significant birthday cake — with Roger Middleton

In answer to this month's question "What always reminds you of Roger Middleton?", I would say that all of the following people and places and things would be included:  Mom; Aunt Janice and Uncle Hieb; Grandma Dorothy; Grampa Lee; Donald (Middleton); The Graefs; Granny; Salem, Oregon; Waseca, Minnesota; Hackettstown, New Jersey; Lincoln City, Oregon; Quincy, Massachusetts; baseball; music/trumpets/music writing and arranging/keyboards/big bands and jazz and swing music/classical music/opera/Stan Kenton/Perry Como/Doc Severinson/Mitch Miller/Elliott Lawrence/Broadway shows/the Steel Pier; the U. S. Air Force/The Airmen of Note; fishing/the sea/maritime activities; mountain climbing/hiking/camping; farms/gardening; hazelnuts/filberts; hops; winesap and Gravenstein apples; milking cows/churning butter; bailing hay; cooking or eating smelts/flank steak/steak au poivre/chicken friccassee/hash brown or home fried potatoes/corned or roast beef hash/salmon or salmon salad or smoked salmon; the University of Oregon/ University of Oregon pre-law degree and major; Willamette University; the Great Depression (of the 1930's, etc.); World War II; the Korean War; the ancestor of Dad's who fought for the Union in the Civil War; the old radio show "The Shadow"; the old weekend movies of "Buck Rogers" and maybe "Flash Gordon"; the Pendleton Roundup; Pendleton shirts; and the Chemeketa Club.

playing Ticket to Ride in person! — with Brian Middleton

Roger at Brian's Sacra concert

I believe that, especially considering certain aspects of his own childhood, but even regardless and in general, Dad was basically a very kind and compassionate person. I think I probably witnessed quite a few acts of kindness on his part over the years, but the one that probably affected me the most, and basically, together with help later from mental health professionals, saved my life, was when I had a certain sort of nervous breakdown at Mom's and his house in Lincoln City in early 1995, and he, very probably at great personal risk to himself, helped me up the stairs and into bed to rest and eventually recuperate.

He and Mom argued occasionally, but never severely, and I never saw or heard him even yell or scream at her, nor her at him.  Although he always held down at least one or two jobs at any given time, he always made time in his schedule to teach me some of the important things in life--like taking everything in moderation, not dwelling too much on myself, and trying my best, even if I didn't succeed.  He also, in addition to Grampy and others, taught me how to play sports like baseball and football, and to fish, and to swim, as well as giving me, together with Mom and my brother and others, an appreciation for good music.  I remember that he and Mom took us (or me) on fishing trips many times, including to French River, Ontario, and just North of Hull at a fishing camp in Quebec, deep-sea fishing in the gulf stream off of Cape Hatteras, twice off the Jersey shore, and quite a few times bottom fishing for lingcod and rockfish (or even for crab once) just off of the Oregon Coast out of either Newport or Depoe Bay.  He had cancer four times beginning in the mid-1970's, and he fought it off stoically each time.  And he and Mom told me the Golden Rule and other religious and humanistic and ethical concepts, and never hesitated to be understanding or show their love.  Although I gave him plenty of reasons throughout much of my life, overall, to be profoundly ashamed of me, he told me at least a few times in the last bunch of years that he was proud of me, and the improvement I was starting to show.  I know that I am proud of him, and that I will never forget either of them.

Dear Family of my Dear Friend Roger. I will really miss his presence in my life. We met in the Airforce "Airmen of Note" and continued our musical life when he came on the New York scene, and helped each other live that portion of our lives as gracefully as possible. I was delighted when Brian and Roger turned up at my 90th birthday gathering and like to feel that we were comfortable in our continuing e-mail and occasional phone conversations. I will always remember his delightful sense of humor and uplifting friendship. Be gentle to your selves in your sorrow and Thank You for letting me know.

