The Hana Chronicles:Month 7, Day 15

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August 5, 2026- Hana’s Daddy was home for most of the day, as he had some personal business to complete, away from work. While we were in the playpen, and Aram was standing just outside it, Hana took his hand in hers, then took my thumb in her other hand. She is always thinking about inclusion, togetherness. Her happiest moments are when all four of us are together. She is ever joyful when one of us is playing with her in the pen.

Hana has established a reliable communication with me, when she needs a diaper change. I have passed this on to her parents. It is a precursor to what I see as a looming early toilet training. She is only 2-3 months away from walking with assistance, as well. This girl has things she wants to do in life, for sure.

HANA’S NOTE- I saw that Faddy was worried about the thing he was working on, so I gave him a big hug. He said that helped.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1988 It is said that when a man becomes a father, he begins to turn into his father. In July, our son, Aram, came into the world. I held him in my arms, 20 minutes after he was born, then held him up to the window and told him what a big and beautiful world he was now in. I named his middle name after my father, Ferdinand, Dad had been gone for two years, and I missed the guidance he would have given me, but I drew on what I remembered of all he had said and done, over the course of our thirty six years together. I would delight in many of the things Aram said and did, growing up and would correct him, in the way a given situation warranted. I would be ferocious in defending him, even from family members (only was needed once) and from my fellows in faith (maybe necessary a half dozen times, over the years.)

When Penny was six months pregnant, we went on a Baha’i teaching trip to Taiwan, spending two weeks there. We spent most of the time in a small central Taiwan town, Tsaotun. There, we met with university students late at night, repaired a brick walkway, promoted a large gathering that was organized by other Americans (no one showed up) and met with a few venerable Baha’i teachers. I would return there, along with another Baha’i from Korea, later that Fall, for a three-day conference.

For three weeks or so after Aram’s birth, we had help from Penny’s parents. Her Dad went with me to the U.S. Consulate in Busan, where we secured Aram’s American birth certificate and his passport. A well-meaning Korean Immigration officer, new to the job, had told me that the baby would be deported, unless his passport was completed post haste. His superior, overhearing that, corrected him, but cautioned that prompt action was in order. So, prompt action was taken.

Aram was only the second American child ever born on Jeju, and he was the first Caucasian child thus born, so he became a celebrity, fawned over by most of the people. That love made a place in his heart for the country and the people, which has had an outsized effect on his life. We would live three more years in Korea, but his heart remained there.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 13

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August 3, 2026- Hana has taken to kneeling and looking at the camera that is above her crib, when she wants someone to come to her. She will start babbling, in a sensible cadence, so I know that she is thinking about what to say. Her appetite has also increased, since her upper incisors have come in.

She comes to me, in the playpen, when she wants to practice standing. It is easier to grab onto Papa than onto the play pen lining, and besides, I will both hold her up and cheer her on. Although “I am Baby” is one of her latest phrases, she has a quite elevated agenda, for a seven-month-old.

HANA’S NOTE- I like it when Daddy calls, because then Papa lets me listen to the phone call. Any other time, the phone is off-limits.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1986 This was another seismic year. Late on a January night, I took a call from South Korea. A Baha’i friend there, who knew that Penny was getting her Master’s Degree in Teaching English as a Second Language, called to ask whether she would be interested in taking his position: Visiting Professor of English, in the Department of English Language and Literature, at Jeju National University. Her half-conscious response was: “Sure, why not?”

Despite a lot of internal back and forth on the matter, she took the position and we began to uncouple from Tuba City. We made arrangements to move ourselves, and our household items, in August. We left Tuba in June and spent two months at NAU, in Flagstaff. I was taking courses towards a School Administrative Certificate, and had 12 credits left to earn. Six of those credits were covered that summer.

It was only two weeks into the summer session, when I got the phone call that my father had passed away. On a Sunday morning, his heart failed him, as he prepared for a routine visit to my youngest brother’s residential facility. I made flight arrangements, almost immediately, in rather a foggy state of mind, and called one of my professors, to explain the situation. He promised to tell my other professor. Penny was unable to join me, as her key exam was the following Saturday. We went to get her food for the week, as I would have the car to drive to Phoenix. Then, I was off. I got to Boston around 11 p.m., meeting my brother, Dave at Logan Airport. A short time later, I was holding my mother as tightly as I had when her mother had passed, thirty-six years earlier. It was a week of remembrance, giving and receiving solace and yard work. I enlisted the help of a few uncles and cousins for my mother, before I left to go back to Arizona.

