A Million Copies

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Today, Sunday, July 26, 2026, is 100 days from Election Day November 3.

My personal message is simple: be sure you are registered to vote, and vote well informed, for every office on your ballot.

Every place will have differing specifics about who’s on the ballot, and specific procedures.  A website to visit first, wherever you live, is https://vote.gov/.  Insert your address, and you’ll find out your registration status, etc.

The buck stops with each and every one of us.  The first key is to VOTE well informed….  There is plenty of time, but don’t waste it.  Share.

A BRIEF NOTE ON THE TITLE OF THIS POST, “A MILLION COPIES’

Years ago, during Vietnam days, John Denver popularized a Peace Anthem, “Last Night I had the Strangest Dream”, including the lyric “A million copies made”.  YouTube has several John Denver renditions.

In 2007, I heard an old man, Lynn Elling, then about my current age, sing the song at a meeting I was attending, and I was hooked.  Later I learned the song had been composed by folksinger Ed McCurdy about 1950.  Here is an early version by McCurdy.

In 2008, I put up a still-existing website, AMillionCopies, a Tribute to peacemakers Lynn Elling and Joe Schwartzberg, which includes a half hour movie produced by Lynn in about 1971, which features John Denver singing the peace anthem (it is early in the film, between about 2:30 and 6:00 minutes, and it was performed in the Twin Cities specifically for the film, a private and authorized use of the recording.)

It occurs to me that “A Million Copies” had a different meaning in 1950, when McCurdy first performed the song, in 1971, 2007 and today.

In 1950, “A million copies made” was a big deal, requiring printing and distribution.

Today, a million copies is a pretty simple viral matter on-line.  But it’s a very thin number.

McCurdy’s Million was a number at work – it took effort to achieve results.

Not so with the Tip Tok number, which can be consumed instantly, and as instantly be discarded for the next million views.

In a democracy, as ours has been at least till now, a million means the same as it did when McCurdy wrote it: we all have an equal role to play in our success or failure as a society.

As we elect our representatives in November, lots of boots on the ground effort will be required.  Get in action in your own way at your own location.

 

AHEAD:  

I stay abreast of the news from credible sources with reputations earned over the long term,  I’ve shared the sources before.  The sources continue.

It does not seem productive  to just regurgitate the outrage of the hour – We  are well into the 6th year, the most recent 18 months the worst.

So…I will continue writing, but basically off the beaten political path.  This does not mean I have gone to the dark side – not at all.  Rather just a reorientation at least on this ‘printed page’.

I’ll keep on, keeping on.

OTHER POSTS: If you wish, here are some other posts in July:  Click on archive calendar at right.  The July 3 post, the first two paragraphs have links to reflections by 8 individuals, related to America’s 250th.

Others: July 6 re Air Force One; July 10 – The Mt Rushmore Quartet; July 16 – Register Vote Act; July 20; Hitler, Stalin; July 24 – 1963-66 personal reflection;

COMMENTS:

from John: I always find it crazy how many people end up not voting, even in high profile elections given the availability of absentee and early voting.

 

 

1963-66

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61 years ago today, July 24, 1965, my wife, Barbara, age 22, died at the University of Minnesota Hospital in Minneapolis.  She had been hospitalized there for 58 days, awaiting the possibility of a kidney transplant, a condition which had been part of our lives the entirety of our two year marriage.  Our son was a few months over one year old at the time of her death.  He is now 62.

There are endless details.  61 years is a long time, and 61 is not a notable anniversary, but the event came to mind without intention (see following para), and it seems a worthwhile time to revisit what was a very difficult time in two lives and the exemplary roles of medicine and community at the time, with possibly some learning opportunities for both in the present day.

This writing is for anyone who might be interested in the topic, but specifically it is for the medical and government institutions which became involved at the time.  This heightened awareness – recollection – came about because a friend of mine, active in a twin cities Senior Kiwanis chapter, told me about a session they were going to have about revitalization of rural health policy.

The situation long ago for my wife and I was very much a creature of rural medical and public policy in 1963-66,   I attended the local meeting on July 21, 2026.  It was excellent.

This writing does not pertain to any contents of the meeting, whose speakers were two Minnesota state legislators with a passion in support of effective public health .

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Before the meeting I shared with my friend a four page summary of the 1964-65 personal experience.  It can be read here: Medical 1964-66 A.

By the time of the meeting, I recalled keeping some correspondence during the time of the medical crisis. I had kept the material in a file all these years.  It includes 10 letters from government entities, which speak for themselves: Medical Care 1964-66 C.

I reiterate: there is no criticism made about anything at the time, or now.  Our experience was about personal reality, not theory.  Life was moment to moment.

*

Recently, I tried to describe what we went through with a friend of Barbara’s during her high school days. He is a retired vice-president of a well known health insurance provider.  Essentially I described my personal situation in 1964-66, thusly:  it was like being in a canoe, and after losing the only paddle, approaching a waterfall on a river.  You can see big trouble ahead, but there is nothing you can do.

You go over the waterfall, and by some quirk you survive, but now you face the prospect of continuing the trip, not knowing what is ahead, but without either paddle or canoe….   All that you have is the present.

Larry, the friend, allowed that the description made sense.  Each and every day, somewhere, others are facing a similar crisis.  What can we do?

As the legislators were talking on the 21st, I kept looking at the Kiwanis banner just beyond them.

Legislators July 21, 2026

Minnesota Legislators at Kiwanis July 21, 2026

The banner says it all, about any aspect of community, be it medical, fire, etc., etc.  We are members of a community which, in my reading, is all of us, anywhere in this state, country and world.

My thanks to everyone who cares.  Do take the time to read the links, and feel free to share.  Perhaps something in the contents will resonate….

