Thursday, September 06, 2018
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Summertime and the Living Ain't Easy!
Summertime and the living is easy.... When Gershwin wrote those lyrics he must have been describing his single, childless, orphan friends. Since I’m none of those things the living ain’t easy. It is aggravating and sometimes difficult.
Yada yada. I know I am fortunate. I'm healthy, my aging parents who live in NW Florida are still alive, my kids who were residing in different parts of NC are happy enough, and my husband who resides most the time at a job site or apartment in North Alabama hasn't divorced me yet.
Our home is in beautiful East Tenneesee, but I spent most of the summer on the road. Traveling one direction and then another to help out, (annoy and be annoyed in return) by family.
I love them with all my ice-cold (I've been told) heart. However, if you want to label me an ingrate go ahead and judge. I know I would.
Our home is in beautiful East Tenneesee, but I spent most of the summer on the road. Traveling one direction and then another to help out, (annoy and be annoyed in return) by family.
I love them with all my ice-cold (I've been told) heart. However, if you want to label me an ingrate go ahead and judge. I know I would.
If you follow my social media posts you know my life is so good, if it wasn't my own I'd be jealous. Thought I'd rub it in and share just how good it is… good and AGGRAVATING.
I began summer by spending quality time at my childhood home on Solomon's Happy Hill Farm. Both my parents have been in and out of the hospital, and my dad is not well.
While there to help, I managed to tick off relatives and non-relatives alike by asking questions instead of taking orders, cleaning house, mentioning hospice, and God forbid doing the laundry.
I didn't just wash the Sunday go-to-church attire or going-out clothes either. Nope, I had the audacity to wash the manure drenched work clothes that were drawing flies to my mom's back porch. The hired help was not impressed with my laundry abilities, and let me know he did not appreciate me butting in.
Then my mother who was already fed up with me for cleaning house tossing out important plastic kitchen containers, reprimanded me for being childish when I tossed his clean, dried laundry back on the porch for him to fold himself. I figured it was the least I could do, as I'd already denied him the pleasure of washing and drying his own laundry.
Childish, I told my mother, would be to dump it in the cow pasture and stomp it into the manure! I (not bragging) refrained from that!
I'm going to skip over other highlights of my visit, but by the time I left, only my Daddy was sad to see me go. He was still well medicated.
My social media is divided into two categories, the people that grew up with me, and the people that came after. The latter group will think I make these things up, but I'm pretty confident the people I grew up with will know, if anything, I'm omitting the best parts of my visit to Walnut Hill, Florida.
After Florida, I hightailed it to North Alabama, where I enthralled my husband, Randy, with stories of my visit to the farm. If he had paid attention I wouldn't be blogging VENTING. What would a writer do without family to inspire and motivate!?
My husband was distracted by the TV and a headache (a.k.a a work project that had him trapped in Alabama all summer long). Randy didn’t get to share the joy of moving our daughter, Tabitha, out of Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
Tabitha graduated from the UNC grad school, and her new employer is in Huntsville, Alabama, only thirty minutes away from where her Dad works. It’s the first time in a decade he’ll have one of his children closer than an airplane ride away. Now that she’s all grown up and soon-to-be financially independant he’s thrilled about it!
Such a happy time, as you can see from Instagram photos I've shared. What's not pictured: the disagreements, frustration, anxiety, and tears behind those fake smiles.
This time next year we'll all be laughing about it. I'm already laughing about the used car salesman who called himself an IT recruiter, and demanded my indecisive daughter make a decision right then and there about his job offer.
Not so funny was the interview in NYC where Delta screwed up Tabitha's flight back home, and took her off the plane she had boarded and left her stranded in Newark, New Jersey as the airport was closing. Then the hotel we got her so she could get some sleep (none of us slept) failed to mention that they didn't have a shuttle running early enough to get her to her early morning flight the next day. She had no cash for an Uber, and the hotel she'd stayed at previously, paid for by her potential new employer, had placed a hold on her bank card in case she drank the liquor or stole the bed linen. Both of which would have cost more than the amount of money she had left in her bank account.
Then there was my road trip to NC to move her home. It's a little funny... now. Except for the part about her car which was, and remains, in the shop in North Carolina.
