Freedom Within

12

June 14,2018, Oley, PA-

The past two days have been spent taking in some aspects of history. Yesterday afternoon, I learned about American railroads, by visiting Steamtown National Historical Park, in Scranton, PA. Today, I spent almost the entire day at Valley Forge, the place where George Washington regrouped and shored up his forces, for a more concerted run at the powerful British Army.

The knowledge of history is right up there with the natural world, in my pursuit of understanding. I regret not posting photos, but when I get my new laptop, all these visits will be reprised, with the photos I’ve been taking.

Back to the matter of freedom. Valley Forge is a symbol of fighting for freedom. There is even an active organization in the town:Freedom’s Foundation, made famous in the 1969’s by the late American singer, Frankie Laine.

My take, in a nutshell: Freedom is a state of mind and heart. Of course, as with money, one must work to secure outward freedom, and never take it for granted. Yet, even those living in a dictatorship have the option of keeping the flame of freedom alive in their heart and mind.

I will have more to say about this,later, but I am getting tired,after a wonderful day, capped by a lovely dinner with a new friend.

Dear Thug

13

June 10, 2018, Montreal-

You thought you got the drop on me, yesterday, waiting until I was far enough away from my car that I didn’t hear the smashing of window glass, did not witness you taking my seven-year-old laptop and my passport. To the extent you thought of me at all, you probably imagined a terified, whimpering American tourist, who was wondering “Oh, whatever shall I DO?”.

So, let’s get real about what this means, for each of us. I spent The rest if my Saturday being assisted by your better neighbours: A confident and dedicated young police officer, who knows her role in society, far better than you know yours; a strong, but gentle, young man who is a Muslim, by the way, and who carefully and diligently removed the bulk of the glass you left in my car, following your act of rage; two hostel workers who called around, for a space for me, to no avail. It is one of Montreal’s signature weekends, after all: Formula One Grand Prix.

Today, I am back at my favourite place to stay in Montreal. I made my car fitted with protection from the elements. I gave back to the young people who have so gracefully welcomed me into their community. I got a fine haircut from Irina. I am singing along to Eddie Vedder’s “I’m Still Alive”. Tomorrow, I will move forward, with new glass on my car windows and clearance from my government, to cross back into the land of my birth. In two years’ time, I will be back in Montreal.

So what of you? Perhaps, you are bragging to your friends and associates, about how you took advantage of a stupid Yankee. You may find someone who can break my laptop’s encryption and enable you, or your “employer”, to read my posts, to harass me or, God forbid to use the device for more nefarious purposes. You may try to sell my passport to the wide world of imposters. You will, in the long of it, fail. You are probably well-known to the Montreal Police Department, and the young officer took evidence with her. You are certainly known, at least in terms of your actions, by the people who live around McGill University. Their patience is running thin.

So, we both move forward. I will continue to live a life that values people and a Higher Power. You have a choice to make. Give up what is not yours or face one element or another, of civil society.

Sudden Leghold

7

June 9, 2018, Montreal- 

I will remain here. In a mostly majestic city, for two more days, and possibly three.

No details, and I am safe. In fact, thanks to the Grand Prix that is taking place here, I am alone in a big, empty palace.No one else wanted it, and I had no place else to go, so here I am, for one night. Tomorrow, it’s back to a hostel. I am without a computer, for several days, so The 2018 Road series is on hold.  No details beyond that, for the time being. I am safe. I have a car that works  and now, I am going to sleep. See you tomorrow.

The 2018 Road, Day 9, Part 2: Tenkswatewa’s Bequest

2

June 4-5, 2018, Prophetstown State Park, IN-

I spent the day and night here at this underrated, but magnificent little Indiana state park.  The weather was just right, and I actually avoided the storm system which passed to the north of us, then, unfortunately, went southeast and wreaked havoc on eastern Kentucky and West Virginia.

Prophetstown was a settlement of Wea people, who were part of the Miami Nation, with several French and British traders living among them, in the period immediately following the end of the American Revolution.  The Europeans exercised some influence over Tenkswatewa (popularly known as The Prophet), the spiritual leader of the Wea, and his brother Tecumseh, who was the Wea’s military and political leader.

