday! To more memories together! Love Forever, Linda Blessed with the best. Sherrie, Doug, Mike & Families Happy Mother’s Day Happy Mother’s Day Mommy! Much Appreciation for you! Love you bunches! Your Baby Girl She told us to help ourselves to anything we wanted to eat or drink. Shirley Dopp, known by all as “host- ess with the mostess,” knew how to make people feel welcome. Never sit- ting down for long, she’d leap to her feet, serve drinks and snacks, offer cigarettes and distribute ashtrays to guests. Now, she couldn’t even get out of bed to go to the bathroom. My teenaged sister and brother and Dad also lived in the cabin, yet I have no memory of them that night— something I find puzzling. I served soda pop to my friends, who soon ran out of things to say to Mom. They grew uncomfortable standing over her bed and drifted into the kitchen, which connected to the living room. We made small talk among ourselves, forgetting my mother was lying alone in the next room. “Come in here so I can hear you,” she said. We returned to the living room and she asked us about our class- es. Mom loved people. Her conver- sations consisted of probing ques- tions designed to draw them out. She didn’t like talking about herself. She wanted the other person to do all the talking. That was Mom. After about 20 minutes, John looked at me and said, “We better get going.” He and Mercedes told Mom how nice it was to meet her and went out to the car. Then Kitty and I approached the bed. Mom reached out her blotched, skinny arm and pat- ted Kitty’s hand saying, “Take good care of my Buckaroo for me. Okay?” “Sure will, Mrs. Dopp,” Kitty said. She headed for the door, leaving me alone with Mom. “I know you like popcorn,” she said. “I want to give you the popcorn popper.” She directed me to a lower kitchen cabinet. I looked at all the shelves and the only thing I could find was the heating element for the popcorn popper. I brought it to the living room and held it up for her to see. “This is all that’s under there. I can’t use this without the rest of the parts.” “Take it anyway.” “But, Mom, it won’t work without the other parts.” “Go ahead and take it, please. I’ll send you the rest later.” John honked his horn outside, which agitated me. Patience was never a long suit for me anyway. Now, I was close to losing it. “I’ve got to go. They’re honking at me.” “Take the popcorn popper.” “It’s not a popcorn popper. It’s only the heating element.” “I want you to have it.” “Okay. I’ll take it,” I said as I made my getaway. “Aren’t you going to kiss me good- bye?” “Mom!” I started to say something else, then just shook my head, turned around and marched back to her bedside and kissed her goodbye. “I love you, son.” “I love you too, Mom.” Before I closed the front door behind me, I turned around to take a last look. Mom was lying on her side, her head turned toward me, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. That was the last time I saw her. For the next 10 years or so, every time I moved, I schlepped that use- less heating element — California, Ohio, Minnesota and South Dakota — maybe even Virginia. I never did get a kettle or lid for it, and it never popped a single kernel of corn. I kept it all those years because it reminded me of Mom and her last gift to me. One day, I looked at it and teared up. It made me so sad, so I threw it away. I guess that’s the day I realized that the heating element wasn’t the last gift Mom gave me after all. It was a lesson. Give what you have to give. It’s not the gift, it’s the act of giving from a heart full of love that makes something valuable. Thanks, Mom. Buck Dopp is a Lake Havasu City resident. Readers with a story to tell are invited to submit their writings to Today’s News-Herald’s “Your words” feature. Email submissions to pash- [email protected]. Avoid naming the file “passwords.” Call it “badmovies” or something innocuous. RESET AND REFRESH Some security experts recommend that you change your passwords frequently, though treat that advice with caution. When there’s a breach, it doesn’t matter whether that password is two weeks or two years old. And if you change passwords too often, you risk forgetting them and falling back on simpler, less-secure passwords. A BETTER SAFEGUARD You can ignore much of this advice if you just do one thing: Turn on two-factor authentication, which Twitter calls “login verification.” You’ll get a text with a code each time you try to log in from a new device or web browser. So even if hackers get your password, they can’t do much unless they have your phone — or some other way to intercept the code. Of course, this makes it even more important to protect your phone with a passcode, so that no else can get these texts if your phone is lost or stolen. — The Associated Press MOM’S GIFT CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1B y PASSWORD CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1B y Royal retreat of Windsor ready to party for Harry, Meghan ASSOCIATED PRESS WINDSOR, England — Few towns are as quint- essentially English as Windsor, the bucolic riv- erside locale where Prince Harry and American actress Meghan Markle will get married on May 19. And few towns are as pleasing when a