On my way to Chapel Hill I picked up my son, Jordan, in Asheville, NC. He was to help us with the heavy lifting and the U-haul. Only he woke up sick, and Tabitha and I had to do it by ourselves.
No surpirse. It’s uncanny how many times the men in our family have some life-threatening illness, or an important work or school project that just happens to coincide with some fun family activity involving grunt work.
Tabitha and I argued over how to pack, worried it wouldn't fit, and got lucky on parking as neither of us could back up a trailer. If her sofa hadn't been moved to TN earlier, we would have had a serious predicament.
Once our trailer was loaded the next hurdle was a hotel parking spot that I could get in and out of. If you’ve ever visited a college town, you know why I was stressed out about it. Luckily there were no sporting events.
On our way back to TN, in an effort to avoid the narrow backroads of Jordan's Asheville abode, I took a detour he suggested, which did not take us back to the interstate. Instead we went the scenic route through NC which meant hairpin curves, steep mountains, and unhappy people who preferred to drive faster then 25 mph behind a U-haul trailer. We were queasy the entire drive.
The good news, according to Jordan, was we were not on the infamous Dragon's Tail. That would be the road he took a few years back when he drove from NC to TN after owning his new-old motor bike for about five minutes. I'm still cringing.
On August 20, Tabitha began her new job as a UX Researcher for Trideum in Huntsville, Alabama. I stayed in Alabama long enough to see her return from her first day of work. As soon as I saw her return home (driving her rental car) I could tell she was going to be fine.
She's happy with her life decisions, and I'm happy she's happy. It makes it easier to tolerate the fact that her car is being held hostage at a Fiat dealership in North Carolina due to the Fiat Chrysler manufacturer's inability to produce a transmission
Apparently there is a nationwide transmission shortage on Fiat 500s. Her car has been in the shop since early July. Which meant she had to move without it, is now having to rent a car to get to work, they have no idea when the part will come in, and once it does she'll incur the expense of another trip from North Alabama to and from North Carolina.
We've complained to every customer service representative from the Fiat dealership to the USA.GOV. None of whom are optimistic.
On the bright side, Tabitha has a job she loves, and by the time they find a transmission for her car, she will not even need that credit card we co-signed for her so she could afford to pay for it.
Summertime and the living ain't been all that easy, but it's been fun. Just look at all my photos on social media. Wink, wink.
Friday, August 24, 2018
Don't Look Back...
Don't look back you're not going that way!
The first time I shared this quote was August 2014, and my daughter, Tabitha was on her way to Europe. In high school she had excelled in French, and couldn't wait to visit Paris. Much has changed in our lives since then, but the quote still applies.
Monday, August 06, 2018
Tuesday, June 05, 2018
Explaining Cancer to Kids: Tickles Tabitha's going to Summer Reading Camp!
Schools Out for Summer!
Just writing the words sends a nostalgic feeling of euphoria pulsing through me. I disliked school as a kid. However, I loved attending my school's summer reading program. It was everything I liked, which was art, reading, and snacks, without the things I didn't!
I had no idea that summer school was educational. It was too much fun! My real school experiences had taught me that anything educational is difficult. In my childish mind fun did not equate to learning. If it had I would have been a much better student.
That is why I try hard to make even difficult topics, like cancer and nuclear power, fun to read about.
This June, I’m excited to announce that Tickles Tabitha and I are going back to summer school! We've been invited to Read to be Ready Camp at Midtown Elementary School in Roane County, Tennessee, where I now reside.
Midtown Elementary was awarded one of Tennessee's Read to Be Ready grants, and we were invited to participate in their summer reading camp: Birds, Blooms, and Books! Made possible by the Tennessee Department of Education.
I’ll be introducing students to my book Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy, and sharing with them my experiences of being a writer, publisher, and cancer survivor.
It’s been several U-haul moves, and a new computer, since my last author school visit. However, you cannot retire from being a children’s book author…not when you have friends who are teachers.
My friend Nancy Laws teaches at Midtown Elementary. Today, I met up with her at the school to check out where I'd be camping. (Make sure all the technology works!)
Nancy and I became friends over twenty years ago, when our children were in play group together. She had just begun to take her teaching courses, and I had just found out I had breast cancer. It was in Tennessee, that I penned the first version of my cancer title.
It seemed only fitting that I would share my cancer awareness program with her campers.
