Blog archive
March 2025
About Senior Solutions
03/28/2025
Building a Bridge With Journey House, A Home Base for Former Foster Youth
03/28/2025
Come for the Knitting, Stay for the Conversation... and the Cookies
03/28/2025
Creating Safe and Smart Spaces with Home Technology
03/28/2025
Finding Joy in My Role on The Pasadena Village Board
03/28/2025
I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!
03/28/2025
Managing Anxiety
03/28/2025
Message from Our President: Keeping Pasadena Village Strong Together
03/28/2025
My Favorite Easter Gift
03/28/2025
The Hidden History of Black Women in WWII
03/28/2025
Urinary Tract Infection – Watch Out!
03/28/2025
Volunteer Coordinator and Blade-Runner
03/28/2025
Continuing Commitment to Combating Racism
03/26/2025
Status - March 20, 2025
03/20/2025
Goodbye and Keep Cold by Robert Frost
03/13/2025
What The Living Do by Marie Howe
03/13/2025
Racism is Not Genetic
03/11/2025
Bill Gould, The First
03/07/2025
THIS IS A CHAPTER, NOT MY WHOLE STORY
03/07/2025
Dramatic Flair: Villagers Share their Digital Art
03/03/2025
Empowering Senior LGBTQ+ Caregivers
03/03/2025
A Life Never Anticipated
03/02/2025
Eaton Fire Changes Life
03/02/2025
February 2025
Commemorating Black History Month 2025
02/28/2025
Transportation at the Pasadena Village
02/28/2025
A Look at Proposition 19
02/27/2025
Behind the Scenes: Understanding the Pasadena Village Board and Its Role
02/27/2025
Beyond and Within the Village: The Power of One
02/27/2025
Celebrating Black Voices
02/27/2025
Creatively Supporting Our Village Community
02/27/2025
Decluttering: More Than The Name Implies
02/27/2025
Hidden Gems of Forest Lawn Museum
02/27/2025
LA River Walk
02/27/2025
Message from the President
02/27/2025
Phoenix Rising
02/27/2025
1619 Conversations with West African Art
02/25/2025
The Party Line
02/24/2025
Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
02/17/2025
Dreams by Langston Hughes
02/17/2025
Haiku - Four by Fritzie
02/17/2025
Haikus - Nine by Virginia
02/17/2025
Wind and Fire
02/17/2025
Partnerships Amplify Relief Efforts
02/07/2025
Another Community Giving Back
02/05/2025
Diary of Disaster Response
02/05/2025
Eaton Fire: A Community United in Loss and Recovery
02/05/2025
Healing Powers of Creative Energy
02/05/2025
Living the Mission
02/05/2025
Message from the President: Honoring Black History Month
02/05/2025
Surviving and Thriving: Elder Health Considerations After the Fires
02/05/2025
Treasure Hunting in The Ashes
02/05/2025
Villager's Stories
02/05/2025
A Beginning of Healing
02/03/2025
Hectic Evacuation From Eaton Canyon Fire
02/02/2025
Hurricanes and Fires are Different Monsters
02/02/2025
January 2025
At Dawn by Ed Mervine
01/31/2025
Thank you for Relief Efforts
01/31/2025
Needs as of January 25, 2025
01/24/2025
Eaton Fire Information
01/23/2025
Escape to San Diego
01/19/2025
Finding Courage Amid Tragedy
01/19/2025
Responses of Pasadena Village February 22, 2025
01/18/2025
A Tale of Three Fires
01/14/2025
A memory from Middle School
By Richard MyersPosted: 09/04/2020
It was probably 1957 or 58. I was attending Eliot Middle School in Altadena. It was an all-white school at the time but this year a black girl was enrolled. Her name was Deborah Sweeney. I supposed her parents were part of the “block busters”, the black people who were buying homes in the Altadena community. They were called “block busters” because once they bought in, “for sale” signs popped up on lawns up and down the block. “White-flight” was beginning.
Deborah was tiny and dark. I was big and blond. We were both excellent students and shared all the same math, language, science and history classes. We both wore glasses, were very smart and very often raised our hands to offer correct answers in the classroom. We were both very shy in those days.
Without really knowing her, I liked her. She impressed me She was neat, smart and smiled when I looked at her. Sometimes I would see her eating lunch alone. It made me sad. I wanted to invite her to join me and my friends. But I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to.
After Eliot, Deborah and I both attended John Muir High School where there were many more brown kids. We continued to be good students and we did eventually get to know each other a little bit but now she had her circle of friends and I still had mine.
Today I am a long way away from Eliot and those years, yet I still remember the name, Deborah Sweeney. Over my lifetime I have thought of her and wondered how hard that time in middle school must have been for her. Those years are hard enough when everything is going your way and you have friends. How hard it must have been for her to be going through that age under those circumstances. What courage she had. What courage her parents had.
Today, at 75, I still remember her name and how she looked. I regret that I did not have the strength of character to reach out and make friends with her. I still wonder who she became. My guess is that she did something great with her life. She was smart and brave. I wish I could say, “I knew her when…”
- Karen -