There Was Also Joy

Back in 1997, or closely thereabouts, Pam and I took a trip to France’s Loire region. We were living in Germany at the time for Pam’s military assignment, and we wanted to drive over to see another of France’s wine regions. We’d loved the wines we’d had from the Loire, and wanted to explore the area in person. At the time I was writing a regular column on food and wine on CompuServe’s Wine Forum. Yes, CompuServe. It was that long ago… Through online friends we were able to get appointments at a few great wineries in the region, including Baumard in Savennieres, Druet in Bourgueil, and Domain Huet in Vouvray. Huet has for decades arguably produced some of the world’s finest chenin blanc wines. For people who love what great chenin blanc can be, visiting the Domain is like a pilgrimage to Mecca. Well, except they don’t have wine at Mecca. But you get the idea. Pam and I arrived at Huet and found to our surprise our tour guide was none other than M. Gaston Huet, the son of founder...

Update:  Fixed all the missing images. Google and my blogging software weren't playing nicely! It’s Official. We’re one year into our new lives without Pam. As you can imagine, it’s quite hard to focus on anything other than simply surviving the holidays and the anniversary of The Event. (Yes, that’s how we’ve come to talk about it. Capital letters included.) We’ve been blessed with an incredible outpouring of support and love. From the GoFundMe campaign that’s helped pay for lawyers and doctors, to the constant messages, calls, notes, and simple positive thoughts that get sent our way—everything has been a blessing that’s helped us through an unbearable year. What I said last year when I broke the news of the awful event bears repeating: Go hug your loved ones. Life is short and unexpected things lie around every corner. Cherish those close to you, and make sure they know it. I don’t have words to express our gratitude. All I have space in my empty soul right now fo...

Back in 2000 Pam was selected to attend Air Command and Staff College (ACSC), one of the US Air Force’s officer training schools. ACSC is nearly mandatory if you want to advance past the rank of Major. I don’t know the selection rate for the school, but it was impressive to get in. We moved to Montgomery, Alabama, where the school’s run at Maxwell Air Force Base. Our daughter was five weeks old at the time of the move, so the nine or ten months at school were pretty tough on Pam: wake up, feed herself, feed Lydia, off to school, come home for lunch to feed Lydia, back to school, home, feed Lydia, do homework, collapse in bed. In between all that Pam did some amazing things during her time at ACSC. One of the most impressive was a paper she wrote on Poland’s efforts to modernize their military. Why the topic? Erm, her last name was WOLOSZ, folks. Polish genealogy nut. There you have it. She spent months working on this paper, and that work paid off: She got top honors for it, inc...

Pam and I spent four years living in the rural Bavarian countryside of Germany. She was working as a test director at a civilian aircraft maintenance facility just outside Ingolstadt, home of the Audi automobile plant. Bavaria was an amazing place to live. Great food, wonderful people, and a short drive to many wonderful areas. During our time in Germany we traveled extensively, driving the old, used Audi Coupe we bought into the ground. It’s a sad thing when the tow truck drivers at the German equivalent of AAA know you on a first-name basis… At the time I was writing an online wine and food column called Jim’s Kitchen for CompuServe’s Wine Forum. I focused in on pairing wine and food, and wrote about the various successes and failures. One year we decided to gather up some of our favorite recipes and interweave them with stories of some of our experiences. The end result: Unsere Vier Jahreszeiten in Deutchland , or, Our Four Years in Germany. The book went out to family and fr...

Pam and I met lots of friends during out time in Anchorage. A few knew of our romance before I left the USAF and we married. ( We’d had to keep things secret before that.) I can’t even remember how we met Brad and Lana, only that we immediately became close, close friends. (The header photo on this blog is from a canoe trip we took together with them.) Brad and Lana came over to visit us while we were living in Germany. We took them lots of places during their visit, but high on our list was a trip to Tiers, a wonderful spot right in the middle of the beautiful Italian Dolomite mountains. Yes, the same spot with the terrifying ski lift I wrote about earlier . We stayed at the same penzione Pam had found a couple years earlier. It was a wonderful, amazing place that she’d stumbled across in some oddball travel book. Brad and Lana fit right in, and the stoic Gasthaus hostess immediately took them under her wing. Brad and Lana both came from farming backgrounds, and somehow that ...

Mid-life crises are A Thing. I hit my late 40s and decided to pick up guitar again after decades away from it. I played a bit in junior high, but was awful at it. I got the itch, so I went out and bought a $200 Fender D60 guitar, then took some classical guitar lessons. It scratched my itch and fulfilled my need for something new and interesting as I got near 50. A few years later we needed to replace our very aging, high mile Jeep Cherokee. Two small kids, lots of sports and other activities, so of course we started looking at SUVs and minivans. Because, well, practicality. One day I was working at home and my wife came in to tell me she’d found something she wanted to test drive. Pam always had far, far higher aspirations than I did. Why should her midlife crisis be any different? So we ended up with this.

