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Greetings to all who read and follow this blog! I started it in 2011 in homage to my mother Bette Hutchison Silver.

Now I’m onto a new stage… and a new blog… about the process of researching writing and rewriting an historical novel based on events in my father’s life,  W. Lon Hutchison.

Tracking the Human: nobody’s a long time is the story of Lew, a teenage runaway from Oklahoma, who overcomes drug addiction, mental illness and family betrayal to become a successful entrepreneur.

I hope you will follow my new blog.

Thank you! Pamela Collett RN 2

29 June 2018


Carpet shampooing

brings change of venue

Moving furniture

to shampoo carpets

Spring cleaning in winter

to welcome VIP visitors

Son and daughter in law

coming from Kenya

Sitting in the kitchen

with my computer

Different outlook

than at my desk


Sometimes I ride the bus

to the Canberra CBD*

or the Kingston public library**

to write

Not for inspiration

but for change

of venue

of thought

If I set out to write

some place other

than at home

I am a writer


What has brought

the most change is

support from two women

in our writers’ group

AND writing the blog

Life Expectancy:

searching for reconciliation***

Reliving the time and travel

to research about my father’s life


Writing the blog

makes the story

the book

I am writing

Life Expectancy

come alive

I recognize

my own commitment

appreciate it

accept it

and will continue

My father W. Lon Hutchison as a young man                  
photograph with artificial colour added


*Central Business District

**Kingston is a neighbourhood in Canberra, Australia

***Life Expectancy is the title of the fictional book I am writing, based on some events in my father’s life

In our family when I was a child, Easter was more of a celebration of spring than a religious event.  We attended the Christian Science Sunday School at Sixth Church near Southwest High School in Kansas City Missouri.  Christian Scientists do not believe in the divinity of Jesus. Easter services are the same as any other: readings from the Bible and from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy by lay members of the congregation.  There are no priests or hierarchy in Christian Science. There are no crosses nor pictures of Jesus in the church.

I remember one Easter when I was about 12 years old.  My father had been in Washington DC on business and had bought Easter dresses for my sister Lonna and myself at a famous Washington DC department store which I cannot remember the name of right now.  My father was very proud of the fact that my sister’s dress decorated with wide pink satin ribbons was exactly the same as the dress that President Nixon’s daughter wore that Easter.

I remember wearing a hat on my permed hair.  My mom was forever trying to change my straight dark locks with home permanents.  I remember fainting in the bathroom one time while she was applying the chemicals.

After attending Sunday School, we usually went to Brettons, a restaurant  in downtown Kansas City, owned by two Jewish brothers.  We considered them our “uncles” and they always gave us special treats like beautiful petit fours, tiny decorated cakes,  and presents on our birthdays.  My father , who was quite conservative, would argue about politics with Louis Bretton, who was quite progressive.

On Easter Sunday we would then go to the Country Club Plaza, where they had special Easter decorations.  I remember a small playground, full of children and huge plaster Easter bunnies.  Somewhere there is a photo of my dad wearing a wide-brimmed hat, standing between my sister and myself, in front of a huge plaster Easter bunny.

We always got Easter baskets, with chocolate bunnies and jelly beans carefully placed in green plastic grass.  We died hard boil eggs in gorgeous colors, using clear wax crayons to keep the colors separate.  However, neither my sister nor I liked to east the wondrously colourful eggs.  I liked to dye them and admire the swirling colors. I really don’t know who did eat the eggs.

Lon Hutchison, baby Pamela, Bette Jo Hutchison, Kansas City Missouri, 1946

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