I've been getting reacquainted with Tickles Tabitha, and Nutcracker Publishing's cancer awareness school program curriculum. All I'm missing are my campers, and a few props.
Tuesday, May 01, 2018
Reading, Writing, Overcoming Taboos: Celebrating Children's Book Week!
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| Poster created by Jillian Tamaki |
Much has changed since the October day in 2001, when Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-Tankerous Mommy debuted on the Rosie O'Donnell Show. Many of the obstacles I faced back then no longer exist, and are the source of amazement, and amusement to the Millennial and under generations.
The technology such as print on demand, our children take for granted was not possible then, and getting a book published could take months or even years.
Publishing houses often had their books printed in China, and for authors, the phrase slow boat from China was literal.
Publishing houses often had their books printed in China, and for authors, the phrase slow boat from China was literal.
However, what surprises my friends and colleagues most is that my children's book about cancer was greeted with about as much enthusiasm, by the publishing industry, as my children's book about nuclear power was, by anti-nuclear opponents, in the wake of Fukushima.
In 1994, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, it was not the norm to talk to children about it. We barely spoke above a whisper about it when talking to our adult friends.
Tickles Tabitha's Cancer-tankerous Mommy was the first children's book to touch on issues like a mom's depression. Or picture a tired and moody mommy. Its honest portrayal was a taboo topic.
When Rosie O'Donnell advocated for cancer awareness on live TV, her mere mention of a children's book about cancer opened the door for social acceptability.
There were very few resources available about living with cancer, even for adults.
When Rosie O'Donnell advocated for cancer awareness on live TV, her mere mention of a children's book about cancer opened the door for social acceptability.
There were very few resources available about living with cancer, even for adults.
One that could be found at the oncologist's office was Coping with Cancer Magazine. Unlike other publications, handed to me during my diagnosis, it offered stories about people who were surviving cancer.
How I survived publishing my first children's book, while coping with a cancer diagnosis is the subject of my own survivor story, featured last year in the printed version of Coping with Cancer.
This year, I'm happy to help them announce that the new Coping with Cancer website is up and running, and includes a digital version of my story: After Cancer: Discovering the Life I was meant to Live.
I feel like that old Virginia Slims cigarette slogan should be applied to non-smoking me: "You've come a long way, Baby." I sure have! So have children's picture books!
Monday, April 23, 2018
Where is a Tree Hugger when you need one?
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| On a recent hike with my son, Jordan. |
I feel like I earned it as I spent all last week, and my weekend celebrating Earth Day.
By that I mean I purchased a truck load of plants, and then agonized over which ones I'm least likely to kill, what color combinations look best, and most importantly, where they need to go to make it look good.
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| One of several flower beds. |
By the time my husband, Randy, arrived home Friday evening I had the hard part taken care of, and all he had to do was dig a few hundred holes! With my help...which is why today, after all the garden aerobics we did, I felt justified to skip the morning run.
Instead I chose to listen to my audio book while sprinkling cayenne pepper on the flowering plant that it turns out is not resistant to rabbits!
Happy World Book Day & Copyright Day!
Crack Open a Book! from Nutcracker Publishing.
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
Long Skinny Toes: Birthday Memories
Early in the morning on a Palm Sunday, twenty-eight years ago, I woke up when my water broke. My daughter, Tabitha, arrived later that day via a cesarean section as she was breech. Our nurse took one look at my daughter's longer than average toes and laughed that she was not surprised my water broke, "I'll bet those toes did it," she exclaimed.
The girl attached to those long skinny toes is now a 28 year old woman. So much has changed, but she will always be my baby doll. She still makes my heart swell with pride, those long toes still make me laugh, and they still provoke the exclamations of family, friends, and complete strangers!
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
Twenty-six on the 26: Happy Golden Birthday!
Saturday, March 17, 2018
Friday, March 16, 2018
Monday, March 12, 2018
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Hanukkah Sameach
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| Art provided by Tabitha Frahm |
Happy Haukkah from the Nutcracker Publishing Company. Crack Open a Book!
Wednesday, December 06, 2017
Happy Saint Nicholas Day!
Celebrating the spirit of St. Nicholas.
Hope you didn't get any coal in your shoe!
