1000 Words….

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I looked up the adage “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words” and Wikipedia came up with a good article, linked above.

The search was occasioned by a photo I used along with yesterday’s birthday post, which brings meaning to the adage.  As the front and center guy in the photo, then nearly six years old, I can flesh out this particular photo, taken by some unknown friend or neighbor of my grandparents Bernard.

Bernards 1946

Over the years I’ve become something of a sleuth with old photos, most of which appear without any caption or, as bad, had captions obliterated by being pasted in an album.

This one I know had to be early 1946 in Grafton ND, at 738 Cooper Avenue.  Frank, held by Dad, had been born in November, 1945, too young to be a nuisance to his older brother.  Brother John was two years down the pike.  Mary Ann and Florence were old enough to be pests….

World War II was finally over, and travel restrictions were probably lifted by then.  Frank was the first boy born after Uncle Frank, Dad’s brother, went down with the Arizona at Pearl Harbor, and was doubtless Uncle Frank’s namesake.

At the time, we had been only a few months in Sykeston ND, 160 or so road miles from Grafton.

Back then, all of the trip would have been on pavement, in the 1937 Ford with suicide doors (they weren’t called that, then, but they had the same effect if opened at highway speed).

We kids wouldn’t have noticed, but doubtless on this trip Mom would have sat in the back seat with the flock. Maybe I would have been allowed to sit in the front seat by Dad.  There were no luxuries in these cars.  They were strictly designed to get from here to there.

Seatbelts? Forget about it.

Easter was April 21, 1946, and it was pretty likely this was an Easter visit with the new arrival.  Bad weather was less likely by the end of April.  AccuWeather was many years away from signaling incoming bad weather.

Grandma and Grandpa’s house was very tiny.  Today a standard business room in a motel would be as large as their house.  A Murphy bed folded into one of the walls of the room that passed as living room/bedroom.

I don’t recall ever staying in a hotel until Grandpa died in 1957, and that was one night in the Basell in Grafton ND, with my Dad.

On road trips like the one in 1946, strategic planning presumed returning home the same day, or staying at a relatives home.  738 Cooper Avenue would have been an extremely difficult overnight for adults.  We kids would have survived.

Grandma would have been an excellent hostess.

There is something else about this particular picture.  It was about this time in history where Grandpa Bernard lost his first leg to diabetes.  I think this was in the summer of 1946.  By the time of the pictured visit, it appears that a bench had been built on the tiny porch where Grandpa could sit and watch the world go by.  (At the time of the photo he would have been 74, and Grandma 64.  Mom was 36 and Dad 38.)

In later visits, when Grandpa was comfortable with his lost limb – below the knee – he would entertain we kids with the stub.  I don’t think he had lost his leg yet, in this picture.

Ultimately he lost the second leg in 1957, and soon thereafter died in the Fargo VA Hospital.

Thoughts at 83.

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Pre-Note: Molly can always be counted on for relevant poetry.  Here are a few for Spring: Spring poems from Molly.  Some comments from Molly at end of this post.

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Today is my 83rd birthday.  It’s not one of those events that’s a show-stopper, like 21, or 30 or 50, but so it is.

Actually, it’s the 1st day of my 84th year (our first birthday is day 365 after birth).

Best I know at this moment, it will be just a normal day: to coffee; my walk; a birthday lunch; a meeting tonight.  Except for the word “birthday”, a pretty usual day, as I prefer.

Grandson Parker is 21 today.  He’s finishing his junior year, engineering, at university.  Three years ago, June 7, 2020, when Covid-19 was raging, he and his colleague high schoolers had a most unconventional end to their most unconventional senior year.  We were there for the commencement, such as it was.

Life goes on, with all its unusual twists and turns, as we all know.  I’m going to try to keep track of today and tomorrows news: my own time capsule of where we’re at as a country and world.   I’ll summarize in a post perhaps on Saturday.

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The calculator says I’ve been wandering around earth for over 30,000 days – plenty of time for all variety of events, minuses, pluses, mistakes, small success’s, failures, on and on.  A life like most all of ours.

The birthday photo I choose is not especially attractive.  It was taken a week or so ago by long-time friend Larry in Fargo ND.  You can only do so much with your subject!

April 24, 2023, Fargo ND, 48 hours and 700 miles into a trip….

Just for the record, when that photo was taken, I was 48 hours and 700 miles into about 1,000 miles of driving to places familiar in the Red River Valley.  I wasn’t out to impress anybody – certainly not myself.  I remember 1992, when my Dad, then 84, decided to make a similar solo trip to Fargo for the ordination of his god-son…and was irritated at me for not trusting that he could make the trip (which was by bus from St. Louis area).

Dad did just fine.  But, now at his age, then, I acknowledge we olders have to learn to act our age.  There’s a great deal I can still do: long trips are best left to others.

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Among the memories processed in the 48 hours preceding the photo, was a brief visit to Hallock Minnesota, where I began my years in public education 60 years ago this year.  I was just out of the Army, and two years removed from college, and it was the beginning of two of the most difficult years of my entire life since.  We lived in the upstairs of the house in the photo – Casper and Inga Mattson’s – for only a few months.

President Kennedy was assassinated that year, Nov. 22, 1963; the Beatle’s made their debut in America on the radio and then the Ed Sullivan Show; the house was son Tom’s first home, briefly.  There are memories never to be forgotten.  It was a formative time – unplanned and unexpected.   Anyone who knows me knows the elements of the story.

Hallock MN Apr. 23, 2023

I suppose it is human nature to review our own travels in life – the road ahead is never as certain as we imagined it might be.