The settlement was closely monitored by American forces, led by General William Henry Harrison, a native of Virginia, who had interests in American expansion into Indiana and Illinois.  In 1811, tensions were again mounting between the United States and the United Kingdom, basically over the rights to these very territories. The British, in what is now Michigan-and Canada-, were feeling boxed in, by the fact of the Louisiana Purchase.  American fur, and other agricultural, interests were pushing hard for a westward land link to Louisiana Territory.  As always, the indigenous people were caught in the middle.  Tecumseh and Tenkswatewa thought their lot lie with the British, so they held firm against any American approaches.  The upshot was that, on November 7, 1811, Harrison’s troops retaliated for what turned out to be a contrived, British-led attack on American settlers and attacked Prophetstown.  They found one old Wea woman there, and after moving her to a safe location, the American troops burned Prophetstown.  This was one precursor to the War of 1812.

Without further ado, some photos of the park, as it exists today.  Both Wea and more contemporary American buildings are preserved here.  The Wea structures shown are the chief’s house and the Longhouse, or Council House.

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Those who have followed this blog, for several years, may recognize a resemblance between this longhouse and that at Mission San Luis, in Tallahassee.  There was, in fact, much communication and trade between the nations of the Southeast and those of the Midwest, as well as with other regions.

Below, is a model of the village of Prophetstown, in miniature.

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Below, is one of several units for fur traders.

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Between the indigenous and white settlements, a section of short grass prairie is preserved.

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The next few scenes are those of the familiar Midwest farm settlement.

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Below, is a mound, possibly a burial mound similar to those found across the Midwest-such as the ones found near Chillicothe, Ohio and Cahokia, Illinois.

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Western Indiana is one of the areas where tall forest meets prairie.

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So, there is the background for tomorrow’s post:  The Battle of Tippecanoe, whose site I will visit, then.

The 2018 Road, Day 8: A Day of Being Blocked

6

June 3, 2018, Lowell, IN-

I set out, in earnest, for the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette at 9 a.m., fully intending to meet a mentor- friend who lives north of there, in a timely manner.  The problem was, I left at 9 a.m. from Carthage, on the west side of Illinois.  I stayed within the good graces of the law, clear to a point about 20 miles south of Rockford, getting there about 1 p.m.

Inching eastward, using a variety of state highways, I got to Wilmette way too late to visit with said mentor-friend.   So, takeaway # 1:  Never stay more than 2 hours from Chicagoland, if the goal is to meet someone in Chicagoland, the next day-even from Saturday to Sunday.  In fairness, the same holds true for New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco and even Philadelphia, where I will stay in the center of the city, in two weeks’ time.

Other things got done, spiritually. It is my eleventh visit here, and this is the first-and last-time that I have tried to make a same day visit to the Temple, from outside the 50-mile radius.  I also had a lovely full meal at Ridgeview Grill, a wonderful place on the west side of Wilmette, served by engaging and attentive Lisa D.  I think that will be my dining place of choice, in future visits to the House of Worship.

Needless to say, there are no photos from this Day of Being Blocked. I made it to a campsite here, in Lowell, IN, around 9 p.m.  Amen!

The 2018 Road,Day 6: Jerry-rigging and Resolving Confusion

2

June 1, 2018, Sedalia, MO-   I exited Limon, around 8AM, as the goal was to get across Kansas and to Sedalia as quickly as possible, as I had read what sounded like an invitation to a premier musical festival, Dutch treat of course, but interesting, nonetheless.  Just so we’re clear, I do not regard Kansas, or any place other than the ocean- as flyover country.

Here are a couple of reasons, one in particular, why I chose to stop in Limon last night.  Yes, they share our mascot!

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I headed out with a bit of the continental breakfast under my belt, and had a fairly easy drive- though I stopped several places en route, to reinforce the duct tape that is keeping a loose panel on my car in place.  Jerry rigging is not my favourite way of keeping things together, but it’ll not be until tomorrow before I can properly apply the JB Weld that’ll secure the piece for good- and then only weather permitting.  The wind across Kansas was especially vigourous today.  Otherwise, I stopped only in Colby for a hot dog and kept well on track.  Even Kansas City, at 6 P.M., was not a problem.

I arrived in Sedalia around 8 P.M., and found what was apparently the last single bed room in town.  Not surprising was this, given the International cast laid upon the Ragtime Festival, honouring Scott Joplin, a key promulgator of ragtime, who lived in Sedalia for several years and taught piano there.  One of Sedalia’s major thoroughfares is named in his honour.

