Tag Archives: Desert Rose Baha’i Institute

The Road to Diamond, Day 139: Continuity, and Shifting

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 16, 2025- Unsurprisingly, but happily, I got a clean bill of dental health again today. There are a couple of things I can and will do to improve the situation-yet, all in all, it’s one less cause for concern. Red meat, which I have loved over the years, also has to be cut back. It’s just my own conclusion, and truth be known, I am naturally more given to eating healthier, over the past four years.

Honouring friends across the political spectrum entails pointing out simple facts, rather than editorializing. So I have come across a few “inconvenient truths” that challenge both orthodoxies and have gently approached a few of the adherents to those positions. I won’t dwell on those here, except to say that things are seldom exactly as they seem, in a world where deception is far easier than it used to be.

With respect to the next few weeks, I have had a request to go back down to Desert Rose next weekend. There are, however, things going on here, for which I am locked in. So, after some back and forth online, I will be staying put and fulfilling promises to this community. It all reminds me of the old Donovan song, “There is a Mountain”.

Those are just some ruminations, on this topsy-turvy, but ultimately reassuring day.

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&channel=entpr&q=first+there+is+a+mountain+donovan#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:f5d2e100,vid:XcMM5-zBCEc,st:0

The Road to Diamond, Day 135: An Overdue Reunion

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 12, 2025- The cousins had not seen one another for forty years, though they have spoken by phone on several occasions. Their embrace was timeless and classical, reflecting the universality of family and of the human need for continuity.

Reunited
Bobot, Thelma and Celeste after dinner, with a “stealth selfie” of yours truly.

Coming from large families, on both sides, I thoroughly appreciated what was transpiring, in this well-appointed home, on Phoenix’s far south side. The Filipina cousins re-cemented routes that had never really been severed, over a delectable meal of chicken adobo and steamed kalabasa(squash). I will hopefully meet with some of my own cousins next month, though our parting has not been anywhere near as long.

The day began well, with visits to Prescott Farmers’ Market and Zeke’s Eatin’ Place. Each of my local friends were gracious and welcoming to Babot and Thelma. The visits afforded them free samosas and enough food from Zeke’s to keep them for another day or so.

We next drove down to Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, in Eloy. There was a great temperature difference between there and Prescott, so we kept our outdoor time to a minimum. The caretakers were busy with another matter, so after brief conversations with them,we conducted our own tour. I made what I thought was a comprehensive video, using my i-Phone, only to later find that it had somehow jammed and ended up recording nothing. (Note to self, next time use the camera. It doesn’t depend on cell towers.) I have photos from a January visit here, and Bobot took his own video, which I hope turned out better. In any case, my friends enjoyed this little bit of Baha’i property.

The last journey on my watch, from Eloy to Phoenix, was marred by neither dust storms nor heavy traffic. We found the house easily, and after showing my friends that the best way to get someone to let them in to a house was by pressing the doorbell, rather than relying solely on the phone, the joyful reunion was complete.

I drove back to Home Base I, a bit tired, but happy that the week has been a fair success.

The Road to Diamond, Day 48: Desert Rose

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

January 15, 2025- He was never, to my knowledge, at a loss for words. in his search for truth, he frequently spoke of a figure in his dreams, to whom he referred as “the shiny man”. I, too, dreamed of that same figure, on my first visit to Prescott, in 1979. William Sears and I had both dreamed of ‘Abdu’l-Baha. Mr. Sears, who preferred to be called “Bill”, established Desert Rose Baha’i School, along with his wife, Marguerite, in 1988. It was held in various locations, in Tucson, for its first eight years. Mr. Sears passed away in 1992, but Marguerite and a small group of helpers purchased land in 1996. This became Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, occupying about half of the land that Marguerite had envisioned for the Institute. (The other half, still owned by individual Baha’is, faces an uncertain future.)

Penny and I visited DRBI last, in 2007, when we joined a gathering of musicians. The late Dan Seals was among the artists present, and is the only person who has ever persuaded me to sing in a chorus. It was not a bad experience, joining people whose voices were pleasant, in a rendition of “We Are One”. That, of course, was both Dan’s, and Penny’s, last visit to Desert Rose. He died in 2009, and she, in 2011.

I went there today, after visiting Tohono Chul Park, in Oro Valley, near Tucson. That salubrious desert park’s Garden Bistro served up what will now be among my favourite plates: Mesquite flour pancakes, filled with Poblano peppers, topped with fresh berries. It was my second fabulous meal in a row, dinner having been a supremely savoury taco salad, at Benson’s Cafe 86, a homey local favourite, staffed by a hard working couple.

