The Condo News print newspaper is published every other Wednesday. It is circulated throughout Palm Beach County, from Delray to North Palm Beach, and from Singer Island, Palm Beach and South Palm Beach to Royal Palm Beach, in Condominium, Cooperative and Home Owner Association Communities. For more information, or to have the Condo News  brought to your community, e-mail us or write to: P.O. Box 15826, West Palm Beach, FL 33416. Tel:(561) 471-0329

Condo News Online Special Features Page


On this page: 

• Nature's Beauty - Photos

• Condo Pet of the Week (2015-2016)

• Condo Art Corner - (2015-2016)

• Condo Pet of the Week (2014)

• A Tribute to My (late) Father,

 Part 1 - An outline of his career

Part 2 - My Early Education as an Army Brat

Part 3 - MASH in Korea: My Dad Goes to War

• 150th Anniversary of the Battle of Olustee, Fla.

~ A Moment in Time by Bernard Weixelbaum, reprinted from Condo News March 14, 2001

• Profile: Meet Lynelle Chauncey Zelnar -- founder of Forgotten Soldiers Outreach

• Condo Art Corner - 2014

• Reflections of Mother

Parts 1 & 2

a two-part series by Betty Thomas, Condo News Publisher


Last updated 01/06/2022


Nature's Beauty

Photo by Jimmy Shirley

This fawn was spotted by Condo News photographer Jimmy Shirley at Okeeheelee Nature Center in West Palm Beach.

Condo Pet of the Week - 2015-2016

Ryan Levinson lives in Springdale Homes with Benji, his lab/mastiff mix.

Benji is 11 years old. Ryan adopted Benji, a rescue dog, 7 years ago.

Photo by Jimmy Shirley

Sake, a 1½ year old Shitzu, lives with his owner Sarah Knowles. They have lived at Dorchester N. condominium on S. Ocean Blvd., Palm Beach, for 10 months. Sarah came to Palm Beach from Vero Beach where she lived for 40 years.

Condo Art Corner - 2015-2016

We invite you to submit a photo of art that you have created -- 

painting, sculpture, drawing, artistic photo, carving, etc. 

Please submit your item as a .jpg with 300ppi resolution 

by email to:

In the subject line please type "Art Corner." 

Include a title for your item and the medium you used.

Submissions will appear first in our print paper 

and then on our website. 

Amateur artists only, please.

"English Street Scene"

Acrylic on canvas

by Lee Malkin

Mr. Malkin paints with the Silver Eagles at the Palm Beach Mid County Senior Center on Lake Worth Road, Lake Worth. The Silver Eagles is an art class for seniors offered at the Center. They paint on Mondays from 8:30 am to 12 noon.

Mr. Malkin is a resident of Arbors on Cresthaven Blvd.,

 West Palm Beach, and has been painting for 7 years.


A 3D picture, or collage, using clippings from magazines and other media. "Dimensions" is a picture of Times Square in New York, explains artist Saul Tilson. He cuts out different pieces of art from magazines and pastes them on a surface to build his picture. His friends also give him pictures he may want to use for his art form. He has many other 3-D pictures on the walls of his home at Poinciana Community Center in Lake Worth, FL.

"Beach House"

Acrylic Water Color

By Loyal E. Whiteside, age 92. Mr. Whiteside never painted until he moved to Lake Worth Gardens where he has been a member of their art class since 2012. He has always been color blind, yet his choice of colors is spot on.

Condo Pet of the Week (2014)


Photo by Jimmy Shirley

Eli is a 12 year old red field lab rescue dog and certified emotional support dog. He lives with his owner, Doug Ramsey and Doug’s wife Kelly at the Dorchester South condominium on South Ocean Blvd. in Palm Beach. The Ramseys have lived at the Dorchester for 2 months after moving from Wellington where they lived for 10 years. The couple have been in business making custom furniture for 28 years.

Lt. Col James A. Bell 

1915 - 1981

U.S. Army Medical Corps

A Tribute to My (late) Father

By Betty Thomas

(June 11, 2014)

Part 1 - Outline:

My dad was an army brat born in San Antonio's Ft. Sam Houston Army base. His father was an officer in the U.S. Army for 30 years and helped Pershing chase Pancho Villa across Texas. My father as a child spent many years (9) in Manila where my grandfather was stationed.

It was expected that my dad would follow in his father’s footsteps. He chose the medical corps as his career. He took his pre-med in Ann Arbor, Mich., where grandpa was stationed, and studied medicine at the University of Santo Tomas in Manila. Then, at the University of Texas School of Medicine in Galveston, he got his M.D. It was there that he met and married my mother, and where I was born.

