Category Archives: Historical

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 3

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Personal Values, Social, Striving

July 24, 2026- When I rest my head on the large plush lion, while with Hana in her play pen, my granddaughter sits quietly next to me, as if watching over her Papa. Aram would do the same thing with Penny and me, when he was a baby.

Hana looks at my watch, very intently, when it is about the normal time for her parents to get home from work. It has Roman numerals on it, but somehow, between the position of the numerals and her own internal clock, she knows it is time for their return. If they are late, she starts calling “mama mama mama” or “oma”.

Our walk today took us past the nearest elementary school. I told Hana that, if we are still here when she reaches school age, that will be her school. She gave a big smile at that news. It is just past a pleasant section of Hoblitzelle Park, and a bridge over Russell Creek. She likes going that way, on our walks, as do I.

She has had a good week, despite the intense heat of Monday and Tuesday.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa doesn’t know it, but I have been looking at his watch, when Mommy or Daddy come home, every night for a while now. I don’t know what the letters mean, but I know that’s when our family is all together again.

YEAR In REMEMBRANCE-1976 This was our nation’s Bicentennial. When Independence Day came around, I was again working at Quisisana, for the summer. I went with the Staff Waiter, to Bridgton, his home town, and took in the festivities there. We each had an open can of beer, which a police officer spotted and told us that was illegal; then he just walked away. We finished our beers and found a trash can. The other thing about Quisi was that I did not make any lasting friends this time around. I was less focused, having spent the months after my graduation, substitute teaching in Saugus and up the road, in North Reading. Neither town had opportunities for a new teacher; the waiting list for a Social Studies teacher was quite lengthy and the oldest teachers were in their late fifties, not at all ready for retirement. It was also during my time at Quisisana that a family member suffered a horrible injury and we lost someone very close to our family, in the same accident. That sent me on a tailspin, and I made serious errors in judgement with regard to some budding friendships.

After Quisisana, I went up to the Bangor area, and subsisted between substitute teaching at Bangor Junior High and High School and tutoring a homebound student in a nearby town. I lived in a boarding house for a time, then moved in with a couple of young men who had advertised for a roommate. That lasted until mid-February of the following year. While there, I lived a quiet life and disturbed on one. In November, I was hired as a Title I Paraprofessional, whose responsibility was to run a self-contained program for eight emotionally-handicapped middle school boys. It was in a rural school district. I put together what could best be described as a patchwork program. I had no real administrative support and no background in the field of Special Education. I was a warm body, who showed up most days. It did no one much good.

Other than being close to a large family of a paternal uncle, aunt and cousins, and enjoying many lovely parts of Maine, the decision to re-locate there was not one of my brightest moves.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 1

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 22, 2026-Hana started her new month with a new behaviour- wanting to more actively take part in Story Time. She wants to be able to look at a page for several minutes after I have read the words. She focuses on the pictures and the form of the words. She also likes to touch the page, especially if it has a smooth texture.

She laughs a lot more now, taking delight in all of my antics and silly songs. Once, this afternoon, she put her hand over my mouth.hen I was singing to her-then she started laughing. She also likes to tip a tower of rings over, as soon as I put the rings back on. It is just another of the games that get invented by infants, using their observational skills.

We went on our morning walk early, again this morning, thus avoiding the later 105 degree still air. Few people were along the path, but there was a group of Middle School Track Team members, getting ready for what was hopefully a brief pre-season workout. Hana, for her part, spent part of the walk asleep in her stroller.

HANA’S NOTE- I want to know what this reading thing is. The stories that Papa reads to me are sometimes exciting and other times just silly. I am looking at the pictures and making little stories in my mind. Sometimes, I dream of them.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1974 I spent my first year at UMass-Amherst living in a co-ed dorm. Having a large group of brothers and sisters was nothing new, so I was quite relaxed. Still, ever the rube, I used my antiquated record player-which became known as The Set”. Most everyone else had a boom box, state-of-the art stereo systems, etc. I was okay with what I had. I was also the “editor” of a residence quad newsletter called “The Sage-Revisited” and I delivered The New York Times around campus, six days a week. That lasted about five months, then I forgot yo change the code to “Sunday”, a bunch of Sunday Times were ripped off and i left that job. The editor position wasn’t much more successful. I did a lot better, academically than in extracurriculars.

