True Blue

0

April 11, 2026- The penultimate speaker, in this evening’s memorial to the late Baha’i teacher, Glenford Mitchell, began by noting that the hour was getting late, and saying he would be brief. He then went on for ten minutes. No reminiscence about Mr.Mitchell could ever be ever be brief, though he himself was the model of brevity, in his talks and speeches. He simply meant too much, to too many people.

I sat for the live-streamed broadcast of this memorial because of the tenor of Mr. Mitchell’s work. An early founder of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Council (“Snick”) and co-author of “The Angry Black South” (1962), he became enamoured of the Teachings of Baha’ullah, first taught him by his paternal uncle, in his native Jamaica and coming again to the fore of his heart while he lived in Raleigh, NC as a student at Shaw University. Glenford threw himself more fully into Baha’i work and by dint of his devotion and work ethic, was elected to one Baha’i administrative body after another, serving fourteen years on the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of the United States, then twenty-six years on the Faith’s Supreme Body: The Universal House of Justice.

In his later years, Mr. Mitchell’s health declined, but his spirit kept on and he continued to welcome friends and family to his home, even if he could no longer walk or speak. His wife and family stood by him, and saw that his declining years were not those of misery. Glenford Mitchell’s spirit remained true blue-even through his passing on February 7.

Randy Smith, who also passed on recently, served the Baha’i Faith in Washington State and in Prescott Valley, AZ, for nearly thirty years. I knew Randy, and his wife, Linda, as steadfast, long-suffering community servants, in the Prescott area. Others recall the same about them, in the Olympia and Longview areas.Randy was most often found in his shop/garage, attached to the family home. He welcomed neighbours, including youths, who were either interested in his various projects or who simply wanted to borrow tools. He also spent long hours with his grandchildren, either when the family came up from the Phoenix area or when he and Linda went down there for a visit.

Randy was a quiet man, who shunned the limelight, but he was most often the first to arrive at a gathering, and one of the last to leave. Making sure a job was complete was his trademark. If that involved learning a new skill, well, that was a natural outgrowth of his upbringing in Ketchikan, at the southeastern tip of Alaska. Randy was also true blue.

It was my good fortune to have become familiar with Mr. Mitchell’s life and work and to have known Randy as a personal friend. May there more people who show themselves, like the scholar and the tradesman, as True Blue.

Time Frames

0

April 9, 2026- I was the first person top arrive at Baha’i Feast, this evening. Sometimes, this is awkward, if the host is busy setting up at the last minute, but tonight’s host was gracious and we sat in conversation for several minutes, until the next few friends arrived. As it happened, they dawdled on the sidewalk and steps, finishing their own conversations, before entering. The host opened and closed the door a couple of times, before the friends were ready to come in.

I was raised to arrive on time, preferably five minutes early. On my own, I have adhered to that- and in Prescott, I made that ten minutes early, as many of the members of any given group were transplants from places where “if you’re on time, you’re late” was the mantra. In one situation, a few people decided they would be the first to arrive-and they were, getting to the gathering ( a breakfast) even before the cooks!

In my married years, Mr. On Schedule was happy with Last Minute Lucy. Penny was determined that she would finish what she was doing at home, before we set out for an engagement. That left a few feathers ruffled, over the years, but I always took her side. The punctualists, though I agreed with them in principle, came across like Der Burgermeister- more officious than humane.

Aram has grown to be committed to being on time, simply because,as with me, that strikes him as being courteous. Yunhee is usually ready to also be ahead of schedule. Hana, so far, goes by her body clock and wakes pretty much on time for every feeding, having enough energy to do some activities for an hour, or ninety minutes, after her meal. She is fairly easy to get to nap, when it’s time and sleeps pretty much through most nights.

I still wake with the birds and get to bed well before midnight, each day. The fullness of a day’s schedule, whether caring for my granddaughter or meeting an occasional appointment, is perfectly satisfying.

