Surprise Treasury, and Tragedy

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June 3, 2022- The four boxes had sat in my bedroom closet, unopened for nearly four years. Once I cleaned out said closet, this afternoon, it was time to open the boxes and see just how much of a treasury of record was left behind by my father-in-law, with regard to his time as a Prisoner-of-War. The four boxes have a complete account of that harrowing time in his life and all the medals not included in a framed collage, which I also have.

These are all in a safe location and will be properly transferred to someone else in the family, at a later date. In the meantime, I will examine each box more carefully. This is probably the most precious historical collection which has ever been entrusted to me, and I’m honoured.

When Pops passed on, in 2014, he was accorded great honours-though due to a backlog at Arlington National Cemetery, it took several months to inter the man’s body. It was a grand and moving ceremony, despite that delay. It came on the heals of my visit to the sites of D-Day at Normandy, the Battle of the Bulge, in Bastogne and Metz, and Berga, where he was held prisoner. I will revisit these and other sites, in 2045, the centenary of the end of World War II.

The day ended with the discovery that one of my neighbours had died, alone and unnoticed for several days. I did not know him well, but was under the impression that he was being tended by “close friends”. He had told us, in the past, that he was doing “alright” and did not want to be disturbed. The circumstances of his passing underscore just how wrong the culture of anonymity is. We can’t very well impose ourselves on people, yet every soul deserves a full measure of dignity. I know enough about the man to know that he lived an honest life and worked hard as a cabinetmaker. May his peace be eternal.

Role Model

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May 30, 2022- It’s been little over eight years since Pops left us. My father-in-law, Norman D. Fellman, regarded his two sons-in-law as the boys he never had. I got a ton of advice, the greater part of it useful, and I can credit that advice for much of how our son has grown into manhood.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, Norm was taken prisoner by the German Army, in December, 1944, in the southern sector of the Battle of the Bulge. He was held, until just before V-E Day, at Berga, a substation of Bergen-Belsen Prisoner-of-War and Concentration Camp, just southeast of Gera, Thuringia. He, and a few dozen other “undesirables” (Jews, Romani and Mexican-Americans) were assigned onerous tasks, day in and day out. His crew went to a salt mine. Norm and one of the Mexican-Americans would prank the Germans, constantly, putting glue in the salt and adding gravel underneath a three or four inch coating of salt. He never said where he got the glue; in fact, he rarely talked about his experience, until President Clinton lifted a lingering gag order that had stifled World War II veterans, since President Truman’s tenure.

There were many aspects of his personality and ways of doing things, from which I have drawn wisdom. He made me realize that I was not a substandard person, and that my rights were the same as anyone else’s, but that I had to stand up and expect them. It is because of Pops that I became quite forceful in standing up for Aram, and for summoning every bit of inner strength, to care for his daughter, my wife, in her years of decline. He knew, when I was being attacked by state bureaucrats, who told him that I was lax in her care, that this was bunk. (The upshot was that they wanted her to be placed in a state home, thus giving them access to her disability payments. This, of course, did not happen-and she lived out the rest of her days in an environment of HER choosing.)

Pops-and Mother- had the bounty of being well-tended by their youngest daughter, still one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met, until their respective deaths in May, 2014 and October, 2018. That is the true beauty of a force of example: It redounds to the benefit of the role model, in one’s final days.

Rights and Obligations

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May 29, 2022- Every human right brings with it three levels of obligation: To self, to family and to community (both local and larger). This is just my opinion, for purposes of this blog post, but I’ve seen it play out, time and again. I have seen any person who demands a given right, without committing to a parallel responsibility, enter the realm of undeserved entitlement. Let us look at three rights that are encoded in the United States Constitution, in fact, the First, Second and Fourth Amendments, as cases in point.

The First Amendment provides several rights protections: to express ideas through speech and the press, to assemble or gather with a group to protest or for other reasons, and to ask the government to fix problems. It also protects the right to religious beliefs and practices. It prevents the government from creating or favoring a religion.