I kept encountering Baha’is in Amherst, though I remained Catholic. I did not find the Newman Center (Catholic student union and parish) very supportive of us students, so in hindsight, I might have made more inquiries into the Baha’i Faith-my second Residential Assistant, and one other RA across the Quad, were Baha’is. I babysat our RA’s infant daughter on at least one occasion. (I would later meet both mother and daughter, at Baha’i gatherings in Arizona, in the 1990s.) The Dean of the College of Education was also a Baha’i.

Summer of 1974 was mostly spent at a resort hotel in western Maine. Quisiana was/is a music camp, so there was a wealth of musical talent. I wasn’t part of that talent. I worked as a busboy, did a credible job and explored a lot of Maine, those eight weeks. Young women floated in and out of my life, which was okay. I have never been much for brief affairs.

This was the summer of Goodbye, Nixon. The staff dining room attendant made the announcement of the President’s resignation, on August 2. It was a quiet day, otherwise. This potentially unsettling year was like my one encounter with a juvenile moose-could have been troublesome, but …Nah

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 28

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, distraction issues, Family, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 19,2026- “I want this!”- So said my granddaughter, as she sat on my lap, while I was reading my Baha’i prayer book, this morning. I let her touch the cover and the pages, but not pull on them. She understood, after I explained the reason, a second time. It is nice that she wants to hold such a comforting book.

We went to Costco, as a family, this afternoon. Hana is not yet curious about stuff. She basically looks at what people are doing-especially other children teasing their parents. She had no reaction today, at a little boy trying to keep things away from his mother. On other occasions, she has babbled at another child, in a scolding tone. Today, she was in a more pensive mood.

In the evening, we had Hana in a swim vest, and she kicked her legs several times, in forward motion, in a half full bathtub. With a full protective suit and three of us hovering, she was perfectly safe and felt more relaxed.

HANA’S NOTE- I like to handle things-and put my mouth on them. My grown-ups won’t let me “eat” some things. I try to do that anyway. Books taste yucky!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1971 My first experience with the Pacific Northwest=11 different forms of weather, in 24 hours, at Fort Lewis, WA. My first experience with Japan- Yokota Air Force Base was a miserable place, with bad weather and miserable American civilians, who disdained us grunts. My experiences with VietNam- Mostly kind, gentle locals worked on the bases at Long Binh and at Cholon. I was seen as a “newbie”, at Long Binh, especially by those who had come in from combat units, in the back country. One of them changed his tune, after I defended him from the unit’s self-styled alpha male, while I was assistant Charge of Quarters, overnight. I managed the Accountable Mail cage,both at Long Bin and at Cholon. Long Binh was touch and go. I was there from March until July.

When said alpha male threatened me, for having embarrassed him before the unit, I was transferred to Cholon, a small unit in Saigon’s Chinatown. There was no word on what happened to him. Sergeant First Class Hobson, the operations sergeant, just thought I’d be better off at Cholon. I was, as it happened. I had good friends there-Bill, Arnie, Richie, Roger. At Long Binh, I had been mostly an outsider.

I spent four days in Sydney, on a Rest & Rehabilitation leave, in September and spent much of that time with two sisters, who my buddy Bill had met, on his R&R, earlier. I was rather a rube, during those days, but I did enjoy my time with them and a visit to Tauranga Park. I also visited Vung Tau, a beach town, southeast of Saigon. We were told that the Viet Cong also used Vung Tau as a resort, but I basically stayed with a small group of other soldiers and met no trouble that day. Once, while I was still at Long Binh, my cousin Johnny came by, as he was stationed in the Mekong Delta and had an errand to run on the base. That was one of the best days in a rather miserable place.