PS:  Most likely, everyone who wrote the letters shared above are long deceased.  I want especially to note two of them, Julius W. Bartels, who was the hospital administrator and Barbara’s ambulance driver in Elgin in May of 1965.  Not long afterwards, I think Nov. 20, 1965, Mr. Bartels was taking another patient and her husband to Bismarck, on the same country highway.  This particular day, to my recollection from the newspaper of the time, Bartels collided with a grain truck entering the highway, probably out of his sightline until right before the accident.  He and his passengers were killed, and if memory served, the large family of husband and wife was orphaned….  Bartels was 45 years old.

Delano Pfeifle, then a young physician apparently in his first year of practice at then-Quain and Ramstad Clinic in Bismarck ND, did much heavy lifting, helping facilitate the inevitable trip to University of Minnesota Hospital in Minneapolis.

PS 2: The last letter is a refund of Barbara’s ND teacher retirement account.  She had started her first school year in North Dakota in 1963, but had to resign less than two months into the term.  In Elgin, she tried to substitute, but to my knowledge could only do two days due to her illness.  My son qualified for minimal social security benefits due to policy at the time.  Barbara had worked in sufficient quarters to qualify for Social Security, even perhaps not more than a day in a quarter.

PS 3:  Three days before Barbara died, I signed a teaching contract for the Anoka-Hennepin School District.  This was my third year of teaching.  Needless to say, the beginning of my time in the Twin Cities was unusual to say the least.  I taught nine years in all, thence came 27 years representing public school teachers through MEA and then Education Minnesota, retiring in 2000.

Barbara’s funeral was in Valley City North Dakota July 29, 1965.  Unknown by me until years later, the next day, July 30, 1965, Lyndon Johnson signed the Medicare Act into Law.

Dick and Barbara and Tom Bernard, August 1964

 

Hitler and Stalin…and Wildfires

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Lsst Thursday I noted: “I subscribe to Tim Snyder’s Substack and yesterday he gave the first of ten lectures on successive Wednesdays as described here.  I watched the first 90 minute segment and it was worth the time.   If you have an interest and can access the program, you may find it very worthwhile.”  NOTE: Lecture 2 is Wednesday, July 22

SAK followed through.  Here is his review of the first segment:

Well thanks ever so much for that Mr Bernard!

I looked prof Snyder up & he was born in 1969 into a Quaker family – love those peaceful Quakers! I also knew Quakers had founded a couple of banks & other major companies in the UK but it turned one or more started . . . Barclays & Lloyds banks, Cadbury, Amnesty International, Sony, Bethlehem Steel, Western Union, Johns Hopkins University . . .

Another connection: a cute film I enjoyed recently was set in freezing Quebec & had its main character called Paul Snyder (or Sneijder?) who is fed up with money, business, negotiations . . . & decides to become a dog walker.

I digress, apologies!

Well Tim, or Timothy, Snyder taught me quite a few things like the past is still with us & one can see this all round. Divisions in the US, Sunni-Shi’ite divisions in Islam, racism, China & “the west” & Japan . . . According to him the past hasn’t happened but is happenING. And he adds: nobody really knows what is happening now.

I recall something by William Faulkner that went like: the past is not dead, it’s not even past. T.S. Eliot in his Four Quartets wrote:

“Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.

Tim Snyder said similar things but he insisted that history is written not in poetry – as Borowski would have wished, being a poet – but in prose. Still Mr Snyder said something that resonates in T.S. Eliot: that what happened must have been possible because it happened. He mentions concentration camps & mass murder as examples. One could add that this president would be elected etc.

When politicians talk about past they are not telling actual history – it’s not so simple or clear.

When a politician says we are going back to some golden period, Tim Snyder says:

1-That is impossible, history does not repeat

2- The politician has decided which period is the good one

3- We are thus dis-impowered since for a start we did not choose the time to go back to

Snyder agrees with Borowski that we, none of us, are just victims or just executioners. That reminded me of Albert Camus’ little book “Neither Victims nor Executioners” which I typed years ago – I was that impressed, still am with Camus. I might have sent it to you as a word document.

He says there is no document that reveals the truth – one goes from one document to another .  .  .  Always need more primary sources. I learnt about the craft of the historian, about primary & secondary sources. How we look to the first to contradict – go against the grain – while we look to the secondary ones going with the grain. Interesting!

*

Thanks again. [Question] How do we listen to the second lecture!?  [Dick: First, to your last sentence: The programs are every Wednesday.  I think the drill is he wants a subscription which can be no cost.  He mostly wants to share his information, and he has always come across as a very credible source.  He has a lot of interest in Ukraine, specifically.  Anyway, you know his substack, and just check out how to access by this Wednesday, July 22.]

*

SAK: I would like to add that although Mr Snyder says the past is still with us, we are not determined by it. He mentions that many lines run from the past & some continue on. It is up to some of us to support the lines we feel are the better ones. This is how I perceive your field work & writings Mr Bernard: giving a hand to the liberal lines of peace & justice. If I may also say this is also how I see the work of the last two Popes!

It parallels the fable you had on your website those years ago & which was my introduction to your Thoughts Towards A Better World!

A grandfather (or a native American?) is talking with his grandson.

The grandfather says, “In life, there are two wolves inside of us which are always at battle.

One is a good wolf which represents things like kindness, bravery, and love.

The other is a bad wolf which represents things like greed, hatred, and fear”.

The grandson stops and thinks about it for a second then he looks up at his grandfather and says, “Grandfather, which one wins?”

The grandfather replies, “The one you feed.”

