Choose To Be Happy Today

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are.

After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, or when we retire.

The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with...and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting

--until your car or home is paid off
--until you get a new car or home
--until your kids leave the house
--until you go back to school
--until you lose ten pounds
--until you gain ten pounds
--until you finish school
--until you get a divorce
--until you get married
--until you have kids
--until you retire
--until summer
--until spring
--until winter
--until fall
--until you die

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
So -- work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching.

Just Brush His Hair

The following story is told by someone learning to be led of the Lord. Remember, someone elses blessing, maybe even your own, could depend on you personally obeying the Lord. Think about it.

Waiting to board the plane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say this because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.

I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.

I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport... an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?

There I sat, trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.

Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.

I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.

"Oh, no, God, please, no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"

There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man, not now. I'll do it on the plane."

Then I heard it... "I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."

The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainer. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am going to witness to this man."

Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."

I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"

God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Timothy 3:17) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.

Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies.

I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"

He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"

"May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that." At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"

At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to."

Are you kidding? Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush."

"I have one in my bag," he responded.

I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls, like I'd done with my own girls in this condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.

A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.

I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I – for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.

His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"

He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures, I thought. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it.

Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.

I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?"

I said, "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on, but you feel too responsible to budge.

He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... all because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.

John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."

Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting, "Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!"

Butch O'Hare & Easy Eddie

World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to an aircraft carrier in the South Pacific.

One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank. He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet. As he was returning to the mother ship, he saw something that turned his blood cold. A squadron of Japanese Zeroes was speeding its way toward the American fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor, could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.

There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet. Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes.

Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch weaved in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until finally all his ammunition was spent. Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the Zeroes, trying to at least clip off a wing or tail, in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly. He was desperate to do anything he could to keep them from reaching the American ships. Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.

Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier. Upon arrival he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He was recognized as a hero and given one of the nation's highest military honors. And today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.

Story number two:

Some years earlier there was a man in Chicago called Easy Eddie. At that time, Al Capone virtually owned the city. Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. His exploits were anything but praiseworthy. He was, however, notorious for enmeshing the city of Chicago in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.

Easy Eddie was Capone's lawyer and for a good reason. He was very good! In fact, his skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time. To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big; Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago city block. Yes, Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him. Eddy did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddy saw to it that his young son had the best of everything; clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Yes, Eddie tried to teach his son to rise above his own sordid life. He wanted him to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things that Eddie couldn't give his son. Two things that Eddie sacrificed to the Capone mob that he could not pass on to his beloved son: a good name and a good example.

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Offering his son a good name was far more important than all the riches he could lavish on him. He had to rectify all the wrong that he had done. He would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Scar-face Al Capone. He would try to clean up his tarnished name and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this he must testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great. But more than anything, he wanted to be an example to his son. He wanted to do his best to make restoration and hopefully have a good name to leave his son.

So, he testified. Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago street. He had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer at the greatest price he would ever pay.

I know what you're thinking. What do these two stories have to do with one another? Well, you see, Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddie's son.

Do what you can

This Story Will Give You Chills - Makes You Stop And Think: God has a way of allowing us to be in the right place at the right time.

I was walking down a dimly lit street late one evening when I heard muffled screams coming from behind a clump of bushes. Alarmed, I slowed down to listen and panicked when I realized that what I was hearing were the unmistakable sounds of a struggle: heavy grunting, frantic scuffling and tearing of fabric. Only yards from where I stood, a woman was being attacked.

Should I get involved? I was frightened for my own safety and cursed myself for having suddenly decided to take a new route home that night. What if I became another statistic? Shouldn't I just run to the nearest phone and call the police?

Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations in my head had taken only seconds, but already the cries were growing weaker. I knew I had to act fast. How could I walk away from this? No, I finally resolved, I could not turn my back on the fate of this unknown woman, even if it meant risking my own life. I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don't know where I found the moral courage and physical strength-but once I had finally resolved to help the girl, I became strangely transformed. I ran behind the bushes and pulled the assailant off the woman. Grappling, we fell to the ground, where we wrestled for a few minutes until the attacker jumped up and escaped.

