#1099 – Dick Bernard – Hawaii, more history with the U.S. than we think….

Previous posts at January 6 and January 11. Other posts will follow.
New Years Eve we were seasoned veterans of the Big Island. It was our 12th day at the Kaawihae Village house…and there was a New Years Eve party, with real Hawaiians there!

New Years Eve 2015 Kawaihae HI

New Years Eve 2015 Kawaihae HI


It was a relief to find that real Hawaiians were just folks, like Cathy and I. We all acted our age; quite a few celebrated New Years when Los Angeles did (two hours earlier) and bid aloha.
Very unusual for me, I stayed up till midnight, the real midnight, but not long after.
2016 was here.
I have a long time interest in geography – it was my major in college. Even so, it is always interesting to match up preconceptions with realities, physical, human, etc. For starters, the island of Hawaii is not flat, like a regular map suggests. Sure, we know the highest mountain in the world is there (if measured from base to top, Mauna Loa is over 30,000 feet), but even above sea level it is just a few hundred feet less than Pike’s Peak, but not a dramatic sight from anywhere within the roughly 30-50 mile radius of the Big Island.
Basically, Mauna Loa and its twin Mauna Kea are the island of Hawaii.
Big Island of Hawaii

Big Island of Hawaii


For some reason, Hawaii feels and even sounds like a foreign country, even though it is every bit as American as anywhere else in the U.S.
A poster at the Army Museum at Waikiki Beach summarized the U.S.-Hawaii history as follows:
At the Army Museum on Waikiki, Honolulu, Dec 19, 2015

At the Army Museum on Waikiki, Honolulu, Dec 19, 2015


Succinctly, Hawaii has been in the U.S. sphere for many years.
118 years ago, in the early summer of 1898, my grandfather Bernard and his fellow soldiers likely arrived at what is now Hickam Field at Pearl Harbor as their ship likely refueled enroute to Manila and the Spanish-American War [see end note]. They were there before Hawaii was formally annexed by the U.S.
This happened a few months after their miserable troop ship steamed out of Pearl Harbor. And that was quite a long time ago. A sketch history of Hawaii is here.
Henry Bernard, upper left, at Presidio San Francisco, Summer 1898; his future wife's cousin, Alfred Collette, is at lower right.

Henry Bernard, upper left, at Presidio San Francisco, Summer 1898; his future wife’s cousin, Alfred Collette, is at lower right.


Sadly, 43 years later, Grandpa’s youngest son, Frank, went down with the Arizona at Pearl Harbor….
At the gathering on Dec. 31 were many nice people, including an announced candidate for the Hawaii State Senate, by all appearances a very capable guy.
He and his family were neat people: his district would be fortunate to have him again as their Senator.
But that is ahead.
Back home I got to thinking about a photo I’ve long had, which I hadn’t paid much attention to.
Josie (Bernard) Whittaker and group at Hilo HI May 2, 1969

Josie (Bernard) Whittaker and group at Hilo HI May 2, 1969


That’s my Aunt Josie, Grandpa and Grandma’s daughter, and Dad and his brother Frank’s sister….
She’d beat me to Hilo 47 years ago.
Josie was part of the Los Angeles deaf community, and my guess is that everyone in the photograph was deaf, part of a tour group to Hawaii.
Aloha. Mahalo.
End Note: In a rather quick review of the literature on the internet, I don’t find any specific information about the troop ships going from Presidio San Francisco to Manila in 1898, except that the trip was well over a month in duration; and I had previously heard that they stopped at Honolulu enroute. Folks I talked with in Honolulu were short of specifics, though one man at the Army Museum was sure that the fueling station would have been where Hickam Field now is. A research task for another time.
[contact-form to=’dick_bernard@msn.com’][contact-field label=’Name’ type=’name’ required=’1’/][contact-field label=’Email’ type=’email’ required=’1’/][contact-field label=’Website’ type=’url’/][contact-field label=’Comment’ type=’textarea’ required=’1’/][/contact-form]