*

Sorry I am taking too much of your time! but I just found out about a sad piece of news: Edward Stourton, a journalist I liked who most recently was the BBC’s presenter of Sunday, a programme about religious issues has passed away at the young age of 68.

& connecting with Tim Snyder & the topic of history:

Stourton’s “last book, written to coincide with the 250th anniversary of the American Declaration of Independence, was “Made in America: the Dark History that Led to Donald Trump.”

The book confirms Tim Snyder’s idea about lines of history & how some carry on . . . & on . . .

The riveting new exploration of American history – and how it has led to the era of Donald Trump – from the award-winning political broadcaster.

‘A well argued and elegant answer to the question, ‘how did America get to this place?’‘ Justin Webb, presenter of Americast (https://www.bbc.com/audio/brand/p07h19zz)

‘Pithy, entertaining and informative’ Guardian

Trump’s second term, even more than his first, is often called ‘unprecedented’. But history shows that Trump and his policies are as American as apple pie…

Much of what Donald Trump does seems maverick and even mad. His actions and policy pronouncements are a stark rupture from the American style of leadership that we have lived with all our lives. Plenty of people – on both sides of the Atlantic – have argued that he will destroy his country’s democracy.

But whether we like them or not, his trade tariffs, his determination to deport tens of thousands of people, and his apparent contempt for the rule of law are deeply rooted in American history.

Made in America shows how the ideal of liberty has been tested in past generations, from the first intolerant Pilgrims to the brutal invasion of Mexico, and reveals the dark side of the American Dream in order to offer urgent lessons to our turbulent present.

WILDFIRES

Coincident with this post we are dealing again with the consequences of wildfires north of us, including in the Boundary Waters area.  This was a serious problem last summer, and is again.

Within the last few days, in one of my perpetual quests to stay keep things reasonably well organized, I came across a rolled up poster from the Busch farm.  I unrolled it, got it somewhat flattened out, and here it is:

U.S. Department of Agriculture poster 1975

My Uncle and Aunt kept a lot of things, but not everything.  But for whatever reason, this poster was one of the keepers.  They were very conscious of the prairie environment of which they were a part.  This poster originated as a work of art by Augusta I Corson Metcalfe for Security State Bank, Cheyenne OK.

This is just a reminder that there is a strong undercurrent of environmental awareness. that long precedes us.

Register. Vote. Act.

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PRENOTE;  This post is about Voting.  More below this note.  It is no coincidence that I am posting before the Presidents speech tonight.  We need to be actively engaged.

Midday today I went to MN Orchestra performance.  This was a fill-in for a previously missed concert, and this was one of last concerts of the season, so I ended up in the third balcony in an otherwise full house.  There are no bad seats at Orchestra Hall, and the concert was superb.  The acoustics are phenomenal.  Here’s a photo at the end of the Beethoven piece.

 

Orchestra Hall Minneapolis MN July 16, 2026

We are short-season ticket holders at the Orchestra, and have been for many years.  This day, I found myself musing about the orchestra and we in the audience as community, in the greater sense.  For a conductor and orchestra to work, there is teamwork beyond what most of us can imagine.  And the chemistry between band and audience is an essential.  What if, I mused, the conductor only recognized one-half of the orchestra.  The other half had no role but to sit there.  What if only half of the house was filled, and they were all sitting on the same side?

I’m thinking of course of our current political nation.  We are certainly no finely tuned orchestra.  Divided we fail.

On a related note. I subscribe to Tim Snyder’s Substack and yesterday he gave the first of ten lectures on successive Wednesdays as described here.  I watched the first 90 minute segment and it was worth the time.   If you have an interest and can access the program, you may find it very worthwhile.

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VOTING

Election Day is November 3 2026.  In my state, Minnesota, here are the dates.  We are over 240,000,000 eligible (18 years or over) voters in the U.S.  For voter registration anywhere, here is the portal.

Our right to vote is available, free, to each and every eligible citizen for each and every elective position on their ballot in our country, the United States of America.

Daily, we are all learning is the cost of a single vote.  Of course, our vote is private; but the results for all of us are not.  We, the people, all of us, need to think about the implications of our single action – or inaction – in 2024.

There are those who are terrified by Democracy and whose campaign is to reduce by any means available the number of people who can and will vote.  This is an active threat.

In the last presidential election, roughly a third voted Republican, Democrat, or not at all.  There is no “Independent” entity, though a small percentage voted with splinter groups of one sort of another.

We – all of us – are accountable for our vote (or non-vote) in every election.  The benefit (or penalty) depends on our own individual free choice.  The buck stops with each of us, individually.

For your, my and our future, at minimum be certain you are registered to vote and that you cast a well-informed ballot for all positions up for election on November 3, 2026.  On July 27, 100 days remain to election day.

You have a single opportunity to select your elected officials for their terms of office, usually two or four years, sometimes one, sometimes six….  Don’t waste your opportunity by not voting, or voting without knowledge of your preferred candidate and the implications of your vote.  Vote well informed.

POSTNOTE: Carlo sent her personal opinion about the notion of denying otherwise qualified person from the vote via the misnamed SAFE Act, now being promoted.

She does not agree.   I agree with her assessment.  Of course, there is much more to be said.  I present Carlo’s as one expressed opinion on a critical issue.

“It is time to stop the misinformation. 

 

Please take out copies of the Constitution, read it, and use it to stop Donald Trump’s lies and schemes regarding a woman’s right to vote. 

I suggest that Mr. Trump is counting on citizens’ lack of knowledge of the Constitution to continue his campaign of disenfranchisement of a woman’s right to vote.

The SAVE Act

Question!

Does the Republican Party and President Donald Trump with passage of the SAVE Act have the right to override the 19th Amendment with a simple vote in Congress?