warm spring sun bakes off the morning mist. Even the plump white swans on the Thames River seem relieved that the winter is over. Most of the swans belong to Queen Elizabeth II and must be counted each year by Her Majesty’s Swan Marker, a ritual that reflects the dominant role the Windsors play in the town whose name the royal family adopted as a surname a century ago. All roads seem to lead to Windsor Castle, a mag- nificent fortress perched high on a hill topped by the royal standard when the queen is in residence. It is here — a favored royal playground since William the Conqueror built the first structure in 1070 — that the royal wedding will take place. Harry, one of the least traditional young royals, has chosen the most tradi- tional of venues. Fevered preparations are underway: Many roads have been repaved, street signs are being repaint- ed, storefronts are decked out with life-size cutouts of Harry and Markle and shoppers are being lured by souvenirs of all kinds. Windsor is getting a bit of a makeover, just like the monarchy, which is rebranding itself with attention focused on the new, younger generation of princes as the 92-year- old queen slowly reduces her public duties. “Everything is now in place, we’re 99.9 percent of the way there,” said town councilor Phillip Bicknell, who expects more than 100,000 people on the wedding day if the weather is good. There’s already a party feel in Windsor. Tourists from around the world arrive daily by train and walk through the royal shopping arcade to the castle. No one, it seems, can resist the impulse to take a selfie in front of the castle. The royal wedding itself is a party on a grand scale, with 600 guests invited to the ceremony in St. George’s Chapel, another 2,640 invited to the cas- tle’s grounds, and tens of thousands more expected to throng the town’s nar- row streets hoping for a glimpse of the newlyweds. Security barriers are being put in place and an elaborate police deploy- ment plan is mapped out. Before the spate of extremist attacks on Britain last year, it was common to see some roy- als in the streets and in the park surrounding the town. When the queen was younger it wasn’t unusual to see her on horseback, walking through a park, or driving her Jaguar through the narrow streets.
Transcript of appy Mother’s Day · Happy Mother’s Day and 90th Birthday! To more memories together! Love...
HAVASU SUNDAYTODAY’S NEWS-HERALD Sunday, May 13, 2018 • 3B
Killed in Havasu 5/24/15 red-light driver
Happy Mother’s Day
Your a Sweet reminder of all things that matter MOST!
To The Best MOM ever Casey Campbell
LOVE,Teri Campbell & Debra Campbell Porte
Happy Mothers Day and Birthday! Happy Mother’s
Day MomLove always from
all your kids.
Valdee, Bill, Pam, Paula, Pat
& Penny
Nanadoe You are the Best
Mom & Grandma on this planet.
I love you.-Rene
Traceye JonesHappy
Mother’s Day
From Your AZ
Mom
MOM
I love you
Mom!
Happy Mother’s
Day!
You are our #1
Mom.
Mitzi, Genger
& CR
Eva BoothHAPPY BIRTHDAY
ANDHAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
YOU ARE LOVED!
We love you to the moon and back.
Happy Mother’s Day!
From,Kadi & April
Lucky 13!Happy Mother’s Day
and 90th Birthday!
To more memories
together!
Love Forever,
Linda
Blessed with the best.
Sherrie, Doug, Mike &
Families
Happy Mother’s Day
Happy Mother’s Day
Mommy!
Much Appreciation
for you!
Love you bunches!
Your Baby Girl
She told us to help ourselves to anything we wanted to eat or drink. Shirley Dopp, known by all as “host-ess with the mostess,” knew how to make people feel welcome. Never sit-ting down for long, she’d leap to her feet, serve drinks and snacks, offer cigarettes and distribute ashtrays to guests. Now, she couldn’t even get out of bed to go to the bathroom.
My teenaged sister and brother and Dad also lived in the cabin, yet I have no memory of them that night—something I find puzzling.
I served soda pop to my friends, who soon ran out of things to say to Mom. They grew uncomfortable standing over her bed and drifted into the kitchen, which connected to the living room. We made small talk among ourselves, forgetting my mother was lying alone in the next room.
“Come in here so I can hear you,” she said.
We returned to the living room and she asked us about our class-es. Mom loved people. Her conver-sations consisted of probing ques-tions designed to draw them out. She didn’t like talking about herself. She wanted the other person to do all the talking. That was Mom.
After about 20 minutes, John looked at me and said, “We better get going.” He and Mercedes told Mom how nice it was to meet her and went out to the car. Then Kitty and I approached the bed. Mom reached out her blotched, skinny arm and pat-ted Kitty’s hand saying, “Take good care of my Buckaroo for me. Okay?”
“Sure will, Mrs. Dopp,” Kitty said. She headed for the door, leaving me alone with Mom.
“I know you like popcorn,” she said. “I want to give you the popcorn popper.”
She directed me to a lower kitchen cabinet. I looked at all the shelves and the only thing I could find was the heating element for the popcorn popper. I brought it to the living room and held it up for her to see. “This is all that’s under there. I can’t use this without the rest of the parts.”