In November, right after the guys threw a surprise party for my 21st birthday, I was given the chance to apply for early release, to return to college. I put in for it, got approval and my time in VietNam came to an end, with the new year.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 27

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Striving, Travel

July 18. 2026- Hana greeted the ladies who came to visit us, this afternoon. This was Yunhee’s first real house party, and five of her former co-workers came. Hana likes a small, intimate gathering, but doesn’t like too much noise, or what seems to her like a crowd. I helped her get comfortable with the idea of so many people sitting around the dining table. She understood, when I told her that all the ladies were nice and that they were there to see her, as well as her mother.

It meant a lot to her Mom, and to us men, that this afternoon went well. We enjoyed Korean-style fried chicken, Malaysian empanadas,and Filipino purple yam cake. The conversation centered on dealing with the heaviness in the logistics industry, but floated to topics of fashion, child-rearing and the anomalies that pop up in moving a household, in which two of the ladies-mother and daughter-are now engaged. A comparison between living in Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex and Greater Atlanta entered into discussion. We also talked of travel in east Asia-Singapore, Korea and the Philippines. It was a lovely afternoon.

When the ladies got ready to leave, Hana spoke loudly, seeming to say “Thank you for coming.” She also smilingly took part in the ladies’ group photo. This evening, it was hard for her to wind down, but after I told her that tomorrow will be another happy day, if she gets a good rest, her father put her in the crib and she rolled over to go to sleep.

HANA’S NOTE- I had fun in the playpen with the first two ladies that came and went to take a nap, after a while. When I woke up, there were three more ladies here. That confused me and at first I was upset. Mommy and Papa got me to understand what had happened. It was fun after that.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1970 This year was spent keeping the mail delivery system at the Tri-Service Barracks at Fort Myer well-functioning. I was able to move into that barracks, myself, after five months. There were many weekends spent in Washington, primarily in Georgetown. I also walked-a lot, around the city, at one point going all the way to Rockville, MD and on another occasion, found myself in Coral Hills, a northeastern suburb. My co-worker, Charlie, was from southeast DC, and commuted each day. He was flabbergasted that I had walked all that way, but it is what I’m used to doing.

I took part in a couple of anti-war demonstrations, and associated with a progressive group that had set up a free university, they called “New University”. I sat in on a few of their lectures. I walked away from the demonstrations, though, after some of the participants started attacking DC police officers. I later learned that there were agents provocateurs among the crowd. My association stopped altogether, after I was directed by my Commanding Officer to join a detail that stockpiled pro-war pamphlets in a DC Public Schools warehouse. Somehow, I was photographed in fatigues at that exercise, and the photos were circulated among identified radical groups,

I met different public figures, during the year: Vice President Spiro Agnew and his wife, on a Georgetown street, with Agnew telling me he was “for the war and am anti-you”; Senator J. Strom Thurmond, who was jogging near the Capitol, and encouraged me to always stay active; Chicago 8 defendant Rennie Davis, who was nervous about being re-arrested and Abbie Hoffman, at a large anti-war event. Hoffman said, “Watch this, kid”, then turned to a TV set that featured Richard Nixon making a speech. He kicked the TV off the stage, into an empty grassy area. I was not impressed, and left right afterward.

I went back and forth from DC to Massachusetts, several times during the year. I met a few young ladies, and basically we passed through each other’s consciousness like ships in the night. In the middle of 1970, one of my neighbourhood friends from Saugus was gravely wounded in VietNam. He survived and is still alive. That, however, along with my increasing annoyance with both sides in the war debate, made me decide to go to Viet Nam and see for myself, what was going on. I asked HQ Company, U.S. Army First Sergeant Harper for help in getting re-assigned, infuriated my pacifist friends-and gave up the easy life at Fort Myer, early in 1971.

It was time for innocence to end.

Korean Onion Chicken

Filipino Purple Yam cake

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 26

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 17,2026- Hana and I were asleep in the recliner, so deeply that I didn’t notice Aram going in and out to get the mail. My granddaughter has the same calming effect on me that I have on her.

