Blue, Green and Red

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December 10,2025- In the Fall of 1979, a co-worker at Villa School, in Eloy, had a vehicle and wanted someone to go with her to Oak Creek Canyon and Sedona. My hand went up, as I was actively visiting as much of Arizona as I could on weekends, without the benefit of owning my own vehicle. So, northward we went, first to Flagstaff’s Fort Tuthill (fairgrounds), then down along U.S. 89, stopping next at an overlook and purchasing a few items of Dineh jewelry. (She, for herself and I, for another co-worker, whose birthday was approaching).

Then, the magic started to unfold-a riotous blend of colours: Blue sky, green trees and grass and red rocks presented their unique co-existence all along the windy canyon road, carved long ago, by Oak Creek. The creek itself served up a hearty torrent, at Slide Rock, which hosted a popular Arizona State Park. We looked for a bit at the happy families, kids squealing in delight and teen boys on the ledge above, daring one another to jump off into the creek. (None did, given that their fathers were close by, wielding veto power). We soon went on, down towards Sedona, creeping along behind a bicyclist, who was half arrogantly occupying the center of the lane and half scared to death that his brakes might fail. The slow pace only amplified the majesty of the place. We took in Cathedral Rock, Courthouse Butte and Bell Rock, all from their bases. I was an avid hiker, but my co-worker was not. I made a mental note to return to each of these, and explore further.

Over the years, Sedona has been a regular destination-either alone, or when accompanied by Penny, by our son, Aram, by his wife, Yunhee, by members of the NAU Hiking Club or, most recently, by my present Hiking Buddy, Akuura, the area has not once failed to present the most majestic of views. Those views change with the position of the Sun. Light and shadow are everything in the Southwest, and nowhere more so than in this most wondrous of places, where canyon meets mountain.

Akuura and I took in Red Rock State Park, for one final excursion, before I devote myself full tilt to dispersing many possessions and packing up the rest. It was an exquisite day, weather-wise, and so we took in Eagle’s Nest and Javelina Overlook-and several points along the way.

The blue and green were gearing up; the red a bit subdued, yet, at the base of Eagle’s Nest Trail.

The hues deepened, though, as my shadow and I walked towards the switchbacks that led to the overlook.

It may not look treacherous, but the sign is quite accurate.

The first phase of Javelina Trail passes by an area where several mule deer were grazing and another area, where a lone javelina was moving away from a small assembled group of bird watchers/deer oglers. We would encounter the deer again, towards the end of our hike, but that was the last we saw of the boar. This magnificent little spire could be called Love Rock, for all I know, but it is a standalone outcropping, along the flat trail, just before Apache Fire Loop rises off to the right.

Once atop the Javelina Trail, the iconic view of Cathedral Rock offered itself.

We briefly pondered the trail east to another part of this majestic expanse, but then opted to head back down to the Visitors Center-and on to lunch. Just before getting to the Visitors Center, we encountered the family of resident mule deer, enjoying their lunch.

The final visit to Sedona, of this year at least, came to an end, with a celebratory lunch at The Belfry, at the entry to Old Town Cottonwood. I long ago swore to spare my readers any food photos, but this chandelier is worthy of praise.

I will someday be back in Sedona, and God willing, I might even have a wide-eyed granddaughter along.

My Life Thus Far: The Seventies

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February 11, 2016, Prescott-  Today was brutal, for many people about whom I care.  It wasn’t so bad for me, personally, because I stayed put-mostly out of financial prudence.  Things will be better that way, tomorrow.

So, I will continue recounting what has been good, and not so good, with the years gone by.  A lot of you, my faithful WP readers, despised my account of the Sixties.  Brace yourselves:  Things went a tad south for me, as twentysomething, but I lay the blame at my own two feet.  Therefore, if you were rankled by me as a teen, skip this post.

1970-High Point:  Being in Fort Myer for the entire year.

Low Point:  Stan E. getting killed in combat.

People in the heart:  Cathy P., my best long-distance phone friend; my three faithful roommates in the TriService barracks; Don and Charley,my co-workers; Stan E., who died for his country.

Places in the heart:  Georgetown, DC; the C & P Canal Towpath; Lynn Beach, when I was on leave.

1971-High Point:  Being stationed in the Cholon section of Saigon.

Low Point:  Wretched, crowded, chaotic Long Binh Army Base.

People in the heart:  Jim T., who stood up for his girls; Tay Lanh, who honoured my dignity; Bill B., Arnie P. and Roger D., my buddies in Cholon; the Henderson family, who overlooked my surly temperament, while I was in Sydney; Tommy W., who didn’t deserve to have been left alone, while injured.

Places in the heart:  Cholon; Vung Tau; Tauranga Park; Woollahra.

1972- High Point:  My hitchhiking trip across North America.

Low Point:  Ignoring what I had been told about spiritual truth.

People in the heart:  Dave G., who gave me my first post-Army job; my workmates, Jimmy, Jan, Donna and Franny; Jim F., my long-suffering boss; Lillies S., the college office manager, who told me to always set my sights high; my hometown buddies, who welcomed me back from ‘Nam; the Gordon family, of Toronto, who camped with me, along Lake Superior; Kathy B., with whom I almost fell madly in love; the Bullocks, who hosted me in Baltimore, for a week; the anonymous truck driver in King of Prussia, who introduced me to the Baha’i Faith; Sandy and Al, my housemates; Donna G., who tried to be a good friend.

