West Coast Story

Dr. Cecil Shotwell took a deep breath of the fresh California air as he walked down the porch steps of his general practice office at the corner of Genesee and Sunset Boulevard and headed home for lunch. Passing neighbors on the way, he tipped his hat as he strolled underneath the oak canopy that let in streams of sunlight like Hollywood spotlights through the shade on Genesee Street.

Half a block down, Mrs. Shotwell set the good doctor’s soup and sandwich on the kitchen table. She would ask how his day was going, and inquire with care and concern about each of his patients. This scene was repeated daily for many years, as was the next one.

Visits to his eldest daughter, Cecille, his namesake, were enjoyable times to spend with four of the doctor’s grandchildren. Sitting out on the back porch of his daughter’s home, Dr. Shotwell was joined by his grandson, Mike. Cecille married a kind and gentle man, Robert. Mike was the third child of the four born to Cecille and Bob. Together, Grandpa and Mike watched the airplanes fly overhead on approach into LAX. Mike loved airplanes and Grandpa Shotwell listened intently as he told him all about each airplane.

Mike grew up and became a pilot. Over the years he flew many places, logging several thousand hours of flight time. He would share his adventures with Grandpa, and with his parents too.

Fast forward through many years of wonderful memory-making; Mike’s grandma had moved to heaven, and Dr. Shotwell soon joined his lovely bride. They were survived by children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Mike was in his thirties, flying for a living when his dad was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. Mike flew home every weekend to see his dad during the next two months. But when the call came, Mike was in Utah. He made it back for the funeral.

The years ambled on and Mike had fallen in love and married. He immersed himself in her life and her family, proving that nothing but God was more important to him than her. His new bride often commented that she wished she could have met Bob. All Mike’s stories about his dad were full of love and adventure. Having had an affectionate father herself, she appreciated Mike’s longing for his dad, and his reminiscing, like how Bob would wake Mike for school each day with a kiss. She could tell Bob had been a wonderful father and surmised this is where Mike received his gentle and loving nature.

Ten years since saying good-bye to his dad, to honor him, to reflect on his character and love of his family, Mike took the Love of his life to sunny Southern California for a very special visit.

Standing over their graves, Mike lovingly placed flowers in memory of Dr. and Mrs. Shotwell, and Bob Ely. Yearning for his dad, the ache of missing a man so important made his heart heavy. “I miss him,” he whispered.

Pulling his new bride close under his right arm, he extended his left arm toward his father’s grave. “Dad,” he choked, and paused while the tears flowed, “this is my wife.”

His introduction resonated with her the rest of the day, as he took her on a tour of special places in the city. This was not the Los Angeles everyone else knows. These were the good places, the private places, the places where a man’s heart and mind were formed, where he grew up, his childhood home, his grandparents’ home, his school, and airports.


Thank you, Mike, for sharing your life with me.
Love,
Linda