The water systems technician gave me a short briefing on the workings of wellheads, their supporting tanks and pumps, and how bacteria can flourish in even the best- maintained systems, if flow is interrupted or stagnates.
He then took samples to test for not only bacteria, but for levels of nitrates, lead and arsenic, as well. The results won’t come back soon enough for this camp, but will result in a modernization of the system.
Relying on expertise in such matters is very important to me, at the very least for people’s safety and health, as well as for the good of the system itself. There is much we are learning about the interaction of water, minerals and microbes, so DIY can’t always be an option.
For the rest of the camp, bottled water will be the source of all beverages.
June 9, 2024, Bellemont- Today was Race Amity Day, across the United States, in advance of Juneteenth, a national celebration of the end of slavery in its last American bastions. Many Baha’i-sponsored Race Amity Day events took place in cities large and small. Here at the youth camp, we are living it. Several of the campers are from Democratic Republic of Congo. Others are from Brazil and there are people of Filipino, Dineh, Mexican and Iranian descent, as well as those whose ancestors came from Europe some time ago. There is amity in spades and any conflicts that might arise are more from misunderstandings than from any animus that is based on ethnic or cultural differences.
Day 3 is at an end and I am exhausted, after a bit more physical labour today. Other team members worked just as hard and will be hopefully appreciated by the campers, when Friday rolls around. I am just glad to be of use.
The one aspect of human relations that stands out on Race Amity Day is the matter of avoiding assumptions. Only a good measure of patience can keep that from happening, as well as considering a person’s behaviour or apparent attitude, from a number of angles. So I am making myself do, not so much in regard to the teenagers, as with respect to adults. So far, that forbearance has kept a few working relationships from hitting the rocks. Things are better between me and a few of the chaperones, than they were last year. May that continue throughout the camp.
The fire concerned all of us, starting as it did, two days before camp. I kept an eye on things, getting updates from the U.S. Forest Service, the Arizona National Guard and a retired Air Force major, who is the area’s State Senator. The fire, called Bravo, was south of Camp Navajo, a military training site. That brought military firefighting units, including slurry planes, to bear on the fire suppression.
The crews won their battle and, by noon, the blaze was mostly contained. Our camp could proceed. I stopped and celebrated this fortunate turn of events, with a fabulous, relaxing lunch at Mustang River Grill, off the beaten track, in Parks, a small forestry town, just west of Bellemont. I had intended to get a modest meal at a small market, north of the Texaco, but there was Mustang, a fairly new place, and well worth a try. Kimberly, a Nevada transplant, takes great care of all patrons and the lunch portions are well-prepared and just the right size.
That is probably the last meal I’ll be buying, this camp, as our three squares are part of the camp experience, and I haven’t had a bad meal as Bellemont camp manager, yet. The campers and their chaperones/tutors arrived right on time and we got the orientation out of the way, followed by an excellent spaghetti & meatballs dinner. The kids went through ice-breaker activities, after the meal, and now they lay them down down to sleep. Think I will do the same.
June 5, 2024- I read, a few days ago, about the “green glacier”-a euphemism for the growth and spread of junipers, also called red cedars, across a wide swath of tall-and-short-grass prairie, from north Texas to North Dakota. Trees are also spreading in the Canadian prairies, but more by design, and with less adverse effect.
Adverse effect? On the environment? From tree planting? Well, it seems that too many trees, in an area that is historically steppe, can serve to do things like darken the ground and make it hard for CO2 to escape back into the atmosphere. Too many trees can, in the view of some environmentalists, actually exacerbate global warming in the Plains states. My own view is that we hardly need to replace tall and short grasslands with forests, but that some forests are a good addition to the Prairie. I have hiked in small forests, in the Dallas area, when visiting my little family. On a torrid July day, being in the woods is never half bad-with proper bug repellent keeping insects and arachnids at bay and sunscreen/headgear on, for good measure, just as I would do anywhere else. I have, likewise, enjoyed outings all up and down the Great Plains, in forested areas.
