Category Archives: Inner Struggles

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 5, Day 15

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Entertainment, Family, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 5, 2026- Granddaughter reveled, in eating pureed cabbage, this morning. She seems to revel in eating just about everything so far. (Zucchini being a question mark.) Hana is definitely a member of the Clean Plate Club, without being coaxed. If this persists through toddlerhood and the Fussy Eater years, so much the better.

Our day went well, with lots of independent play time in the pen, as well as Papa being in there, for the sake of reassurance and companionship. We explored a horseshoe-shaped side street, Chester Drive, which starts one block north and curves around to the east, behind our cul-de-sac. A young couple had just come back from Friday prayers, clad, head-to-toe in black. Otherwise, the street was quiet and empty. Hana didn’t mind the quietude.

As she napped, this afternoon, I read a piece about the Dutch director, Wim Wenders, who expressed regret for having depicted a certain actress in the nude, when she was only thirteen. He has removed the objectionable scenes from all versions of that film. The actress in question, now in her 60s, recently expressed how painful it has been, all these years, to have been so depicted in that film, and in two others a year, and three years, later. One hopes that the other two films may also be expunged of the tawdry scenes.

Many men, myself included for many years, gave scant thought to how it must have felt to girls and women baring all, in films, and even in glossy magazines. I knew better, by the time I was thirty, and Hana’s paternal grandmother had come into my life, along with the Baha’i teachings, which stress the dignity and worth of all human beings. Before that, there was always the double standard: A man’s (or boy’s) female relatives were held high above the world of sensuality. We respected our friends’ sisters and mothers also. There was a friend zone, which included a measure of respect, for the girls around us. Somehow, that did not extend to the world of “entertainment”.

More’s the pity. I started to take exception to the cavalier treatment of teenaged female actors, when very young girls were presented to audiences, in various states of deshabille. I did not watch any of those films, more out of shame over my past private thoughts and cavalier attitude. Then came Penny, our shared Faith and my career in education, which included the protection and guidance of girls and boys alike. There was no longer a double standard.

What this has to do with Hana is that, from Day One, her father and I are all the more committed to her well-being and development of her entire person. She is a sharp-eyed, intuitive person, making it all the more imperative for us to eschew any semblance of a double standard. Besides which, the old attitudes are just rotten for any man’s soul.

We are all so much more than eye candy.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 5, Day 14

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Education, Family, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, service, Social, Striving

June 4, 2026- My granddaughter had a few comments on the singing birds and on encountering the same mother and baby we met yesterday. She was quite happy with our walk, even along the somewhat bumpy grass path that brought us closer to our house, on the way back. It was warmer today, and the sun was more direct, but Hana was shielded by both a sun visor and her stroller’s canopy. Her skin was warm when we got back, so I put infant-safe lotion on her arms, legs and neck. Sunscreen is not recommended for children under the age of two.

She likes the solid foods to which she’s been introduced so far-and that includes the broccoli that she’s had for the past three days. Tomorrow, it will be cabbage’s turn. Sitting in a high chair, for ten-minutes, has also proven easier than I had thought. She sits straight and keeps her posture-and I have a tray in place, for extra support. Sitting in the chair for more than ten minutes is probably not a good idea until she can sit up straight, without support from furniture. Still, the high chair makes feeding easier.

She misses her parents, along about the time that her body clock tells her that they should be home. That is her challenge, but she also knows that she is safe with her Papa. Their schedules will even out, starting next week, so this should be less of a problem. Her awareness is, nonetheless, very keen.

Overall, though, Hana is a bright, engaging and generally happy little girl.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 5, Day 9

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 30, 2026- Today was the original Memorial Day, nee Decoration Day-when people would adorn their loved ones’ graves with flowers and other tokens of remembrance. After World War II, the name changed, unofficially. This was given Congressional approval in 1968. Even before the official change, at school in the 1950s, we would assemble and collectively recite a poem that began: “Tomorrow is Memorial Day. The soldiers will be marching, with banners waving high..” On this day, we think of what can be done for the greater good of humanity, while also focusing on the individuals in our families who have gone on, many having made the ultimate sacrifice/

Somehow, this brought me to think of both the larger and smaller things that are of importance in life, and in turn, the notion that our lives dovetail between concern with the greater good (“Macro”) and the small details and niceties (“Micro”). It’s a given, in today’s world, that things can increase in number and size, without end, and become smaller in the same manner. Whole numbers have no limit; neither do fractions. There are an infinite number of celestial bodies in the Universe, and there are an as yet unknown number of reductions that can be made in subatomic particles.

