Tag Archives: Villa School

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day7

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 28, 2026- “What is boody boody doo?” , my granddaughter asked, this afternoon, when I warbled the nonsense phrase. This is the first time she has asked a coherent question, so I gave her a simple answer: “I’m just being silly.” Her slight smile let me off the hook. She did another first, shortly afterward: Planting her feet firmly on the floor, as she stood up, with my support. She wanted to look out the window-and of course touch the blinds. Then, she contented herself with opening and closing the gate to the playpen. It’s plastic and opens out, so there is no danger. She did this for about twenty minutes, then wanted to go back inside the pen and play.

I told her that she has eight special qualities: She is very smart; she is pretty; she has good health-including exercise drive and appetite;she is assertive; she has a great sense of humour; she is curious; she is adventuresome; she has a big heart. I see all these, regularly. Of course, she is an infant and does infantile things, but tantrums are rare, because her needs are anticipated and the three of us are good at picking up on her cues.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa can be very silly, but I love his silliness and how he dances me around the playpen.

YEAR IN REVIEW-1980 A bad day is often followed by a good one. A bad decade is likewise followed by a nice one-if the right lessons are learned. This year saw me leave Villa School, and enter a a Masters program at Northern Arizona University. The better part of this year saw me continue to bounce off proverbial walls. I still committed social faux pas, though in each case, I suffered immediate consequences and learned from them. I finished at the Villa with my head held high and went into summer classes at NAU, after a two-week break.

I found a town house, whose tenant needed a roommate. Although we were polar opposites, it worked, for about three months. Much of that time, I was on the road-going up to Oregon and back, with a fellow student. Another jaunt took me to Santa Fe, Taos and Los Alamos, with another student who was going one way. I caught a bus back, from Albuquerque. My housemate connected me with a Sky Y group that was going to Havasupai. I was hired on as a chaperone for a group of middle school kids. It was a good, strenuous hike and I got to see Havasupai Falls-a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I worked at a part-time job on the NAU campus, devising assistance programs for handicapped students in three public school districts. It was a rather nebulous assignment and I don’t think I accomplished much, other than give inspirational talks to juniors and seniors at Grand Canyon High School, in Tusayan and at Williams High School.

In November, I felt stirrings that I had not felt since I last saw Katie, at UMass-Boston. The first part of th emonth, I went with a couple of other students to Durango, CO and visited a former student at Fort Lewis College. At the place where I stayed, a friendly young woman caught my interest, though she had her life and I had mine, It was, though, the first time in several years that I felt someone special was about to come into my life. On my birthday weekend, I went to San Diego and stayed in a hostel. I met a few other ladies there, and felt more relaxed around them than I ever had in Flagstaff. Something, it seemed, was about to happen.

That semester, I took an anthropology class, which entailed field trips to Hopi and Zuni. In early December, there is a house blessing ceremony at Zuni, called Shalako. Our class went there, and huddled in the cozy main house. There were several other visitors there, mostly anthropology buffs and a couple of professors from the University of New Mexico. One of these visitors was speaking Spanish with a New Jersey accent. A classmate remarked on the “paucity’ of her speech. I glanced at the visitor, and we locked eyes. She then came over and started talking to me, in English. Her New Jersey accent was not off-putting in the least. Neither was anything else about her. This was Penny, and my life was about to experience two sea changes.

Worlds Within A World, Part II

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

May 15,2026- From the Saugus world, I got a work ethic, respect for family and tradition, a sense of place. From the Army world, I got self-discipline and awareness that people everywhere are more alike than different. From the College world, I got respect for my female peers and a sense of personal independence. From the Maine world, I got the joy of making it through a few harsh winters, and savouring delightful summers, yet I also came to the realization that not all who work with children have their best interests at heart.

After Maine came the Arizona Central Corridor world (1978-1981)-which brought me first to a private boarding school in Eloy, then to Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. During this time, I made peace with Mathematics, for many years my bugbear, and for two years at the Villa School, my livelihood. I know that, out of my own struggles, there came an affinity with those in my classes who were having a hard time with the concepts. It made me a credible teacher. I came to see troubled teens as worthy of respect. It made me a better human being. I came to see, and know, the majesty of Arizona, and made the acquaintance of the Pacific coast, as far north as Portland and as far south as Guaymas. I went across country, by bus or by thumb, three times.

The Flagstaff years brought the first real sea change in my life-realizing that my globalist self had counterparts in the Baha’i Faith, which I adopted as my own, early in 1981.I met the woman I would marry, waited out her sorting of her life and tossed aside a major obstacle in mine-saying goodbye to alcoholic beverages. I lost a few friends, but made hundreds more-and found myself oriented towards our country’s First Nations.

The firt Navajo-Hopi world (1981-86) put my newly acquired Masters Degree, in Education (Counseling), to full use. Tuba City, on the western edge of Arizona’s Painted Desert, struck me as close to being a Third World place. There were, at the time, a couple of trading posts and several small cafes. While I was there, a grocery store and small mini mall opened up. The small cafes gave way to well-appointed restaurants. I married Penny, we went on Pilgrimage to Israel and the West Bank, getting a fine guided tour of Jerusalem, the Jordan Valley and the Galilee from a retired IDF officer. We spent nine days total in the Holy Land, six of these in Haifa and Akka, There may never be such a consecrated time as this again in my life, but it gave me a foundation to go forward. We would stop in London, for three days, afterward, and I would have the bounty of speaking before people of whom I was in awe. We also would attend a Council Fire of First Nations, in Alberta, teach the Baha’i Faith in Houston, in Guyana and on the Omaha and Pine Ridge Reservations, as well as keeping the home fires burning on the Navajo and Hopi Nations. We buried a good friend in Tuba City and we buried my father, a year after he and Mom had visited us and toured Arizona.

A phone call, in the early morning hours, in January, 1986, was the inception of Korea world (1986-92) That, and the second Navajo-Hopi world (1992-98) will make up Part III..

Blue, Green and Red

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

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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Posted by on in Family, Inner Struggles, Social, Striving, Travel

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.