Pam loved puzzles. No, I mean LOVED puzzles. Early in our marriage we used to spend hours working on large puzzles of outdoor vistas. I think we even knocked off a 10,000 piece monster of a view in the Italian Dolomites. We had at least 20 puzzles in the closet, including a several-thousand piece one of cheeses. Yes, cheese. She was from Wisconsin. You’d expect different because… ? Pam’s puzzle passion changed when we started having kids. Turns out having thousands of tiny cardboard pieces around drooly, grabby munchkins isn’t a recipe for a calm play time. So we traded those monsters in for kid-appropriate puzzles and continued on. We were always happy to find a vacation spot that had a pile of puzzles for us to play with. Not sure where Pam’s love of puzzles started, but I did find this great photo of her in her high school days…

August 6th, 1993. Pam and I had been apart for a year as I finished out the last year of my enlistment in the US Air Force. We'd waited a long time, roughly 18 months, and now the Big Day was finally here. We were married at my family's cabin on Echo Lake in California. It's a serene, beautiful place that's been in the family since my Grandpa Holmes secured a lease on the national forest land back in 1938. Somehow we ended up with a Scottish-themed wedding, although I recollect it was Pam's idea as a part of linking to my family's heritage. Pam's mom made her dress, and I'd ordered my kilt from a small shop in Edinburgh. (There's a good story for another time about me trying to work through comprehension of a thick brogue over the phone.) We had 25 people at our ceremony, including the photographer and the bag piper. Today I'm sitting on the balcony at our home, doing some writing and a lot of reminiscing. It was a beautiful day all those...

For those of you who knew Pam: Duh. For those who didn't: This is her natural, happiest state: surrounded by pets. Yes, yes, yes, she loved people, but her bond with pets was just incredibly deep. When I met her she had two cats: Carmen and Little. 22 years later when we moved from Ohio to Oregon we took two old cats, two one-year old kittens, and two 13-year old dogs. Yes, that's six pets. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here are several photos: Pam with Ed the cat, Grace, and Gus Pam with Bugsy, her office mate Napping with Bugsy and Grace A lap full of kittens

Neither Pam nor I have been fans of heights. Despite a love of mountains and hiking, we weren’t the kind who enjoyed scampering along narrow trails at the edge of a cliff. Neither of us were incapacitated by heights, but the feeling was far past mere discomfort. During out time in southern Germany (Pam was assigned to a NATO aircraft modification plant in Bavaria from 1995 to 1998) we took a number of vacation trips to Tiers, Italy. Tiers is right in the middle of the glorious Südtirol region, and is chock full of great hiking and climbing trails. During one of our trips Pam thought we should drive to one of the ski lifts and hop a ride to mid-way up the Rosengarten ridgeline. We’d save a couple hours of hiking and get to the most beautiful part of the trail straight away. We parked our car at the lift’s parking lot and walked up to the base of the ski lift. We paid for the ride, then were directed around a corner to the entry point for the lift. We rounded the corner and ran in ...

Pam and I met in Anchorage, Alaska, some time in 1990 or '91. We were both stationed at Elmendorf Air Force Base as we served in the 962 AWACS squadron. I don't remember how we grew together. I do remember a bunch of games of racquetball and some other activities. Our time together was pretty stilted at first because she was a commissioned officer and I was enlisted—relationships between officers and enlisted was extremely verboten in those times. Moving past that took a long time, and a lot of my cooking to win her over. We secretly courted for months in Alaska, then another year apart while I was in Oklahoma. I remember sneaking out to Palmer, AK, from Anchorage for a movie date. I can't remember the movie, but I do remember slinking down in the seats to make sure nobody saw us. Mind you, Palmer is roughly an hour away from Anchorage, and not really a date night destination for most people. I also remember a halibut fishing trip out of Homer. Pam always had modera...

It turns out you lose some perspective on life when your loving, kind, empathetic 12-year old son wakes up one morning and murders your wife and attacks, horribly injuring, your 16-year old daughter. It turns out you lose some perspective on your relationship with your formerly alive wife when you spend six months digging over every horrible negative, troubled aspect and event of that relationship with defense lawyers, police, and other law enforcement as everyone searches for some reason why your son snapped and did the awful things he did. This blog is an attempt to bring back some memories of the many wonderful times my wife Pam Wolosz and I had during our courtship and life together. Because in the depths of the horrors of the last six months, it's easy for me to lose perspective that there was also joy. A lot of it.