Tuesday, September 29, 2020

WHAT HAS CHANGED

                                              

It is probably early October when you are reading this but it is 9/11/ 2020 as I write it. It was a day 19 years ago when this nation was attacked by radicals that were nothing more than cold blooded, calculated killers. Cowards who neither had the means nor the skills to attack those they hated the most, so instead they killed the innocent, the pawns in the war on terror, to try and strike fear into the hearts of the American people. They failed miserably because if there was one day in the last twenty years when the American people never felt closer to each other-- it was that day. But that closeness never lasted.

 

As a writer I wish I could find the words that describe the depths of grief and loss that came with the people that lost their lives’ that day. The children who lost their mom’s or dad’s. The sons and daughters, friends and neighbors, wives and husbands who never came home that night. I wish I could write descriptive words that would paint you the picture but I can’t because the words to adequately describe that kind of grief, have never been written and I know of no one capable of doing that. The depth, the scope of it all, well it’s unimaginable. 2,135 civilians, 372 non-citizens and 343 New York City firefighters and many more police and paramedics. Then there were many more deaths at the Pentagon and Shanksville to compound the grief.

 

Today a new tower stands where the twin towers stood, a testament to the resilience of the people of that city. The memorial to the fallen there has been visited by millions. The prayers that have been uttered and the tears that have fallen on that hallowed ground probably dwarf any other memorial response in this land. One would hope that this was the day that changed America. But the organization that sponsored that deadly day still exists and is active 19 years later and there seems to be little we can do about it.

 

Yet today, we are in the midst of a pandemic that dwarfs the list of fallen on 9/11 and the death toll is climbing. Still for many their cry is, “Party on.” In California the state is burning and thousands are losing their homes. As of this morning six more storms are winding their way across the Atlantic towards the homeland. Almost every state is in some kind of financial difficulty and the National Debt-- well there is no hope of ever paying it off. The war on drugs is a dismal failure after spending well over a trillion dollars to stop it. People have no jobs. This is just the highlights. I no longer watch the news because I don’t need the daily reminders of how bad things are. I know full well that ignorance doesn’t stop anything. It’s just too painful to see.

 

I meet with my old friends each week to share our thoughts and concerns and although we run the gambit of different political beliefs and different faiths, we have one big thing in common. Our love and concern for each other and our friends and families. Our bodies are filled with arthritic pain and our minds don’t operate the way they used too. We all remember a better time and a better place. We all remember loved ones, who have gone on before us and we accept that and live around the holes in our hearts. Yet, outside of our precious memories we live in the moment because we know the next moment is not guaranteed. We have found some semblance of companionship at this level. At least at this level and in this brief moment, we have driven hate and fear away. Until this world learns to heal and do that, we will all suffer on.

Monday, September 21, 2020

WHAT TO WRITE

 

As a writer I used to sometimes search for topics that I thought would peak the interest of my readers. I would steer away from controversial topics or areas that seemed to be too much opinion and not enough facts but now, we have entered an era when even the facts don’t matter. As for politics, as a centrist myself with friends on both side of the aisle I recognized it was hard to get into those topics without alienating people I cared for and I have in the past found out, that was to often the case. So, it was just best to avoid those subjects. But in today’s world and todays political climate, that doesn’t leave much room for anything else.

 

I used to remember clergy talking about the end times and how the bible said that a time would come when brothers would be pitted against brothers. I am sure in the Bible the word brother was used in the context of more than just your physically related brothers and was meant to include sisters, family, friends and neighbors. I would look at those around me and say to myself could I ever forsake a friendship for the sake of a political issue? We have always disagreed about things and we have always agreed to disagree but the other day I read a piece that called that practice a cop out. That, that approach was no longer acceptable to the party faithful. That the only thing in the middle of the road was yellow lines and dead animals. “Take a stand,” it said or get the hell away from me. That same clergy I talked about at the start of this paragraph would often tell us from the pulpit “That wasn’t right” and that was okay coming from them, because it was called righteous condemnation. Instead we took it and turned it into righteous indignation to sooth our inflated egos.

 

I know it’s close to the election and things are very contentious. I remember a time when elections were held and then it would be three years later before the contentious topics raised their ugly heads again. A day when politicians weren’t running for reelection the day after the election and at least for a short while, they went to work for the people. We could once again talk over the fence about the weather, our health and work, our family’s.

 

I love history and read it often, the good the bad and the ugly. I would sometimes read accounts of dictators who murdered their dissenters and I would say to myself who can do that? Who can kill innocent people? Most of the time I found out it wasn’t the dictators themselves who did the grizzly deeds but people they appointed to do that. Then the question was raised in my mind what drives the people who worked for those dictators to do that? There were so many answers but the one that toped my list was fear. Fear of what would happen to them and their families.  Look around us today and you will find politicians who aren’t talking about what they want to accomplish f they win. They are only talking about what is going to happen to you if they don’t. That’s called fear mongering and it works. I want to say that’s not ethical but what is ethical nowadays.

 

It's Sunday morning and I’m missing my church. I go not so often to ask for favors but to be grateful for the life I have enjoyed. I long ago recognized where goodness came from and it wasn’t from Washington. To those of you who have no faith I ask, “Who are you grateful to?”