#1098 – Dick Bernard: Martin Luther King Day

Today is Martin Luther King Day (his birthday January 15, 1929, death April 4, 1968.) The Minneapolis Star Tribune headlines, at page two, “MLK Day to feature conflict and celebration”.
We Americans love conflict, winners, celebration….
It would be interesting to hear Dr. King himself report on this day, in 2016. He’s no longer with us. As I opined earlier, on a great Christmas homily I heard in Hawaii Dec. 25, we need to “get to work, actively, in our own spaces and places to make our community, our world, a better place for everyone”.
Personally, I think Dr. King would be encouraged by the slow but inexorable progress made since his life so tragically and prematurely ended in 1968. But that’s just my personal opinion.
My philosophy has been shaped by many years of experience, where incremental change, often very slow, sometimes going backwards, was a daily reality. If one could stick with it, be persistent, and looked at change over five years, or ten, or more, there was, really, great progress. As I suggested, Jan. 6, “…its best that we nudge ourselves off of our sense of hopelessness or dependence on whatever it is that holds us back…We are, each of us, responsible….”
Yesterday, President Obama, our first African-American President, spoke of the latest accomplishment in improvement of Iran-American relationships. To me, that is a very big deal (albeit very frightening for those whose narrative is the need for endless conflict, mistrust and suspicion).
So it goes with the merchants of doom, for whom only complete dominance of some enemy will keep us safe (an “enemy” being essential to keeping us in line). Negotiations, unless a total “win”, is a sign of weakness, they say.
The argument of negotiations versus war can continue without me.
For this particular day I’ll provide a link to Dr. King’s famous 1967 speech about the Vietnam War, then in its ascendancy. Perhaps there is something to learn about today, there.
Finally, this from my friend Madeline, today, which is appropriate as well:
MLK and Realistic Radicalism
Rev. David Breeden, Senior Minister
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Nowadays Martin Luther King, Jr., day is a national holiday. Once, MLK was “the most hated man in America.” Is the sea-change because his ideas have been accepted by mainstream America or because he is safely dead?
podcast/assembly-mlk-and-realistic-radicalism/
Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals has been used by many groups, including civil rights movement, tea party, occupy movements, black lives matters, and perhaps by the current Republican candidates. Rules_for_Radicals*
Large numbers of whites think that black lives matters tactics are inappropriate/counterproductive; blacks think they are necessary. It’s an example of “white privilege.” Whites don’t think they have to be disruptive to change things; while blacks know they need to.
Peace,
Madeline
* – Dick Bernard: Alinsky was a very important part of my training when I became a teacher union representative in 1972. The podcast linked above is excellent listening. Alinsky’s constituents were the powerless in Chicago, people like the folks who cleaned toilets in airports. Alinsky was essential training as teachers moved from being powerless to having some share in decision making power. It was a very uncomfortable transition for both sides, teachers and school boards, and we both made mistakes, sometimes serious, but progress happened, and continues to happen, where people learned to work together. Both sides benefited, and continue to benefit.
Ironically, at the beginning of my career, my organization was subjected to Alinsky’s tactics by a competing organization: it made us very uncomfortable. It took a while for us to effectively counter them. They work.
During the ascendancy of the Newt Gingrich years, especially, I saw abundant evidence that the radical right had learned and applied aggressively the same rules for radicals. It still does….
POSTNOTE February 4, 2016: Further Reflections on Saul Alinsky by Dick Bernard
It should have been obvious to me, but wasn’t, that most people, even political types, were only vaguely aware, if aware at all, of Saul Alinsky.
Perhaps the following might be helpful to supplement the excellent sermon linked above:
I became a full-time teacher union organizer in March, 1972. It was an emergency appointment, for six months, in one of Minnesota’s largest school districts, Anoka-Hennepin, in northwest suburban Minneapolis. A few months earlier Minnesota teachers had been given the statutory right to collectively bargain with their employer. 1972-73 was to be our very first contract which included a grievance procedure ending in arbitration. It was a heady, very nervous time. We were all learning as we went along.
In the early fall I went to a training at the National Education Association in Washington D.C. which included an introduction to the tactics of someone named Saul Alinsky, who I’d never heard of before. (His principles – the ones I and others learned – are in the previously referenced link, above). It wasn’t until years later that I learned that the famous Alinsky had died just three months after I began my staff career, which ultimately spanned 27 years.
We were taught the tactics because, at the time, teachers had little power when it came to negotiations. Yes, bigger districts did enter into negotiations of a sort, and there was some kind of grievance procedure, but in the end, all the ultimate power was invested in the school board and its administration. As suggested above, it was a heady but uncertain time. We had to learn what to do with power; management had to learn how to share a little of its power. It wasn’t always easy.
We had another complicating factor: at the time, there were two competing teacher unions in Minnesota: the Education Association (mine), and the Federation of Teachers (AFL-CIO).
The Federation had learned the same tactics we had, but because we were by far the largest union in the school district, we became a target of the Federation. We, not the school district, were in the Federations “bullseye”. And in this new arena, we were an obvious, and juicy, and vulnerable target for a takeover through a bargaining election.
We “dodged the bullet” the first time around: neither side was yet up to speed about this competing union business. We made mistakes; so did the Federation….
The second time around, in the spring of 1974, the Federation got sufficient cards to call for an election, and went on campaign against us with the election scheduled, if I recall correctly, for the month of April. They were “Alinsky’ing” us to our ultimate death – they figured. And we were nervous too.
But at some point we frantic folks in the bullseye took a timeout.
I can remember when it happened; I cannot recall under what circumstances we changed course. I think it was local thinking, not anything else.
We had just been bombarded with another bunch of paper (no e-mails or such in those days), and someone, and then collectively, came to the realization that we were, after all, the union to which most of the teachers belonged, and that had to mean something.
At that moment we made a crucial decision, to stop being defensive, and to go on the offensive.
Everything changed. The election came, and we won approximately 60-40%. This was 1974, and was the last serious challenge the local ever faced.
This was no act of genius; really it was an act of near desperation. And we were fed up with being attacked for doing the best we could under difficult circumstances.
I think of this turnaround often when I see Alinsky tactics being the crucial organizing tactics of the Tea Party and the earlier Newt Gingrich revolution. It is a good time to relearn the old lesson I learned in the spring of 1974.
I note that I previously have written about Saul Alinsky on this page. If you wish, look here.

#1096 – Dick Bernard: Thoughts About The Big Island of Hawaii

Today it is below zero here at home in Minnesota. One week ago today we left “on a jet plane” from Kailua-Kona airport on Hawaii, largest island of our nation’s 50th state. It had been in the 80s all day…. My first post about our trip is here.

Presidents plane at Hilo Airport Dec. 22, 2015 (see note at end of post)

Presidents plane at Hilo Airport Dec. 22, 2015 (see note at end of post)


Dec 20 – Jan 4 2016 we were on the Big Island of Hawaii, our first such visit. My Dad, long before the word “blog” entered the vocabulary, used to say he traveled by looking at the pages of National Geographic.
Perhaps one or two or more readers will get some ideas about the wonderful Big Island from the following, and take it from there, through the Geographic or some other source.
(click to enlarge all photos)
Big Island of Hawaii

Big Island of Hawaii


The above map helps give context to the Big Island.
We stayed at my cousin Georgine’s rental property at Kawaihae Village, (the dot you see on the northwest (dry) side).
(If you’re planning a visit, consider staying at her place, link here.) Between us and the Kona airport (the other dot on the map) was 34 miles of excellent road. In between were several ‘gold coast’ resorts. Georgine’s home offers a great view of the west coast and the ocean, and all-around pleasant environment.
Hawaii owes its existence to volcanoes, past and present (see the brown areas on the map for more recent lava flows).
Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa dominate the island, with the “saddle road” in between. During our visit I circumnavigated the island, including saddle road, and travel by car was often relatively slow, but generally easy. (In Hawaii, unless you persist in staying on the coast, you’re either going up, or going down.)
I worried about the roads, with, it turned out, no basis at all.
A guide at Kilauea said the island, 4,000 or so square miles, is a bit smaller than Connecticut, and has only 190,000 population (Minnesota has about 87,000 square miles and 5.5 million population.) An islander we met said the island is more or less equally divided into five ethnic groups, one of which is Hawaiian; another, which one guide pronounced “howlers”, (not spelled that way) is more recent imports, non-Hawaii natives in any sense.
Hawaii hosts 11 of 13 climate types, I was told. Where we were was arid but pleasant grassland. Twenty miles away or less would be tropical vegetation groups. I think we experienced most of the climate types one time or another in our two weeks. Unless you elect to be chained to a resort, take warm clothes for excursions in higher country (Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea are Rocky Mountain elevations).
Walking distance from our house at Kwaihae was a very interesting ancient Hawaii historic site, Pu’ukohola Heiau. The text of the site brochure can be read here: Pu’ukohola Heiau001
There is a quiet, but not benign, tension remaining from the days of traditional Hawaii to the days of colonial empire (ca 1700s forward) to the present day.
An apparent standoff between protestors against the installation of a new observatory on the sacred mountain of Mauna Kea had closed the visitor center (which had the bathrooms).
There are lots of observatories and etc. already atop Mauna Kea. Enough was enough, apparently. As always, the issue depends on the perspective of the reporter….
Attempts at conversation to learn a true history of this paradise were unproductive. Whose version of “history” is true? This is always a legitimate question.
A tour guide in Honolulu suggested that a native collaborative culture had been replaced by a competitive one, without going into details….
Among other evidence of colonial actions (uncluding of course our own) the Hawaii flag features the English Union Jack instead of stars.
On arrival home, my cousin sent this link to a recent long article in a Business publication about current Native Hawaiian issues. It is worth a read, particularly for those with an interest in issues of native peoples, anywhere. Indigenous people may have been defeated in sundry ways, but they have not been beaten.
Much of the pristine appearing mountain area is not safe for people, in part because of unexploded old ammunition. The reason is that a significant section below Mauna Kea is a military reservation, Pohakuloa, and the empty areas of the island were long used for bombing and artillery training.
Waimea, a short drive from our vacation home, was used as a military training post following Tarawa beachhead in WWII.
We stopped at an information spot below Mauna Kea, and behind me was a carefully made protest sign made by someone about Pohakuloa. You can see it below.
Pohakuloa001
My sister and her husband and myself took the drive to Kilauea Volcano on Jan. 3. The drive of about 90 miles was less than three easy hours from Kailua-Kona.
I had visions of an angry Kilauea before the trip. It is definitely active but was docile during our visit (the photo shows only part of the immense caldera, several miles across).
There is a brand new book about the scientist who made the volcano his life work, and for whom the visitor center at Kilauea is named. The book was reviewed in the Honololu Star Advertiser on Dec. 20. You can read the review here: Kilauea:Jaggar001
Kilauea Jan 3, 2016