We had a busy “half day”, in that her parents came home from work early, to take her to a medical appointment. We thus managed our walk, “wrestling” (her crawling on me and my lifting her up in the air, in vestibular motion) and lunch time into a shorter frame. There was also story time, centered on “Sleeping Beauty”. Maleficent is portrayed in this brief version only as the “Old Fairy”. She ends up getting turned into a frog. Hana thought that was funny.

She is always overjoyed when one of us comes back to the house, after having been away for a brief errand. Having the family all together is a big deal to my granddaughter. She is delighted to just sit in the high chair at each meal, even at breakfast, which for her is a liquid feeding, still. She has complete meals at lunch and dinner.

HANA’S NOTE- I went to have my blood checked-AGAIN. This time, the nurse only stuck me once with the needle. So, that was not as bad.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1969 This was a year of firsts: My first time on an airplane; my first trip outside New England; my first extended time away from family; my first time really hallenging myself.

I left Star Market in January and went to work at General Electric’s Riverworks Plant, in Lynn, MA. My fahter, and several relatives and neighbours worked there, as well. Dad got me in. I worked in the rotometer calibration section. The senior technician told me my work was substandard, but he never bothered complaining to the higher=ups. Nor did he offer specific criticism that might have helped me improve.

It was a placeholder job, anyway, as I had asked the Army Reserve Unit to let me enlist in the Regular Army. My plan was to enlist for 3 years, then apply for an early release, so as to return to college. My enlistment date was set for June 16, and the recruiter determined I’d be best suited for the Army Postal Corps. I left G.E. on May 1, and focused somewhat on physical training.

Basic Training was at Fort Jackson, SC. I started off as a mewling klutz, but slowly and surely got with the program. I scraped by in marksmanship, missed Combat Fire-but never was made to re-take it, though I asked to do so, and excelled in the Physical Training Test. I did fairly well in the G-3 (General Knowledge) Exam, which was oral. On weekends, we had free time, and I went with a couple of guys who were from Columbia, to their favourite hangouts. I was the sole White guy with four African-Americans, but none of the Whites we encountered gave us any trouble over it.

Woodstock happened while I was doing things like learning how to properly handle grenades and re-sight my M-16. We were brought into a room and allowed to watch the launch of the first Apollo rocket to the Moon. Training was canceled that day. I made enough of an improvement that the cadre sent me on a 3-day pass to Myrtle Beach, on Labor Day weekeend.. I saw that there was little difference between it and the beach towns of New England, though the water was warmer. I stayed in a two-bed shack for $1 a night, and had the place to myself.

Fort Ben Harrison and the postal training were footnotes. I didn’t really bond with anyone in the unit, but went into Indianapolis by myself a few times on weekends. I never did get to the racetrack, though. Many of the guys went to VietNam, after AIT. I was sent to Fort Myer, Va. I was assigned to straighten out a mail operation, as my predecessor had ended up in Fort Leavenworth, for various postal crimes. That made a distinct impression on me. I got the job done quickly, to the satisfaction of the Inspector General. That November, a high school friend was killed in Viet Nam, and I began to re-assess what my responsibilities were. I fasted that Thanksgiving, and decided to give Fort Myer a year, after which I would re-assess my situation. Seeing Washington, D.C. on weekends was great fun, though, and I began to bond with civilians in the Georgetown neighbourhood, whose views on life were similar to my own.

Thus did the ’60s come to an end.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 23

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Posted by on in children, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 14, 2026– Lunch is peaceful, when a bit of tactile feeding is involved. The food that ends up in Hana’s hands, as opposed to the spoon with which I feed her most of it, still ends up in her mouth-either by her own actions or by my scooping it from the body bib, high chair tray or food catcher at the base of the chair. What little finds its way to an unsanitary area, like the foot rest of the high chair-or the floor, is of course, discarded. She ate everything on her plate today.

How lunch proceeds also depends on the quality of her mid-morning nap. Even though that was brief today, she was energetic and happy, when she woke up. So, she probably slept pretty deeply. We also went out earlier than normal, so she had the extra pleasure of a cooler morning walk.