Bloodlines

0

March 17, 2026- Today being St. Patrick’s Day, my thoughts go to the Irish heritage on both my mother’s and father’s sides. The Kusches, who hailed from Szcezcin, Poland, back when it was Stettin, Pomerania, ended up in St; Louis and Chicago, by the mid-19th Century. Papa Kusch journeyed east, as a young man, and became a shoemaker in Boston, and a small farmer in Saugus. Before they were Kusches, though, they were Cooks-in the area around Wexford, Ireland. Poverty, and the Hanseatic League’s allure, brought them to the Baltic shores. The family was proud of having been prosperous in Germany, and in the Midwest, and I heard little about our Irish roots, but I always felt a draw to the Emerald Isle. Mom had me pledge to look into her side of the family, when we talked of the genealogy that my Dad’s older brother had compiled. I thought that meant going to Pomerania, but last summer’s visit to Wexford, and nearby Rosslare, brief as it was, introduced me to a few people who looked strikingly like my mother and aunts. I later learned their family name was Cook. Part of me wants to go back and spend more time there, but that will need to wait.

My granddaughter will have far taller order, should she ever want to check out her roots. Half of her bloodline is Korean, and there are probably some Chinese ancestors. going way back. The other half is Heinz 57: German, English, Irish, French, Penobscot, Jewish, Lithuanian, Romanian, and Scottish. Her present and near term well-being, though, has me refocusing my energies. The journeys I undertake in the foreseeable future are all along the paths of introducing a little soul to the wider world.

That brings me to a separate point. There was once, at a Baha’i-sponsored conference in Florida, a zone set aside for protesters. Neo-Nazis and Black Separatists found themselves next to one another, in that small zone. There are, on both the Far Right and Far Left, those who today preach the credo of division. The truth about human relations is “whatever we say it is”, and any who call for reconciliation between ethnic groups or “racial” entities are accused of clinging to outmoded, discarded concepts. I beg to differ: It is the very divisions to which they cling that are outmoded, counterproductive and dangerous. Clothing them in academic jargon, or using tones of ridicule, do nothing to bring a longed-for peace. I have to wonder if peace is even what they want- or is conflict more alluring?

Regardless, as Hana and others of her generation show, bloodlines are no respecters of truly outmoded ideologies.

Cyclical

0

February 20, 2026- I heard a few days ago, and read this morning, that with Saturn and Neptune converging astrologically at O degrees Aries, a 6000 year cycle has come to an end and that a new one has begun. Savvier people than I, with regard to astrology, will have a clearer understanding of what that means,in that particular sense.

I do know, though, that there is, and has been, a unifying energy around the planet, released in 1844 by al-Bab and energized even more in 1863, by Baha’ullah. Like most such processes, it has been slow to unfold, even with two world wars, several civil wars in various nations (including the United States), a global economic depression, a global pandemic and various countries choosing to live-for a time-under authoritarian rule. The unity of the human race, however, is sure to be one of the processes that arise out of this new cycle. It cannot be imposed on us. We must choose it for ourselves. Truthfully, though, I don’t see that we have many other options.

It was said, two days ago, that many shopworn institutions will continue to collapse and fade away, with new institutions, more fitting for this day and age, rising up to take their place. We certainly are seeing that-and I am not talking about models of Artificial Intelligence whose main feature is the exacerbation of human greed. I am talking more about grassroots efforts at improving the quality of life-from language preservation activities, to experiments in backyard farming, to co-operative small groups of parents raising children across familial lines,to alliances of countries that are not being organized by one or more “major powers” .

I want to mention that in my own life, another sea change has taken place. Just as in 1981-82, I became a Baha’i. left the Roman Catholic faith, relinquished alcohol dependency and entered into wedlock; as in 1986-92, we left the United States and learned to live in the beautiful land and culture of South Korea, becoming parents to a beautiful little boy; as in 2011, I laid my beloved wife to rest, let go of a house and community in Phoenix and moved to Prescott, traveling widely and also devoting many hours to community service, so now has the call of grandparenthood been answered and a new community become my Home Base.

One cycle ends, indeed, and another begins.

Composed

0

February 7, 2026- Hana has decided she likes her bath. It helps that the weather has moderated and the bathroom does not have any draft coming in through the window. She is a warm weather girl, and is also very appreciative of being clean. She was happy through the bath tonight, and even more so for the feeding that came afterward. Food, at least the kind that comes with infancy, is definitely a big winner with Hana.