Nutcracker Publishing Company
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Tis the Season for SCAMMERS: The Grandparent Scam
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| Solomon's Happy Hill Farm |
My 87-year-old father is now bedridden. Daddy grew up dirt poor, but in more ways than one he’ll leave this world a wealthy man. Sadly, he is no longer able to ride around the farmland he accumulated during his lifetime. His body is failing him, but mentally he’s still nobody’s fool.
Like most people in his age bracket he still has a landline telephone. Despite being on the DO NOT CALL register, he receives a call about once a week from someone, somewhere, trying to swindle him out of money. These days the TV and these phone calls are about the only entertainment he has; he likes sparring with the scammers, and enjoys laughing into the telephone receiver before he slams it down.
I can attest that the only people losing their minds at my father's house are the people taking care of him. My father is anything but gullible, which is why I'm sharing this story.
On November 13th my parents were targeted by telephone scammers using the Grandparent Scam. If you have aging parents with grandchildren they love dearly but aren’t in contact with on a daily basis, or have always lived in another state, you need to know about this scam!
As luck would have it, I was visiting my parents at their home in Florida when it appeared my 25-year-old son Jordan phoned from North Carolina. Both my parents answered the phone. My mother answered in the family room, where I was typing an email, and my father from his bedroom.
I wondered if Jordan had forgotten I was there, as he hadn’t called on my cell, but it’s not uncommon for him to call to talk to his grandfather especially since he’s been sick. I heard my mom say, “You sound as if you have a cold, Jordan.” Then, “I’m going to hang up so you can hear Granddaddy better.”
Then she turned to me and said, “Jordan sounded like he’s sick with a cold too.” One of her other grandsons who resides nearby had been sick with a cold all week.
We were too far away to hear the words spoken by my father, but I could hear the tone of his voice. He’d been talking for a while when I thought I heard him call me, but maybe it was just mother’s instinct. I put down my laptop, went to his bedroom, and knew immediately from the expression on his face that something was wrong.
He was still on the phone, and fumbled with it before telling me to sit down. He had something to tell me, “Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay. Just sit down.” He appeared to still be on the phone with Jordan.
I was on my way to sit down but immediately stood up and told him whatever was wrong to spit it out!!
As luck would have it, I was visiting my parents at their home in Florida when it appeared my 25-year-old son Jordan phoned from North Carolina. Both my parents answered the phone. My mother answered in the family room, where I was typing an email, and my father from his bedroom.
I wondered if Jordan had forgotten I was there, as he hadn’t called on my cell, but it’s not uncommon for him to call to talk to his grandfather especially since he’s been sick. I heard my mom say, “You sound as if you have a cold, Jordan.” Then, “I’m going to hang up so you can hear Granddaddy better.”
Then she turned to me and said, “Jordan sounded like he’s sick with a cold too.” One of her other grandsons who resides nearby had been sick with a cold all week.
We were too far away to hear the words spoken by my father, but I could hear the tone of his voice. He’d been talking for a while when I thought I heard him call me, but maybe it was just mother’s instinct. I put down my laptop, went to his bedroom, and knew immediately from the expression on his face that something was wrong.
He was still on the phone, and fumbled with it before telling me to sit down. He had something to tell me, “Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay. Just sit down.” He appeared to still be on the phone with Jordan.
I was on my way to sit down but immediately stood up and told him whatever was wrong to spit it out!!
Jordan had been arrested, my father said. I was suddenly sick to my stomach. My father told me that morning Jordan woke up sick, and had asked a friend to drive him; he didn’t know if it was to work or to get something for his cold. He and his friend had been pulled over by law enforcement, the car was searched, drugs were found, and he was in jail.
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| Jordan |
He had assured my dad he was innocent. He had been appointed a female attorney who had been helpful. She was going to get him out of jail, but it was going to cost $9000.00 for bail. That’s why he was calling his granddaddy, he needed money, and he asked that he please keep it between the two of them.
The female attorney would call his granddaddy once they hung up, and give him instructions on how to send the money.
Everything about this story sounded plausible.
I took the phone from my father, sick with worry and prepared to interrogate. However, the line was dead. My father worried aloud that he’d betrayed Jordan’s trust by telling me what was going on.
My father did not want his grandson to spend a single night or day in jail. Nor did he want him to pay a bail bondsman. He views that as a scam. We waited for the attorney to call back…
When she didn’t call back pronto, my father insisted I call the county courthouse to find out where Jordan was being held, and what we needed to do to get him released.