Dad did his internship at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC. During this time, I stayed with my grandparents in Dallas, Texas.

He was then transferred to Carlisle Barracks, Carlisle, PA, at the Medical Field Service School (MFSS). This is where interns and medics were trained to be officers. He went into the school as a 2nd Lt. and finished as a 1st Lt. Carlisle Barracks was not attached to any other unit, therefore, the doctors were allowed to be armed. During this tour of duty, my mother traveled to Texas to bring me to Carlisle.

(** Photos are frames extracted from my father's 8mm movie film.)

In 1945, my father was sent to Germany as part of the occupational troops. He was attached to the 98th General Hospital in Munich. Mother and I followed in July 1946. I was 4½ years old. (Pictured at right: Dad aboard the military transport ship on the way to Munich.)** 

We lived in Munich for about two years (mother and I) and dad had been there for 1 year before us. In 1948, we were transferred to Bad Tölz, to the (Flint) Kaserne and my father was promoted to Captain. 

While in Bad Tölz, my father had custody of Franz von Papen (pictured at right in center), a German politician and diplomat from the Catholic Center Party. Papen served the German government as Ambassador to Austria from 1934-1944. He was captured by the allies after the war and was one of the defendants at the Main Nuremberg War Crimes Trial, but was acquitted. 

My father’s responsibility was to keep von Papen healthy and fit so he could be tried.

In 1949, we were transferred to the Presidio in San Francisco, Fitzsimmons Hospital. Dad was promoted to Major and served as commander of the hospital. We remained there for a year when we were transferred to an area near Concord, California. Soon, Dad got his orders and was sent to command a M*A*S*H hospital. He was involved in the Hungnam evacuation. He served in Korea for two years, until 1952.

When he returned from Korea, we were transferred to Ft. MacArthur in San Pedro, California, where he took command of that hospital. We were there for 1 year.

From there, we went to Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas, where Dad, again, took command of the base hospital. Dad was promoted to Lt. Colonel.

Our next tour of duty was in Washington DC at the U.S. Soldiers’ Home (now the U.S. Soldiers’ and Airmen’s Home). By now, I was in the 7th grade. My father was deputy chief surgeon. I spent a good deal of my spare time down at the hospital with the Daughters of Charity nuns (they were the nurses at the hospital) and some of the patients with whom I had become friends. I was profoundly inspired by these men. There were 3 wards in this wing. Wards 7 & 8 had the "normal" patients. Ward 9 was where the mental cases were. Dad only let me go up there when he did his rounds. One day, one of the Ward 9 patients was shuffling down the hall mumbling to himself: "I’ve been in this man’s army 34 years. I’ve seen ‘em kilt, buried and blown up again. I’ve been in ..." I realized that combat may scar a man’s soul for life.

One day, Dad called home and asked me to come down to the hospital right away. He had someone there he wanted me to meet -- a new patient. This man was in a small private room. He was very old. He had been severely wounded by a grenade during his combat years. He had lost his eyes, part of his jaw, and both hands half way up to his elbows. Dad asked him to show me how he puts oil on his head; then how he drinks his soup (in a cup). Then dad told me that he makes his own bed all by himself. The man concurred. Dad said to me, "He has no eyes or hands and still he makes his own bed. You have two eyes and two hands. Why can’t you make your own bed?" Point well made, and taken.

After Dad left the Soldiers’ Home, he was stationed for a year at Ft. Meade in Maryland. We moved to Riverdale, Md., where my parents bought their first house. After 1½ years, we got orders for Germany. But, after packing and shipping our furniture over, our orders were changed and we were redirected to Teheran, Iran. There, dad was attached to Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG). The United States Army Mission Headquarters (ARMISH) was also there. They provided the Ministry of War and the Iranian army with advisory and technical assistance to enhance their efficiency. MAAG was established to administer the program. Later, the two missions were consolidated into ARMISH-MAAG and remained active until the Islamic revolution in 1979. Basically, my dad’s job was to examine the Shah’s air force pilots. His command was a 25-bed hospital for the American dependents and personnel, in which I promptly became a patient of before he took command with a terrible case of what was called the "T-Ts" (Teheran Tummy). Actually, I now think it was e-coli that I picked up in Italy at the California Cafe from a really under-cooked hamburger.

My experience in Teheran was a real eye-opener. I went to the Community High School run by Presbyterian missionaries, whose students were all college bound. The lessons were in English. Students were Iranians, Arabs, Jewish, Russian, Polish, Romanian, Iraqi, East Indian, etc. The Americans there (except for me) were either American Embassy kids, Esso employees kids, or other civilian businessmen’s children. They seemed very snobbish to me. I really liked the International group better.