The 19th Amendment of the Constitution gives women the unabridged right to vote. 

A birth certificate, a passport, or proof of is citizenship are not stated in that amendment and therefore not required for a woman to vote. 

The 19th amendment states the following:

Nineteenth Amendment

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.

Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

[Office of the Federal Register (OFR).]

If Congress wants to change the 19th Amendment The following will be necessary:

Article V, U.S. Constitution

* * * * * * * * * * 

Article V

The Congress, whenever two thirds of both houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose amendments to this Constitution, or, on the application of the legislatures of two thirds of the several states, shall call a convention for proposing amendments, which, in either case, shall be valid to all intents and purposes, as part of this Constitution, when ratified by the legislatures of three fourths of the several states, or by conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of ratification may be proposed by the Congress; provided that no amendment which may be made prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any manner affect the first and fourth clauses in the ninth section of the first article; and that no state, without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrage in the Senate.

[Officer of the Federal Register (OFR)]

The Constitution has not been amended regarding a woman’s right to vote therefore the 19th Amendment stands as written and does not require a woman to produce a passport, birth certificate, or proof of citizenship in order to vote. 

Therefore the right of citizens of the United States right to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.

Please inform the PEOPLE!

Thank you

CSM”

 

 

 

The Mt. Rushmore Quartet

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If you have Facebook, take the time to watch and listen to this.

Here’s a little context from the mid-1930s – a photo taken on a honeymoon trip….

Mt. Rushmore, 1930s

Air Force One

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I noticed that the President made a visit to my home state of North Dakota and neighboring South Dakota right before July 4.  Best I can gather, he flew into Bismarck, probably helicopter to Medora ND and the new Teddy Roosevelt Presidential Library; thence back to Bismarck, to Ellsworth Air Force Base near Rapid City SD and helicopter for a major event at Mt. Rushmore.

It is nice to have an Air Force base nearby to land a 747, and convenient connecting flights to the back country which is western Dakota….  Geographically it is a short trip – less than 300 miles – from Medora to Mt. Rushmore.

Because I’m a North Dakota native, I know the territory and have “been there, done that”, both Medora and Mt. Rushmore.  Teddy Roosevelt gave lots of credit to North Dakota for his preparation for the White House.  It is an appropriate place for his library albeit very remote for all but a few who will be able to actually visit it.

Teddy Roosevelt is no stranger to ND, plus he is one of the four Presidents memorialized at Mt. Rushmore.

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My Grandpa Bernard spent a year of his life – 1898-99 – in the Philippines in what was called the Spanish-American War.  Grandpa Bernard’s North Dakota Army regiment – Co C 2nd Battalion from Grafton ND was Grandpa’s unit – arrived in Manila almost on the same day as the Spanish surrendered, so most of his and his colleagues year in the Philippines was engaged against the native Filipinos who were happy that the Spanish were vanquished, but simply wanted the Americans to go home.  There have been books written about the following years.  Grandpa was very proud to have served the nation, and Teddy Roosevelt was, I would guess, quite revered by North Dakotans.

Teddy is also on Mt. Rushmore.  For perspective here’s an overhead view of the area, thanks to google maps. https://maps.app.goo.gl/MR7hQJHhRxhwmnEv8.  Of course, I have no information on precisely what the trip itinerary was.  Air Force One came to Bismarck; the President helicoptered to Medora, likely back to Bismarck.  Air Force One flew him to Ellsworth Air Force Base near Rapid City, and another helicopter trip to Mt. Rushmore, then home….

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The trip had a couple of real world memories for me, in addition to having been to the places of interest.

My first memory of Air Force One was about 1954 above Minot ND.  I would have been about 7th grade at the time, and we lived maybe 40 miles from Minot.  President Eisenhower came to town probably to take a look at the brand new construction of Minot Air Force Base, one of the Cold War fortresses to defend the country against the Soviets.  It and other bases had another function, to supervise missile emplacements across the prairie which probably still exist.

Ike’s Air Force One was by no means the monstrosity now in the air.  Here’s Ike’s official aircraft.

On that day I saw Ike in an open motorcade in Minot, I remember watching his plane approaching Minot  from the east.  In those years, seeing passenger aircraft was unusual and this was a particularly unusual occurrence even for a youngster like me.  I am guessing that Eisenhower had also stopped at the other new ND AFB at Grand Forks, but I don’t know that.  It would make sense.

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I have one other memory of a big plane back in the day.

Earlier, sometime between 1947 and 51, I was outside our home in Sykeston ND, and I saw a gigantic airplane approaching from the northeast at a low elevation.  The plane had six engines and was unfathomable to a pre-ten year old literally out in the country.

Over the years, I have come to believe that what I saw was a B36 on a training flight out of Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota.  It didn’t have a long life span since its development came near the era of jet aircraft, but still, what a memory.

POSTNOTE July 10, 2026:  Last evening we watched the documentary about Apollo 11, the July 20, 1969, moon landing accomplishing the declaration of President Kennedy, May 25,1961, to land a man on the moon by the end of the decade.  Mission accomplished.  It was a very well done documentary seen on PBS, and likely will be replayed and otherwise accessible on public television.

A couple of months ago, April 10, 2026, the most recent space adventure was concluded successfully. Here is the account of that flight.

Like millions of others I witnessed the moon-landing of Apollo 11, and the first human footsteps on the moon by Neil Armstrong.  We were returning from a trip to Grand Forks ND on the afternoon of July 20, and pulled over to the side of U.S. Highway 2 as the lunar module landed on the moon.  Late that evening, back home, I watched on a very imperfect TV picture the actual event.  Imperfect or not, it was a great moment.