Places in the heart:  North Shore Community College; Montreal; Lake Superior; Edmonton; Jasper; Lake Louise; Babb, MT; Morgantown, WV; Baltimore; Ocean City; Bethlehem, PA; my little room in Beverly, MA.

1973- High Point: Visiting Prince Edward Island.

Low Point:  The Chelsea Fire.

People in the heart:  Geary C., Alan A., Sandy G. and Angie D., my friends at NSCC; just about everyone I met on PEI; the hipster who filled my tank with gas, for giving him a ride from Ellsworth to Boothbay.

Places in the heart:  Beverly,MA; Salem; Boston Public Library; Prince Edward Island; New Glasgow, NS; Boothbay Harbor, ME.

1974- High Point: Working at Quisisana Resort, ME.

Low Point:  The botched attempt to serve as editor of “Sage Revisited”.

People in the heart: All my NSCC and Beverly friends; Kathy H., Annette K, Tom & Fricky J., Sandy M., the Grices and Dave B., who were my friends and co-workers at “Quisi”; Dr. and Mrs. Ziv, my “Jewish grandparents” from lower Manhattan; Jimmy S. and Mr. McGregor, who offered me work close to home; my dorm mates in Orchard Hill, at UMass-Amherst.

Places in the heart: Quisisana Resort, Lovell, ME; Bar Harbor; North Conway; Amherst; Fisher Island, NY.

1975- High Point:  Hiking the Presidential Range, in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

Low Point: Getting fired from a part-time job, on my 25th birthday.

People in the heart:  My campus buddies at UMass; Mrs. Braman, the housemother in my rooming house, in Northampton; Steve R., Paul W. and Ken C., my brainy, irreverent and totally sloppy first housemates in South Deerfield; the Rivard family, who moved in, after the guys were evicted; Allan D., my internship co-op teacher; Lloyd Z. and Linda D., who imparted good pedagogy; every child who put up with me in that little U.S. History class; the Zivs.

Places in the heart:  Amherst; Northampton; South Deerfield; the White Mountains; lower Manhattan.

1976- High Point:  Graduating from UMass.

Low Point:  Almost losing a sibling, in an accident.

People in the heart:  Dave C. and Janet C., my Quisisana friends and a most unlikely couple; Fred L., aka “Doctor Dirt”; Clay R., my younger doppelganger; the Smalls, who lodged me in Bangor; the Bryants, who fed me, whenever I tutored their son; Mr. Bluestein, who stressed the value of a dollar; Peter W., who hired me as a Teacher Aide; Cheryl Q., who mentored me.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Brewer and Etna,ME;

1977- High Point:  My brother, David’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Being evicted, on false pretenses, in the middle of February.

People in the heart:  Cheryl Q., Peter W., Greg F., Susan C., Grace P. and Evelyn L., who tried their best to be mentors and friends; Lucy and Ronnie R., who took me in from the dead of winter; John and Mary M., my cousin and his wife, who were always there for me; my eight unsettled, troubled and always worthwhile students, in the Behaviorally-Challenged class; my first and fourth-graders, that second year, who re-assured me that I could serve as a teacher.

Places in the heart:  Brewer, Etna, Vinalhaven and Fort Kent, ME; Fredericton and Edmundston, NB; Riviere Bleu and Lac Megantic, QB.

1978- High Point:  My sister, Cheryl’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Losing my temper on a school field trip to a museum.

People in the heart:  My friends and well-wishers at Etna-Dixmont School; my new supervisors at Villa School, Toltec, AZ; many of my students, at both schools; Mrs. Knox, my landlady, over the summer.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Etna, Dexter and Kingfield, ME.; Mactaquac Park and Saint John, NB; Toltec, Casa Grande, Phoenix, Tucson and Grand Canyon, AZ; Amarillo; Chicago; Toledo.

1979- High Point:  My first solo visit to Mexico.

Low Point:  Encountering a dangerous sex offender, in the New Mexico desert.

People in the heart:  Lynda E., Patrick G., Bill K.,  John G.- my co-workers at Villa; the vast majority of my students; the two sisters who drove me from Little Rock to Albuquerque, without regard for my disheveled state; the majority of my fellow travelers, between Phoenix and Boston, and back; the young lady who gave me a ride from Grand Canyon to Las Vegas, in an empty tour bus, just for the sake of having company.

Places in the heart:   Casa Grande;Grand Canyon; Tucson; Puerto Penasco; Hermosillo; Ensenada; Woodfords and Bishop, CA;  Hodgenville and Mammoth Cave, KY.

This decade brought a lot of painful personal growth to my doorstep. There are many people from those days who, if they were never to see me again, it would be too soon.  There are others whom I miss, sorely.  The big lessons are that alcohol and autism are a  wicked combination.  Lack of even rudimentary social skills surfaced, at the worst possible times, though thankfully, it was all pretty much done by the time I moved to Arizona.  When a rough-edged former co-worker tried to nail me with  the label of “loser”, towards the end of 1979, his words fell on deaf ears.

The Eighties would be, by and large, awesome.