We returned to the U.S. after one year and Dad was stationed at the Pentagon. Shortly after our return, my parents separated, and after 4 years, divorced. See, things were never the same after Korea. War does that. Dad retained his rank of Lt. Col. until his retirement after 25 years of service.

Being an only child, I would often spend spare time reading Dad’s medical books. Dad suffered from chronic bleeding colitis after Korea and was not given enough time to recover completely before being given command of the hospital he had been a patient in -- Fitzsimmons in San Francisco. He was a very compassionate man -- to a fault. He often mourned a patient he lost, and would talk about it at home -- even cry. I saw his agony manifested and what I now know to be PTSD which went untreated by the then VA. In 1981, he suffered a massive myocardial infarction (heart attack). He had remarried and had a son with his second wife, Alma, also a veteran.

My childhood was not the usual kind, but I learned much from our travels, from other cultures and from my father’s compassion. I saw his love for his veteran-patients that he demonstrated every day.



(June 25, 2014)

Part 2 - My Early Education as an Army Brat ...

In Part 1, I introduced you to my late father who was a career Army Medical officer. The article outlined his career of 25 years.

I would like to pause at the various stations and share a little of that experience with you.

Once Dad completed his training at the Army War College in Carlisle, PA, he was sent to war-torn Germany as part of the post-war occupational troops. That was some time in 1945. Once it was deemed safe for the dependents, mother and I were set to join him in Munich. However, a few days before we were scheduled to sail, I became ill with a high fever and mother put me in the base hospital. I remember being in a crib with bars. Mother told me we couldn’t go until I was well. The next day, the fever was gone and we would be on our way. I was about 4 years old. We sailed on the Ben Alexander, a military transport ship that, as mother told me later, had a round bottom instead of a keel. It was very unsteady and rolled around a lot.

** Photos are frames extracted from my father's 8mm movie film.

 Sunken ship in German harbor**

Bombed German coastline**

Photo of German bridges reportedly destroyed by Gen. Patton.

Photo of German fighter jet - the Messerschmidt. was the world's first operational jet powered aircraft.

When we arrived at our destination in Germany, evidence of the war was all around. The harbor was littered with sunken ships, the landscape was reduced to piles of rubble, and there was a stench. When on the transport bus that took us to meet "Daddy", I remember seeing a woman with a wool "babushka" (scarf) on her head picking through the rubble. I also remember asking mother what that awful smell was. She explained that it was from the bombed-out buildings and everything that was in them. Death.

In Munich, our house, which had been appropriated by the U.S. Military, had belonged to a friend of Adolph Hitler. It was a big two-story house with a basement. I don’t remember the basement, but mother told me it had a lot of Oriental art stored in it. Also, part of the roof had been blown off. There were burned marks on some of the upstairs floors. Mother kept a garden in the back yard with flowers and some vegetables. I remember rhubarb. It looked like red celery.

Betty in Bavarian 

traditional outfit

(age approx. 5 years old)

The economic situation in the country was as one might expect -- no currency, no gasoline, cities leveled. Quite austere. The locals did what they could to make money. Many took scrap iron from the bombed buildings to fashion items they could barter with on the black market, others painted on whatever materials they had available. My parents purchased many paintings and a lovely wrought iron table with ceramic tiles from all of the factories, including Meisen, with Alpine flowers painted on them. Our "currency" consisted of cigarettes, stockings, chocolate, etc. One day while I was at a friend’s house, a German man came with two little dachshund puppies, one red and one black. I was "fixed" on the black one, and when the little girls’ mother opted for the red puppy, I scooped up the black one and, followed by the German man, ran home and breathlessly declared to my mother, "This is a little black puppy, and I always wanted a little black puppy, and he only costs 5 packs." (It was actually 5 cartons, but what does a 5 year old child know about "money?") We had Ricky for 11 years.

** Photos are frames extracted from my father's 8mm movie film.

Car with "still" attached**

Truck with "still" attached**

Horse and buggy -- 

no need for a "still" **

To provide fuel for vehicles, and being that the only ones that had gasoline were the occupational forces, the Germans used stills that burned wood and looked like hot water heaters attached to their vehicles. (See photos on page 6). Apparently, that was customary throughout Europe at the time.

There were no schools for the dependent children, so the wives formed a nursery school and kindergarten. I learned my first "cut and paste" there. Those familiar with publishing before computers will appreciate that. Mother took language classes to learned German and I learned it as a matter of course. It was the Bayerisch (pronounced Buyerish) dialect spoken in Bavaria. Once in the U.S., I refused to speak German -- I was an American! That is unfortunate in that I lost that language.