We arrived in South Korea, in mid-August. A week was spent with American friends in Osan, outside of Seoul. Acclimating to Korean life in Metro Seoul was a bit like assimilating to American life, by living in New York or Los Angeles, It was a bit of a Boot Camp, though, and we were in fairly good shape, by the time we went down to Jeju. A few weeks later, we were in our Teacherage, Penny began her teaching work and I spent my days tutoring a few Korean students and getting to know the coffee houses of downtown Jeju. Penny and I also went to the southern island town of Seogwip’o. As it happened, the area had just been hit by a typhoon, and we saw lot of clean-up going on.

My own work as a Visiting Professor of English would start, early the following year.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 5, Day 25

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June 15,2026– It was a relatively cool day today, and Hana did not need to be shielded from the sun, but I put her sun visor atop her head anyway. We had a nice walk along the west spur of Chester Drive, and back. I will walk again, solo, after writing this post. It’s a pleasant evening.

Several writers have recently spoken of what makes them feel at home. The term “emotional home” was used in one such post, written by someone who has lived in three different countries, for an extended period of time. He sees each of them as an emotional home, for different reasons.

I have lived in several communities, 18, in fact-mostly in the Unites States, but also in Viet Nam and South Korea. I have only been in one place I positively loathed. All other places had saving graces-even when the job I held was not all that wonderful.

Were I to think of emotional homes, I am more inclined to conjure up regions, with some special places within them, that secure my sense of well-being. Here are five such areas:

New England- Here, I was born, grew to a semblance of maturity and became immersed in the love of forest and ocean. Massachusetts and Maine are my primary emotional homes, within the region. It was always to Saugus and the North Shore that I went, when it was time to be with family. There are places, some no longer as they were when I frequented them and some that will never change all that much. It is along the rocky shore that I feel most at home there: Nahant, anywhere on Cape Ann, Marginal Way, Green Acre, Boothbay Harbor,Mount Desert Island, There are forested, mountainous areas that bring a sense of my ancestors’ presence: Breakheart, Blue Hills, Mount Katahdin, the Berkshires,the environs of Jackman. No mention of the region can leave out New Hampshire: Hampton Beach, Portsmouth, Lake Winnepesaukee, Franconia Notch. New England is my emotional tap root.

The Southwest- California to Texas, north to Colorado and Nevada. My sense of well-being was cemented in the vast expanses of desert, mountain, beach towns and rolling prairie. Here I became focused, found true love and strong Faith, bid farewell to my first and most faithful darling and have greeted her namesake. Here, I became truly affirmed. Arizona was the center piece, bringing me into the worlds of the Dineh and the Hopi, the campesinos and the cowboys, the self-reliant and the co-operative. The mountains and canyons always brought solace, even when they also brought challenge: Prescott, Williams,Flagstaff, Bisbee, Kayenta, Superior, Globe, Chinle- all were welcoming and surrounded by soothing Nature. Five trips down to the river and back, in the courses of single days, drove home the majesty of the Grand Canyon. Black Canyon and Prescott Circle, Canyon de Chelly, Monument Valley, Boyce Thompson, the Bisbee Staircase Challenge, Lockett Meadow, Mount Humphreys, Mount Elden, Bellemont- these were my tonics. Across the region, San Diego,the OC beaches, Carson City, Glenwood Springs, Santa Fe, Manitou Springs, Amarillo/Palo Duro Canyon and the little towns of the Northwest Passage to DFW Metroplex are the stars along the galactic path. Plano is my anchor now, linking all that is sacred from my past with the still bright promise of years to come.

East Asia- South Korea and the Philippines, nearly two thousand miles apart, with Taiwan and Hong Kong as intermediaries, brought both the smoothing of my rough edges and a sense that I was worth a lot more than I had previously realized. I began to take stock of myself, and value professionalism, in Korea. I learned to again truly treasure human companionship, on three visits to Manila and beyond. Jeju will always be the northwestward-pointing branch and Makati, the southwestern. In Korea, I was brought into the wider family of humankind. In Manila, I was reminded that I still have the capacity to love a woman fully. Though time and circumstance have kept us apart, there will never be a time when I don’t treasure her for all she is.