Kilauea Jan 3, 2016


Earlier in the week, grandson Ryan and I went on a doors-off helicopter ride over the Kilauea area. Georgine’s stepson Ryan Moeller was the excellent pilot (below)
Ryan and Dick on return from Kilauea area, Dec. 22, 2015.  Pilot Ryan Moeller expertly did the flying.

Ryan and Dick on return from Kilauea area, Dec. 22, 2015. Pilot Ryan Moeller expertly did the flying.


POSTNOTE: The photo that leads this post is the back up Air Force One, which we saw parked at Hilo airport on Dec. 22. President Obama and family were on vacation on Oahu, and it is apparently standard procedure to have an identical backup plane for the President when traveling. I took the photo from the helicopter as we were about to land.

#1094 – Dick Bernard: A Homily to begin a New Year

See also Jan 11 and Jan 20, 2016
My Christmas message here, Dec. 17, 2015.
Aloha.
We just returned from nineteen days in Hawaii, most of which time was a wonderful visit with my cousin, Georgine, and her circle, as well as the use of her home on the Big Island of Hawaii.
Mahalo!
Only one previous time, in 1985, did I visit Hawaii. Certainly I’m no expert on our 50th state. Still, there are many learnings, simply from observing. In later posts, I’ll share more observations about the Hawaii I saw the past 19 days. This initial post focuses on events part of three of those days.
We are home bodies. Christmas and New Years this year was far away from home. One becomes aware of customs and traditions, similarities and differences, inclusion and, yes, exclusion.
December 23 was not a particularly good day, and in mid-afternoon in a McDonalds restaurant in a Kailua-Kona Walmart, I had the good fortune of passing about an hour of time listening to a concert of community elders sitting across from me (picture below, click to enlarge). They were simply folks, singing in English, and in Hawaiian, tunes familiar, and unfamiliar. At most, there were about nine in number. It was a very pleasant time, and they seemed pleased there was an audience.

Singers in McD's in Kailua-Kona Hawaii, Dec. 23, 2015

Singers in McD’s in Kailua-Kona Hawaii, Dec. 23, 2015


Earlier, the Honolulu Star-Advertiser Dec. 20 edition featured an essay by Minnesota home-boy Garrison Keillor on Christmas. Neat: GK Honolulu Star-Adv001.
But the high-lite for me was the Christmas Day homily of Fr. Stephen at Annunciation Church in Waimea (called Kamuela by the post office, as there are six Waimea’s in the islands.)
One doesn’t have to be Catholic or even Christian to know the basics of the Christmas story: Jesus was conceived and born, and on goes the story.
I happened to be sitting in a pew directly in front of a doll, the infant Jesus, which, ironically, was directly in my sight-line to the crucifix on the wall behind the altar.
Fr. Stephen had a very simple Christmas message which I interpreted like this: Jesus was born, and then he died, and then he was resurrected…the basic elements of the story we all know.
But in a most gentle way this teacher seemed to nudge my thinking in a new way. Surely, Jesus went away, leaving his disciples behind, those folks who had become dependent on him doing miracles and such. There they were, stuck with continuing the hard work Jesus had begun.
In a sense, perhaps, we were being reminded by our homilist that we need to learn that we are the ones who “must be”, as Gandhi so famously said, “the change we wish to see in the world”. We cannot delegate our responsibility to someone else. At least that is how I heard the message.
I started to see the Christmas message a bit differently than I had always seen it. If those apostles of Jesus were a bit slow on the uptake, so long as he was on the scene, so are we, and its best that we nudge ourselves off of our sense of hopelessness or dependence on whatever it is that holds us back, and get to work, actively, in our own spaces and places to make our community, our world, a better place for everyone. It’s not enough to blame the President, or the Republicans, or whomever. We are, each of us, responsible….
With our involvement the world can indeed become a better place.
At the end of Mass December 25, the excellent community choir sang the Hawaiian Christmas song – you’ve all heard it: here’s Bing Crosby’s rendition.
Mahalo, everyone at Annunciation in Waimea, Big Island, Hawaii.
Fr. Macedo, Dec 25, 2015

Fr. Macedo, Dec 25, 2015


Annunciation Choir 12 25 2015

Annunciation Choir 12 25 2015


A PS: A couple of days later I was back in the same Church, again listening to the same choir, and the same pastor. It was Holy Family Sunday. The message this time was about the tough time this Biblical family had for some years after Jesus was born. As Christians know, Herod was not especially happy at this new child. The family was not welcome. They became “Illegal Immigrants” for a considerable time
After church, myself, this stranger, this short term “migrant” in Waimea, was welcomed to participate in the after Mass hospitality.
Migrants are not a pleasant topic these days.
Back home, going through mountains of mail was a Refugee Facts001. Might be a good fact sheet to look at as this New Year begins.
Aloha.