I hear that my own composed demeanour is rubbing off on her. After 75 years, I simply don’t see anything about which to lose composure. There are plenty of bad actors who’d like nothing better than to rattle everyone’s cage. I think it’s best that those folks just go back and get their own houses in order, especially if they wield power. We need not give them the satisfaction of keeping us unbalanced.

I was fortunate to have met several members of the Plano Baha’i Community, who are a cross section of generations. All but one of them is of Persian descent, all but one having come here after the Islamic Republic was established. The ongoing persecution of the Baha’is in Iran is also designed to take attention away from the thievery and self-aggrandizement of a relatively small class of people, who happen to be well-connected clerics, paramilitary and sycophants to the first two. Increasingly, though, the common folk are not buying the deception, especially if they happen to know Baha’is personally.

The vast majority of the Baha’is still in Iran are likewise composed, law-abiding citizens of that country, who have broken no laws, save the dictum that everyone should be Muslim, or certain approved Christian or Jewish organizations. Perhaps our composure comes from the realization that our physical lives are not the entirety of our existence-and that those who spend their physical power capital on the temporary control of the masses will come to rue the day they crossed certain lines.

I know I’ve lived a good life, by and large, and have learned from my mistakes, That alone justifies my composure.

Firmness

0

February 6,2026- The gentleman introduced himself and grasped my hand firmly in his. He then asked, “How old do you think I am?” He looked to be about 80, so that was my guess. He said that he is 89. His mind is as keen as his handshake is firm. Thus, I have another role model to guide me through the next fourteen years of this life, God willing and the creek doesn’t rise.

I attended my Baha’i sector group’s observance of the Feast of Mulk (Dominion), making my first visit with members of my new Faith Community. We gather in the homes of those who have the space and wherewithal to host our spiritual Feasts (prayers, administrative reporting & consultation, and social fellowship). Holy Days, and the coming Ayyam-i-Ha (Intercalary Days), February 25=March 1, are celebrated in the Plano Baha’i Center, which I last visited three weeks ago.

Firmness in body is best matched by firmness in spirit and faith. Fervent Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and adherents to Indigenous beliefs know this, as well. I am confident that humanity will continue to trend towards wider applications of both cogent, proven health practices and a more broad-based view of the Divine Plan for our planet. Contrived regimens, in either area, are appealing, especially to those who are skeptical of spiritual traditions and/or established health practices. A firm command of reality, however, calls for us to be discerning, yet open-minded, in investigating these matters. Charlatans are all too eager to lead people astray, by playing on fears.

Back at the house, I found that Hana and her mother were staying firm in their routine, and I settled in to help with the little angel’s night routine, while her father is at a monthly Reserve Drill.

First Thing

2

January 18, 2026-

I was glad to be invited to a Baha’i Feast this evening. I didn’t attend because my kids took Yunhee’s Mom out to dinner and found themselves waiting in line for an hour.

Hana and I held down the fort at home. We just looked at a big plush toy with valentine heart eyes and felt its softness. I told her about the need to sometimes be patient and how so many things that her soul wants will take time to happen.

She will understand this and much else, in less time than we might imagine. She sees things that adults can’t and seems comforted by them. She also knows, on a very basic level, that her safety and well-being are the most important things to us.

So, if I am asked to be somewhere and my grandchild needs me, I will take a rain check on the invitation.

Thumb Rockets

0

January 7, 2026- “Let me show you a trick that your granddaughter will think is the stupidest thing she ever saw”, the new friend from McKinney said over lunch at a local deli. He proceeded to have me wrap a piece of paper around my thumb, and twist it to make a little “hat” for the thumb. He’s right; I think Hana would roll her eyes at that part, when she is about eight or nine. He then had me make an OK sign with my other thumb and forefinger, put it around my wrapped thumb and pull the thumb out of the paper, but in such a way that it made the paper go up and out- a thumb rocket.

D is an interesting man who has not had an easy life. That puts him in good company with a number of people I’ve known over the years. The difference is, he’s made mostly good choices, from the time he was a child. Growing up in the north of this Metroplex, when it was a long ways from being a Metroplex, he’s seen it all happen. Still, as I watched, the farmer in him caught a small rat by the tail and disposed if it in a way that a man who has plowed through hard knocks for eight decades would do without batting an eyelash. (No, that was NOT in the deli).