Canada– The opposite ends of this vast nation are two points of my North Star. Nova Scotia and Newfoundland also helped me smooth some remaining rough edges, and re-orient my thinking, so that reaching goals previously thought unreachable became mind over matter. Vancouver Island and the Sunshine Coast reinforced those notions. Montreal, even in an occasion of severe mental tests, is the soul center, the heart of this North Star. On both coasts of Canada, my main connection was with First Nations people, and I was brought home to my own Abenaki roots, again and again.

Europe– Family of long ago flashed before me. Friends, long kept in abeyance, became real again. Suffering, in opposite areas of the central heartland, (Auschwitz-Birkenau and Srebrenica) was shown to me, in graphic detail, decades after the unspeakable horrors had transpired. Kindness, basic decency, were everywhere along the way-from Iceland, through Sweden, and on a winding path to Croatia and Bosnia-Hercegovina, thence on another winding path to the British Isles. There was the expectation that I show common sense and not expect any favours. I found that refreshing and rewarding. In Nynashamn, Split, Sarajevo, Salzburg, Vienna, Heidelberg, Fishguard, Wexford, Edinburgh and Findhorn, I felt like I was among family. Europe is the Conscience Beam of my heart house.

There are friends in all these places. I still hear from some. Others, i may not see or hear from until we meet in the Light. Neither they, nor the emotional strength I derived from our friendships, will be cast aside. I hope to acquaint Hana-and any siblings she may yet have, with some of these Emotional Homes, and places that lie between them. We walk in Beauty.

Worlds Within A World, Part V

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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 III

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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.

Cyclical

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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.

The Road to Diamond, Day199: Fatherhood at 37

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June 15, 2025- In less than a month, Aram will be the same age that I was when he was born. There is a significance to this, which I cannot as yet divulge, but it is quite prescient. That age seems to be a call to maturity, in a very practical way. Aram has entered the field for which he has prepared, and is off to a good start. I rose to a solid position,in South Korea, around the time of his birth, and would have remained, but for family complications here in the U.S. I landed on my feet, once back here, but that is another story.

I was decidedly a late bloomer. My son does not have to be. He has long been recognized for leadership skills and has a solid work ethic. He is more grounded than I was, at that age. A number of mentors, both familial and professional, have helped in that regard. He is wise enough to seek our collective counsel, and to listen to the best of the advice given. I am confident in his future.

In our society that is at once aloof and indulgent, the skills that a person needs to succeed require a lot of self-discipline, of proactivity. There is a need for flexibility and for being able to find resources that make up for what government and industry may not offer, in the way of doing one’s job. Being able to see beyond make-work tasks, some of which are designed to salve the egos of higher-ups, is crucial. The superfluous still needs to get done, but even the most self-absorbed of corporate or public officials will appreciate a self-starter on their staff. One can always grouse, afterward, but the tasks will not go away on their own.

Fatherhood has some of the same aspects. One cannot argue, successfully with a toddler, or to a lesser extent, with a teenager. The hard work still needs to get done, though, and chances are the finished product will be a solid member of society, if the father (along with the mother) does not back away from core principles. As with teaching, the reward may not be seen until later, but the wait is worth it.

These are my thoughts, as my son actively considers becoming a father, in his own right.

The Road to Diamond, Day 5: Seoul

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December 3, 2024- As I wrapped up my visit with Aram and Yunhee, stopping for a satisfying lunch at a Pollo Regio branch, just down the street from HB II, a drama was unfolding in Seoul, South Korea, that may have worldwide implications.

As Aram and I drove to DFW, and he jockeyed for position on the road with at least one driver who didn’t know what he wanted to do, much less know where he was headed, thousands of people in Seoul found they had been betrayed. These were young men, who had voted into office a man who told them what they wanted to hear, that he felt their pain in the midst of a world that no longer put them on a pedestal, and that he would reverse the course of society and make men the center of the Universe, once more. Now, that same President was declaring martial law, placing himself on a pedestal-for the first time since 1989, when the last authoritarian President left office.

I lived in South Korea, in the final years of Chun Doo-hwan’s regime. My little family and I were not treated badly, but I noticed that those who dissented publicly were routinely dispersed by pepper-spray and water cannon. I noticed that the riot police themselves were not treated much better, by their minders. There was wire-pulling going on, setting the common people against one another, 24/7. This lessened, to a great extent, after a series of democratically-elected leaders, beginning with the conservatives Roh Tae-woo and Kim Young-sam, and followed by progressives, themselves alternating with conservatives, proceeded to bring South Korea into a wider world.