Some time while in Munich, Mother and Dad, and another couple, took a 6 week vacation to Italy. I was left behind with Annie, the woman who took care of the house and me. I remember missing them so much, but Annie was a very loving woman. She kept up correspondence with my parents for a while after we returned to the U.S. Dad, Mother and their friends, the Escolas, met Pope Pius XII while in Italy. They also went skiing there and in Germany, as well as hunting. Pheasant, duck and deer were in their sights. Ricky, our dog, turned out to be an excellent hunter, too. He would flush out the pheasant for them. I remember a particular duck my father brought home. He was a beautiful mallard with a green head. I was so upset at the death of this magnificent creature that I asked for the head to keep. They allowed it and I would pet the poor thing and then put him in a cubby where the telephone was for a while and retrieve him later. But, alas, as my parents expected, poor duck began to stink. So I asked my parents to dispose of him. Being that I was small, I remember a lot about my mother’s clothes (mostly from the vantage of my height). I clearly remember her shoes and ski boots, and the "British Walkers" she wore. (A thick heeled medium high shoe.)

We stayed in Munich for about 2 years before being transferred to Bad Tolz -- the Kasserne, as the base was called. There was less destruction there. I went to first grade where I remember being taught German script. Our stay in Bad Tolz seemed uneventful in my memory.

In 1949, we were transferred back stateside. We sailed on the General Patton via the North Sea. We encountered a force-12 gale and, according to mother, ships were going down all around us. I remember one morning we were waiting for the second breakfast seating when a wave broke through a window and swamped two sailors with seaweed and mud. I have a picture in my mind of the waiter holding a tray, trying to keep his balance with seawater, seaweed, fish and mud rushing back and forth on the floor and one cream pitcher rolling around. I don’t remember if we got to eat.

Being an only child of a military officer in post-war Germany was an experience that gave me an understanding of the world quite different than the usual. I think it still affects my view of the world’s conflicts and man’s struggle to adapt to ever-changing scenarios. For sure, I feel fortunate for the education.

To be continued ...


(July 9, 2014)

MASH in Korea — My Dad Goes to Korea

In 1949, my father was transferred stateside, to the Presidio in San Francisco and became the commanding officer of Fitzsimmons General Hospital there. We stayed there until mid 1950 when we were transferred to Concord, Calif. The Concord Army Air Base was located there and served as a staging area for troops who were being deployed to Korea.

Dad was the first commanding officer of the 1st MASH unit in Korea at the beginning of the war and stayed until it ended. I remember mother sending him the Sunday "Terry and the Pirates" comic strip, as well as other items he needed. One of those was an electric razor because the shaving cream would freeze in the winter. They could hook the shavers up to the Jeep’s battery.

While there, my Dad made use of his movie camera, documenting what he could during the lulls. He also brought home lots of photos. Here are some of them - some from the movie film..


Field Army Medical Service (MASH)

Mobile Army Surgical Hospitals (MASH), operated under tents close to the divisions they supported


A photograph of Dad’s MASH unit.

A frame taken from 

Dad’s movie film depicting 

Dad's MASH unit.

Incoming wounded arriving by air transport. Patients were treated by medics on the battle field, then they were sent to a battalion aid station before being transported to the MASH unit for more extensive treatment.

Patient being loaded onto an "ambulance"

Local children often earned some money by offering to shine the boots of the MASH doctors. Here, Dad is getting his boots shined by the local children. Notice a small camp dog next to Dad.

An interesting clip on Dad’s movie film was a tank battle sequence filmed from a vantage point on a hill. Pictured here is a frame from the film showing a tank headed for the battle. 

Another frame of the tank battle shows several tanks and the puffs of smoke where their mortar is landing, clearing the way for the ground troops.

This frame shows troops on the ground following the tanks into battle and one tank bringing up the rear.

The USO Arrives in Korea:


Errol Flynn, center of photo, was part of the U.S.O. team. Dad was there with his movie camera when they arrived. Errol Flynn is seen leaning on his cane. He had a very bad limp then.

Errol Flynn smiles broadly 

at the camera

Jack Benny came over to say a few words to the camera (Dad's). Too bad there was no sound. (Errol Flynn can be seen in the background)

Jack Benny and others near one of the cars that would take them to the camp site.

Betty Grable, Errol Flynn  and others.

Betty Grable

Betty Grable in center with two blonde entertainers. 

(Can anyone identify the two blonde gals with Betty Grable?)

Fans of the TV series, M*A*S*H, may remember Jamie Farr’s character, the cross-dressing Corporal Klinger who was hoping to get discharged from the Army by wearing women’s clothes. 