Time with a good ole boy is spent in a way similar to how time is spent with a First Nations person, a nomad of the Negev, or a campesino anywhere in the Southwest or Mexico. The watch stays hidden, because schedules don’t matter. D told stories of his childhood and his large family. A lot of his experiences mirror those of my male elders. Farm life is a great connector. After the nearly ninety-minute lunch, I drove around the area a bit, to ponder all that I had heard.

I will see D., and other local Baha’is, on a regular basis, so perhaps I will earn other “tricks” that will make my granddaughter alternately giggle and groan.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 5

2

December 30, 2025- Everything happens according to a blend of the needs and wants of those involved. I had a lot of downtime today, but while I waited for the DAV furniture crew, necessary calls to utilities were made, and I cleaned out the long-ignored storage shed in the carport. Lesson learned: Don’t let stuff from ten or fifteen years ago just sit, unattended. Most of it was in fairly good condition. Some was given to my dear friend, Melissa. Other items were happily claimed by my landlord, and a few things went to recycling or to the landfill.

The cleaning lady came on time and worked in the back, as it was cleared out. The furniture to be donated to Disabled American Veterans sat in the front room with me, while waiting for the movers to pick up. Melissa came in mid-afternoon, selected what she could use, and as she was ready to leave, lo and behold-there were Mo and Grant, ready to roll out the items the DAV could sell, and graciously take the other items to the dump-for a slight fee. Robert and I took care of the rest.

I had to forego both lunch with my hiking buddy and Feast at two Baha’i friends’ home, but this clear-out is done. I do not feel any wistfulness or sadness, leaving Prescott. Life is going forward, and I with it. The most precious beings in my life wait in Plano, my new Home Base and the place where I will settle by the end of this week. 2025 is coming to a close, but first, I will get to Gallup for the night.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 4

4

December 29, 2025- The normally effusive server seemed terribly unnerved by something, knocking over water glasses and delivering a cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand. I have been in a similar state, long ago, in a diner back East, so my empathy was present. Her more composed co-workers helped her keep steady, at least, and my meal was perfectly delicious. Still, I was concerned for her equilibrium and left a larger tip than usual.

This set me to thinking. Today’s post recognizes ten of the local people who made the most significant impressions on me, these past fourteen years. Not in order of importance, they are:

10. My hiking buddy, Akuura Kulak. Besides being equally enamoured as I am, of the beauty of the Southwest, and of Arizona in particular. We also have a similar appreciation for the cuisines of East and South Asia. She is a spot-on reader of people’s astrological charts and purveyor of scents, as well as essential oil blends.

9. My co-worker at Soup Kitchen, John Davidson. John is like the snarky dorm buddy that I missed more than I had thought. He is also a hard worker, running a local food pantry, as well as being a constant for Solid Rock Christian Fellowship’s community outreach activities.

8. My landlord, Robert Mosquera. Robert has never skimped on getting fixes for anything that has been out of order or broken, these past twelve years. Our complex is a simple operation, and his family occupies half of the units, but I still got more bang for my buck here than almost all of my friends in other rental situations in this area. Robert also was an enormous help today, getting a large sofa/hide-a-bed to Goodwill. It was one of those hard-to-sell items, but we got it done.

7. A consistent friend and supporter, Judy Russell. Judy has gone the extra mile in just about anything she’s done since moving here, 25 years ago. Service to our shared Baha’i Faith, to her apartment complex and to her employer, Yavapai College, has been exemplary. She was a great help, in housing my daughter-in-law, when Yunhee came here, in 2021, ahead of Aram, who was still in transit from Korea.

6. The Yetman Family: Carol and Dick, their daughter, Kathleen and her husband, Cole. This wonderful family has been instrumental in the success of Prescott Farmers Market, in the Solid Rock Soup Kitchen and in back-to-school supply events at Prescott United Methodist Church.