Heat is here, at Home Base I-with June usually being the hottest, driest month of the year-closely followed by the post-monsoon portion of September. June Gloom doesn’t exist, this far inland, but we do share September Swelter with southern California. The high summer months are actually tempered, somewhat, by monsoon rains-at least here in the Central Highlands and in the mountains north and east of here.
I am fine, though, with ceiling fans, a window box A/C, plenty of water and an Amish drying rack for my clean clothes, freshly washed in cold water. Stay cool, calm and collected, wherever you are-and may humanity keep getting a handle on global warming.
June 4, 2024- There was a fair amount of activity in downtown Winslow, as I approached my favourite spot there: Relic Road, which is also called Sipp Shoppe. The place is another of those that just has a relaxed and welcoming vibe, so being time for lunch, I stopped in for a bit-and was revived, somewhat, for the drive down mountain to Camp Verde and on back here to Home Base I. Of course, I pulled over, about ten miles shy of Happy Jack and took a power nap, but between the two, lunch and rest did the trick. Journey # 1 of 2024 is a wrap.
A day or so ago, I got a text from one of the other volunteers at Solid Rock soup kitchen, asking if I would be there that night. I was still in northwest Texas, at that point in time, and so, just fed him my schedule and the next time I would be on the serving line. June is Arizona-centric, but somehow not a whole less busy. Tomorrow, I head downtown and join another Baha’i to meet with our Congressman’s staff, regarding the situation of the Baha’is in Iran, who as readers know, are being actively persecuted by some in positions of power in that country.
Friday starts 8 days at Bellemont, a Baha’i facility west of Flagstaff, where I will oversee the camp operations for a gathering of Youth (ages 16-20). This will be the largest event I have run, since the Red Cross shelter in Watsonville, a year ago in April. As was the case then, a wonderful, competent team is in place, so all issues that arise will be ably handled.
There are other activities this month, and for some reason, they all fall on Saturdays. My presence at Farmers Market’s breakdown, therefore, will be negligible, until August. That raises the issue of inconvenience. What is a chance to be useful to one person or group takes away from others. Solutions? There are a few-and I started with gentling reminding myself that there are 80,000 + people in this mini-Metro. Any presumption that an event will fail because I am not there is an ego trip that is best nipped in the bud. My friends know my heart, and will be able to carry on just fine when life takes me elsewhere.
We are not here to be creatures of convenience to others, but only are here to do the best we can, when and where we can be there. The flip side, of course, is to not be in the way-as I assured someone I love especially dearly, this evening, regarding time I will spend in and around her area, in the Fall. Life is an unending series of carefully choreographed dances, unending focuses of attention, that require careful judgment, as to when to engage and when to stand back. As my mother taught us, “It’s not about ME”.
Albert Camus, in his essay on the myth of Sisyphus, makes the summation: “What counts is not the best living, but the most living.” I would go one further step: What counts is the most of the best; the latter meaning Offering one’s own best, in the most situations.
June 3, 2024. Moriarty- The world is not so much finite, as it is a place of temporary systems. Each system has its unlimited aspects, each can only hold so much, at any given time. A stomach can only hold so much food; a cerebrum can only focus on so many thoughts, at any given time; a bladder can only hold so much fluid; a bank or credit union can only hold so many accounts; a border station can only process so many visitors, properly, on any given day-and so on.
Eventually, any given lack can be replenished. Any given problem, no matter how novel, can be solved. So it is, that I focus my energies on meeting some expenses as they occur, paying others in advance and making provisions for the maintenance and replenishment of my savings, however much they may be temporarily be needed in the interim. So it is, that I schedule time at Home Base I, no matter that I might be called away again-as is the case this weekend and next week, as well as in the second half of July-and in the Fall. So it is that time is set aside for health-related check-ups, and regular cycles of exercise, diet and rest, as a means of avoiding serious illnesses down the road.