There was a real-life female impersonator shown in this photograph. Very convincing, said my father.


Frames from Dad’s "home movies" --

A note about the frames extracted from Dad’s movie film ... I had enlisted a company whose business it was to make video transcripts from court testimony to transcribe my parents’ home movies that were taken with their 8mm camera over a span of about 13 years. The fellow told me that it took hours and became somewhat tedious (I had about 16 reels of film. Mother had edited and spliced all their movies into that collection.) Then, suddenly, on my "home movies" -- up popped Errol Flynn, Jack Benny, Betty Grable -- and they said they were agast! What a treasure, they told me. (The process cost me over $300.00, but I made copies for my children.) I had them put on DVD, then selected frames to be extracted from the videos. The frames are blurry, but, at least we can see the images of those events.



150th Anniversary of the Battle of Olustee, Fla, Feb. 20, 2014

By Betty Thomas

Thursday, Feb. 20, 2014 is the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Olustee, the bloodiest battle of the War Between the States (commonly known as the Civil War) in Florida. The following article was written by former Condo News columnist, Bernard Weixelbaum and published in the Condo News on March 14, 2001.

The annual reenactment of that battle took place in Olustee, Florida, this past weekend. Condo News representative, Jimmy Shirley, and I participated in the reenactment (Jimmy and I are long-time reenactors).

A story by Palm Beach Post reporter, Eliot Kleinberg, relating the link that Mr. Weixelbaum and I have through our ancestors, and the connection that we had through the Condo News, appeared in the Post on Saturday, Feb. 15, 2014 on page one of the Local section He and his photographer, Thomas Cordy, covered the reenactment. Another story about the reenactment itself is forthcoming in the Post.

Bernard is now living in New York state with his wife Dickie near their son Elia Weixelbaum. Bernard and I are forever linked through our ancestors’ DNA that fell on that battle field 150 years ago, and through our association in the Condo News. 

Read on ...

A Moment in Time

By Bernard Weixelbaum, 

reprinted from Condo News, March 14, 2001







James Monroe "Bud" Davis

February 20, 2001, was the 137th anniversary of the battle of Olustee, Florida. The year, of course, was 1864. The battle of Olustee, or Ocean Pond as it is also referred to, was a pivotal battle in the Civil War, resulting from an attempt by the Union Army to cut Florida off from the rest of the Confederacy. There were 1861 casualties among the Union soldiers, while the Confederates counted 946. Every year since 1976 there is a commemoration of the battle on the actual battlefield. Thousands of Civil War buffs and descendants of the original protagonists reenact the details of the battle in authentic dress, bearing true replicas of the weaponry.

Back there on that cold February day in 1864, there were 2 men in particular, on opposing sides, of whom I relate. One was a young Jewish immigrant who was born on May 3,1841 in Bavaria, Germany, and had enlisted in New York on July 20, 1862 for a 3 year stint. He trained with Company G, Independents Battalion, Light Infantry, N. Y. Volunteers, an outfit known as "Enfans Perdus" and comprised primarily of men of the same ethnicity. On January 30,1864, upon completion of his training, he joined the 47th Regiment, NY Volunteers, Infantry. He never rose above the rank of private. His opponent was born in Georgia on May 19,1841. On June 26,1861, he enlisted and was mustered into the 19th Georgia Regiment, Co. E, Colquitt’s Brigade. In the course of his military career, he was captured at Fredericksburg, Va. on December 13,1862, but, in what was presumably a prisoner exchange, was released on the following day. Although he had encountered so much action, he, too, remained a private throughout his military career.

On that fateful day of February 20, 1864, Private James Monroe Davis (that was his name), found himself in Olustee, Fl. as part of Co. E, 19th Regiment, fighting a fierce and determined army of blue clad soldiers. Almost directly opposite his position was Co. A of the Union’s 47th Regiment. Of course, this is purely conjecture and highly unlikely and improbable but certainly possible. What if, in the heat of this bloody confrontation, these two men faced each other on the field, simultaneously firing their weapons at each other. Yes, it is entirely possible because, strangely enough, both men were wounded in this battle, each man suffering a thigh wound.

Of course, you can see there are so many other parallels to this history; both men are only 16 days apart in age; both men suffered the same type of wound and both men were taken prisoner though not at the same time. Our young immigrant was captured in this very battle at Olustee and confined in the infamous Andersonville Prison.

You may have wondered why I have singled out these two soldiers. Perhaps you have already guessed that the young German immigrant was my grandfather, Bernhard Weichselbaum, but did you also surmise that James Monroe Davis was the great-great grandfather of the Condo News publisher, Betty Thomas, who has rightfully retained the same justifiable pride in her heritage as I have in mine? One other interesting sidelight, James Monroe Davis died on March 1, 1923, just 3 days before the birth of Jerry Heacock, the former publisher of the Condo News and, consequently, former employer of Betty Thomas.