Panting hard, I scrambled upright and approached the girl, who was crouched behind a tree, sobbing. In the darkness, I could barely see her outline, but I could certainly sense her trembling shock. Not wanting to frighten her further, I at first spoke to her from a distance. "It's OK," I said soothingly. "The man ran away. You're safe now."

There was a long pause and then I heard the words, uttered in wonder, in amazement. "Dad, is that you?" And then, from behind the tree, stepped my youngest daughter, Katherine.

****************************

Do all the good you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as you ever can.

Hole in One

As a young man, Norton was an exceptional golfer. At the age of 26, however, he decided to become a priest, and joined a rather peculiar Order. He took the usual vows of poverty, chastity, but his Order also required that he quit golf and never play again. This was particularly difficult for Norton, but he agreed and was finally ordained a priest.

One Sunday morning, the Reverend Father Norton woke up and realizing it was an exceptionally beautiful and sunny early spring day, decided he just had to play golf. So... he told the Associate Pastor that he was feeling sick and convinced him to say Mass for him that day. As soon as the Associate Pastor left the room, Father Norton headed out of town to a golf course about forty miles away. This way he knew he wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone he knew from his parish.

Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was Sunday morning and everyone else was in church! At about this time, Saint Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down from the heavens and exclaimed, "You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?" The Lord sighed, and said, "No, I guess not."

Just then Father Norton hit the ball and it shot straight towards the pin, dropping just short of it, rolled up and fell into the hole. It WAS A 420 YARD HOLE IN ONE! St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked, "Why did you let him do that?" The Lord smiled and replied,

"Who’s he going to tell?"

A Wonderful Story

It was an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived andeverything was alive with color. But a cold front from the North had broughtwinter's chill back to Indiana. I sat with two friends in the picture windowof a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town square.

The food andthe company were both especially good that day.

As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street.There, walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying all hisworldly goods on his back. He was carrying, a well-worn sign that read, "Iwill work for food." My heart sank. I brought him to the attention of myfriends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him.

Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued with ourmeal, but his image lingered in my mind. We finished our meal and went ourseparate ways.

I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced towardthe town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor.

I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call some response. Idrove through town and saw nothing of him. I made some purchases at a storeand got back in my car. Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking tome: "Don't go back to the office until you've at least driven once morearound the square." And so, with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. AsI turned the square's third corner. I saw him.

He was standing on the steps of the storefront church, going through hissack. I stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yetwanting to drive on.

The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: aninvitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the town's newestvisitor.

"Looking for the pastor?" I asked.

"Not really," he replied, "just resting."

"Have you eaten today?"

"Oh, I ate something early this morning."

"Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Do you have some work I could do for you?"

"No work," I replied. "I commute here to work from the city, but I would like to take you to lunch."

"Sure," he replied with a smile.

As he began to gather his things. I asked some surface questions.

"Where you headed?"

"St. Louis."

"Where you from?"

"Oh, all over; mostly Florida."

"How long you been walking?"

"Fourteen years," came the reply.

I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the samerestaurant I had left earlier. His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence andarticulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a brightred T-shirt that said, "Jesus is The Never Ending Story."

Then Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life.He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences.

Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were puttingup a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought. He was hired,but the tent would not house a concert but revival services, and in thoseservices he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God.

"Nothing'sbeen the same since," he said, "I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking,and so I did, some 14 years now." "Ever think of stopping?" I asked.

"Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me.

But God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles. That's what's in mysack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spiritleads."

I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission andlived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then Iasked: "What's it like?" "What?" "To walk into a town carrying all yourthings on your back and to show your sign?"

"Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments.Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture thatcertainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling torealize that God was using me to touch lives and change people's concepts ofother folks like me."

My concept was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered histhings. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and said, "Comeye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I've prepared for you. Forwhen I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, astranger and you took me in."

I felt as if we were on holy ground.

"Could you use another Bible?" I asked.

He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not tooheavy. It was also his personal favorite. "I've read through it 14 times," he said.

"I'm not sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by our church and see."I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemedvery grateful.

"Where you headed from here?"

"Well, I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon."

"No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star rightthere needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next." He smiled, and thewarmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. I drove him backto the town square where we'd met two hours earlier, and as we drove, itstarted raining. We parked and unloaded his things.

"Would you sign my autograph book?" he asked.

"I like to keep messages from folks I meet."