Liberals and conservatives alike are fond of using phrases like “There’s no turning back” ,and “New World Order”. The two groups’ meanings are, at first blush, polar opposites of each other. There are, however, commonalities. Both see a world in which common people have a voice and the power brokers are reined in. Where they differ is with regard to exactly who those power brokers are. Conservatives see the “enemy” as Hollywood, “the Global Left”, Planned Parenthood and international financiers. Progressives see their foes as “the Christian Right” and mega-donors who control the levers of the media-both mainstream and social. In fact, those who stand in their way are the same forces-individuals and groups whose agenda rests in exercising control.

This is where what happened yesterday in Seoul matters to the world at large. The young men who voted in Yoon Suk-yeol, in 2022, are very similar to those who have voted in authoritarian leaders across the globe, in the past six years. Their locus of control is external, so they see any attempt by society and government to reduce the marginalization of women as a threat to their own well-being. This, as well as for different reasons that are specific to countries like Argentina, El Salvador, Hungary and the Netherlands, has brought similarly authoritarian leaders to the fore. Those, both male and female, who see themselves as being buffeted by forces out of their control, are bound to turn to the first, and loudest, appeal to their sense of well-being. I give you Weimar Germany, post-WWI Italy and Spain, resource-poor Japan of the 1920s and ’30s.

When Yoon Suk-yeol tried to return South Korea to the militarized days of 1960-88, the people found their inner locus of control-and took their country back, in short order. This looms large, for those who see authoritarianism as the wave of the future. “It ain’t necessarily so”-Ira Gershwin.

The true New World Order will arise from those whose locus of control is internal.

Eastbound and Back, Day 25: Repaying and Revising

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May 23, 2024, Gloucester, MA- The e-mail was unexpected, but somehow is fortuitous. My flight from Manila to Nairobi, scheduled for September 23, has been canceled by the airline. Africa will thus be re-scheduled, for autumn of 2025, as an extension of a European visit. This will remain a year for focus on east Asia, the Philippines in particular, with South Korea and Japan towards the end of the journey. My connection with the Philippines is both faith-based and personal, and we’ll leave it at that.

Africa is no less a concern of mine, but one must be prudent-and if the airlines say it is a security risk to fly, at that time, then that is how it must be.

The major concern of the day, today, was checking in on Mom. She was quiet, but was very glad to see me. It is enough for me to just sit, hold her hand and tell her about what I have been doing of late. She smiles and lets me know that my travels meet with her approval. I am just glad to have her here to relate my experiences.

When we were growing, her rule was to clean our plates. This evening was only the second time I have joined her for a meal at the residence. She was delighted that I cleaned my plate-but that has been second nature for me, for the past seventy years, no matter where I have eaten. Suffice it to say, she followed her own advice tonight, to the extent reasonable.

As today marks the 181st anniversary of the Declaration by al-Bab, of His Mission to mankind, I stopped and prayed at Green Acre Baha’i School. It was closed, as is customary on Baha’i Holy Days, but the grounds were still open. Here is a photo of Sarah Farmer Inn, the central building of Green Acre. ‘Abdu’l-Baha stayed there, in 1912, so it is a place of extra significance to Baha’is.

The Tendrils Do Not Fade

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January 14, 2022- The gentlemen and lady came onto a Zoom session, this evening, to speak of the history of Baha’i in their land, as the centennial of its arrival there had just been celebrated. I have alluded to our time there as well, on several occasions.

The influence of South Korea on my life cannot be minimized-especially given Aram’s birth there and his lifelong ties to both Korean and Japanese culture-accented by his marriage to Yunhee. I last went there, in 2019, for the religious ceremony that helped cement that marriage. The country has done quite well, materially, and has had a considerable influence, as well, on the the burgeoning global culture.

Connections I made there, had for the most part, seemed to have faded over the years. It was almost symbolic, when the plaque that Penny and I had been given, at the end of our work in Jeju, in 1992, fell off its stand and irreparably shattered, in 2017. It was not long after that, though, that Aram and Yunhee met. A more formidable, enduring bond was created.

The tendrils that remain between the Korean people and me are thus not going to be broken-and if anything, are one of the strongest threads that are connecting this one’s world. From those threads came ties to Hawaii, Taiwan, all parts of the U.S, and now to Albania, of all places, where a friend from our Jeju days has settled.

There are ties that keep me here-and those that will serve as a safety net, in many places far afield. It all started with a chance move to Korea, thirty-six years ago.