All this further made me look at how the phases of my life have dovetailed between Micro and Macro. As a child and teenager, my day to day concerns were with my family and the town of Saugus. Yet there was also an awareness of the wider world, and my interests ranged from the natural history of the planet to the quality of life for people in other parts of the world.

In my twenties, I turned fairly inward, not really letting anyone in and basically going through the motions of military service, college and the beginnings of my teaching career. In my thirties and forties, the focus turned outward again-a change in Faith, marriage, and dedication to a life of service, plus raising a child. In my fifties, the focus was Micro again-taking care of my wife, in her declining years, and ridding myself of negative thoughts and feelings about myself. From age 60 until last December, the focus was Macro again- a wide field of community service and lots of travel, both domestic and international-with a view towards expanding my network of friends.

Now, the focus is again largely Micro-my primary concern being the well-being and development of my granddaughter, Hana. It is also a hybrid life: In being a role model for her, I am gradually expanding my network here in Plano and the Dallas-Fort Worth Metro area. It will be important for her to see that these old bones still carry some weight. My network of friends and family across the continent, and the globe, also remains intact. Visits with them are in abeyance, but not finished. As my family’s life evolves, so will mine.

Worlds Within A World, Part V

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Slow Food Prescott, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 18, 2026- Mom once said, a boy becomes a man at forty. In my case, it was more like sixty-five.

As my son left for Navy Basic Training, at Great Lakes, north of Chicago, I determined that I would set out for parts unknown. I found that I had a flat tire, so that impulse faded and I went back to the Phoenix house. Two weeks later, I packed what I needed and drove to the family house in Prescott. I spent a few days, then went back and gave away five extended cab pickup loads to Goodwill. My auto body mechanic, Bill, all 6’9″ of him, hauled the stuff away, for $300 and my rocking chair. I loaded a few more boxes with me to take to Prescott, but before I closed up the Phoenix house and drove off, the place had one last hook to sink into me: When I turned off the washing machine faucets, the cold water valve broke. I managed to get to the shutoff bib, before too much water had leaked, but there was drywall that needed replacing, as well as the valve. I bartered with my landscaper, who lived down the street and was willing to do the work: The washer and dryer, a freezer and $200 worth of tools. I left the house keys with him and drove on up to Prescott.

Prescott world (2011-25) was the longest I lived in any one town since Saugus. I would go back and forth to Phoenix, until the sale closed, in 2013, but how I recovered and where, was all on me. I took to the road, a fair number of times, going back to the East Coast at least once a year, often twice. California, Nevada and the Pacific Northwest became regular haunts. I managed to re-visit every state, except Montana and North Dakota, plus several parts of Canada. The Philippines nearly became a second home, and I returned to South Korea for the wedding of Aram and Yunhee. I made it to Europe twice, visiting sixteen countries. Any one of those places could feel like home, and there were parts that did. Prescott, and Arizona, were always a delight to which to return. I devoted myself to hikes, both long and short, as well as soaking up the history of the Grand Canyon State.

Community service filled my days: Paid service in the form of substitute teaching and sweat equity, in Baha’i activities, at the Farmers Market, the Red Cross, Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, various events held by Slow Food- Prescott and a few activities of the American Legion. I paid back all the kindness that the town and surrounding area had shown us in 1992 and 2000-01. Most important, though, was that I regained the self-respect that had been bled from me, during the long period in the desert. I stood up to grifters and thugs, at least five times, during my time in Prescott, acquiring more stamina in the process.

I bid farewell to my mother, both of my in-laws and a fair number of extended family and friends, during this time. Each one gone, though, just made a place in my heart-so that it got bigger. I fell in love again, and might have even sought to re-marry, but for the birth of my beloved granddaughter. This event put an end to Prescott world and opened yet another phase. Plano world began on New Year’s Day.

Worlds Within A World, Part IV

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual

May 17, 2026- In January, 1998, Penny fell over her parents’ service dog, who was sleeping by our door, at the family home in Prescott. The resulting head trauma seemed slight, but we consulted a physician in Flagstaff, who treated her and monitored the situation. We had five more fairly good years, thereafter.

I learned three things from Chilchinbeto: Good-hearted people stand by one who keeps their best interests top of mind; those interested mainly in power and control have little concern for those best interests; troubled people need more time for their issues to be addressed, than is frequently allotted. My time there ended in May, 1999. Five other people succeeded me as Principal of that Community School, in a span of six years. The fifth person finally managed to stay more than a year, and achieved what I had planned to do in a second year. She did this in 2005. Sometimes, even the basic and the obvious must wait for the mud to settle and for the clouds to pass.