Hana is calling us “Papa”, “Daddy” and “Mama” more these days. She even used her own name and pointed to herself, for the first time, this afternoon. Her vocalizations, in general, have vastly increased, this week. She can also be quite loud.

HANA’S NOTE- I am happy with my name-and happy with the meals that Mama leaves for me. They feel nice and taste good.

YEAR IN REMEMBTANCE0 1966 Sophomore year went well, in every subject except Algebra I. Coach Stead tried his best, but I till didn’t get the hang of it. I managed to finally get a B in the course, in Mr. Quinlan’s summer course.

Most of our family summer vacations entailed a few days somewhere in the White Mountains of New Hampshire and 2-3 days at Johns Pond, in Mashpee, on Cape Cod. This year, after Mashpee, we took a day trip from nearby Woods Hole to Martha’s Vineyard. I like walking around Vineyard Haven, but more enjoyed a visit to a Wampanoag community, on the west of the island.

Junior Year, in the fall, brought Geometry, Chemistry and U.S. History, along with a dismal year of French- mostly because it entailed memorizing long lists of conjugated verbs-not my jam, then or now. One of my best friends was a freshman girl, who I had met at the beach over the summer. She was dating a sophomore boy, who also became a good friend. He and I sat in the back of Geometry Class and enjoyed one another’s snarky humour. We also managed to get through the class with Cs.

I hung out with a variety of kids this year. I had a ways to go with picking up on social cues, Joan and Charlie, to whom I alluded earlier, helped a lot, as did several of the guys in my neighbourhood- even though their name for the group was rather lame: “The Ave. Boys”. (We lived on or near Adams Avenue.) I walked over to Howard Johnson’s Restaurant, where one of the kids on my street worked. A number of teens from Saugus and nearby Melrose gathered there, mostly during the summer nights. We seldom drew the attention of the police-but Officer Gus Belmonte would chat us up and made it clear he expected no trouble from anyone. Gus was one of the better cops.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 21

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving

July 12, 2026- I heard Hana crying, this evening, so I went down to see what was going on. She was in the crib and wanted to get out-but it was bedtime. Her Daddy was right there, calmly waiting her out. She was excited that I had come in the room, but Papa was not rescuing her from her parents’ rules.

I went for a walk, instead, after saying “Goodnight” to her. Outside, the air was clean and cool. There was a small “rainbar” off to the east, as I walked along Red River Road, through a small section of Hoblitzelle Park, as far as the elementary school where Hana would study, if we stay here that long. (We’re doing fine here, but the kids are always looking for better opportunities-as well they should.)

While Aram was still at Drill, this afternoon, the three of us went to downtown Plano, with Yunhee and I enjoying iced maple lattes and a Cruffin, whilst Hana chilled in her stroller, just taking in the sights and sounds of Lemma Coffee House. After that, we walked over to Bibliobar, the small eclectic bookshop, where I gleaned, and purchased, a story about a little girl looking for home. It will be nice to read to Hana, as she grows.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa is usually indulgent, so I tried to get him to take me out of my crib-but, nothing doing. He backs my Mommy and Daddy up-darn!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1964 I was in full puberty in Grade 8-actually, I had been for the previous two years. I was also gawky and had buck teeth, so not really boyfriend material. I made my share of friends though, once over the nervous tics that only put a wedge between me and the rest of the class. Grade 8 came to an end, in a peaceful way. The arsonist was caught, by good old Mr. Casey, after he tried to set fire to Veterans Memorial School, where we had transferred after the East Wing Fire and where Bill had transferred to work as custodian. The firebug was a classmate of ours, mentally ill and a loner. He got some of the help he needed, after that run of destruction.

My youngest brother, Brian, came along right after I “graduated” Grade 8. Being thirteen and a bit emotionally awkward, yet, I wasn’t the greatest big brother in the world-still focused on teasing David and on my own concerns. Brian and I grew to love one another, and in truth, we were the “Challenge Bookends’ for our parents. Me, by a series of bad choices’ and he, through no fault of his own. His life of physical and mental challenges was anchored by his loving nature, though, and he gave of himself as much as he could.