These events, and many others, highlight the potential and the quandary of progress.  The technology for Apollo 11 was primitive compared to that for Artemis II.  At the same time, it was human beings who cooperated for success, from development of the space vehicle to recovery at the end of mission.  No doubt AI played a role in Artemis, but human decision makers supervised and closely observed every step of the process.

The quandary is about the future use and misuse of technology.  Drones come to mind, as tools of war.  Is it a useful exercise for humanity to look for permanent occupation of Mars, a destination not hospitable for humans?

There are so many questions.

Fred, reflections at our 250th

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Fred, a long-time friend, and retired teacher and active historian, sent me his part of a conversation with a friend since boyhood – they grew up as schoolmates together.  The two men have different points of view and retain close relationship with each other, ‘across the divide’ so to speak.

What I share here, with Fred’s permission, is his point of view at this time in history;

Fred:  “[My friend] sent me a copy of the Democratic Socialist [DS] Party platform. After recent rants by myself, he believes it is inevitable that I’ll become a DSer My response comes first. The DSers have some very interesting ideas.
Happy Fourth!
Thanks for sending along the Democratic Socialist [DS] menu for positive change. As the radical I am, I was particularly taken by their move to throw out the bums at XCel with not a penny in recompense and their creative policing concepts. But your, conflation of the entire Democratic Party with the DS, however is just a bit of a stretch. Kinda like how the terror of Antifa that wreaked havoc around the nation.
Although I have never been a party to any political party, I must admit to voting for Dems most of the time (one GOP senate candidate, one GOP gov, and one Third Party (remember John Anderson? for president were the exceptions).
Democrats produced legislation in the 1930s that rescued my father’s immigrant family from dispossession of their home. The corrupt Harding Admin followed by the feckless Coolidge and Hoover admin, (Tea Pot Dome, Smoot-Hawley tariff, rising stock market speculation etc.) brought on the Great Depression. RW [Red Wing] Potteries closed the Claybank pits where my grandfather worked as a foreman. As I’ve noted in RW histories, the city was teeming with transient young men forced to go on the road to find work. In Jan. 1925 the RW jail housed 34 transients; in Jan. 1930 it was 66; the monthly total reached 443 in March 1931. US officials estimated two million American men “on the road” and on the rails in 1932. My father might have become one of them if not for what the generous GOP termed “make work” programs. You’ve read his account about the CCCs [Civilian Conservation Corp]. 
Still don’t understand your support for Trump. The impeachment “rampage”??????? occurred in the wake of the attack on the capitol by mobs chanting “Hang Mike Pence” and breaking into the Capitol, its offices and the House and Senate. Talk about a rampage! Meanwhile, your Nero fiddled in the WH [White House] watching the action while cries for him to call in the National Guard, including one from his endangered VP [vice-president], went unanswered!!!
Your guy’s herculean efforts to challenge his deserved election defeat in states around the country, continue as the highest of his priorities. In state after state, Red and Blue, courts found NO tampering with the election. Yet anyone in his inner circle knows challenging this fallacy today is out of a job.
Nope, I’m not sure to shift to the Far Left. I experienced a lot of political theater while teaching on St. Paul’s Lower East Side in the 1960s to 2000. The I-94 Corridor brought tens of thousands immigrants from Chicago and its suburbs  and rust belt cities all looking for better lives and better public assistance. In our school alone, we received 104 children from Chicago during one school year (that is more than four classrooms). St. Paul received the first Vietnamese influx (they soon moved to warmer climes), and the nation’s largest number of Hmong students.

Within a few years ESL (English Second Language Learners) students numbered more than 60%; American Indians and Hispanic (many from seasonal worker families) were part of that number. Those kids still were required to take standardized tests that didn’t do much for our school’s grade level scores—most diligently and fruitlessly filled in the circles.  The school’s Poverty Rate, as measured by those receiving free and reduced school lunches (and breakfast), reached 96% (among the highest rates in the nation).
Crime, surprisingly led by [east side] White Biker groups in the 60s and 70s, gave way to Black street gangs. Two ugly incidents are memorable: to punish a snitch living in a duplex across the street from school, a Black gang member heaved a firebomb onto the porch. Five young children died in the blaze; two were from our school. The other was the killing by their deranged mother, of six neighborhood children; one old enough to be in our school. 
That said, the neighborhood’s core blue collar workers and their children, along with the power of Hmong family units, kept the school moving forward. 
Now, for my coupe d’grace re your prediction I will not go hard left Commie on you. Rather, I will tantalize you with a detailed plan to deal with those who gave their lives over to drugs, alcohol, despair (children having children), I had a pregnant 11-year old in my class), 30-year old grandmothers taking over and often, but unfortunately not often enough, running an impoverished and damaged family unit. 
I shared my plan with co-workers, but never put it on paper (could have been grounds for dismissal I believe). It is a humane, cost effective way to lead those in the underclass of addiction to a productive li[f]e and, at the very least, keep them off the streets if they can’t pull it off. You will hear the details on our coming walk. Please don’t “wear a wire” and rat me out to your leaders.
Your boy would actually sign on to it, I’m sure, except there’s little way to grift it. I know you will watch the DL’s speech about American greatness tonight (with perhaps a nod to his). Enjoy!
[nom de plume] James Madison”

I reiterate, the two correspondents are good friends for many years.

Stephanie, and July 4, 2026

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Today promises to be a pleasant day in this area.  Backyard picnic at my daughters place across the river.  Family gathering of perhaps a dozen or so.