I called every possible courthouse (4) near where my son lives and works in North Carolina. He wasn’t at any of them. The clerk at the very first courthouse I called asked me if I was sure he was in jail, as there was a scam going around where relatives were told their family members were in jail and needed money. I thought to myself, I wish, but my parents know Jordan’s voice. It’s – deep and distinctive – I had been sitting near my mom-and although I didn’t talk to him I thought it had sounded like him from where I was sitting.
I relayed what the clerk said to my dad, but he was sure that it was Jordan he spoke to, and both my parents had talked to Jordan. One of my dad’s caregivers was with my mom, so I didn’t want to divulge why I was questioning her, but when I asked her how he sounded, she said fine – except he had a cold.
Afterwards I would learn that my mother held the one clue that this Jordan was an imposter.
However, right then everything about Jordan being arrested sounded plausible even to me, but much less his grandparents.
A few months earlier, Jordan moved to a new residence. He had told us his former roommates were involved with drugs, and they were bringing them into the house they all rented. I had been relieved that he'd moved, but now I wondered, and worried if this had anything to do with his arrest.
Both my children are in NC, and my husband and I had just returned from visiting them. Our daughter Tabitha is a grad student at UNC, and Jordan lives and works not far from where she does. They’re very close and get together often.
Jordan works as an electrical apprentice, but he had asked his boss to cut his hours. He wanted to use his off time to study for the GRE. He likes his job, but his major is biology. At the time I was happy to hear he was considering going back to school.
Now that time off from work had me worried. Was he on his way to work or somewhere else when they got pulled over? Who’s car?
Jordan knew how sick his granddaddy was, and there was no way he would call him for money. I would have thought his sister would have been the first person he would call, except he knows she’s broke or, God forbid, he wasn’t as innocent as he professed.
I called Tabitha. She had just seen him the night before, but she had no idea if he was working that day or not. Like me, she was familiar with the former roommate situation, and it worried her. He had been working a lot of overtime, and she wondered why he didn’t have his own money to make bail.
Then I called my husband, Randy. I made a hectic schedule of 12 hour days that much worse. My husband was dumbfounded, he thought Jordan had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it could happen, it would happen to Jordan. He’s that kid!
Jordan wasn’t at any of the courthouses I had phoned. So what county was he in? Could that be why he didn’t call one of us? We knew where he should be. My husband told me not to jump to conclusions or worry about it until I talked to our son.
I tried Jordan’s cell, but I didn’t expect him to answer if he was in jail. On a whim I sent a text to his phone to call me ASAP. Five minutes later my cell phone rang and it was my son.
I didn’t bother with formalities, but asked, “Where are you Jordan?” to which he replied he was at work and had been all day. I think my next question was, “Are you sure?” and then I asked, “Do you have a cold?”
The first thing I noticed was he did not. Nor did he sound at all distressed. It only took the first question for my son to know that something was wrong, but to his credit he waited before asking what was going on.
My son is a charismatic, intellectually gifted young man who loves his family, but it’s not the first time we’ve been worried sick on our end about Jordan, while he’s doing business as usual and clueless about it. My dad says Jordan could write a book. Lord knows I have a bookshelf of journals filled with his escapades.
I passed the phone to my father, who retold what the Jordan imposter had said to him. He wanted to make darn sure that Jordan was okay. My son assured my dad he was not in jail; he had been at work all day.
I told Jordan to call his sister immediately, and I would call his dad. Nothing makes you realize how little a job matters like getting a phone call that one of your children is in trouble. I enjoyed making that call!
Later Jordan called his granddaddy and I back and assured us he was indeed alright. My first thought was someone he’s acquainted with may have tried to extort money from his grandfather. However, he had already figured out it was a scam targeting older people. The information they had just took a quick google search.
Jordan assured my dad he was okay, and he was not at all upset that he had told me what was going on. There was nothing he couldn’t talk to his parents about, but if he ever did have a secret he knew who to trust with it. He was so appreciative that my dad was going to send him the money.
I apologized to Jordan that I didn’t recognize it as a con, and had doubted him even a little bit.