Grade 9, back on a normal high school schedule, after the reconstruction of the East Wing, was chaotic in other ways. The number of competent teachers we had this year: Two- the English instructor, the venerable Mrs. Adlington and the P.E. teacher, the unconventional, but very effective, Mr. McNeil. The other four need not be mentioned by name. Three were nice enough people-but incompetent. The fourth was just a nasty individual. I got along better with most kids this year.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 20

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, service, Social, Striving

July 11, 2026- Hana was in her glory, this morning, as she had her Mommy to herself. She delights in my presence, yet, as one might expect, Mother is supreme. While they played and Yunhee fed her lunch, I went on a few errands-at Plano Farmers Market and H.E.B. Gas is a bit cheaper at the latter place than anywhere other than Costco-which is on the southwest end of town. My errands were on the northwest. I got lobster rolls for the three of us adults, as there was a food truck out of Dallas that offered wild-caught lobster, from the Gulf of Maine. That is a once-in-a great-while treat, as you might imagine.

Once back, I played with Hana for a while, showing her again about sitting with both buttocks on the floor. She managed to do that, for several seconds, and began to hop a bit. During the course of the day, and for the past few days, Hana has been vocalizing a lot more also. The cadence of her sounds suggests a message, an urgency, that is also reflected in her face. When we appear to understand that she is serious about the matter, she is pleased and we go through the anticipated needs she may have-food, milk, a clean diaper, exercise-or just someone to be with her. My granddaughter is a social being, much like her father and grandmother.

HANA’S NOTE- Of all the stories that Papa reads me, I like the princess stories the best, especially if the girls have to actually do something. I won’t be a lazy girl. That would be boring.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE, 1963- The first half of this year was not at all bad. I had a generally good experience in the rest of Grade 7. We spent a lot of time at the ocean (Lynn Beach) and at a pond (Breakheart). I had a good summer with the Boy Scouts also-a fair amount of camping. I left, though, at the end of summer-feeling hamstrung by my poor swimming ability. Aquatic skills are required for higher ranks in the Scouts.

Eighth Grade, though, brought hardship. A few bullies made a big deal about my autism, which was not really yet a diagnosed thing back then. I was just “weird”, in their view. I managed to do fairly well, academically, except for Math, where we were set to learn the binary system. The first quarter was terrible,but with tutoring from a next door neighbour, I made it back to ‘B’s and C’s’, the rest of the year. The Math teacher backed me up, when I stood up to the bullies. After that, things were okay for me, personally. For the school as a whole, though, it was one disaster after another. Someone set the old Junior High on fire. It burned to the ground, for the most part, leaving only a small section-which was renovated and became an elementary school. We were sent to the East Wing of the High School. There, we did double sessions, sharing with the freshman high school students. We went during the morning and the 9th graders went in the afternoon. The East Wing would itself later be destroyed by arson. While we were still there, though, President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed in Dallas, TX, by a still indeterminate number of shooters. I have, on balance, a sad remembrance of 1963.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 19

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Striving

July 10, 2026- Today was the Commemoration of the Martyrdom of al-Bab, a Baha’i Holy Day. On this day, in 1850, al-Bab, the Herald of the Baha’i Dispensation, was executed by firing squad, along with a personal assistant. Baha’is generally gather to say prayers and readings associated with al-Bab, Whose name means “The Gate”, in English. His Teachings were the gate to understanding those of Baha’ullah, Who came after Him.

As Hana is too young to attend such events, I said my own Tablet of Visitation here at the house. Hana sat in the playpen, right in front of me, and listened quietly as I prayed. She does the same when I say my daily morning prayers, each day. I sense that this practice is having an orienting influence on her.