Meet Lynelle Chauncey Zelnar

Founder of Forgotten Soldiers Outreach

A profile by Betty Thomas

David, Lynelle and Marcia Chauncey


Photo by Jimmy Shirley

(November 27, 2013)

Lynelle Chauncey Zelnar was born in Chicago, Ill., of David and Marcia Chauncey, formerly of Brookline, MA. During our visit with Lynelle and her parents at Lynelle’s home in Lake Worth, Marcia described Lynelle as "the type of child you could have over and over." "She always had a big heart, always giving, always wanting to help others," added David. Her mother described her as having a "social worker’s mentality."

That formula was played out as Lynelle grew from childhood to womanhood, as evidenced by the milestones of her life’s path.

Marcia and David Chauncey with Lynelle, age 3. Photo was taken when David graduated from law school. Mr. Chauncey practiced business and banking law in Chicago and in Florida. He retired in 1999. Mrs. Chauncey was an Elementary school teacher and retired from the Florida system in 1999. She taught from 1959-1999 at University of Chicago Laboratory School and Palm Springs Elementary in Florida up to the time she retired.

During the Vietnam War, when Lynelle was in 3rd grade, she wrote a letter to President Nixon petitioning him to bring our troops home. She recalls that she and her friends would cry upon hearing that someone’s father had been killed.

Lynelle, age 8

In 5th grade, POW bracelets became popular and, Lynelle says, that planted a seed.

When Lynelle was 11 years old, the Chaunceys moved to Palm Beach National in Lake Worth where Lynelle grew up with her younger sisters Heather and Andrea.

L-r: Andrea, David, Lynelle, Heather

and Marcia Chauncey in 1985.

At age 11, in 1975, Lynelle’s sister’s friend came down with cancer. Lynelle organized a "carnival" to raise funds to help with her treatment.

Lynelle continued on her path and pursued a degree in Sociology and worked with delinquent children. She interned at a prison in North Florida and then worked with a short term offender program called Alexander Creek Stop Camp.

Back in Palm Beach County, Lynelle had intended to become a private investigator, but instead became a community association manager.

On August 11, 2001, Lynelle married Bill Baggett, Jr., son of the director of Royal Palm Memorial Gardens, Bill Baggett, Sr. and his wife Bea, who hosted the largest Memorial Day Service and Wreath Presentation ceremony in the state of Florida for many years. Exactly one month after their marriage, 9/11 happened. Then on Oct. 7, 2001, the U.S. launched Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, and then the invasion of Iraq on March 20, 2003. A friend’s son was killed in Iraq and it hit Lynelle hard. It became the catalyst that brought Lynelle to form Forgotten Soldiers Outreach in Oct. 2003. FSO was officially designated a 501c(3) on January 12, 2004.

Good Morning America featured FSO on their show in March 2004, then the media took off with national news, e-mails, phone calls.

At the R.P. Memorial Day ceremony in May 2004, Lynelle and Bill announced the formation of FSO. Lynelle had just learned that she was pregnant. Son Bryson was born Dec. 3, 2004.

Still working for the property management company, a co-worker’s son, Kristopher Knight of Lake Worth, with the 173rd Airborne, was among the first deployment of troops to Iraq. Knight was calling home extremely depressed with what he was seeing, and experiencing, especially when many of his brothers in arms were not receiving much support from home. That was Lynelle’s inspiration to send care packages to Knight and his two buddies. She worked out of the property management offices, after hours with the permission of the owners. Then other friends came to help, then teachers came on board providing letters written by children in their classes. Then, with the deployment of the local National Guard 124th Bravo to Iraq, more names and donations started coming in. They needed more space.

All the necessary legal and accounting services were provided pro bono by an attorney and C.P.A.. Then space was donated in Boynton Beach for collection and packing. FSO began to grow in leaps and bounds. The Veterans Administration came down from Washington, DC, and made a video to be distributed to high schools and VA hospitals throughout the country.

The building they were in went into foreclosure. An anonymous angel came forward with a donated space in Lake Worth.

Another event brought the war in Iraq even closer to home when Luke Shirley, son of Condo News representative /photographer, Jimmy Shirley was wounded by an I.E.D explosion. He lost his right arm and right leg. Luke and his brother Joshua, also deployed in the same area, had been recipients of FSO packages. This renewed FSO’s motivation even through hard financial times.