I maintain that the obligations inherent here are: 1. Duty to self, to be honest; 2. Duty to family, to speak with integrity and honour; 3. Duty to community, to give the same rights to others, even if their opinions are at variance with own.

The Second Amendment protects the right to keep and bear arms. This is specific to maintenance of a well-trained militia.

I maintain that the obligations inherent here are: 1. Duty to self, to own only such weapons as one can safely clean, maintain and store; 2. Duty to family, to keep weapons locked out of reach of those who are not of mature or sound mind; 3. Duty to community, to refrain from endangering the public.

The Fourth Amendment bars the government from unreasonable search and seizure of an individual or their private property.

I maintain that the obligations inherent here are: 1. Duty to self, to not own more of anything than one can safely and securely handle; 2. Duty to family, to not place them in danger, owing to possession of illicit substances or unsafe equipment, including rusted-out or broken-down cars that may be attractive nuisances for children; 3. Duty to community, to not engage in activities that generate public endangerment, or to make readily available, items that themselves create a danger to the public.

This is only one set of observations among many, but these are in keeping with how i was taught-to regard the needs of others, in tandem with my own.

Gratitude, After Facing the Strange

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May 28, 2022- The strange part came early this morning, before I awoke, In the dream, I was carrying my maternal grandmother around and showing her her old house, her daughters, including my mother, and one of her daughters-in-law. The last scene was of one of my paternal uncles, and two of his sons, arriving at the house, where another of my paternal uncles was fixing a meal for everyone.

Grandma died in 1960, but my memories of her have always been strong. All my maternal aunts, save one, have also passed on. All of my paternal uncles, save two, are gone, as are the two cousins in the scenario. All the uncles and aunts in the dream are among the departed. Mom is very much alive. I have a great deal more to do, over the next several years, and I don’t want to stick her with burying another child, so I am not putting a whole lot into the dream, other than maybe I need to keep their memories alive.

On this run-up to Memorial Day, I am focused on my gratitude. These include good health, good friends, a healthy and well-balanced family, a clear vision of things, and knowing that there are places across this continent and in at least two others, where I will ever be welcome. Prescott is a salubrious Home Base; I have a good, solid place to live and a well-built vehicle to get me places-especially after I tend to its needs, at the end of next week. I am grateful for the team that handles my finances. I am eternally grateful to the Team that guides my soul. My blessings include the children, animals and vegetation that enrich this life, the rocks and water that colour it and the music that ever flows, when my ears are open to its melodies.

Gratitude is king!

The Struggles of Good Men

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April 25, 2022- A co-worker spoke of her husband’s having to wrestle with the uptick in rental rates, and the pressure it puts on those who, like himself, have genuine compassion for their clients who risk being put out on the street. Large scale rental agencies try to do their tasks efficiently, yet are more susceptible to macroeconomics than are individual, or small-scale, landlords, who can choose to cut their own costs or at least negotiate trade-offs with their tenants.

Masculinity matters, just as much as femininity. It hardly needs to come across as ungainly or overbearing, any more than femininity need appear as flighty or sappy. Both forms of energy are needed, in their time and from the same persons, both male and female. My father was tough when he had to be, and the epitome of gentleness and kindness, when those were in order. The same is so with my mother.

Pairings of males and females are essential to society, and even gay couples take their essential relationship cues from their heterosexual fellows. Everyone has a forceful element and a nurturing element. To ignore either one is to hobble in imbalance. Although I am doing well on my own, a keen interest in the well-being of both male and female friends and family is a very basic core of my being.

Long may good men overcome their challenges.

The Whole Package

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April 23, 2022- The strong woman winced, just a bit, as she recounted the story of her husband’s struggles. A few minutes later, fortuitously, he called and said that he was finally feeling symptom-free. I felt relieved for both of them, as she did a bit of Happy Dance.