This evening, Yunhee remarked that Hana is much more composed now. She sleeps through the night and only gets irritable when she is hungry. While Yunhee is at work, Hana and I have the feeding routine pretty much down. If she is napping before her medication, she wakes herself on time to receive it. Her lunch meal and bottle feeding are on schedule, as she is awake then and happily watches me prepare the items. I also have her watch me prepare the mid-afternoo0n bottle. After Yunhee gives her the evening feeding, she is ready for a good night’s sleep.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa and I watched some workers take our old sidewalk from in front of the house. Papa says they will put a new one in, next week. Since we also saw them putting in new sidewalks at the end of the street, I know he’s right.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1962 It was a year of transition. I finished Grade 6. Boys began teasing one another about things of which I had no idea. One of the “faster” kids in my neighbourhood noticed my naivete and talked to me about some of it. My father also gave me “The Talk”, before I entered Grade 7.

I had my share of friends in my immediate neighbourhood. Eddie and Allan were the closest, of the boys. After Ellen moved, I would go by her old house and hang out with the Geotis kids, whose father let me stomp grapes for his homemade wine. I got a glass or two of grape juice, that their mother set aside from the batch that was to be fermented. A group of us boys played touch football, in the middle of the street. Some men driving home from work would go around us. Others demanded we stop and make a hole for them. I was probably the worst of the players, but some of the boys felt it was a good thing to include even a klutz like me.

Grade 7, Junior High School, brought the concept of rotating between classes. I had a good Math teacher, Mr. Anzalone, a large man with a booming voice and quick temper, who also had a keen sense of humour and a heart of gold. My Social Studies and Science teachers were also competent. Mr. Anzalone talked with us about current affairs, during our home room time. This was the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and President Kennedy took a firm stance with the Soviet Union. We froze our missiles in Turkey and they, their missiles in Cuba. Thus, did cool heads walk back from the brink of nuclear war.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 18

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Personal Values, Social, Striving

July 9, 2026- It came close to 100 F, today. We went on a shortened walk, along a shady area of Greenfield Avenue, early this morning-even before the road crew began their work of replacing warped sidewalk panels. Hana didn’t mind the walk; she fell asleep in the stroller.

Her receptive vocabulary seems to be increasing. She responds with “Yeah!” after I make a comment about something one of her parents says over the phone. She is also very vigilant about where we are, when she knows we are at home. She doesn’t outwardly worry too much when we are out of the house, as long as one of us is with her. I explain where I am going, when I have to leave her sight for a minute or two. She is always in a safe place, when that happens. She understands and plays nicely until I get back.

Much of our time together is spent with me reading to her, or telling her about things that she can observe. I also talk about the items that her mother leaves for her to have for lunch. This evening, when Yunhee was late getting home, I fed Hana some yogurt and cucumber, She finds yogurt a bit strange in taste, but she eats it willingly.

HANA’S NOTE- I crawl over to Papa, from inside the play pen, whenever I see him reading his book. I just want to make sure he still sees me. He always smiles when I crawl over to him. I like being close to the ones I love.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE: 1961- Fifth Grade saw two of the Felton School’s custodians pass away, within five months of each other. Neither man was that old, but the schools, in those days, used old-style boilers. Working in an old basement couldn’t have been too healthful The second custodian, Mr. Hazel, was succeeded by Bill Casey, a much younger, and healthier, man, who also took an interest in the well-being of us students.

In Grade 6, our teacher, Mrs. Arkins, was also the building Principal. As such, she was a mild disciplinarian, but a fair teacher. I learned about decimals and per cents, and reached Grade 8 reading level. We studied about weather patterns, made more vinegar and baking soda volcanoes, and studied about the “Old World”-Eurasia, Africa and the Pacific Basin-including Australia. I continued to excel in spelling, but then found myself “zoning out” more, when it came time for parts of speech. Somehow, I caught up on that topic, by December.

My best friend, until June of that year, was a girl whose father had played for the Buffalo Bills of the American Football League, before starting his own business in Saugus. He found an opportunity to build a stronger enterprise in Buffalo, so they moved.. I befriended the family that moved into their house, but I missed Ellen.