Lynelle’s marriage to Bill ended in September 2005. In September 2007, she married Mike Zelnar, a retired Air Force Veteran. Zelnar achieved the rank of S/Sgt. and served from October 1981 to January 1992, at Eglin AFB in Florida, Turkey, Germany and Kansas respectively. Mike has worked with Lynelle helping her with FSO as well as his regular work.

Bryson has been attending the Annual Memorial Day Ceremonies hosted by Palm Beach Memorial Park in Lantana, since he was a baby. Since he was 4 years old, Bryson has been leading the 500+ attendees in the Pledge of Allegiance.

In 2010 Lynelle’s nephew, Spc Michael Stansbery, Jr., was killed in Iraq. A recent photo at Arlington Cemetery showed Prince Harry of England, standing next to Stansbery’s grave marker.

This year marks FSO’s 11th Holiday Packing event. "What we’re doing overseas is still vital," said Lynelle. "This October we are hurting more than ever. There are no grants and we rely only on donations," she added.

Zelnar Family, from left to right Lynelle, Mike, Zach, Levi, David & Bryson (in front) Note: Lynelle has 3 step sons, ages, 18, 21 & 25. Son Bryson celebrated his 9th birthday on December 3, 2013.

This year on July 12th, Forgotten Soldiers Outreach opened a new Thrift Store at 3032 Jog Road in Buttonwood Plaza, Greenacres. They had outgrown their former one in the same shopping center. And now, they are running out of room again. They are looking for another angel who can provide a store front with 5,000-6,000 sq. ft.

Their Thrift Store brings FSO full circle by helping vets on the home front. They are still sending packages to all world theaters: Kosovo, Korea, Africa, Somalia, Japan as well as Iraq and Afghanistan ... wherever we have troops deployed. FSO has aligned with FAITH*HOPE*LOVE /Stand Down House, VA HUD-VASH Program and other organizations in assisting veterans and homeless vets through the Thrift Store as they transition back to life here at home with vouchers for furniture and other items. All veterans, old and young, receive 50% OFF every day at the FSO Thrift Store.

They are open 6 days a week, Monday through Saturday from 10AM to 7PM. They feature furniture, household decor, vintage items, clothing, books, knickknacks and more. They offer free pickup of your donated items, also accepting whole estates.

For more information, please call them at (561) 969-2222.


More about Thrift Store opening: Condo News Online - Veterans News


Condo Art Corner

Condo News is introducing a new feature for readers’ participation 

... Condo Art Corner. 

We invite you to submit a photo of art that you have created -- 

painting, sculpture, drawing, artistic photo, carving, etc. 

Please submit your item as a .jpg with 300ppi resolution 

by email to:

In the subject line please type "Art Corner." 

Include a title for your item and the medium you used.

Submissions will appear first in our print paper 

and then on our website. 

Amateur artists only, please.


"Soccer Anyone"


By Nancy Lee

Willow Bend, Lake Worth, FL




A series by Betty Thomas, Condo News Publisher

Mary Virginia Patterson Bell Scott

2/17/1918 - 5/16/2013

Mother's Memorial Wreath displayed at a memorial service conducted by the Order of Confederate Rose members Becki Powell and Kathy Clark with prayers led by Charlie Dennis, in the church at the Yesteryear Village on Sunday, May 26, 2013. The photo was taken at the Yesteryear Village in "better days". Mother was a member of OCR. The wreath was made by Becki Powell.

May 29, 2013

PART 1 of 2

It’s new — it’s raw — and it takes my mind on an excursion into the life of the woman who was my mother ... "my beautiful mommy" ... as I called her when I was a toddler, and back into my life as her daughter, her only child.

Mother passed away two weeks ago. Even though she was 95 years old and severely affected by several strokes, it’s a loss that leaves such a void. There is sadness that she is gone and relief that her long suffering is finally over and she is in a better place. I have been reflecting on my life with mother from my childhood to the present and on her life as well from her childhood. I miss the closeness we had, the places we would go together. I remember calling her from Maryland after she moved to Florida (Ft. Lauderdale) just to ask her help with one of her recipes or how to put a new tape in her IBM Selectric typewriter (she worked in our family business in Maryland). It wasn’t too long before I, too, came to Florida -- and to the Condo News. Then, after her husband died, mother came to Palm Beach County (Greenacres) and we could "buddy up" again.

We would take trips to visit her grandsons (my children) in Virginia and Pennsylvania when each of her great grandchildren were born. She loved to decorate her condo and go to Tuesday Morning and Big Lots. How excited she was when Carpet Mills Direct tiled the floors in the condo. We went to movies together (we roared with laughter all through "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" -- my ex husband is Greek) and she came with me to the Yesteryear Village during the South Florida Fair and to the dinners twice a year that the Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge held. When she moved into her condo at La Pinata, I suggested she take her camera when she went to the clubhouse and take pictures at the parties. She did and found that she quickly made friends. I loved putting pictures that my mother took in the Condo News with "photo by Nikki Scott." She enjoyed her condo and friends for just 6 years. Then it happened.