I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched mylife. I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse ofscripture from Jeremiah, "I know the plans I have for you," declared theLord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you.Plans to give you a future and a hope."

"Thanks, man," he said. "I know we just met and we're really just strangers,but I love you."

"I know," I said, "I love you, too."

"The Lord is good." "Yes, He is. How long has it been since someone huggedyou?" I asked.

"A long time," he replied.

And so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and Iembraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed.

He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, "See you inthe New Jerusalem."

"I'll be there!" was my reply.

He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from hisbed roll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned and said, "When you seesomething that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?"

"You bet," I shouted back, "God bless."

"God bless."

And that was the last I saw of him. Late that evening as I left my office,the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard upon the town.

I bundled up and hurried to my car. As I sat back and reached for theemergency brake, I saw them... a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatlylaid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and thought of myfriend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them. Iremembered his words:

"If you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?"

Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the worldand its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours withmy unique friend and to pray for his ministry. "See you in the NewJerusalem," he said. Yes, Daniel, I know I will...

If this story touched you, forward it to a friend! "I shall pass this waybut once. Therefore, any good that I can do or any kindness that I can show,let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way again."

Rocks in Our Life

A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and a shiny, red plastic shovel. In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox.

The boy dug around the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With a little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy, and the rock was very large.)

When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox however, he found that he couldn't roll it up and over the little wall. Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into the sandbox.

The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, & shoved; but his only reward was to have the rock roll back, smashing his chubby fingers.

Finally he burst into tears of frustration. All this time the boy's father watched from his living room window as the drama unfolded.

At the moment the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and the sandbox. It was the boy's father. Gently but firmly he said, "Son, why didn't you use all the strength that you had available?"

Defeated, the boy sobbed back, "But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the strength that I had!"

"No, son," corrected the father kindly. "You didn't use all the strength you had. You didn't ask me."

With that the father reached down, picked up the rock and removed it from the sandbox.

Do you have "rocks" in your life that need to be removed? Are you discovering that you don't have what it takes to lift them? There is One who is always available to us and willing to give us the strength we need.

Isn't it funny how we try so hard to do things ourselves. Sadly, many adults who have been religious for years are trying to do everything themselves and only turning to God as a last resort. God wants to be your first resort. Let Him help you with your trials, tribulations and temperament. God loves you. Let Him help.

What Are You Worth?

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?"

Hands started going up.

He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this.

He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air.

Well, he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.

He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty.

"Now, who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air. My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.

We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you.

The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE and WHOSE WE ARE.

You are special- Don't EVER forget it."

1901 versus 2001

Now that the 21st century has finally arrived, it might be fun to look back at the beginning of the last century and see what it was like. The contrast is awesome. Read on!

• The average life expectancy in the United States was 47.
• Only 14% of the homes in the United States had a bathtub.
• Only 8% of the homes had a telephone. A 3 minute call from Denver to New York City cost $11.
• There were only 8,000 cars in the US and 144 miles of paved roads. The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
• Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million residents, California was only the twenty first most populous state in the Union.
• The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
• The average wage in the US was twenty-two cents an hour. The average US worker made between $200 and $400 per year. A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2500 per year, a veterinarian between $1500 and $4000 per year and a mechanical engineer about $5000 per year.
• More than 95% of all births in the United States took place at home.
• Ninety percent of all US physicians had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and by the government as "substandard."
• Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee cost fifteen cents a pound.
• Most women only washed their hair once a month and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
• Canada passed a law prohibiting poor people from entering the country for any reason, either as travelers or immigrants.
• The five leading causes of death in the US were
  1. Pneumonia and influenza
  2. Tuberculosis
  3. Diarrhea
  4. Heart disease
  5. Stroke
• The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.
• Drive-by shootings -- in which teenage boys on horseback galloped down the street, andomly shooting at houses, carriages, and anything else that caught their fancy -- were an ongoing problem in Denver and other cities in the west.
• The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was thirty. The remote desert community was inhabited by only a handful of ranchers and their families.
• Plutonium, insulin, and antibiotics hadn't been discovered yet.
• Scotch tape, crossword puzzles, canned beer and iced tea hadn't been invented.
• There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.
• One in ten US adults couldn't read or write. Only 6% of all Americans had graduated from high school.
• Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at corner drugstores.