Last night watched PBS annual July 4 concert on the lawn of the U.S. Capitol.  It was a flawless celebration of all of us, several thousand in the audience, fireworks from George Washington’s Mt. Vernon.  I remembered the one time I visited Mt. Vernon.  It was early November 2000, and our tour guide was cousin John Garney, retired from a career with US AID.  John died several years ago.  He would be very sad to know that the Agency he represented for many years in many places was first to be eliminated in the purge of 2025.

Enroute home from coffee this morning was listening to an old Bet Midler CD, which includes an all-time favorite song: “From a Distance“.  Give it a listen.

After watching the DC concert I checked my e-mail and had a long message from long-time friend Stephanie about her Uncle’s statement after World War II.  If you have any doubts about sacrifice and patriotism read this statement in its entirety.  The interpretation is up to you.

from Stephanie, July 3, 2026:  Stephanie was a journalist and was for many years a teacher union staff colleague with me.  You can learn more about Irving Strobing by simply searching his name.  Years ago, Stephanie gave me an audio cassette of a radio interview with him. I may still have it.  It was inspiring.

“After my uncle, Sgt. Irving Strobing (US Signal Corps-Army) returned from 3 1/2 years in Japanese prison camps, he was in demand as a speaker. He sent the last message from Corregidor Island as General Jonathan Wainwright was surrendering to the Japanese in May 1942.
I’ve attached a speech he gave about Freedom. I think it’s appropriate for this 4th of July. Use as you see fit.”

Freedom by Irving Strobing (undated)

Freedom, it is written, is every man’s heritage. Unfortunately, too many people are daily being denied their birthright.

We who are fortunate enough to enjoy a relatively large amount of freedom in the United States are often prone to take our inheritance for granted. Too seldom do we realize that this thing we call freedom is a living, vibrant force which must be nurtured by our actions, our labor, and even by our personal sacrifices.

Those of us who have been in circumstances where our freedom, to put it mildly, has been restricted, can more readily appreciate that which once lost, has been regained.

Let me tell you of one man and his desire to be free.

I first met Harry in May 1944, at the Tokyo POW camp #14B, located at Omi, a small village in northwestern Honshu, Japan.

Harry was a corporal in the USAF. I was, at that time, a corporal in the Army Signal Corps. Both of us had served in the Philippines until the surrender of our forces; Harry on Bataan until April, 1942, and I on Corregidor until May 6, 1942. We had spent our first two years of captivity in different camps, so it was not until my arrival at Omi in May 1944 that we finally met.

Our life was a hard one with but one vision to encourage us – the day of our liberation, whenever it might come.

Harry and I worked as a team in the rock quarry, and a back-breaking job it was, especially on a meager ration of rice and soup, and only infrequent traces of meat or fish to relieve the monotony.

The strain of the heavy labor and inadequate diet had its effect on all of us, but Harry seemed to be weakening more rapidly than the rest. Early in 1945, I was transferred to the steel furnaces and Harry, because of his weakened condition, was assigned to the farming detail. This group, composed of the weakest men, tilled the terraced hillside vegetable plots just outside the village.

In March of 1945, Harry became too weak to continue working at any job, and he was finally admitted to what we called our hospital. The doctor found that there was a growth in Harry’s throat and, only two weeks later, the growth made it impossible for Harry to swallow his food. In order for him to take nourishment, we used to grind his rice by hand to a fine powder. This was cooked into a very thin gruel and fed to him through a tube inserted into his side and directly into his stomach.

Harry never complained; however, despite all our efforts he continued to weaken steadily and it seemed, even to the most hopeful of us, that it was a matter of but a few days before Harry’s name would be added to our list of losses.

I spent all the time I could with Harry and we would recount past events of our life at home and tell one another of our dreams and plans for those wonderful days after our liberation.

In July 1945, Harry’s voice was all but lost to him. He could speak only in a low, hoarse whisper, and he was so weak that only a few words would exhaust his meager reserve of strength. His most-oft words were “I know I can’t last much longer but I don’t want to die a prisoner. I want to be free.”

Eash night as I left him there was always the question: Will he last until morning?

On Aug. 16, 1945, the rumor ran through camp – “There was going to be an armistice!” One week later, on Aug. 23, four Navy carrier fighter planes appeared over our camp and we carried Harry outside on a litter, that he might see them for himself. That afternoon he was taken outside again in time to see a flight of B-29s dropping supplies and leaflets to us. The leaflets began “The Japanese government has surrendered. You will be evacuated by the Allied Nations as soon as possible.”

Harry died on the morning of Aug. 24, 1945, a free man. The next morning I was one of a group of six liberated POWs. We were making our way through town, carrying our burden on our shoulders. My thoughts were of Harry, whose determination and willpower brought him through to the day when he was once again free. Soon we came to the outskirts of Omi and turned to enter a building. We climbed the steps of the crematorium and bore into it the body of Harry.

These are hard days for free men for there are still those who would oppress others.

May you never be called upon to make the supreme sacrifice in defense of your freedom. However, the same freedom which grants you those privileges you enjoy here today at the same time imposes certain responsibilities. It directs that not only must your actions and your work contribute to the preservation of your own freedom, but that these efforts must be exerted in an attempt to bring freedom to those less fortunate.

Your freedom requires your participation in the affairs of your government – local, state, and national. It demands a knowledge of conditions – social, economic, and political – and of your neighbors throughout the world. It calls for thought, energy, admiration, action, and sacrifice. It demands of you all these things and more, and requires them not only for a day or a week or a month or even a year. No, it takes much longer than that to meet your obligations in the cause of freedom. For, you see, it is not until the blood no longer flows through your veins, not until you have drawn your last breath, not until your heart is, at last, stilled, then and only then can it be said “You have paid the price of your freedom.”