Today was a long drive-from Grapevine (Home Base II) across a vast swath of northwest Texas and eastern New Mexico, to this favoured way station, roughly 30 minutes east of Albuquerque. I did not stop to visit friends along the way, because it is a workday and because I need to focus on choreographing the rest of my week rather tightly. A surprisingly nice lunch, at a Pilot Travel Center, in Rhome, TX and a few stops for refueling along the way, made the whole day flow. This coming Wednesday until Friday of next week is a busy time, mostly for faith-based activities. “To whom much is given, much is expected.”
May 30, 2024, Ruleville, MS- There is a small mound, in the Shiloh Indian Mounds National Historical Landmark, that indicates the former dwelling place of a family of some status, in the vibrant community that once occupied a large area here, just west of the Tennessee River. On either side of the small mound is a larger mound, used for burials. The westernmost of these was used by the 28th Illinois Infantry Division, as a temporary burial site for its dead, after the Battle of Shiloh, in April,1862. The dead men were later laid to rest at Shiloh National Cemetery.
Shiloh,in Hebrew, means “tranquil; abundance”. The place bearing the name, in southwest Tennessee, was once that. In March and April, 1862, that all changed. The Civil War had come to western Tennessee and northern Mississippi. General Ulysses S. Grant had brought his troops int o the area, after a signal victory at Fort Donelson, north of Nashville, Facing them was the Confederate Army of the Mississippi, led by General Albert Sidney Johnston, based in Corinth, a major railroad hub and link between Memphis, Nashville and New Orleans. It was Corinth that was Grant’s true target. 23,000 men would die, in the course of this battle, making it the bloodiest episode in the American Civil War. https://npplan.com/parks-by-state/tennessee/shiloh-national-military-park-park-at-a-glance/shiloh-national-military-park-history-of-the-battle-of-shiloh-and-corinth/
Shiloh, prior to the battle, was a humble village of farmers, who had settled the area around 1816, having come by river, from Knoxville and Nashville. Farmers from Savannah, Georgia named the nearby County Seat for their former place of residence. Shiloh was named after a settlement in Samaria that had been referenced in the Bible (Jeremiah, 7:12-15.)
I have long wanted to visit this site, being dissuaded only by its remoteness and other more pressing concerns, when traveling to/from other parts of Tennessee. Today, there was lots of time, so I made three separate loops around the park, focusing somewhat on Pittsburg Landing and on the Shiloh Mounds. Here are some scenes of those loops, as well as of the short trail through the Mounds preserve.
Iowa Infantry Memorial, Shiloh National Military Park
Graves of comrades from Illinois, Shiloh National Cemetery, overlooking the Tennessee River, above Pittsburg Landing
View of Tennessee River, at Pittsburg Landing.
Site of wooden palisade, built by Iroquoian residents of Shiloh area, around 1200 A.D./C.E. It is not known why this wooden wall was built.
Burial Mound, Shiloh
Replica of Shiloh Meeting House (Church), which had served as General Johnston’s headquarters during the first parts of the battle
I left, rather shaken, especially after viewing the film about the carnage, Given current tensions in the nation, right now, it is instructive for anyone with a conscience to take time and review what happened, when the idea of enslavement of others became somehow conflated with the notion of preserving freedom. Nationhood is NOT a zero sum game.
Driving south and west, I made a brief visit to Sumner, MS, where the courthouse at which the accused killers of 14-year-ole Emmett Till were acquitted of murder charges. They later admitted having committed the crime. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmett_Till
Tallahatchee County Courthouse, where Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam were acquitted of the murder, to which they later confessed.
I had had enough of carnage and injustice, for one day, and have settled in for the night at Ruleville Inn, in the hometown of Civil Rights icon Fannie Lou Hamer. It’s a modest, but clean little place- albeit one where guests provide their own towels and wash cloths. The bed is new, though, and the TV works nicely.