#1092 – Dick Bernard: The Paris Climate Talks Conclude…and Continue, and Begin….

My summary: We demand leadership from the top (someone else); and thoughtful leaders who value consensus building amidst differences are crucial.
But we really need to expect leadership from ourselves. As Margaret Mead famously said: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world, indeed it is the only thing that ever has.”

Each of us have our own “small group of thoughtful, committed citizens.” And we can “change the world”, for better, worse, or not at all.
(click all photos to enlarge them)

Christine Loys at left with Fabián Antúnez Camacho comunidad Yanesha de Tsachopena en Perú

Christine Loys at left with Fabián Antúnez Camacho
comunidad Yanesha de Tsachopena en Perú


Overnite Saturday came an e-mail from my friend, Christine Loys, who has been a volunteer interpreter at the Paris Climate talks (photo above). She had written to J. Drake Hamilton, of Fresh Energy, who has been in Paris for all of the talks.
The two women had met by e-mail because of their respective roles at the talks. “I am so relieved that an agreement was reached” Christine said. “When I say “all is done”, I mean the negotiations because we all know that it is only a new area starting after that agreement!!!”
An e-mail immediately prior to the above came from friend Maria, in New Jersey, very simple: “!!!!!!“.
Maria included a link to a network she belongs to, accessible here.
What impressed me the most about these talks was that every single world nation – over 190 – has now mutually endorsed the same essential piece of a proposed climate change solution.
There were no dissenters.
None.
The negotiations in Paris accomplished something most groups have trouble doing, even within the tiniest “birds of a feather” groups. Negotiations, by definition, require compromise and good faith; individual demands subordinate to group consensus, however imperfect. “What can we agree on?”
Even more important, concluded negotiations are commitments to action. They connote relationships.
Of course, those opposed, and those in favor, of the result of this negotiations are already saying “too much”, “too little”…. This is always a given after any negotiations. Still, though, every world nation has signed on. The trick is to continue working towards common ground, rather than getting stuck in one or another absolute demand. I think a critical mass now exists to accomplish important things for the world’s future.
In my mind at this significant time is a quote shared by my friend, Jim Nelson, a climate activist, one of whose early mentors was business executive and UN advocate York Langton. “I always remember York Langton’s compelling United Nations invocation: “When the People lead, Leaders will follow.” Jim and his associates chose to pass on going to Paris, figuring they could do their best work at home. (Photo at end of this post.)
The way to success is to build on this success in Paris (which, lest we forget, was thought to be threatened with cancellation due to the events of Nov. 13 in Paris) is indeed back here at home, citizen by citizen, action by action.
March on. Build. We are the solution.
Rather than carping about what isn’t, best for advocates to celebrate what is, and to build upon this huge success.
J. Drake Hamilton will soon be back in Minnesota, back to work. On Thursday evening January 21, 2016, she will speak at Plymouth Congregational Church in Minneapolis for Citizens for Global Solutions MN “Third Thursday”, (Jackman Room, 6:45 p.m.) Put this on your calendar. You’ll be glad you did.

There are many credible advocates dealing with the issue of Climate Change. Find one and get actively involved.
Donna Krisch, Basilica of St. Mary, Minneapolis, has volunteered to lead a group dedicated to protection of the environment; in this case, implementing a recycling program for their very large church.  Photo, May, 2015.

Donna Krisch, Basilica of St. Mary, Minneapolis, has volunteered to lead a group dedicated to protection of the environment; in this case, implementing a recycling program for their very large church. Photo, May, 2015.


Donna, above, is one of millions of critical links for progress on any initiative. She’s a local leader, dealing with the disappointments and frustrations that often accompany local initiatives. She represents us all, a heroic example working for the small changes that are required to make big adaptations.
President Barack Obama greets attendees in the Blue Room before he delivers remarks on the Clean Power Plan in the East Room of the White House, Aug. 3, 2015.  J. Drake Hamilton at right. Photo used with permission. (Official White House Photo by Pete Souza) This photograph is provided by THE WHITE HOUSE as a courtesy and may be printed by the subject(s) in the photograph for personal use only.

President Barack Obama greets attendees in the Blue Room before he delivers remarks on the Clean Power Plan in the East Room of the White House, Aug. 3, 2015. J. Drake Hamilton at right.
Photo used with permission. (Official White House Photo by Pete Souza)
This photograph is provided by THE WHITE HOUSE as a courtesy and may be printed by the subject(s) in the photograph for personal use only.


Ms Drake-Hamilton was among many representatives of organizations at this major meeting in Washington D.C.
Jim Nelson and York Langton, Minneapolis, in the 1960s.  Mr. Langton, a business executive, had for many years been a leader for cooperation among the world's nations.  Mr. Nelson had become very active in groups like the World Federalists.

Jim Nelson and York Langton, Minneapolis, in the 1960s. Mr. Langton, a business executive, had for many years been a leader for cooperation among the world’s nations. Mr. Nelson had become very active in groups like the World Federalists.

#1091 – Jerome Meyer* and Dick Bernard: At Christmas Season 2015. The Old Red Barn; and The Cottonwood Tree

As 2015 ends, all best wishes for peace and kindness embracing everyone, everywhere. As sung so movingly at Pope Francis’ visit to the Twin Towers Memorial in NYC some months ago, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.”
Here are two stories to help bring perspective as 2015 comes towards an end.
Pictured, the old Ferd and Rosa Busch barn between Berlin and Grand Rapids ND, built about 1915; unused since 1997. (Photos by Tom Maloney on May 24, 2015.) The Cottonwood tree (link at the end of this post) remains, about a half mile east of the old barn.
(click on any photo to enlarge it)

The Busch barn, rural Berlin/Grand Rapids/LaMoure ND May, 2015, by Tom Maloney

The Busch barn, rural Berlin/Grand Rapids/LaMoure ND May, 2015, by Tom Maloney


The Busch barn, rural Berlin/Grand Rapids/LaMoure ND, May 24, 2015, by Tom Maloney

The Busch barn, rural Berlin/Grand Rapids/LaMoure ND, May 24, 2015, by Tom Maloney