Mother came to live with me in November 2006 after suffering a stroke. She could use a walker but her balance was very bad. She could not take a step or stand without holding onto something. She spent a month in rehab before coming to my home for good and leaving her "nest" behind. Fortunately, I can work from home, so there was no problem, and I could be there for her.

Over the next 6½ years, a series of strokes gradually caused more and more weakness, "transfers" became increasingly difficult until the last one in November 2012 left her unable to raise herself up even from the lift chair. The man in my life, Jimmy, stepped up to assist in getting her from one place to the other (bed to wheel chair, to lift chair, etc.) She became unable to feed herself and her vision seemed to decline more rapidly.

Then in March, her swallowing became more difficult and finally near the end of April, she could only get a few spoonfuls of soft food down and, again, I had her admitted to the hospital (JFK) on a Friday. By Thursday, I had her transferred to Hospice of Palm Beach County there in the hospital. It was determined over the weekend that she was stabilized and was sent home under Hospice Home Care. But, she passed away 2½ days later on May 16 — seemly, she’d had enough.

While in Hospice, on Mother’s Day, the priest came to her room and gave her the Last Rites, also known as the Sacrament for the Healing of the Sick. Mother was aware of what was going on. She answered each prayer the priest said over her with a sweet, "Thank you."

Mother’s strokes were caused by Atrial Fibrillation. She apparently had had several "mini strokes" before the one 6½ years ago. She had what is called vascular dementia which worsened, along with all her other symptoms, with each stroke. Incontinence was the third symptom.

It’s called Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus. The ventricles in her brain filled up with too much fluid putting pressure on the brain. She was too old to put in a shunt which might have relieved her symptoms. NPH causes a triad of symptoms: a widened gate and a sense that the feet are glued to the floor, dementia and incontinence. She always had the sense that she was falling backwards.

The void is there, and my reflections of her constant. I will share some of them with our dear readers in a coming issue.


September 4, 2013

Part 2 of 2

Photos above were taken for an article in the local newspaper in Galveston, Texas, where my mother grew up. The photo on the right was run with the article. Mother's years in Galveston (from infancy to her 20s) were spent behind a piano keyboard (she became a concert pianist) until a hand injury necessitated a hiatus from music. Her favorite pass time was spent on Galveston beach astride General Jack, the horse only she could ride. Below is another picture run with the article showing folks riding horses along the beach. See the story below which appeared in the newspaper in 1936 ... 

(Photos above  were colorized by Jimmy Shirley)

Circa 1936

Horseback Riding Popular Diversion on Galveston Beaches

"For years horseback riding on east and west beaches has been a favorite diversion of Galvestonians, and visitors here who are fond of horses have been quick to follow the sport.

"On almost any clear day bathers may see groups of riders, often as many as a dozen, either exploring the sand dunes back from the beach or cantering along the edge of the water. Many Galvestonians ride daily as their means of recreation. Others are less regular but none the less enthusiastic.

"Some of them own their horses and keep them stabled on the beach. Others rent the animals from the stables, and one may be sure that the mounts soon become known by their dispositions. Men and older boys naturally prefer horses with spirit and fast-gaited, but most women and younger boys and girls, of course, choose animals of a more docile nature.

"The horses themselves often learn their riders, so regular are some of them about riding. Most Galvestonians who ride equip themselves with the proper clothes and boots, and favorite times for riding are early morning, late afternoon, Sunday, and especially cool days during the week.

"The gulf breeze and smooth white beach make riding only an added pleasure to being near the sea. Many prefer riding back from the water. Others prefer to walk their animals near the water.

"In the picture at right, Miss Virginia Patterson, astride General Jack, is putting her mount through his tricks. Almost every day, clad in a bathing suit and riding bareback, she takes him into the surf, which he enjoys as much as she does.

"For stimulating relaxation, physicians say nothing is so healthful as horseback riding. Many Galvestonians ride awhile and then cool off after their exercise by taking a dip in the surf. They recommend this to anyone in need of a tonic for indolence."

Interestingly, back in Oct. 2011, I saw an article in the Post with a photo similar to the one at the beginning of this article of horseback riders on Hutchinson Island with Beach Tours. The caption read "...horseback riding is good therapy for anyone who loves the romance and beauty of a horse." I guess what was good once is still good. 


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