The Low Desert world (1999-2011) took us to Salome, where a former mentor was Superintendent of Schools, and needed an Acting Principal to serve one year, until a local favourite could get his certificate. That man was Assistant Principal, while I was there. Penny was the Special Education Teacher. My strength was in building a network, across the sprawling expanse of desert communities, visiting each of the feeder elementary schools once a quarter and meeting with the parents and community leaders, in each of the seven towns and villages within the District, once a semester. Advocating for the students and teachers also proved fairly successful.

We left Salome after a year. I got a Principalship at a school for adjudicated girls, outside Prescott and we lived there and in Mesa, outside Phoenix, during the 2000-01 academic year. I left that position after only seven months, due to physical and emotional exhaustion. It was at that point that I decided to focus mainly on substitute teaching and being available to go to Mesa, while Penny was enrolled in classes in technology, which she saw as being a major thrust in the economy in the years ahead.

In August, 2001, we took an apartment in Phoenix, Penny went to work full time in the Dysart Unified School District and I worked at two different schools in Phoenix, as well as doing part time work for an inventory service. The attacks on New York and the Pentagon foreshadowed what was ahead for us, and in April, 2003, two further incidents of head trauma started my wife’s physical decline in earnest. I was her caretaker from then until her passing in March, 2011. During that time, life went on, to the best of our collective ability. She worked until February, 2007, earned her third Master’s Degree-this one in Educational Technology. Our son graduated high school in 2006, tried his hand at community college study, but was mostly focused on his mother.

We purchased a home, shortly after Penny’s third fall, in May, 2003 and got off to a fairly good start in paying the mortgage. Then the housing bubble burst and our medical debt piled on. We learned the limits of our finances, and of the patience of some employers. With guidance from family and our own determination, we stuck together. I would never have left her; that is not how I was raised. I wanted to also set the example for our son, that no earthly challenge is insurmountable.

In 2010, Penny spent the year in a specialty hospital and I split my time between teaching assignments and her bedside. I partially renovated the house, painting the outside and much of the interior, and replaced the carpets, with help from our next door neighbour. My only regret is that I didn’t finish the interior painting, before Penny passed. In the end, I had to set priorities-and, with the house in short sale, the Low Desert world was coming to a conclusion.

We laid Penny to rest, Aram joined the Navy in July, 2011, and I began to pick up the pieces and show the world that there was still a purpose to my presence. The Prescott world began in August, 2011.

Worlds Within A World, Part III

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

May 16, 2026– As Penny and I settled into our temporary digs, in Osan, South Korea, the most compelling concern our American host had was that we not cross the chopsticks. It turned out to not be a problem for either of us-we knew how to use the implements already, having dined in several Chinese and Thai establishments in Arizona. There were aspects of Korean society that took more adjusting, but I learned to put the group first, to master the art of saving the face of anyone with whom I might be in conflict and to properly bow, in greeting a social equal or a superior. I adored the music, both traditional and pop, the eagerness to learn of my students, and the reverence for nature shown by most Koreans.

Most of our Korea years (1986-92) were spent on the holiday island of Jeju, a four season paradise, which had yet to attract the intensive Chinese and Japanese investment that has led to overdevelopment in the southern and north central parts of the island. It was another place that, in retrospect, was a five-year blessing. We were each Visiting Professors of conversational English, and taught our students in a holistic manner, linking speaking with reading and writing in our native tongue. We came to learn “market” Korean and to be able to read words written in Hangul. Our son was born there, and was blessed with a lifelong love of the country and its people.We spent a fair amount of time in Seoul, Daegu and Busan, as well, and before I left, I made a bus trip around the periphery of the country. We visited the island of Taiwan, also, establishing heart connections with both Han Chinese and Native Taiwanese people, while teaching the Baha’i Faith and engaging in community service. There are people in both countries who, while I am unlikely to see them again, will be deep in my heart always.

Baha’ullah admonishes His followers to choose honouring our parents over even direct service to His Cause. In January, 1992, Penny’s parents made it clear that they were hurting, both physically and emotionally, from not seeing their only grandson but once a year. So, we moved back to Arizona, where they lived in Prescott, six months of the year and in Bedminster, NJ, the rest of the time. We spent six months in Prescott, and I each worked as a substitute teacher, while Penny remained home with our toddler son. “Home”, during this time, ranged from a motel room to a townhouse. I admit to having been a bit shaky, emotionally, going from a high status position, where I was revered by many, to starting from scratch, as a temporary instructor. This was saved by a return to the Navajo and Hopi Nations (1992-99).