Psst! Hey you. Yeah, I mean you.
It’s me speaking. The old red barn. I’m guessing very few of you have ever seen me because I’m tucked away on an old abandoned farm acreage near a seldom used township road a few miles from the main hiway and somewhat hidden by a large grove of trees.
So, why am I talking to you?
Well, I just heard from a reliable source that I will be torn down, smashed and buried in a big hole and finally covered up by the Mother Earth I was built on. I’m sure my demise will not show up in the death notice column in the local paper; and there probably won’t be an obituary.
So before I’m no longer around I would like to say a few things to you.
I probably have had three or four farm owners in my life time. And sad to say the current owner no longer has any use for me, I’m so obsolete. I knew my time on Earth was getting short, as so many of my barn friends have disappeared from the local landscape.
For most of my life I could see up to 10 barns over the horizon. Now I can only see one across the barren field and that one has it’s days numbered too. I’ m sure my current owner needs a little more land for a larger farm profit.
I probably was built in the late 1930’s. I’m too old now to remember the exact year. This makes me well into my 90’s.
I’ve seen many good productive farm years and a few bad ones and years when the owners struggled just to exist and make bank payments. Some how we all survived. I’ve felt summer temperatures of more than 100 degrees and winter temperatures of 20 degrees below zero with very strong winds.
I’m still standing. Very few metal nails were used when I was built from local timber because most of my wood frame was held together by wooden pegs.
Boy, was I a beautiful sight when I was built. I thought I was a castle. For awhile I was the best looking barn in the township with a bright coat of red paint, white trim, a shiny roof, four tall lightning rods, and a big weather vane on top of a large dome shaped cupola.
I had new pulleys and a long trolley under the roof to hoist the bales up in the hay loft from the wagons.
In the early days, similar to all my fellow barns, I was the farm building with the most activity. I was used seven days a week 365 days per year. I provided shelter and a home for 12 cows that were milked twice per day. The mornings were started early as the farmer milked at 5 am in the morning, then came back at 5 pm for the evening milking.
There were always a few calves in the pens, sometimes a few pigs, and in the early days, four work horses that were used for field work before modern tractors took over.
There were always about a dozen cats that called me home. They couldn’t wait until the milking started because they always got a good supply of fresh, warm milk. I also had a large storage area in the hayloft where bales were stored for the milk cows to eat and straw for their bedding.
I even got electricity sometime in the early 1940’s. Then, the old kerosene lanterns were only used when electricity went out during storms.
I still can hear the faint sounds of laughter of the children playing games and swinging on the ropes hanging from my wooden beams. Believe it or not, I even had a barn dance when one of the farmer’s daughters got married.
Sometimes people made fun of my name by asking “were you born in the barn?” if you left the door open in the house and the cold air came in. Or if your fly was down on your trousers, people would say “your barn door is down”.
What glorious memories I hold onto. I’m now old, tired and spent. My wood frame is bending, my foundation is crumbling, and I’m about to fall over. The cold North winter winds continue to shake my whole body.
However, I have no regrets, I have served my owners well, and I’m proud of it. I haven’t been used in the last 20 years. My roof now is battered and has a big hole in it, so I sometimes get wet inside when it rains and when the snow blows in.
My once bright red paint now is faded, most of my windows are broken, my wood frame is leaning, the lightning rods are broken off and my weather vane is rusted in one position.
The original farmyard light no longer is on electricity and has been disconnected for many years. The only light I have now is nature’s sun and an occasional bright moon.
I still have a few feathered friends visiting me and a couple of cats that seek shelter. I wonder where they will go when I am gone.
So, I guess this is the last time you will hear from me. The few area farmers I still have around me probably will give me only a quick glance and then go on with their daily work when the big rigs arrive to take me down, bury me and cover me up.
I can’t complain though, because I have had a good, productive life. Hopefully there will be a few people who will remember me. But that soon will pass as new generations farm. My only regret is I will have no marker where I will be buried, and no one will ever visit my grave site. But I guess that’s okay – I was just an old barn.
Summer corn fields will now hover over me, and winter ice and snow will cover me.
Well, I’ve got to go now because I see the sun is setting in the West, and the end of the day for me has come.
By Jerome Meyer of Albert Lea Minn.
Our generation was lucky to have lived and enjoyed these things.
It’s sad the next generations will not have these memories.

The Busch Barn, the morning after the roof blew off, late July, 1949

The Busch Barn, the morning after the roof blew off, late July, 1949


F. W. Busch farmstead, with brand new barn, 1916.

F. W. Busch farmstead, with brand new barn, 1916.


The original barn at right, circa 1907.  This first barn was just to the north of the second barn.     Busch farm harvest time 1907.  Rosa Busch holds her daughter Lucina, Others in photo include Ferd, behind the grain shock; Rosa's sister, Lena, and Ferds father Wilhelm, and young brother William Busch.  It is unknown who was unloading the grain in background.  Possibly, it was Ferds brother, Leonard, who also farmed for a time in ND.

The original barn at right, circa 1907. This first barn was just to the north of the second barn.
Busch farm harvest time 1907. Rosa Busch holds her daughter Lucina, Others in photo include Ferd, behind the grain shock; Rosa’s sister, Lena, and Ferds father Wilhelm, and young brother William Busch. It is unknown who was unloading the grain in background. Possibly, it was Ferds brother, Leonard, who also farmed for a time in ND.