Sincerely, John Bova

Wishing Jeff, Brian and Alicia, Chris and Natalyn and all the cousins light hearts and joyful memories of this dear man -- my talented, wise, funny, and infinitely huggable Uncle Roger. XO

Roger with sister Janice and brother-in-law Vern Hiebert

Roger with his sister, Janice

Roger & Adam sharing music

Kelp Horn

Playing games

Uncle Roger, Aunt Margie and little David Hiebert

Grump at Dim Sum

Grump playing Ticket to Ride

Grump playing the piano

Grump and Chris on Grump’s 87th birthday

Christmas in Oregon

Grump and Brian at the piano (July 2018)

Gram and Grump at a Halloween party on their trip to MA

At the Oregon Coast Aquarium

From Bob Graef
Maybe not the most fun, but certainly among the most bizarre: Roger and I were slated to go on a mountaineering trip with the Chemeketans Sunday morning. Saturday night Roger and four friends took me with them to the Stayton Bean Festival where one of our group, a high school state wrestling champ, took on the fair's professional wrestler - $25 if he stayed un-pinned for 3 minutes. Our guy almost pinned the pro, collected the money, spent part of it on a case of Miller High Life, which we consumed.
Still a bit tipsy on the way home, Rog and I asked to be let off at 4 corners, a long sobering walk from Grannie's home. It was nearing midnight when when a swarm of motorcyclists brushed us toward the ditch - thus offended, we shouted our best obscenities at them, whereupon they braked and roared back to discuss the reasons for our comments. Or not.
So we high-tailed far enough into waist-high hay to find cover and bellied down. They left. We walked on to Grannie's where Roger retrieved a flashlight from the barn to help spot nightcrawlers - fishing in Scott Lake was part of the plan and, as junior members of the expedition, we had been put on worm procurement duty. We had collected a bumper crop of fat words by the time Grannie, wakened by the light, barefooted out to see what was going on, sniffed our breaths, and unleashed her wrath. As with exploding volcanoes or major earthquakes, most of the violence was expended then and there. We were picked up for the campout early in the morning so by the time our week away was finished, the storm had quieted.

Roger was something over a year my senior so from our childhood, I always looked up to him, and with reason. I played trumpet because of him and still did, though not as well. We climbed mountains with the Chemeketans, roamed ocean beaches, and picked beans with the WWII Crop Corps.

As the only living link with Roger's youth, I wish I were there to share stories of those days with you. What I can do is try to paste a clip from a memoire here. Let's see if that works. It opens with a few words about our grandmother, Grannie:
Granny was a stern divorcee of about fifty-five at the time, which to me, meant ancient. And though she scared the heck out of me, I’ve grown to realize that, in her way, she invested a lot of time, care, and love in her grandchildren. Granny and her other daughter, Mom’s sister Dorothy, were divorced from men Granny spoke of as spawn of the devil. Dorothy and her kids, my cousins, Janice and Roger, shared Granny’s home. Roger was two years older than me, and Janice two years older than Roger. When Roger, never Janice, messed up, Granny twisted his ear and said, “If you keep that up, you’ll turn out just like your father.”
Many years later, I tracked his father down. Don Middleton was retired in Port Orchard, Washington, after a civil service career with the Navy. Don married again and raised three daughters. Having been discharged from the Navy near the beginning of WWI, he went to work in the Bremerton shipyards, the place of his discharge. Without benefit of classroom training, he became a licensed marine architect, marine propulsion engineer, and a third engineering specialty I can’t recall. Three related engineering certificates qualified Don to be a General Engineer, a rating that allowed him to sign off on design and repair work. He became the U.S. Navy’s chief of sea trials for the Pacific. Two pictures on his mantle showed him with President Eisenhower and President Kennedy. I passed his address to Roger who visited him during Don’s last years. Roger said the visit changed him, that he felt “lightened.”
Somehow, Roger survived, even thrived. He became president of the student body at Salem High and became such an accomplished trumpet player that he was the only high school student to play in the Salem City Band. Soon he was working weekend jobs at dance halls. The dance-hall thing would have been scuttled by Granny for moral reasons if Roger hadn’t been pulling down enough money to build a college fund. He was my hero and such an influence that when a chance arose for me to enroll in a beginners’ band, I took it. But that came later.

I wish our paths had crossed but that's not to be since Parkinsons keeps my wife, Evie, from traveling. If curious about our western branch the extended family, Amazon lists two insights in its book collection: Look under Graef, Ignorance; All you need to know about not-knowing, and Teachable Moments, a fictionalized account of events that took place in local schools in the 1980s and 90s. Most of my other stuff in out of print.

I called Roger now and then, and each time he gave me an earful about basking in your company and the accomplishments of your family. He was a good man, and possibly the only person I've known who could lean over the top of a spinet to show my brother, at the keyboard, how to play the bridge of Body and Soul, from his reverse position with both hands!

I know he will be missed, we only communicated via phone the past few years, we had sort of planned to see one another. I miss the chats with him.