I was again a counselor, and Penny taught Second Grade for two years, then became a literacy specialist, using the Collaborative Literacy Intervention Program (CLIP). During this time, I was elevated by my second building principal, herself a seasoned counselor, to providing a holistic counseling program that included vocational and leisure time skills, as well as psychological and emotional counseling. I also completed my school administration credential, and in 1998, left Jeddito, where we had become settled, to try my hand at running a Navajo Community School. I had become a strong presence in the lives of many students in the Cedar Unified School District, and helped save a few lives. Ambition became a trap, though, and I learned. once again, in my year at Chilchinbeto, that there are people working in a school and living in the community, for whom the actual well-being of children is a secondary concern, at best. By the spring of 1999, Penny was starting to show signs of physical and cognitive decline, I was let go by the Governing Board at Chilchinbeto, and we found ourselves in the small desert town of Salome. As with Tuba City and Jeju, there are people in Jeddito and the Hopi Mesas who I will cherish.always, even if I don’t see them again.

Worlds Within A World, Part I

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

May 14, 2026- When I was serving in VietNam, my mates referred to the United States as “The World”. It was obvious that this was a euphemism, that the consensus was our homeland was, in effect, the place that mattered above all else. Our world was where family, closest friends and, for many, their sweethearts were waiting.

I have always been a globalist, seeing the people of other nations as having equal importance to me and mine, in the bigger picture. Yet, as I look at my life thus far, periods of time can be centered on a particular place, for a given number of years. Thus these 75 years have seen the following worlds.

The Saugus world (1950-1969)- Although I was born, and lived my first six months, in nearby Melrose, most of my growing up years were spent living in two houses in Saugus, Massachusetts. My wanderlust primarily saw me going around different neighbourhoods of the town, or to neighbouring Lynn. Mashpee, on Cape Cod, and the area between North Conway and Franconia, NH were part of the Saugus World, as they were our family vacation haunts. Other places in eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire and southern Maine were gradually added to my world-with Boston only entering the list in 1964, when I went with my father on the Freedom Trail. Camping, hiking and body surfing became my idea of fun during the Saugus years. I connected with a small group of neighbourhood kids, was in my share of scraps, had crushes on girls and attempted to attend college, then dabbled in factory work-neither of which my unfocused mind met with success.

The Army world (1969-72)- Training for, and working in, postal work took me away from Saugus. Home was, successively, in Fort Jackson, SC; Fort Benjamin Harrison, IN; Fort Myer, VA; Long Binh and Cholon, VN. I was happiest when on the job, then. I had a few close buddies, but mostly kept to myself. During training, I stayed put, save for a “Most Improved Trainee” weekend pass to Myrtle Beach, SC and a few weekend nights in Columbia and Indianapolis. While in Fort Myer, I became well-acquainted with Washington, DC and learned the train and air shuttle routes between Washington and Boston. Viet Nam obviously was a constricted period, though I took R&R in Sydney for a few days and enjoyed a day in Vung Tau, a beach town near Saigon.

The College World (1972-76)- Once out of the Army, I was more focused and completed Associates and Baccalaureate work, living the first two years again mostly in Saugus, save a brief residence in Beverly, near the campus of North Shore Community College. During this time, I went on a week’s road trip to Prince Edward Island, went to Montreal and Quebec Ville, three or four times, worked several part-time jobs and hit the club scene way too often. I lived in and around the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, for the last two years of this period. Northampton and South Deerfield replaced the Orchard Hill dorms as home, during my last 1 1/2 years of school.

The Maine world (1976-78)- Not all of my life decisions have been good ones. After graduating college and substitute teaching in Saugus and North Reading, with limited success, I went back to a resort in Maine, where I had worked two years earlier. Life at Quisisana was maudlin at best, but I made busing tables a focus and the summer passed nicely. At summer’s end, with no job prospects in eastern Massachusetts and no real attachment to the Amherst area, I went north, to Bangor, as it was near Orono, where I had paternal relatives,and an ancestral connection in Old Town. There was a young lady to whom I was drawn, but it fizzled quickly. I got a small tutoring gig, then a job teaching Emotionally Disabled middle schoolers, followed, the next year by a stint as Title I Tutor. Bangor, Brewer and Dexter were my anchor towns, Etna-Dixmont School paid the bills and the mountains near Kingfield were my solace. I explored all parts of Maine and a good chunk of New Brusnwick, during this time.

After my second year of treading water, it was time to move along. Arizona beckoned, and thus came another world.