The Day before 250

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What follows are personal reflections on relationships that built the United States of America.  Included here are a few others who sent some reflections of their own.  Yours will be gladly added if you wish.  The other reflections so far: Jim, Larry, Lois, Nancy, Jane, Brian.  Yours?  See also, Stephanie, and July 4, 2026, and Fred, July 5. and Doug

Directly relevant to this post is one on Canada and the Revolution which I published July 1, here.  It includes some very interesting commentary.

If your interest is in the history of the events immediately prior to Independence Day in 1776, here is Heather Cox Richardson’s description of events at the time.. I strongly suggest subscribing to Dr. Richardson’s daily journal of our nation’s history.

5 1/2x 8 1/2 wall plaque found at the Busch farm in ND, likely predating the admission of Alaska and Hawaii as states (1959).

The 250th Birthday is July 4, 2026.  For me, after thinking a lot about this. tomorrows birthday is specifically for those in their 20s.  As has been true for all of our history, the youngest adult generation is ultimately accountable for the future our nation and our world will see 50 years from now.   This years birthday is by no means like all the rest; what we do has major consequences for those who are beginning their adult lives.

This isn’t ‘passing the buck’, what is ahead matters a great deal.  An exercise for elders: tHow did your road of life matched what you thought might happen?  What would you have done differently if you knew.  Trace your own experience from when you turned 18 (or 21).  it’s acknowledging the reality those of us who are older has experienced ourselves or seen through our elders experiences.

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Following is part of my story as I have learned it over the years.  I gave others an opportunity to share whatever they wished of their own stories.  The first responses lead this post.  How about adding your own even if not on the printed page?  More responses are welcome.

pdf of blank U.S. map: US Map

I am weighing in on history on the last day of 250 years, rather than at the beginning of the next year which begins our future legacy should we be so fortunate as to figure out how to survive this crucial juncture at this point in American history.

There has been much change in the first 250 years.  The original 13 colonies had about 2 1/2 million population in 1775 (including slaves but not native Americans).  The estimate for today is 349 million in the U.S.  Of course, this likely translates into more than a billion humans added over all in the 250 years.

I’ve had the opportunity to look back on history through the lens of the average and ordinary citizen, of which I am one.

In 1980 I was given an assignment to learn about my forebears.  I was in a Family of Origin workshop.  I was 40 and hadn’t been much interested in my roots.  I got hooked, and still am.  My general history is here in two books; much more in the archives of the North Dakota State Historical Society, including hundreds of Photos at the History Center website, and even more in assorted boxes in my garage.  More on the Collette and Bernard family history accessible in Series 29 of the IF Midwest collection at the University of North Dakota Chester Fritz Library.

I’ve learned that family history is an endless river once you dive in….

When I started my project in 1980 I focused on the roots of my four grandparents. (Bernard, Berning, Busch, Collette).  This rapidly exploded, of course.  I had two parents, they both had two parents.  8, 16, 32….  Don’t forget siblings, aunts and uncles….  This is true for everyone.

In the society from which I descend – white European – going back to ancient history the legal footprint defining family was almost always the man, the “breadwinner”, who  “brought home the bacon”.  The woman – mom, homemaker etc – was “the Mrs”, the person who had the children and held the household together and rarely got the glory.  (One of my photos has about 15 women, probably a church group n the 1940s, and on reverse everyone is identified by name as “Mrs, ____”.  Not one is identified with her first name.  I asked an elder who knew the women.  One, also “Mrs”, apparently didn’t have a husband.)

In my family, it seemed more likely that the girls received more school education than the boys.  I think this was more a function of role differences – the male was the person who plowed the ground, and such.  The “woman’s work” was every bit as hard – maybe even harder – but the girls possibly spent more time in school.

Grandpa Busch was apprenticed to a blacksmith, and personally earned three U.S. patents fashioned in his shed workshop.  He apparently went to 6th grade.

Grandpa Bernard, with a first grade education, came to ND as a carpenter and became chief engineer in a flour mill, and was a very active volunteer Fireman in Grafton and he “brought the first fire truck to Grafton, a marked improvement over the horse drawn vehicles of the past.”  (Grafton. Centennial History 1982 p. 79),  He was youngest child in his farm family.   He’d worked in a sawmill, as a miner and as a lumberjack before coming to ND.

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My first French-Canadian ancestor came to Quebec in 1618, and his first known child, Euphrosine Nicolet, was from a union with a Nipising native in what is now Ontario.  Euphrosine was educated in a French school,  married and became part of my family tree perhaps 14 generations back.  So far as I know, she’s my only native ancestor.

My last French-Canadian ancestor came to Quebec about 1757, two years before the British defeated the French at the Plains of Abraham 19 years before the Declaration of Independence.  (The 13 colonies had in mind Quebec as #14, which didn’t work out.)

Clotilde Blondeau and Ocatve Collette, St. Anthony (later Minneapolis) MN 1869.  The earliest family photo I have.

Marguerite Blondeau Guion (undated but before 1832 in St. Louis MO)  (see note at end of post)

Marguerite and Clotilde Blondeau (photos above) had the same Blondeau ancestor, though about 100 years apart in age.  Still they were blood relatives.  (The painting of Marguerite is in the Smithsonian collection, unsure of date.  It is conceivable, though probably not provable, that it was done sometime about the time of the Louisiana Purchase and Lewis and Clark Expedition (1804-06).

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My first German-American ancestor came to the United States in the 1850s to Grant Co, Wisconsin (territory near Dubuque Iowa).  Both paternal great-grandparents came from northwest Germany, near the Netherlands.  Their home communities (near Heiden and Rheine) were perhaps 50 miles apart, but they likely didn’t know of each other until meeting in America.  Most of my German ancestors came to the U.S. in the mid-1860s to early 1870s.  They were rural people.