It was thus time for spiritual food to supplement the repasts. I pulled up next to a sign at Desert Rose that said “administration”. A small group was sitting outside a house next to the building. After greeting each other, I got basic directions from one of the ladies, as to the location of Mr. and Mrs. Sears’ memorial sites. (Marguerite passed in 2006, and is buried in the Institute’s Memorial Park.) After a brief stroll around the main property, I stopped at the memorial dome that is dedicated to Bill, reflecting on his life’s work, which ranged from being a sportscaster in Philadelphia to humanitarian efforts, from Mississippi to South Africa. He was ever a stalwart foe of racial segregation, but always worked within the law.

The Memorial Dome for William Sears, Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, Eloy, Arizona.

Here are a few of the other buildings that grace the property.

Round House is the dining hall and doubles as a conference center.
Musician Chris Ruhe manages this small FM radio station, which serves up both spiritual and secular programming.
Hadden Hall is the main conference center.
This is Marguerite Reimer Sears’ resting place. Several other friends are also laid to rest in the Memorial Park.

After saying several prayers there, I went back to my hosts’ house and joined them for a cup of peppermint tea. Telahoun and Brooke Molla were proprietors of an Ethiopian restaurant in Tempe, when I lived in Phoenix. We enjoyed the fare there, a few times, and became friendly with the family. It was a delightful surprise to find them living at DRBI, with their youngest child.

PROMOTION: Desert Rose is looking for energetic, sustainability-oriented xeriscapers or those trained in permaculture. The kitchen garden and a tree-planting campaign are the current foci of self-sustaining volunteers. Spiritual open-mindedness is a plus. So, too, is being able to innovate ways to deal with extended periods of high heat (Upwards of 118 F, in the height of summer.) The adobe homes do offer protection and there are two swimming pools. A large bank of solar panels helps to provide power.

https://drbi.org/facilities-and-rentals#rh

The Road to 65, Mile 33: The Gate Swings Backwards, and Then……

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Posted by on in Social, Travel

December 31, 2014, Prescott- I woke up around 6:30, on New Year’s morning, 2014, and knew that this would be the year I would hop on board a plane and head over to Europe.  Exactly where, and for how long, remained subject to the vagaries of substitute teaching and my investment income.  All year long, though, things that were meant to happen did, and other things had to be consigned to a later time.

January- The Boot dropped, on Whiskey Row, right at 12 Midnight, as I sipped the hot chocolate I had bought, fifteen minutes earlier in Devil’s Pantry.  The rest of the month brought lots of hiking: Tucson’s Bear Canyon and Seven Falls, the depths of Kartchner Caverns,Casa Grande Ruins, Cave Creek’s Go John Trail, the northern portion of Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, a march through downtown Prescott on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  It was a rather dry month.

February- I started the  month by presiding over the Four Chaplains Commemorative ceremony, at our Legion post, went most of the way up Harquahala Peak, visited Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, studied my Faith a lot, and prepared for the sale of the house where I had lived for the past 2 1/2 years.  We said goodbye to the unofficial “greeter” of Willow Creek Gardens.

March- Three years had passed since beloved Penny left her pain behind.  I moved. Then, I went on an errand of mercy and tribute, to Denver-in a U-Haul, and made it safely through the blizzard that greeted me, just north of Pueblo.  It was a fabulous little impromptu community, first at Walsenburg, then at Colorado City, which made things a whole lot easier.  We who had to negotiate the snow, stuck together.  On the Ides of March, I learned about a Loyalty Rewards Program; how ironic.  The next day, we Legionnaires paid homage to those who left us since last March.  We refer to the departed members as ” Post Everlasting”.  Aram headed out on deployment, for seven months, on the last day of Winter.  I saw him and the ship off, then joined other Baha’is, in San Clemente, for Naw-Ruz, the Baha’i New Year.  Blue Herons and Egrets were plentiful at Dana Point and on Doheny Beach.  History abounded in San Gabriel and Redlands.  An International Dinner ended the month, at home.

April- My little apartment began to feel homey.  I did not stray far, this month.  The next several will be peripatetic enough.  Prescott held the photo session for its Sesquicentennial.  I would miss the real deal, on June 30, but one can’t be everywhere.  Affairs of Faith dominated, as they do every April, on the Commemoration of the Declaration of Baha’u’llah, as to His mission.  We  call it the Festival of Ridvan, after its venue.  It last twelve days, April 21-May 2.

May-  My father-in-law, Norman Fellman, had been getting progressively weaker.  He passed away, on May 7, at the age of 90.  Few affected my life in so powerful a way.  Pop held the bar high, but he’d occasionally help us over it, either with encouraging words, or his left foot- whichever he thought best for the situation.  Mother’s Day was surreal- a silent breakfast with my heart-broken MIL, followed by the flight back to Phoenix.  I would come back, three weeks later, to catch a flight to Frankfurt, Germany.  In the meantime, more heartache struck.  A little Baha’i child drowned, and a large gathering honoured his life, in the western suburbs of Phoenix.  The month ended with my landing in Frankfurt, and getting a good day’s rest at the Q-Green Hotel.