ABOUT ANOTHER FARM VETERAN: an essay I wrote about a Cottonwood tree on the same Busch farm, here.
* – The cast of characters for the stories, above:
Someone named Jerome Meyer apparently wrote the story about a barn near Albert Lea MN, which is above. As yet, I have been I unable to verify, or get permission from, the author, or know when the article was written, but his story, from my own childhood experience, rings so very true. It came to me as an e-mail, forwarded by a long-time good friend. My thanks, and if necessary, apology, to the real author of the Old Barn.
All blessings to everyone, everywhere.
COMMENT:
from Madeline, Dec. 12: While I was in Sweden, I learned why barns are traditionally red. Scandinavians brought the concept with them to the US: link here.
from Christina: I so enjoyed the piece about the old barn. It brought tears to my eyes. I forwarded it to my brothers and sisters and my kids. My youngest son bought my folks’ farmstead about two years ago. It’s a different house but still the same old barn. One of my brothers said he thought it would be OK to tear that barn down. I think he just wanted to tell us if we want to tear it down it would be OK. When I forwarded this piece I said I hoped [my son] would let the barn die and fall on its own. My Dad’s name is still written on the milk separator door. The barn has so many memories. Thank you for sending it. I copied the piece so I could keep it.
A Blessed Christmas to you and your family.
from Norm: Like all oldies, even the barn has added a few years: [from the post] “I probably was built in the late 1930’s. I’m too old now to remember the exact year. This makes me well into my 90’s.” We like hearing, “Wow! You don’t look a day over 75.” Wonderful piece Dick and makes me want to do something similar for some of the memories around.
from Larry: Having grown up on a farm, I, too,have have memories of our old barn. I was about 4 when our barn was brought across Bald Hill Creek (which ran through our farm) from somewhere south of us. Playing in the hay mow, milking cows since I was about 7, turning the cream separator before we got electricity in 1947 or ’48. Our old barn “died” when I was a grown man, and my mom had it buried. Now the old house is gone, too, so it is too difficult to visit my old home.
from Jerry: I enjoyed the story of the red barn. I have watched many barns end their life too, including one on the farm where I grew up. As a kid, some of those barns seem enormous and stately.
from Norm: A great observation from the old red barn!
We had two similar barns on our farm, one of which is still standing albeit eight feet lower than it was when originally built on an adjacent farm that my Dad bought many years ago. The thing was toppled by the wind before it could be anchored down on its new foundation and had to be jacked up, that is, primarily the roof, with new sides put in place and some roof damage repaired before it could be used again.
I am sure that it has lots of stories to tell as well and I will have to seek them out the next time I am at the farm that is now owned by one of my brothers and myself.
The other barn was knocked down and buried many years ago just as apparently is the fate of the red barn whose story you shared with us.
Ah yes, lots of good memories, Dick, of growing up on a modest farm (by Iowa or North Dakota standards) albeit with lots of hard work and toil often for very modest returns. On the other hand, we raised our own beef and chickens so we never starved and, of course, never thought that we were poor or whatever.
from Jane: Thanks, Dick. We have an old barn here on our farm, built into our hillside in 1901. Luckily it has had a metal roof for about the last 50 years, so it is doing pretty well. We saved it from pushing out and down the hill about 20 years ago. Our barn was built by Ole and Lena Waage, so we have Ole and Lena’s barn! We’d love to renovate it, if Santa leaves the where-with-all!

#1090 – Dick Bernard: Muslims

Seek First to Understand, Then To Be Understood; Stephen Covey, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.

A mosque and cemetery on the North Dakota prairie, July 28, 2007

A mosque and cemetery on the North Dakota prairie, July 28, 2007


(click on photos to enlarge them)
A place of Peace, the Ross Mosque, July 28, 2007

A place of Peace, the Ross Mosque, July 28, 2007


My growing up was in the tiniest of communities in various parts of North Dakota. The population density of ND, then, was roughly ten persons per square mile. Today it is really not much different.
We lived in eight different places in my first eighteen years, twice, literally, in the country. Five of those eighteen years, our closest neighbors were farmers. Sometimes the towns were mostly Catholic (my “brand”), sometimes mostly Lutheran, with a few other Protestants tossed in. If there were atheists (and there were atheists, I’m certain), they kept quiet….
There was almost no cultural diversity of any kind worth noting in those small towns of my youth.
Then there was 1953-54, my eighth grade year, in the “blink of an eye” town of Ross where I met the only childhood friend I still keep up with regularly, 62 years later.
I knew him as Emmett, a farm kid; the official records record his first name as Mohammed. I am forever grateful that he and I met, and have stayed in contact ever since. He was and is a great gift to me.
The rest of this part of the story is here, from Sep 5, 2010.
For those who are all stirred up about Muslims these days, but really have never actually known a Muslim, I’d recommend this, my own, story about a Muslim kid and his farm family and kinfolk in my tiny North Dakota town.
Many years have passed by since 1953-54.
I have known many Muslims in many contexts over the years.
Just last year I spent a couple of months with Ehtasham and Suhail, from Pakistan, whose project was to film Americans who professed peace.
Ehtasham interviewing Native American author and Vietnam War veteran Jim Northrup, Memorial Day, 2014, Vets for Peace gathering.

Ehtasham interviewing Native American author and Vietnam War veteran Jim Northrup, Memorial Day, 2014, Vets for Peace gathering.


(Ehtasham Anwars Facebook page includes two video summaries of his interviews of 10 Minnesota Peacemakers. Take a look. Scroll down right hand side.)
Sometimes I see amusing things, like the time, in my town, when I saw a tall Catholic Nun in the traditional black habit, coming out of the local FedEx. She brought back old Catholic school boy memories for me. She was out of place, that’s for sure. Then the person opened the car door and when she turned I saw that she had her face covered, in full hijab.
The only generalization I can make about Muslims is that they are just good people, like anyone else.
Occasionally, certainly, a rotten apple can be found in the barrel of life – it is no work of genius to find an example.
But we Christians, and those who are Jews, don’t have to look very hard to find our own very bad examples. Start with supposed “leaders” who gin up fear and resentment of some “other” for political advantage.
But at its essence, all of us, all of humanity – share common roots; and we are generally good people.
Take the time to really appreciate others you may not know, and appreciate their own customs and traditions which are very rich.
There are many positive websites. Here’s one to begin with: Islamic Resource Group. Another is Unity Productions Foundation.
Ruhel and Lynn, Dec. 2, 2015, Bloomington MN

Ruhel and Lynn, Dec. 2, 2015, Bloomington MN


When we went to visit our friend, Lynn Elling, in the Nursing Home, Ruhel Islam of Gandhi Mahal Restaurant in Minneapolis brought along soup and bread from the restaurant, and helped feed Lynn. It was a very tender time.
It will always stay in my mind that at the very time Ruhel was helping Lynn eat the soup he had brought, the two killers in San Bernardino were preparing to press the trigger in their insane rampage. We had no way of knowing that. Ruhel’s action represented the very best of humanity, what we see most. The killers in any places represent the murderous fringe of all societies.
Who do we wish to recognize and empower?
POSTSCRIPT:
There seems considerable fantasy thinking when the emphasis is on the belief that terror can be kept out, by refusing to allow people who might theoretically do bad things in.
Not only can we not keep terror out, but the very hysteria of labeling people or groups as somehow evil only magnifies the threat to us.
I have a small personal example from a dozen years ago.
I was invited to join a delegation going to Haiti in 2003. I was the oldest in the group, and I went only as an opportunity to learn. That was my sole agenda.
On a particular day, we were invited to visit with a group of men and women from a slum, all of whom had been victims of political oppression, including rape, and the like. It was plausibly believed, at the time, that the United States was behind a move to oust the democratically elected President of Haiti, whose constituency was the poor, the very constituency we were visiting. The U.S. had previously supported the long-time brutal dictator of the country and, paradoxically, was not enamored of “democracy” in that impoverished country.
I just sat and listened as people described the outrages that had happened to them some years earlier. I had nothing to say. I took a few photos.
Afterwards, after a lunch provided by us, we went around the group to shake hands.
One of the men – I remember this vividly – refused to shake my hand.
I reminded him of something. Perhaps my age, my race, my nation, my demeanor reminded him of something offensive, probably related to the historical long time dominance over his country by the United States of America.
The “blowback” these days for dissing someone else is very likely and deliberate.
In even the poorest countries there are cell phones and television and networks now. People are aware.
What happened in Haiti sticks in my mind whenever I’m reminded of the gracious invitation of my friend in Pakistan to come and visit his country. Who is it who will see this American if I visit, and I remind him of something?
In other words, we make bad things much much worse by our “better than thou” attitude.
Our national arrogance is not helpful.