“Take it anyway.”“But, Mom, it won’t work without
the other parts.”“Go ahead and take it, please. I’ll
send you the rest later.”John honked his horn outside,
which agitated me. Patience was never a long suit for me anyway. Now, I was close to losing it.
“I’ve got to go. They’re honking at me.”
“Take the popcorn popper.”“It’s not a popcorn popper. It’s
only the heating element.”“I want you to have it.” “Okay. I’ll take it,” I said as I made
my getaway.“Aren’t you going to kiss me good-
bye?”“Mom!” I started to say something
else, then just shook my head, turned around and marched back to her bedside and kissed her goodbye.
“I love you, son.”“I love you too, Mom.”Before I closed the front door
behind me, I turned around to take a last look. Mom was lying on her side,
her head turned toward me, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. That was the last time I saw her.
For the next 10 years or so, every time I moved, I schlepped that use-less heating element — California, Ohio, Minnesota and South Dakota — maybe even Virginia. I never did get a kettle or lid for it, and it never popped a single kernel of corn. I kept it all those years because it reminded me of Mom and her last gift to me.
One day, I looked at it and teared up. It made me so sad, so I threw it away. I guess that’s the day I realized that the heating element wasn’t the last gift Mom gave me after all. It was a lesson. Give what you have to give. It’s not the gift, it’s the act of giving from a heart full of love that makes something valuable.
Thanks, Mom.Buck Dopp is a Lake Havasu City
resident.Readers with a story to tell are
invited to submit their writings to Today’s News-Herald’s “Your words” feature. Email submissions to [email protected].
Avoid naming the file “passwords.” Call it “badmovies” or something innocuous.
RESET AND REFRESH
Some security experts recommend that you change your passwords frequently, though treat that advice with caution. When there’s a breach, it doesn’t matter whether that password is two weeks or two years old. And if you change passwords too often, you risk forgetting them and falling back on simpler, less-secure passwords.
A BETTER SAFEGUARD
You can ignore much of this advice if you just do one thing: Turn on two-factor authentication, which Twitter calls “login verification.” You’ll get a text with a code each time you try to log in from a new device or web browser. So even if hackers get your password, they can’t do much unless they have your phone — or some other way to intercept the code.
Of course, this makes it even more important to protect your phone with a passcode, so that no else can get these texts if your phone is lost or stolen.
— The Associated Press
MOM’S GIFTCONTINUED FROM PAGE 1B
y
PASSWORDCONTINUED FROM PAGE 1B
yRoyal retreat of Windsor ready to party for Harry, MeghanASSOCIATED PRESS
WINDSOR, England — Few towns are as quint-essentially English as Windsor, the bucolic riv-erside locale where Prince Harry and American actress Meghan Markle will get married on May 19.
And few towns are as pleasing when a warm spring sun bakes off the morning mist. Even the plump white swans on the Thames River seem relieved that the winter is over.
Most of the swans belong to Queen Elizabeth II and must be counted each year by Her Majesty’s Swan Marker, a ritual that reflects the dominant role the Windsors play in the town whose name the royal family adopted as a surname a century ago.
All roads seem to lead to Windsor Castle, a mag-nificent fortress perched
high on a hill topped by the royal standard when the queen is in residence. It is here — a favored royal playground since William the Conqueror built the first structure in 1070 — that the royal wedding will take place.
Harry, one of the least traditional young royals, has chosen the most tradi-tional of venues.
Fevered preparations are underway: Many roads have been repaved, street signs are being repaint-ed, storefronts are decked out with life-size cutouts of Harry and Markle and shoppers are being lured by souvenirs of all kinds.
Windsor is getting a bit of a makeover, just like the monarchy, which is rebranding itself with attention focused on the new, younger generation of princes as the 92-year-old queen slowly reduces her public duties.
“Everything is now in
place, we’re 99.9 percent of the way there,” said town councilor Phillip Bicknell, who expects more than 100,000 people on the wedding day if the weather is good.
There’s already a party feel in Windsor. Tourists from around the world arrive daily by train and
walk through the royal shopping arcade to the castle.
No one, it seems, can resist the impulse to take a selfie in front of the castle.
The royal wedding itself is a party on a grand scale, with 600 guests invited to the ceremony in St. George’s Chapel, another
2,640 invited to the cas-tle’s grounds, and tens of thousands more expected to throng the town’s nar-row streets hoping for a glimpse of the newlyweds.
Security barriers are being put in place and an elaborate police deploy-ment plan is mapped out.
Before the spate of
extremist attacks on Britain last year, it was common to see some roy-als in the streets and in the park surrounding the town. When the queen was younger it wasn’t unusual to see her on horseback, walking through a park, or driving her Jaguar through the narrow streets.
