Charles Mayfield was a family hero who was much admired, and wound up on a Kentucky-style ranch raising show horses after a long career as a petroleum geologist and geophysics mapper. He was gracious, handsome, a letterman, a fraternity brother, a professional, and a movie star on the stage of life from moment-to-moment, it seemed. He suffered some from ulcers, however, perhaps from tensions he encountered in the course of his work. He was always at Thanksgiving and Christmas parties, and sometimes we went out to Chuck & Maggie's place to practice a one-and-a-half off the board of his backyard swimming pool. (Horseshoe lake was more like it for youth, though. There my high school class and our friends could lift weights in the sand and go whirling for a dive from a gymnast's swing. Allan "See-V" could snatch 175 lb. with one hand, and I could jerk 180 lb. the same way!) Charles Mayfield: World War II Navy veteran, like John, a high school letterman in wrestling, politically strong in his fraternity, and a successful geologist and geophysics mapper. He had moved among us with rare grace and competence.

This is where Uncle Chuck kept his wall full of maps and charts he had prepared on petroleum geology, which brought him substantial material success in the field. He managed to hit oil often enough to move out to a ranch for show horses that he raised. He died at 49 after a horse kicked him, however, so he found horses even worse for him than they were for Christopher Reeve. I'll never forget the feeling of black grief I felt when Uncle Chuck died. We all sat in the living room at the old Mayfield house on Fairmount full of a deep black feeling of loss. Uncle Chuck was a good example, it seemed, slim, handsome, successful, always hopping into a new suit of clothes, always fun to be with and a great personality. I learned you grieve for yourself from a response deep in the autonomic nervous system, that it is a response with semi-automatic features, like the kick of a leg hit just below the knee with a physician's hammer, as if you were suddenly really less secure and knew it. The funeral was an open-casket affair, a big one in the mausoleum just across the street from Wichita State University, where Uncle Chuck studied petroleum geology, becoming one of their most successful examples of what college education can lead to. I guess the Quiring - Old Mission Mausoleum might have reminded Greg of Lenin's Tomb, which he meant to burlesque on Ground Hog Day, also dying from a concussion somewhat like his glorious father. Above,Top: Aunt Maggie Mayfield and Susan's Father Paul Hull. Above, Bottom: Uncle Chuck and Aunt Maggie lived with Kathleen East of Town.

Above: Mom and Dad were married in the Chapel at the First Presbyterian Church.
See also Green and the Great Religions.

The Presbyterian and Episcopalian churches were attended by George Washington as I recall, and just across the street from the 1st Presbyterian Church we have The Twentieth Century Club, and that is just catty-corner from the Commodore Hotel, which resembles a box with buttons on it. Dad's Boy Scout troupe met at the church, where he became an Eagle scout. Actually, Dad seemed prefer the University and loved to read American history, and liked to hang out at Sims Park to play golf and cards when he was not working or studying, finding the church a bit too hungry for his fortune, perhaps. Mom took me to church until I was 12, and I remember swimming in the church camp pool and walking in the surrounding woods as a child. Dad read the Winston Churchill series on World War II, the immense Carl Sandberg biography of Abraham Lincoln, a multi-volume biography of Robert E. Lee, science fiction from Robert Heinlein, practical books, and had a fascinating collection of volumes that I also looked into. Grandad and Grandma prided themselves on their good sense in collecting National Geographic, with its great photography and emphasis on exploration and discovery, and Grandma Green was worried if she found me reading an odd piece of science fiction with a 4-eyed monster on the cover instead of something realistic, historical, or traditional. We were Christians who applauded Christian charity and forgiveness, but modern, practical people. Susan and I were married on the Campus of Wichita State University, in the Interfaith Chapel. Now that further children would not have grandparents, I am primarily interested in marriage for fun and partnership, myself, and to help guard children from prior marriages. Grandparents help make children secure. I felt my parents were wise to equip us with strong and neighboring grandparent teams. Children deserve grandparents. They provide plenty of social diversity for kids and a deeper sense of security.

The desk shown next to this line was on in John's second floor bedroom, which had a long row of windows on the South side of the house. It was at this desk that I wrote the 7th edition of Gravitation & the Electroform Model, although the manuscript shown in the photo is Thermonuclear Fusion in Stars. I had a wonderful time ruminating over the ultimate equations of physics here, and the sunsets in the West window were really something to see. It was a great place to be for a few months one year, and I even managed to slip in a couple of girlfriends over the years, so that I was quite personally attached to it. Somehow, however, it has not remained with the family, but is being used by other people who find it useful.