#1086 – Dick Bernard: "Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream…A Million Copies Made"

Lynn Elling, Sep 21, 2015, at Dedication of Minneapolis' Open Book as a Peace Site, sponsored by Minnesota Peace and Social Justice Writers Group

Lynn Elling, Sep 21, 2015, at Dedication of Minneapolis’ Open Book as a Peace Site, sponsored by Minnesota Peace and Social Justice Writers Group


Eight years ago – it was June of 2007 – I decided to drop in on the annual meeting of World Citizen, one of the member groups of the Minnesota Alliance of Peacemakers, of which I was then President.
During this meeting, an elderly man, Lynn Elling, who turned out to be the person who had founded World Citizen back in 1972, stood up and gave his 86-years young rendition of the peace anthem composed by songwriter Ed McCurdy, and made popular by John Denver, and many others: “Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream”.
A couple of weeks later, at the annual meeting of another MAP member organization, Citizens for Global Solutions, Lynn and his wife, Donna, sat down at the same table as myself, and he “set the hook” (those who know him know what that’s all about – for others, he’s a retired salesman!). For eight years now, in varying ways, I’ve tried the impossible, to keep up with Lynn Elling*, WWII Navy officer and lifelong peace advocate.
Early in our acquaintance, I learned that in 1971, Lynn borrowed John Denver for a day, and John sang his song, and another, and talked about peace in our world, for the film Man’s Next Giant Leap, which can be watched here.
I write about this today, for a couple of reasons:
First, Lynn, now closer to 95 than 94, is being transferred to Presbyterian Homes in Bloomington (98th and Penn). A day or two ago, it looked like finis for my friend, but the “old bird”, as he describes himself, doesn’t accept invitations from Father Time readily. So, sometime in the next day or two, Lynn’s health permitting, his friend Ruhel Islam of Gandhi Mahal, Larry Long and myself, will go down and hear Lynn’s story, once again. (If you know Lynn, and plan to visit, call Presbyterian Homes first (952-948-3000); and plan a trip Dec 2 or later.)
We’ll all know that Lynn’s every Friday evening at Gandhi Mahal has probably ended, and it will be a bittersweet visit.
Either of us could pass on before Lynn – that’s how life goes, you know. But the odds are not in Lynn’s favorite in this race: he has a long head start.
He’s run a good race for a lot of years, and it’s getting to be time to move on.
The second reason, relates to Ed McCurdy’s simple but powerful song about A Million Copies….
At this moment in history, it is easy to be terminally depressed about the state of our world. All you need to do is to watch the TV “news”.
But there is a major climate conference going on in Paris which is serious business. Sure, far too late, but going on nonetheless.
And there are major initiatives going on, largely not covered by the “mainstream media” to deal positively with the Syrian Refugee Crisis, and the xenophobia that has gained currency in the current U.S. Presidential candidate contests.
The event of the week is the attempt of politicians to get political distance away from the horrific incidents at the Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs. Were it not so very sad, it would almost be funny to see the attempts to manipulate the story. If you’ve got the time, read a long summary here.
Here’s what my own Church newsletter had to say about the Syrian Refugees on Sunday: Basilica Refugees001. Places like Basilica of St. Mary take on these issues.
Then there’s the business of “a million copies made”.
When McCurdy wrote his song, “leadership” was considered to be “man’s work”, and getting signatures of a million men was a very, very tall order.
The song was a fantasy.
Today women and kids are far greater players in all ways in this world, with much more power, if they so choose. And the men, not in McCurdy’s room, have far more power as well.
Still it is far easier to click a box on a screen in favor, or against something; or just fall into hopeless mode. “I can’t do anything anyway, why bother?”
But as in McCurdy’s Dream, individual effort is what will, in the long term make the difference.
The future is not to be delegated.
If you can’t make a million copies, make one, or two, or twenty.
Do something beyond your comfort zone, and do it every day.
Dick Bernard, Ruhel Islam, Lynn Elling, Larry Long, December 2, 2015

Dick Bernard, Ruhel Islam, Lynn Elling, Larry Long, December 2, 2015


* – The website behind Lynns’ name, A Million Copies, is a tribute to two passionate advocates for Peace and Justice, Lynn Elling and Dr. Joseph Schwartzberg. It is in need of maintenance, but remains identical to when I put it on line in March, 2008.

#1082 – Dick Bernard: Paris, the 6th day.

New Post Nov. 20: Let us all make a Happy Thanksgiving
Postnote from Dick, Nov 19, 2015: Today we were at Orchestra Hall, Minneapolis, for a magnificent performance of Tchaikovsky’s magnificent Symphony No. 6 in B minor Opus 74, Pathetique. In the November 2015 program notes (p. 18) was an Essay, “Thanksgiving” in French, by fellow French-Canadian friend Dan Chouinard. The essay seems especially apropos as the first week after the tragedy in Paris comes to an end. Read the essay here: Thanksgiving 2015001 (the program notes for todays concert are also included, as a bonus.)
Maybe Marco Rubio said it best yesterday (without intending to do so): He said that if there was a single terrorist among the 10,000 refugees, none should be allowed into our country. What about the 9999, Marco? What about the 9999 everywhere – the rest of us?
This is a time when people of good will must speak out. Don’t let the haters have the last word, of any nationality or belief. This is not a time to be silent.