It has been a long and not always comfortable struggle, but I have reached the point in my journey of growth, that the turmoil faced by those of even casual acquaintance is of deep concern to me. Listening with genuine, not just passing, interest has become a daily occurrence-and it strikes me as being high time. Once upon a time, it was my job, and one I did quite well. Now, generating healing energy is a feature of daily life.

It is a relief to me, that the people dearest to my female friends are, without exception, my friends, too. Recognizing that a person’s whole circle is deserving of unequivocal support is actually energizing, not debilitating-as I used to tell myself. So, I look out for the husbands and significant others, as well as the children, of my nearest and dearest; listen intently when an interesting stranger opens up about topics that I have only considered in passing; and ponder decisions that are run by me, a lot more deeply than I did, even six months ago.

Part of this may be due to age. It may also be that knowing more keenly that we are all part of the same team has become de rigeur, not just a personal goal or buzzword. I am comforted by this thought, while preparing for a second night of supervising a fire shelter. Even in crisis, life is sweet.

The Paschal Feast

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April 17, 2022- I begin this post with a song by the contemporary Christian duo Cassandra Star and Callahan, who are sisters.

Certainly, a worthy sequel to Kaylee Rodgers’ 2018 Christmas version of the Leonard Cohen classic.

All told, I’m certain that there were millions of households where families and friends gathered in a feast to commemorate the Resurrection of Christ, which many regard as having occurred literally and others regard in a symbolic sense. Millions more will do the same, in two weeks or so, when Orthodox Christians mark the Pasch. The most important thing, to me, is that Christ was showing humanity that the Supreme Being does not forget His Creatures, especially not those who are conceived in His image and likeness- in terms of spiritual qualities. As Jesus was given spiritual renewal, so are we able to receive it, not through entitlement or deserving, but through Divine Grace. It has always been thus, and has ever been disregarded by humanity as a whole. Therefore, God the Patient offers us the Example of His Messenger, time after time.

I joined with Christian friends, this afternoon, to mark this splendid event. Baha’u’llah, too, suffered enormously that we might not endure the rotting fruits of our fecklessness and waywardness. “God hath forgiven what is past.” is what He tells us in Kitab-i-Aqdas, or Book of Laws. As Creation is eternal, so too is the learning process. Yet, little by little, day by day, I believe we are getting there. Our Creator is waiting, patiently waiting.

The Long Run

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April 13, 2022- It almost seems, some days, like I spend the day on Zoom. It sometimes seems that I pull the face mask out of my pocket, at random, unexpected moments, getting appreciative nods from the fearful and glares from those who see their own freedom under assault. As the pandemic waxes and wanes, sometimes within the same week, its short-and long-term legacies show how they are with us, ready to do their jobs at a moment’s notice.

Health is a funny thing. I have managed, with the skillful help of my dermatology team, to beat back basal cells that had accumulated over a few years of spotty sunscreen applications-or perhaps, as a gadfly told me in Miami Beach, a few weeks ago, from applying the wrong type of sunscreen. Before these, there was my almost total disregard for my own health, both physical and mental, whilst taking care of my beloved wife in her final years.

Now I am mostly back on an even keel. There is much to be done, here during the next two months and in mid-summer; on the road at other points during the year. A period of nine years, 2022-2031, starts in a week, during which the world will hear and see a lot more about the Baha’i Faith and the Teachings of its Founder, Baha’u’llah, than many have heard up to now. I will have apart in that effort, both here in Prescott and in many other places. On my last journey, to the Southeast, most discussion of Baha’i teachings took place in a family setting, and in short conversations with a sharp-minded person from the Netherlands.

The long run, however, will see more than new wine in this old bottle. As we keep seeing, a lot of things to which we are accustomed, both big and small, have fallen away. This will long continue-in areas from statecraft to roles within the family; from modes of transportation to the design and organization of dwellings. All of this re-organization, however disconcerting it may be at times, will result in a far more peaceful world.