My son is well aware I was making plans to bail him out of jail in NC, and banish him to basement hell in TN. Yet, he told me he understood why we fell for it, and it made him and his sister feel good to know if either of them were indeed in that kind of trouble we would be there for them. A huge indication of how grown-up they are. It wasn’t that long ago they would have called me an overbearing, helicopter mother.
Neither the Jordan imposter nor his fake attorney called my dad back. I suspect when they discovered his mother was there they knew the gig was up.
My dad insisted the imposter’s voice sounded like Jordan, and so did my mom. In retrospect the only clue offered to my parents was how the imposter had addressed my mother.
When she answered he said, “How are you doing Grandma, it’s Jordan.” Her grandchildren would never call her grandma, they call her granny, but that didn’t register at the time. My dad had answered too, so she said, "I’ll hang up and let you talk to Granddaddy." So the imposter now knew exactly how to address my father.
This scam has been going on for years, but the con artists are getting more sophisticated and technology is making things like voice manipulation easier. My parents are not the only grandparents targeted by this con to say the caller sounded just like their grandchild.
The clerk at the courthouse in NC said it was doubtful that anything the scammers provided would be traceable.
The Grandparent Scam hit all the right buttons. There was no way my father was going to let Jordan spend a night in jail. He was ready to send my mother to the bank to wire him the money. I’m sure he would have told her to not to tell a soul, and she would have complied. My dad loves to talk about other people’s families, but any dirt (or jail time) within his own family he’s prepared to take to his grave. The same can be said for my mother.
Eventually the real Jordan would have phoned my dad, and my father would have figured out he had been scammed. If you know my dad, you know that would have been as bad as finding out his grandson had been arrested.
The female attorney would call his granddaddy once they hung up, and give him instructions on how to send the money.
Everything about this story sounded plausible.
I took the phone from my father, sick with worry and prepared to interrogate. However, the line was dead. My father worried aloud that he’d betrayed Jordan’s trust by telling me what was going on.
My father did not want his grandson to spend a single night or day in jail. Nor did he want him to pay a bail bondsman. He views that as a scam. We waited for the attorney to call back…
When she didn’t call back pronto, my father insisted I call the county courthouse to find out where Jordan was being held, and what we needed to do to get him released.
I called every possible courthouse (4) near where my son lives and works in North Carolina. He wasn’t at any of them. The clerk at the very first courthouse I called asked me if I was sure he was in jail, as there was a scam going around where relatives were told their family members were in jail and needed money. I thought to myself, I wish, but my parents know Jordan’s voice. It’s – deep and distinctive – I had been sitting near my mom-and although I didn’t talk to him I thought it had sounded like him from where I was sitting.
I relayed what the clerk said to my dad, but he was sure that it was Jordan he spoke to, and both my parents had talked to Jordan. One of my dad’s caregivers was with my mom, so I didn’t want to divulge why I was questioning her, but when I asked her how he sounded, she said fine – except he had a cold.
Afterwards I would learn that my mother held the one clue that this Jordan was an imposter.
However, right then everything about Jordan being arrested sounded plausible even to me, but much less his grandparents.
A few months earlier, Jordan moved to a new residence. He had told us his former roommates were involved with drugs, and they were bringing them into the house they all rented. I had been relieved that he'd moved, but now I wondered, and worried if this had anything to do with his arrest.
Both my children are in NC, and my husband and I had just returned from visiting them. Our daughter Tabitha is a grad student at UNC, and Jordan lives and works not far from where she does. They’re very close and get together often.
Jordan works as an electrical apprentice, but he had asked his boss to cut his hours. He wanted to use his off time to study for the GRE. He likes his job, but his major is biology. At the time I was happy to hear he was considering going back to school.
Now that time off from work had me worried. Was he on his way to work or somewhere else when they got pulled over? Who’s car?
Jordan knew how sick his granddaddy was, and there was no way he would call him for money. I would have thought his sister would have been the first person he would call, except he knows she’s broke or, God forbid, he wasn’t as innocent as he professed.
I called Tabitha. She had just seen him the night before, but she had no idea if he was working that day or not. Like me, she was familiar with the former roommate situation, and it worried her. He had been working a lot of overtime, and she wondered why he didn’t have his own money to make bail.
Then I called my husband, Randy. I made a hectic schedule of 12 hour days that much worse. My husband was dumbfounded, he thought Jordan had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it could happen, it would happen to Jordan. He’s that kid!