Comment from Jeff Nov. 18: Recommend [this, from Dwight Eisenhower] … and its your time period,, I was born a few months after this speech. From Dick: My memory years, grades one through college, were of Harry S. Truman, and Dwight David Eisenhower, with a few months of John F. Kennedy…. Thanks, Jeff.
*
My thoughts about Paris on November 13 can be read here. I quoted my friend in Paris in the earlier post. This morning came news of the shootout with alleged perpetrators of 11-13 in St.-Denis, suburban Paris.
My friend lives about 25 miles from St.-Denis, not all that far away….
*
Last night on a news show came up a graphic of the United States, with 31 of the 50 states shaded: These were the states whose Governors, all but one Republican, are united in common cause, to keep Syrian refugees outside their borders, presumably to keep their citizens safe.
My own state, thankfully, is one of the “islands” whose Governor didn’t take the bait.
The 31 Governors are engaged in a stupid, collective, act. It is an orchestrated and outrageous extreme over-reaction, totally politically motivated. Of course, it will play well in certain sectors, which is the reason for doing it in the first place….
This mornings paper revealed that a grand total of about 2000 Syrians have come into the U.S. in recent years, most of them women with children; for Minnesota, there have been 9. The process of immigrating is rigorous. U.S. law does not allow Governors to decide who crosses their borders: we are a country after all; not a collection of fiefdoms. Actions like this increase the odds of future incidents, rather than decrease them.
European leaders have a far more difficult task to manage than we do, but for the most part are performing admirably and charitably. That’s how leaders should be.
*
Here at home:
Many of our own red-blooded patriotic Americans are far more armed and potentially dangerous than most any of those immigrants with sometimes funny names and languages.
Anyone can look at the data: we revere weapons. Killing people is as American as Apple Pie. Going to war is easy, armed to the teeth.
*
In my previous post, I suggest that the cynical opportunism of our leaders in response to 9-11-01 has aided and abetted the tragedies in Paris and other places. We have little “cover” on that score: Iraq wasn’t involved n 9-11, but early on became the target. It takes little scholarly research about what happened afterwards.
There have been other home-grown tragedies here in our own country. I recall specifically Oklahoma City April 19, 1995 which killed 168 people and wounded 680 others.
Back then I heard about it on the radio, initially, and initial reports suggested that a middle eastern appearing man was a person of interest.
Soon enough the actual perpetrators were in custody: two anti-government white American citizens, Tim McVeigh and Terry Nichols, part of the underground in this vast country of ours.
Fast forward to 9-11-01 and the frantic days immediately following:
About two weeks after 9-11, I was in a laundromat, doing one of those “honey do” tasks: washing some heavy rugs. The TV channel did not interest me, so I looked at the magazines lying nearby.
A US News and World Report caught my eye (more interesting than Good Housekeeping), and I picked it up, and looking at the table of contents noticed something very odd: there was not a single mention of 9-11-01.
I looked at the cover, and the issue date was September 25, 2000 – a year earlier.
The magazine did have a very interesting and long article about our U.S. underworld of Neo-Nazis, part of our own home grown terrorists. Here is the entire magazine article, to get the entire context: Terrorism Report US News and World Report001
*
Personally, I believe the national and the international response to the current crisis in France is appropriate and necessary.
The world is a complex place, and there are true evil-doers out there (including amongst our own citizens).
Soon, Paris will be off the front pages – such news never lasts – to be replaced with the next tragedy of the day.
We’re a good country filled with good people, but you’d hardly know it by headline news each and every day.
Have a great Thanksgiving.
POSTNOTES:
1. A couple of weeks ago, and again last night on national news, I heard a similar message: “those Syrian men [those refugees’] should stay at home and fight their own battles.” The suggestion is, it’s their mess, they should clean it up.
Oh, if it were only that easy. One of the correspondents with the complaint was a dear friend of ours who grew up in Adolf Hitler’s Germany. Her Dad, an engineer by trade, refused to join the Nazis. This was a dangerous act, and he was drafted into the German Army as a road engineer and ultimately died, they think, somewhere in Russia near the end of the war.
Once the Nazi threat was truly known, by the Germans themselves, it was dangerous to as much as complain to a friend, or even family, about the party. It was a death sentence. So it is for the people who live in places like Raqqa. Become a soldier against Daech and you and your family prospectively have the same fate.
2. Nov. 7, a friend sent me one of those “forwards” with the purported truth about Muslims. You can read it here, including a brief analysis. It first started whirring around the internet about 2009.
A couple of weeks earlier, I was asked to introduce a young Muslim woman, Mnar Muhawesh, at a meeting in Minneapolis. I met Mnar 15 minutes before I introduced her. There were about 35 of us in attendance, and she gave a powerful commentary which seems to fit well with this post. You can watch the video here. Of particular interest is her own life story growing up in the U.S., then several years in Palestine, then back to the U.S. after 9-11-01. There is a great deal of food for thought
3. October, 2015: President Jimmy Carter’s framework for working towards peace in Syria, here.

#1080 – Dick Bernard: Armistice Day 2015

Today, November 11, I participated in Veterans for Peace (VFP) Armistice Day commemoration as I always do. This year we were at Landmark Center auditorium in St. Paul.
I thought back to the first Armistice Day I remember, at very busy Gatwick Airport in suburban London, England, November 11, 2001. We were about to board our aircraft to fly home. At precisely 11 a.m., the airport went totally quiet for two minutes. You could have heard a pin drop. I wasn’t aware of this observance of the end of World War I: it is unforgettable.
I recounted this powerful moment at the first VFP observance I attended, at Ft. Snelling Cemetery, Nov. 11, 2002. In between the two dates, I met Wayne W, who recruited me into Vets for Peace Chaper 27. Today, at the observance I heard he had been hospitalized at VA Medical Center, so I went down to visit. It seemed the very least I could do.
A memorable quote today: “War is a series of catastrophies which results in a victory.” The speaker didn’t give the source. It appears to be Georges Clemenceau, French Prime Minister during part of WWI (more here).
World War I was indeed a catastrophe which, among many other things, led us right into World War II.
Recently we went to a powerful exhibition at the Museum of Russian Art in Minneapolis entitled “Faces of War: Russia in World War I (1914-18)
The exhibition continues until March, 2016, and it doesn’t sugarcoat this “war to end war“, which seems to have initially centered on the German Empire and Russia. Of course, there is a much larger and longer and more deadly story, and the exhibit helps begin the conversation. World War I, the advent of modern warfare, proved that war is, indeed, hell.

Not long ago, in a 1912 Geography Book found at the home farm in ND, I found an old map of Europe in 1912. It is below, you can click to enlarge. It certainly also helps to give context to a place in a particular time in history.
(click to enlarge)

Map of Central Europe in 1912 edition of Natural Advanced Geography textbook

Map of Central Europe in 1912 edition of Natural Advanced Geography textbook


Clemenceau’s quotation is described as “cynical”, and perhaps it was so intended.
But war never has a good end, even for the victors, as victors find out over and over and over again.
Armistice Day, Vets for Peace, Landmark Center, St. Paul Nov. 11 2015

Armistice Day, Vets for Peace, Landmark Center, St. Paul Nov. 11 2015