June- This was a dizzying, dazzling and endearing month:  Paris, with Tuilleries, Louvre, Tour d’Eiffel, Hotel Monte Carlo,Versailles- both palace and town, the  residence of ‘Abdu’l-Baha during His 1911 visit to Paris, Montmartre, and Champs Elysees, the Roma along the Seine and the various refugees in the Metro;

Rouen, home of my paternal ancestors, prison cell and execution place of Jeanne d’Arc, Hotel Morand,Vieux Marche, my first glimpse of a great cathedral, Roman fortifications, hungry swans in a pond behind a church, Feast with local Baha’is, Palais de Justice;

Utah Beach, and the 70th Anniversary of D-Day, tanks on the beach, hordes in the village square of St. Marie-de-Mont and a couple of roundabout taxi rides;

Mont St. Michel, every bit as inspiring and cacophanous as I’d been told, a place of legends;

Rennes, capital of Brittany, more remparts, the great House of Brittany’s Parliament,  more grand churches and forts, Hotel Grande Bretagne, a sad and lonely teenager, sobbing for her friends, engaging street people;

Vannes, great showcase of Breton culture, fascinating walks in the hills above town and along the quay, a large duck pond-off the beaten track, and cuisine lovingly prepared and served by Madame Virginie, side trip to magnificent Carnac;

Brest, the American Memorial,  Le Chateau de Brest, “Speak Breton, forget French!”, the exasperated Cyber cafe proprietress, the helpful hotelier, leaping onto the early train back to Rennes;

Amiens, the canals, the great botanic gardens, bright nights, Jules Verne’s memorial, the helpful student, Restaurant Kathmandu, the Peace Church, the great cathedral, no one there named M. Foucault;

Lille, Hotel Balladins, the Cyber Laundry, the grand Arts Palace, one of the biggest City Halls ever, Paris Gate and Tournais Gate;

Bruges, a welter of medieval streets, Historium, first time dipping French fries into mayonnaise, flinty-eyed Flemish householders;

Ghent, officious train conductor (reminded me of Anthony Perkins, playing Inspector Javert), lovely Hotel Sint Pieters, more canals, saucy but adorable Flemish schoolgirls, Gravensteen, the Old Butcher’s Market, Turkish emigres in the New Quarter, interplay between hills and riverfront;

Brussels, chaotic, graffiti-ridden, bilingual, snarky coffee house baristas, inquisitive German schoolkinder, World Cup Victory Gathering at the Bourse, Hotel George V, vibrant Algerian neighbourhood, sweet-natured Italian couple and their Pizzeria Bella, Palais Royal, the Central Square, the Baha’i Centre near an apartment complex;

Bastogne, Batttle of the Bulge  Memorial and Museum, Place McAuliffe, Hotel Leo, the train car as restaurant, vibrant teens at a music festival, happy young family at dinner, tough British motorcyclists with hearts of gold, the helpful drunkard at the bus station, Loup Garou;

Luxembourg, astonishing fortresses of two time periods,bustling Financial District, quiet neighbourhood of the Baha’i Centre, Monument to the Martyrs of World War II, Place Guillaume II, Hotel Vauban, Dani Kohll and Felix Schaber, the Luxembourg Philharmonic Plays Disney, a Sunday brunch in a Baha’i family’s garden, a great small nation honouring its sovereign;

Metz, Residhotel, Jardin de L’Eau, teen lovers seeking solitude, people eating lunch along the river, on a busy workday, everyone out in force on a Sunday evening, boys teasing an Arab girl and getting their comeuppances, a little boy’s first encounter with ducks, the German Gate, the enchanting woods, Bellecroix, the disaffected North Africans and their high rise ghettos;

Strasbourg, modernistic train station,hipster hotel manager, venerable cathedral and chateau, spacious and vibrant central park, supremely welcoming Baha’i community(They all were, but this one especially so), interesting city tour by night;

Heidelberg, three hour wandering through University District, walk along the Neckar, Robert Bunsen,gazing upward at Heidelberg Castle, pleading housewife seeking directions;

Frankfurt– The Dom, the bustling, enjoyable Main Walk, delectable Bosnian lamb chops, the long-suffering clerk at Penthostel,   the Baha’i House of Worship at Langenhain,bratwurst  and friendship in a small wurst haus, a night walk around the Messe and ignoring the working girls along the route;

Gera and Berga– Resurgence in the once downtrodden East, bumbling while trying to exit a city bus, engaging drunkards in a surreal conversation, a view of the mine where Pop worked as a prisoner, standing in front of the V-1 Rocketwerks, eating frozen yogurt in a quiet section of Neu Berga, a small memorial to those held captive in the Nazi Era, the POW barracks.

Part II of this retrospective:  July-December