Jordan wasn’t at any of the courthouses I had phoned. So what county was he in? Could that be why he didn’t call one of us? We knew where he should be. My husband told me not to jump to conclusions or worry about it until I talked to our son.
I tried Jordan’s cell, but I didn’t expect him to answer if he was in jail. On a whim I sent a text to his phone to call me ASAP. Five minutes later my cell phone rang and it was my son.
I didn’t bother with formalities, but asked, “Where are you Jordan?” to which he replied he was at work and had been all day. I think my next question was, “Are you sure?” and then I asked, “Do you have a cold?”
The first thing I noticed was he did not. Nor did he sound at all distressed. It only took the first question for my son to know that something was wrong, but to his credit he waited before asking what was going on.
My son is a charismatic, intellectually gifted young man who loves his family, but it’s not the first time we’ve been worried sick on our end about Jordan, while he’s doing business as usual and clueless about it. My dad says Jordan could write a book. Lord knows I have a bookshelf of journals filled with his escapades.
I passed the phone to my father, who retold what the Jordan imposter had said to him. He wanted to make darn sure that Jordan was okay. My son assured my dad he was not in jail; he had been at work all day.
I told Jordan to call his sister immediately, and I would call his dad. Nothing makes you realize how little a job matters like getting a phone call that one of your children is in trouble. I enjoyed making that call!
Later Jordan called his granddaddy and I back and assured us he was indeed alright. My first thought was someone he’s acquainted with may have tried to extort money from his grandfather. However, he had already figured out it was a scam targeting older people. The information they had just took a quick google search.
Jordan assured my dad he was okay, and he was not at all upset that he had told me what was going on. There was nothing he couldn’t talk to his parents about, but if he ever did have a secret he knew who to trust with it. He was so appreciative that my dad was going to send him the money.
I apologized to Jordan that I didn’t recognize it as a con, and had doubted him even a little bit.
My son is well aware I was making plans to bail him out of jail in NC, and banish him to basement hell in TN. Yet, he told me he understood why we fell for it, and it made him and his sister feel good to know if either of them were indeed in that kind of trouble we would be there for them. A huge indication of how grown-up they are. It wasn’t that long ago they would have called me an overbearing, helicopter mother.
Neither the Jordan imposter nor his fake attorney called my dad back. I suspect when they discovered his mother was there they knew the gig was up.
My dad insisted the imposter’s voice sounded like Jordan, and so did my mom. In retrospect the only clue offered to my parents was how the imposter had addressed my mother.
When she answered he said, “How are you doing Grandma, it’s Jordan.” Her grandchildren would never call her grandma, they call her granny, but that didn’t register at the time. My dad had answered too, so she said, "I’ll hang up and let you talk to Granddaddy." So the imposter now knew exactly how to address my father.
This scam has been going on for years, but the con artists are getting more sophisticated and technology is making things like voice manipulation easier. My parents are not the only grandparents targeted by this con to say the caller sounded just like their grandchild.
The clerk at the courthouse in NC said it was doubtful that anything the scammers provided would be traceable.
The Grandparent Scam hit all the right buttons. There was no way my father was going to let Jordan spend a night in jail. He was ready to send my mother to the bank to wire him the money. I’m sure he would have told her to not to tell a soul, and she would have complied. My dad loves to talk about other people’s families, but any dirt (or jail time) within his own family he’s prepared to take to his grave. The same can be said for my mother.
Eventually the real Jordan would have phoned my dad, and my father would have figured out he had been scammed. If you know my dad, you know that would have been as bad as finding out his grandson had been arrested.
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| My parent's, Preston & Patricia Solomon. With their grandchildren: Jordan, J.P., Levi, and Tabitha. Not pictured is Makenna. Photo was taken several years ago-in Tabitha's case that's several hairstyles ago. |
Going forward, if any of his other grandchildren need to borrow money to make bail, they best be prepared to be interrogated, and then expect a personal visit from his banking liaison before receiving any funds.
2017 has been a long year, filled with tragedy, health issues, and worries brought on by Mother Nature. However, this experience incited us to remember we still have much to be grateful for. My father still has his money, my son’s not in jail, and once again the people at Frahm haus have been reminded that family is what matters most.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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