5. JayLene and David Long. The driving forces of Prescott’s premier fall event, Hope Fest, the Longs have transcended personal suffering and gone the distance to provide this community with a stellar faith-based day of service to the homeless and less-fortunate. The music is superb and the activities, from legal aid to haircuts, have given help to hundreds, if not thousands, over the years.

4. Molly and Gary Beverly. These farmers of Chino Valley have been driving forces in so many areas, but the greatest of these are Slow Food Prescott and Friends of the Verde River. Without SFP, school gardening initiatives might have languished and proper knowledge and respect for Heirloom agricultural products of Arizona might not have been as widespread. Without FVR, there may not have been a successful Save the Dells, which in turn has protected the Prescott area’s most unique natural wonder: Granite Dells. The Beverlys also have one of the finest farms in the area, and once had a natural swimming hole.

3. The Schaelling-Pena Family. Dharma Farm, the family of seven (and sometimes, ten), and Landen’s indomitable efforts at sustainable living and Permaculture, coupled with Holly’s gentle guidance of five beautiful children, made my occasional visits events that I could have enjoyed on a weekly basis. It was a tonic, being there and seeing young toddlers with a sense of responsibility for one another.

2. Carl Brehmer. One of the most erudite and skilled musicians I’ve ever known, a small farmer and craftsman, and certainly one of the most caring souls that the Prescott area, and our Baha’i community, can count on in a heartbeat. He was an earnest, loving caregiver to his late wife, Marcia, who also ranks as a powerful presence, with her work in fostering awareness of ADHD, both in children and in adults.

1. Meg Bohrman. Another of Prescott’s astonishingly-talented and caring musicians. Meg is everywhere, when there is a faith-based event or things like the Women’s March, the Tree-Lighting ceremony or anything sponsored by the Coalition for Compassion and Justice-or a chance for a concert by Galactogogues, or a solo stint. I first encountered Meg at a dedication event at the Unity Church, when she stood on the sidelines and cheerfully played her accordion. It’s been fabulous music ever since. Her husband, Thatcher, has been the quiet, supportive presence at just about every gathering she either headlines or performs in a supporting role.

A special mention begs here: Melissa Monahan, and her beautiful family, without whom a lot more time would have been needed for me to recover from the loss of my wife and from the missteps of the years that first followed that loss. Melissa has brought the healing element of do Terra, a commitment to true natural healing and the welcoming presence of a stable and loving family. She is also a local pioneer in the cultivation of microgreens and has been a sterling example, to me, of what it means to be a grandparent. She has arguably been my best friend in Prescott.

As with any short list, there is that roster that could go on forever. My life here would also not have been as rich and healing without my Prescott Cluster Baha’i family: John Lambert, his sister, Tammy and late wife, Margaret, Linda and Randy Smith,Gladys Stewart, Mary and John Passamani, Deb and George Konizer, Pamm Sosa, Dave and Annie Lovell, Steve and Tauby Calrow, Steve and Sharon Stone, Frank and Ellen Assadi, Claudia and Donny, Ellen Buccholz, Susan Bensch, Jerry Gardner; without Joe and Sandy Gorraiz and all the regulars at Ernest A. Love Post 6 of the American Legion; the Monday Coffee Klatsch ladies; Ashley Fine and her daughter, Sedona; Dawn Wasowicz, her daughters Arin and Brooke, and late husband, Jeff, who have made Rafter 11 such a staple of my weekends here; Allan, Bea, David, Glenda, Lloyd and Nichele-the Taco Tuesday regulars at El Gordo; The Cheektones, Jonathan Best, the Howard Brothers, Scandalous Hands, Candace Devine and Lake Francis Case, the grand family of Prescott musicians, who make the Raven, and the Courthouse lawn, so vibrant and experience; Annie Baker, Kaolin Young, Emily, Lena, JB Campos, Paul, Keaton, Marie and all those who make the Prescott Farmers Market such an integral part of anyone’s Prescott experience; Karen Pimentel, Tom Altavilla and my Red Cross family, who taught me the skills necessary to engender public safety; and finally, the workers and clientele at Monday’s Soup Kitchen: There is wisdom to be found in every soul’s story.

Tomorrow afternoon, I leave an empty and clean apartment, but I will never leave this beautiful place and all the people mentioned above, and more, in my mind and heart.