May 28, 2024, Harrisonburg, VA- There are always a few dozen reasons why any given thing can happen. It struck me as odd, that the driver of the dark grey sedan followed me, a bit too closely, from the exit on I-81, to Motel 6, and kept on driving when I pulled up to the office. It was not anything that would have fed suspicion, or paranoia. He actually already had a room in back and apparently just was in a hurry to get back there.
A friend and I had a conversation, this morning, about someone known to both of us, who makes everything about self. It could be something that involves the person directly, or is only tangential to the soul’s life, but this individual is a past master at being front and center.
I, myself, try not to be. Recently, I have conducted a pair of transactions, on behalf of someone about whom I care deeply. These are a bit more complicated than I had expected, so my messaging to the other person has been more frequent than either of us might normally prefer. I was finally able to get the companies involved to correctly address the products being sent, but it made for a nerve-wracking day, at least for me and for a third party who is receiving the items on the other end. Fortunately, not much money was involved; it was just time and energy that were sapped.
I stopped here, in Harrisonburg, because it has been one of those days, when I just could not go any further. H’burg’s significance to me is as a safe haven. I can totally rest here, and not have to concern myself with anyone’s expectations. That started years ago, when a young lady named Jasmin had me sit in the most comfortable chair in her cafe, because it looked at that point like I could go no further. Jas, and The Artful Dodger, are in H’burg’s past now, but the ambiance of the place is still salubrious. Mishawaka and Ocean Beach are in that same vein.
There are differences in the roles that many places of significance play in my life. Prescott and Grapevine are full-on homes, with all the various roles played by a Home base. Exton, the North Shore and Spring Hill are places to connect with family, yet mostly in neutral settings, for various reasons. Grand Canyon, Bisbee, Santa Fe,Victoria, Cape Breton, and now Corner Brook are places to relax somewhat and connect with spiritual kin. Carson City, Oley, Boothbay Harbor and Taos are even more in that category. The jury is still out on the Philippines, but the next few weeks will indicate what significance that country, and some of its people, are to have in my life.
Mostly, though, is what significance I have in my own life and in those of the people I adore. Much depends on what is going on in our respective lives, so I have reached the point where whatever interaction I have with treasured people is golden.
Having had a quiet afternoon and evening to myself, I no longer feel like a stuck pig.
May 25, 2024, Bethlehem, PA- I was drifting off to another blissful sleep, and the unmistakable sound, from years of running drills at various schools, got me out of bed and out of the building, in a flash. There I was, pajama-clad, and in sockless shoes, with a slowly-accumulating gathering of fellow guests, and the few staff who didn’t need to be in the office. “It’s just like school, huh?”, I remarked to an excited little girl, as her father grimaced and shook his head. The whole episode lasted twenty-five minutes, the police officer gave the all-clear and we headed back inside, as the seven firefighters continued their inspection of the wiring and checking for signs of (illegal) indoor smoking, or untended cooking. (This is an extended stay establishment, and there are two flat stove burners, in each room, as well as a microwave oven-which could lead to burnt popcorn.) The Cuban maintenance director, sounding like Desi Arnaz on steroids, promised he’d find out if anyone was responsible for the mayhem. All I know is, it wasn’t me-and probably wasn’t the guy standing next to me, who looked as if he were a clean-shaven Rip Van Winkle.
My last night in New England, for this trip, anyway, came to an end with a small purchase of a coffee and empanada, from 7-11, and a farewell to Nitey-Nite Motel’s owner, who barely looked up from his game of Solitaire, as I dropped off the key card. That’s okay; he offers clean, quiet rooms at a decent price. Hartford and Waterbury were a breeze to get past. Danbury was still Danbury-the same jockeying for position, at the split between U.S. 7 and I-84, leading some of us to wait 2-3 seconds in the inner lane of 7, before a quick break let us onto the 84.