I went downtown for about an hour, and learned that the person who invited me here was unable to join the festivities, tonight or tomorrow.  It took a fair amount of mental processing to figure that one out, but I did get some enjoyment out of the bit of ragtime that was being performed in a large brew pub- despite my not being one to go sit in a bar with people who have no interest in me as a person.

Sedalia is a lovely town, though, as we will see tomorrow.  In the meantime, here are a few scenes of downtown, by night.

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As Stupid Does

9

May 21, 2108, Prescott-

I woke this morning, to a message of excoriation, from someone who I deeply respect, but who can hardly be said to hold me in like regard.  It happens.

I’m no one’s slave, though I am gladly of service to many.  Don’t demand that I do your bidding or be at your beck and call.  I will serve a person’s needs because that’s what the Creator, through the Universe, has messaged me to do.

Slavery should never have happened, in the first place.  I hear, from minds more perceptive than mine, that extraterrestrials instituted the practice.  Whatever.  It should NEVER have been put into practice, period.

So now, as Dr. Joy DeGruy has so profoundly explained, in “Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome”, people of colour get to deal with the emotional and social sludge of slavery’s legacy.  People of pallour get to face up, and ‘fess up, to all that our forebears ignored and many of our contemporaries wish to sweep under the carpet or kick down the road.  Frantz Fanon and James Baldwin warned us of this, all those lovely years back, and who listened, exactly?

My angry correspondent dismissed me as just another stupid individual, not worth his time.  At least he has not banned me from reading his incisive work-so no loss on my part.  I will keep reading, and listening, and learning, because true stupidity comes from indulging in backlash, from putting up barriers, from being, “all in all……just another brick in the wall.” (Thanks, Roger Waters).

Instagram Maze

12

May 20, 2018, Prescott- 

In case anyone reads this, please give me a lesson on Instagram 101:  To wit- How can I access my phone keyboard, whilst on IG, so as to consistently write a text to go with the pictures that the site intermittently allows me to post?

Instagram is a cipher, with no clear means of explanation.

Peace, At Last?

4

May 19, 2018, Prescott- 

I reeled, a bit, at the latest slaughter on a school campus.   Truth be told, there isn’t much more room for me to be knocked over, anymore.  What the alt-right can’t refute, it denies completely. Yes, every time innocent kids are killed, my mind goes back to Sandy Hook, and the imbeciles who threatened a man who took in other people’s children and hectored the families of the slain.  I was angry enough, at that time, to go to Connecticut and dare them to continue with their outrageous attacks.  In the true sense of justice, they’d have faced charges of accessory to murder, after the fact.

I stayed put, here in Arizona, and while time has tempered my anger, it has not changed my view.  There was more than one killer, in Santa Fe, TX, yesterday.  The adults who bullied the young man who took so many lives (13, at last count) are just as guilty as he.   in addition, anyone who does him the disservice of excusing his actions, is an accessory to murder after the fact.  He gave himself up and, at least for now, is showing the courage to face justice for his deadly behaviour.

The larger question, ever since the Texas Tower slaughter of 1966, has been preventing the mentally ill from owning, or even having access to , any kind of deadly weapon, let alone a firearm.  I know there is a Federal law that allows confiscation of a weapon that has been specifically used to threaten the life of a person, because Bureau of Indian Affairs  police seized three guns from a man who had stated he would kill another man, back in 1998.  I know this, because I made the call that brought them into the matter.

I have been told, by my Congressman, that there are  a number of state and Federal laws that also regulate the possession and use of firearms by those not of age or of sound mind.  This is all well and good, but this passel of laws needs to be uniform. Otherwise, the many loopholes and jurisdictional disputes that allow illicit access to weapons- by people not affiliated with gangs or other criminal elements, but who are nonetheless a danger to self and others, will continue to find the path to mayhem all too enticing.

This leads me to mental health and bullying, which will be the next topics of discussion on this issue.

Putting My Foot Down

9

May 16, 2018, Prescott-

You say the only reason I am

involved with things

that don’t involve you,

is because I want to hide

from you.

You say the fact that

I do things that

are not directly

involved with matters

of faith

is because faith

is not my priority.

You say these things

and you are

just

plain

wrong.

Faith is my life.

You are not my overseer.

Faith is my life,

and I will work,

volunteer,

engage with community,

commune with nature,

travel the roads I choose,

with faith in my heart.

That heart soars, and

my feet are firmly on the ground.