I wonder how Parker, at 21, sees his future.  No doubt, it will ‘bob and weave’ in ways he can’t imagine, today.

For me, I divide the memories of my time on earth so far, thusly: My 20s and 30s were filled with lessons of learning how life can be; 40s and 50s, most of my work years,  had their challenges, but also their satisfactions.  60s and 70s I was retired, and learned that indeed there is life after retirement.

Sometime back I made a list of the people who “coached” me in my retirement activities.  They were mostly, though not all,  in their 70s and 80s when I met and worked with them, and half of them – there were about two dozen in all – are deceased. These post retirement mentors were marvelous.  My own models and experiences and yours differ.  But we all have them.

My 80s are evolving.  Basically my circle is older people.  Those of us who have made it this far have a bucket full of relevant experience, noticeable and even useful if recognized.

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As I write I think of the most memorable moment of this past year for me.

Last summer, I was in Bismarck ND, and had an opportunity to visit the bowels of the archaeology archives at the state historical society with the manager of the very impressive facility.  The Manager, a very knowledgeable PhD, was showing me some ancient artifacts of native history of ancient North Dakota – things like shards of pottery, etc.  Clues of long past human endeavor.

As we were ending our visit I said to him: “tomorrow, our conversation today will be history”.  I could see by his expression that I’d hit on something he hadn’t thought a lot about.  Yesterday is as much history as was 10,000 years ago – we just don’t see it that way.

When I publish this post, it will be history.  Take some time to think about your yesterdays and tomorrows, too.

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Birthday suggestions, if you wish:

Recommendation of a free movie, on-line: Beyond the Divide.  Set in Missoula MT, it is an inspirational documentary about bridging differences of opinion.  It is a few years old, but more pertinent than ever in our fractured society.

I am enthusiastic about the value of and need for Forgiveness.  Check here for access to more information.

If you’re looking for inspiration about whether or not you can make a difference, watch The World Is My Country.

The pastor of my Church, Basilica of St. Mary, is offering a 13-session on “Catholic social teaching”.  Details are here.  By no means is everyone Catholic, nor do all Catholics agree amongst themselves on this or that part of the teaching, but the program is of sufficient interest that I plan to watch all the sessions of about 30 minutes each.  At least, check it out.

Finally, last Sunday, Fr. Joe Gillespie, Senior Associate at Basilica and a gifted homilist, wrote an especially powerful and thought-provoking column for the parish newsletter: “Fr Joe Gillespie Human Mind and Parachute”  is the link to the two pages, if you are interested.

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The final note, from Molly, sent to her list, of which I’m privileged to be part (her poetry selections lead this post).  I think she’s about my age:

“I’m a bit late with spring poetry this year–the Star Magnolias (a very winter-tolerant cultivar) are blooming in my neighborhood, some early warblers are flying in, and the wild ginger and pasque flowers are beautifully blooming!  The frogs have been singing on warmer evenings in the nearby marsh, too.
Most of these are poems that long-time poem recipients among you have seen… but I’ll bet the Shakespeare quote is new to most…(that’s why I meant to send this batch in April…)
For about the last 10 days, I have also been seeing the cardinals courting, per the attached poem. It’s funl to watch,indeed.– I watched him  chasing her for a few weeks before she let him catch up to start giving her the sunflower seeds.

Oh, to other stuff re bird migration–warblers are coming in now, as are some of the later sparrows…and, I’ve still been seeing vultures & eagles heading north.
Blessings & sounds of spring to you.”

 

 

 

A Catholic Topic

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The e-mail brought notice of a 13 session program on-line, and I intend to participate, on a weekly basis.  The link is here.  Each session is about 30 minutes, about Catholic Social Teaching.  I’ve watched the first session.

Your choice.  If you have an interest you might want to check this out.

Those who follow this blog know that I’m lifelong Catholic and going to church is important to me.

While attempts are made to portray Catholicism as a simple deal; fact is the Church of my birth is a very complicated enterprise with a very long history and by no means is it simply defined.

Somebody has estimated that of the worlds population of about 8 billion, about 18% – 1.3 billion – are said to be Catholic.  I’m guessing this just comes from a simple question to a particular sample: “what is your religious background?”  Or similar.

Of the United States population of 330,000,000, about 22% self-identify as Catholic.  Similarly, of Minnesota 5.7 million residents, about 22% call themselves Catholic.

Here begins a much more slippery slope: The Catholic Church is a voluntary association, and its official face is not a democracy in any sense of the political word.  Everyone who enters a Catholic Church is an individual, and is there for his or her own reasons.  Nobody can be forced to do anything.

I once heard an interesting statistic, from a Priest who was in a position to know the official data, that perhaps 30% of Catholics actually attend church on any given Sunday.  Politically, Catholics are on the same very broad spectrum as the rest of the body politic, from left to right and all shades in between.

At the same time, depending on one’s point of view, the official church messes around in politics all the time, right at the edge of legality and sometimes over the edge.

Father Griffith, the lecturer of the series, doubtless speaks with direct knowledge of the official church position, and what he says is with the approval of the institution.  He is pastor of my Church, appointed by the hierarchy; he is also a professor of Law at a Catholic University, St. Thomas in St. Paul, and obviously knowledgeable.  He is completing his first year with Basilica this summer, and I find him a positive asset to the Church.  That doesn’t mean I will agree with everything he has to say.  He represents the institution and whomever happens to be in power at the time.

I mention all of this only to emphasize that the lecture series is the official churches point of view.

I’ll comment some weeks down the road once I’ve listened to all the talks.  My plan: one a week.