It’s been a while since I stopped at Arlene and Tom’s Family Diner, Port Jervis. The same “Home of the Free, because of the Brave” sign is there, and the TV is still set to Newsmax. The pastrami is still among the best in the Catskill region, though, so that’s what matters most. Besides, it is always good to know what both sides are thinking, in this cosmic stew that is America, and the world, in 2024.
This visit to New England, and to the northeast Atlantic region beyond, reassured me of everyone’s love. Seeing cousins from both sides of the family, being able to repay Mom for all the nurturing she has given, over seven decades, being with my three siblings in a delightful dining room, visiting the graves of my father and baby brother, visiting a boyhood friend and connecting with Baha’is in Cape Breton Island, Corner Brook (NL) and Green Acre Baha’i School have made the month an exemplary one. Starting May off with a visit to the House of Worship certainly helped, in terms of spiritual energy. There was more interest in the Faith, from family and friends, this time around. Mom even read some prayers from my book. I was sent forward with top-notch pizza in Mishawaka, and, despite the jibes from someone I love very much, managed to keep in the good graces of hoteliers from Gallup to South Windsor. Time on the French-ruled island of St. Pierre was the icing on this very rich cake.
Now I am in Pennsylvania, with this hotel, an Air BnB and a private guest room as places of rest, during this second round of family visits. This evening was another special event-well before the fire drill. I visited these fine people, enjoyed fabulous Persian rice, salad and soup, with copious amounts of jicama and watermelon for dessert. I was also edified by the various “Got Talent” clips of performances by American and British senior citizens-most of whom were extraordinarily talented.
I also was briefly introduced to Tatamy Village’s community park.
May 20, 2024, Moncton- There was fury, then consternation, on the face of the well-coiffed woman, as she pulled around Sportage, after blaring her horn, twice, after I stopped at the edge of the gas station driveway to take a stranded couple a kilometer or two, up the road. It was not convenient, or easy, for any of the four of us. She, however, was able to just go around, and on her way. I moved a few things in the back seat, making room for the young woman, with her husband getting in the front. After they were dropped off, I moved everything back.
Ernie, Meena and Theresa Johnson
This transpired a short time after I visited some Baha’i friends in Eskasoni, NS, apprising them of the concerns of another Miqmaq friend who I visited in Corner Brook, on Saturday night. Mr. Ernie Johnson listened to my account of our mutual friend’s concerns and offered a history of that family’s contributions to the growth of the Baha’i Faith in Ontario, Alberta and Nova Scotia, especially in Cape Breton and Ottawa. Now, he surmised, our friend has yet another opportunity. After suggesting that he and others pay a visit to the Baha’is of Corner Brook, and being showered with gifts, including two delightful tuna salad sandwiches, I headed out towards the lower Maritimes, bidding farewell to blessed Cape Breton Island.
After the above incident at the gas station, I pondered whether I was biased in favour of the poor and downtrodden, over the seeming well-to-do, in terms of service acts. It was not long, before the Universe called me on that one. By the side of the road there stood a forlorn-looking man, the trunk of his car raised, and a spare tire resting against the rear right bumper. I stopped the SUV, pulling well into the gravel breakdown area, and went to see if I could assist.
It turned out that a tire was flat. He was having difficulty removing the lug nuts, with his rather small tire wrench. I offered to give it a try, and after several toggles between my stepping on the long part of the wrench and his adjusting his car jack downward, we managed to get the lug nuts removed, the tire off, spare tire on and lug nuts returned and suitably tightened. His drive to a speaking engagement, some distance eastward was assured. The gentleman turned out to be a former councilman from the capital city of Ottawa, whose focus was on public transportation. He is also a poet, and in gratitude, he gave me a copy of his latest book of verse. So, it matters little whether one is prince of pauper. I will help anyone in need, to the best of my ability.
I drove on, through Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, stopping only in New Glasgow, to pick up a couple of items and here, the home of Magnetic Hill, to rest at a lovely Amsterdam inn & Suites.
A Sagittarian Seeker 