Ferd and Rosa Busch with Lucina 1907

The Busch farmstead 1907.  From left: Frank Busch, Ferdinand’s brother; Lena Berning, Rosa Busch’s sister, Ferd  Busch (27 years), Wilhelm Busch, Ferd’s father, Rosa Busch (23) with daughter Lucina.

Their offspring, my grandparents Ferd and Rosa, homesteaded in North Dakota in 1905 during a vigorous wave of settlement in “teenage” North Dakota.

Grandpa was very active in the ways that people could be active in those rural communities.  Grandma was, too, without any fanfare.

The above Busch photos may hold an untold story of their own.  Ferd’s sister, Christina, and Rosa’s brother, August, married  and had a farm near to the above home place.  They came about a year after the Busch’s.  The family history notes that Christina and August’s first child, Erwin, died at six months, and this may be the reason for the visit from Wisconsin, and the Busch’s in ‘dress up’ garb.  At this time in history there was no nearby church, and it is unknown where the baby was buried.

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On the other ‘side’ the oldest grandparent, my grandfather Bernard, was born in Quebec in 1872 and came to North Dakota in the 1890s.  His brother preceded him.  Their (thus my) roots go back to the early 1630s in Quebec. The rest of Grandma Bernard’s family (Collette) came to the U.S. starting in the 1860s.  Grandma was born in 1881 in what was then Dakota territory.  ND became a state in 1889.

Josephine Collette (20) and Henry Bernard (29) wedding photo 1901 Oakwood ND.  Henry (Honore) was born in 1872 in Quebec and the oldest ancestor that I actually knew.  He died when I was 17.

Grafton ND ca 1920 Henry and Josephine Bernard and their three children, Henry, Frank and Josie, and visitors from Winnipeg.  Also in picture their 1901 Oldsmobile and Fosto, the family pet.

 

Grandpa Bernard was chief engineer in a flour mill where his brother was chief miller.  He was said to have a first grade education.  His background included life as a lumberjack, a miner, and a carpenter.   He had a knack with machines, and he was well respected in the community.

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All of my parents and their siblings were born at home.  Almost everything we take for granted today were unknown or primitive in their time.  The families were like virtually all families.  One hesitates to make any judgement of the whole or the parts.

Best I can make out, they were basically hard-working and productive citizens.  They survived the punches of WWI, the flu pandemic, the Great Depression, WWII and all the rest. There was lots of military service in the families, both sides.  Many served in the military and civilian service like the Peace Corps.  They were pretty religious, Catholic, and lived in communities where you could survive knowing only the ancestral language.

All of them from my parents generation back are now part of history.  We are left to carry on.

POSTNOTE ABOUT MARGUERITE BLONDEAU GUION: Marguerite was a latecomer to my personal family history, and was not ‘fleshed out’ until 2026 with great thanks to my cousin Remi Roy.

Marguerite Blondeau Guion was reputed to be the first white woman to set foot in what is now known as St. Louis MO in 1764, born about 1740.  She had a direct ancestral connection to my Blondeau roots, beginning with my great grandmother Clotilde Blondeau Collette born 1847.  Their shared ancestor was Lambert Blondeau.

Marguerite’s husband, stone mason Amable Guion, is elsewhere in another branch of my French-Canadian family tree.  He was killed in a battle with the British and Indian allies at St. Louis  in 1780.  At the time St. Louis was Spanish territory.

Around 1800, Napoleon and France took control of the area, and very shortly thereafter sold the huge parcel known as the Louisiana Purchase to the U.S., which later became famous  through the Lewis and Clark expedition, 1804-06.  My stories about Marguerite Blondeau and Amable Guion can be read here and here.

They didn’t realize at the time how they both fit into the complicated history that evolved into present day United States.

No one knows who painted Marguerite Blondeau’s visage, nor when, but it was in St. Louis and likely came about sometime after the Lewis and Clark expedition when it became part of the lore of the new western territory of the United States.

COMMENTS:

from Dick: Jane has updated her comment (link at beginning of post.  I have a new post on July 4, and will continue there.  Link at beginning of this post.

from Jim: Best wishes today, and much hope for the next 250,

from Dick: Thanks Jim.  We’ll see if we’re up to the task ahead.  “We” is a great number of citizens of the U.S.  Don’t give up on us.

from Jim: Well, Dick, if were I inclined to, I would never give up on you folks.

Even the best of neighbours go through bad patches, and Lord knows the “we” up here are not without our flaws! Have a hot dog and celebrate all the good!

Recollections: Jane

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    Families!  Mine was (and still is) the most dysfunctional middle-class family in America!  I dare anyone to match their family’s dysfunction against mine.  Ground rules:  Your family has to be White, middle class, gainfully employed and have at least two kids.
     My parents lived in a two-bedroom house and still managed to not speak to each other for over ten years.  “Tell your father to pass the salt.”  The silent treatment perfected!  How the freak did they even do that?  My sister refused to sign my father’s burial consent unless we gave her all his money — even though she hadn’t spoken to my father for seven years.  No one told me when my sister died.  I had to read her obituary nine months later.
     My family managed to raise middle-class dysfunctionality to a fine art!

Updates from Jane, July 4: (1) Am currently in Baku [Azerbaijan].  Always a good idea to celebrate freedom — and I’m going to celebrate Independence Day by trying to gate-crash the U.S. embassy party in Azerbaijan. Probably only members of the Epstein Class will be invited but worth a try.  If you don’t hear from me in a week…call up Trump?

(2)     Just stopped by the US embassy to attend the July 4 celebration.  “We had it two days ago,” I was told.  And of course you can print anything I write.  Happy Independence Day!  Or not.