“This is the Day in which God’s most excellent favors have been poured out upon men, the Day in which His most mighty grace hath been infused into all created things. It is incumbent upon all the peoples of the world to reconcile their differences, and, with perfect unity and peace, abide beneath the shadow of the Tree of His care and loving-kindness. It behoveth them to cleave to whatsoever will, in this Day, be conducive to the exaltation of their stations, and to the promotion of their best interests. Happy are those whom the all-glorious Pen was moved to remember, and blessed are those men whose names, by virtue of Our inscrutable decree, We have preferred to conceal.
Beseech ye the one true God to grant that all men may be graciously assisted to fulfil that which is acceptable in Our sight. Soon will the present-day order be rolled up, and a new one spread out in its stead. Verily, thy Lord speaketh the truth, and is the Knower of things unseen.”- Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, page 346.

On Not Being Invisible

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April 11, 2022- Dr. Carlos Montezuma was a Yavapai, literally sold, as a boy, to an Italian photographer, for 30 pieces of silver, by his Akimel O’odham captors, in October, 1871. Named Wassaja (“Beckoning”), by his parents, he was renamed by his adoptive father, Carlos Gentile, as Carlos Montezuma. He grew up to fully avail himself of formal education, becoming the second Indigenous person to earn a medical degree, after Susan Picotte. Carlos Montezuma invented several medical procedures and devices, for which he never has received official credit. In fact, even mentioning those in print would likely get me in trouble for “copyright violation”.

One thing that Carlos Montezuma did get accredited to his name was founding the Society of American Indians, giving voice to First Nations people, long before the American Indian Movement took it up another notch, in the 1970s. Thanks to Carlos, the road to visibility became clear to the people who were here, long before Columbus, or the Vikings. No one today can say, with a straight face, that they are unaware of our twin continents’ original inhabitants and at least some of what they accomplished.

I say this, because there are still many, across ethnic groups, age categories, genders, who are treated as invisible. One of the things I notice about reaction to my blog is that those posts which give credit or recognition to specific people in marginalized roles are also those posts which get the least acknowledgement. Human nature trends towards the “golden rule of power”: “He who has the gold, makes the rules.” In following this trend, the readers who choose to ignore the “uninteresting” characters, say much about themselves and their own self-concept.

The fact is, though, my friends, each of us has a point of interest about oneself. I learn much from the barristas, the janitors, the bussers, the homeless and the random little kid who wanders about, looking for his family. No one gets to be invisible, in the long run.

Through A Water Wonderland

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April 5, 2022, Meridian, MS-

The train pulled out of Peachtree Station, nearly an hour behind schedule. We have made progress, by fits and starts, along the way towards New Orleans. Now, we are leaving the commercial hub of eastern Mississippi. This is where the Atlanta crew got off and a crew that will be with us, until New Orleans, has come on.

The journey from Atlanta was through rain, until we got to Birmingham.

Since then, the skies have been clear and the ground has been wet. Wetlands and rivers abound, through the central swath of Alabama and Mississippi. The Black Warrior and Tombigbee are particularly dominant. The former (below) has been made into a series of reservoirs.

Ms. Blackstone, sitting across from me, put the whole concept of why some of us go on journeys into perspective-and one that fits nicely with the conversation I had with my brother, Dave, last night. In her view, each of us who goes out each day, whether close to home or further afield, is on assignment from the Holy Spirit. This helps explain the seeming randomness of some of the events that take place-who we meet, where we meet them and the tenor of our interactions. It also explains both the pleasant and less than pleasant events that happen, and the lessons drawn from each. It also gives me an affirmation that I am on the right course in this life.

In a few short days, I will be back at Home Base, with a full slate of “assignments” from the Creator of us all. I wish Ms. Blackstone well, in her daily work and am certain that, despite the dark clouds that encircle so much of humanity, the forces of division and darkness that prey on the fears of so many will fall short in their efforts to ensnare the human race.

Through downpours, tornadoes, bombs and bombast, stay strong.