Thursday, September 10, 2020

SO UNFAIR


 

Many years ago, I went to the funeral of a fallen firefighter from a neighboring city. The response was so overwhelming that the church was filled to overcapacity and they lined up outside on the sidewalks. At the conclusion of the service, the man’s body was hoisted up by his fellow firefighters, and placed on the back of the engine. His last ride. The procession of emergency vehicles that day stretched as far as the eye could see. The funeral was in a northern suburb and the procession made its way south to Fort Snelling for the burial, as the man was also a veteran. It was a cold and blustery winter day but as we made our way down the freeways, on every overpass stood a contingent of firefighters at attention beside their apparatus. This went on for miles upon miles. This man was a young man with kids and a wife and he had everything to live for. I am sure he never dreamt it would end this way.

 

I contrast this with the people who are passing away from the virus and truthfully almost anything else right now. All of them are somebody’s daughter, son, sister, brother, father or mother or simply a good friend. Silently and almost unceremoniously they are committed to the earth, nearly alone. Their lives ending with little fanfare. They will never receive the public recognition they deserved, for a life well lived and all of those who knew them will never get to say a proper goodbye. Most of them too, I am sure, never dreamt it would end this way. They-- in the words of the poet Robert Frost, “Had promises to keep and miles to go before they sleep.” Their family’s want to scream stop. Do you know who this was? Do you know what he/she accomplished in their life? Do you really understand what they meant to us who are left behind to mourn?

 

 I am no stranger to death. We, as firefighters always tried to show as much dignity as we could when we were called to those scenes. Now, today, bodies are being lifted into refrigerated trucks by a forklift until they can be processed. Instead of a name they have become a number. Goodbyes seem to have been relegated only to the hearts of those close to them. Friends and neighbors are left forgotten. They will soon slip into anonymity and their stories will never be told. I don’t think many of us ever dreamed that there would be a time like this in our country. A time when death became so common place, there was little time left to deal with it or dwell on it.

 

As tragic as the death of that young firefighter was so many years ago, he was given that hero’s funeral he deserved. It doesn’t soften deaths sting or make death any easier but he will long be remembered for not only the way he lived but also for the way he died. So many of the deaths today of victims of the pandemic are not being remembered for the way they lived but more so only for the way they died and that is tragic.

 

I hope that someday when this is all over, that an annual day of recognition will be set aside for all the victims of the pandemic and they will have their day in the sun. That not only will the roll be called up yonder, but it will also be called right here on Mother Earth. Lest we forget and may all the victims rest in peace.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

WHERE WE ARE WITH IT.

  


 

I mowed the grass this morning and there they were, the first telltale signs of the impending fall. Several dead leaves laid on the lawn and they weren’t from storm damage. It’s only the third week of the month of August I thought to myself and here we are mired in the dog days of what many believe is the last full month of summer. There have been other signs of the end of summer like acorns in the driveway and the ripened choke cherries. Sumac getting red. Except for the tomatoes, most of the garden is done and at night it’s now dark at eight thirty. But these are seasonal things I have grown to except and respect. There is nothing on Gods green earth we can do to alter that. When I was a young man summers just came and went and I never thought much of it. But, as I have now become a tired old senior citizen, I realize that those summer hiatuses I love are limited and I need to make the most of each and every one. 

 

This year though, the pandemic came along and the best laid plans went out the window. The lists of do’s and don’ts I had learned, had far more don’ts then dos. My somewhat carefully structured life became confused and unhinged. Change come’s hard at my age. Some of it may be stubbornness because of what I had enjoyed and had been enjoying was tried and true but part of it is, I just didn’t have the time or desire to try new ways to live my life. I had never thought what would it be like to not hug my family and friends. Worship the way, I had for fifty years. I wanted to shop in the stores without masks and temperature checks. I wanted to have company and laugh around the campfire. Yes, it was a whole new world. There seemed to be so much confusion in the world and yet so many different opinions of how to act and even out right mutiny from some. Seemingly there was no one in charge. Every state, every county and city had their own program. It seemed to me to be a recipe for disaster.

 

When you think about it, eventually out of these disasters and calamities that we didn’t expect, come those whose words sooth the masses. Right or wrong these leaders try to gather the best minds and the best information and pass it on to the population. Their only agenda is to ease the suffering. Criticism seems to be in short supply for those who try their best to rectifie a situation and are honest about it, no matter the outcome. Prudent people realize that all of the answers aren’t always there and there may not even be one. But when you do take a wrong path the best route forward is to take a step back and then never giving up, go forward again. But when you refuse to admit you were wrong and continue on the same wrong course it would seem that at some point the truth catches up with the wrong doings and then things are a whole lot worse for everyone. So even though the summer I so revered, became compromised by a pandemic and the politics it spawned, I need to hold out hope for a better one next year. A hope that a lesson will be learned from the mess that was made. That we will hold dear the memories of those who were lost and resolve to be better prepared for the next time this happens-- as it will. These aren’t really changes. Those choices have always been with us. We have always had rights and wrongs and politics. As Thomas Pain said, “These are the times that try mans souls.” I really believe he meant these are the times that test man’s souls, to make better choices between right and wrong.