A New Star

i282600889618003436._szw1280h1280_I love to hear stories about people who work at jobs that they truly love. Too many people go to work day after dreary day, dreading everything about their occupations. Sometimes they feel trapped in professions that don’t suit them. Changing careers means making great financial sacrifices that they are not willing to endure. They simply remain miserable. Then there are those who risk everything to follow their dreams. Those are the people that I really admire. 

At Mike’s fiftieth class reunion I finally had the opportunity of meeting someone of whom he had often spoken. The man was Ken Magee. It seems that Ken had gone out to Hollywood shortly after graduating to try his hand at acting. He never became famous enough that anyone would quickly recall his name but he did make enough of an impression on the powers that be in the movie industry that he earned a living doing small parts. Hollywood became his home and acting his lifetime career. In fact, he had hundreds of roles in movies and television over the years. His filmography is extensive and even impressive. He played in The Shawshank Redemption, Seabiscuit, Human Nature, The Majestic, E.R., Cold Case, and so many more. He portrayed everything from a scoutmaster to an intellectually deficient murder suspect. He possessed a somewhat forgetful, everyman kind of face that made him perfect for a variety of character roles. Over the years Mike had fun spotting him in different films. Mike liked to brag that he had known Ken before he was famous.  Continue reading “A New Star” →

ZZZ

i282600889617983237._szw1280h1280_I had to get up quite early yesterday morning to accompany Mike to the doctor’s office for a glucose tolerance test. It was still dark outside when I arose but there were already children standing on the corner waiting for the school bus. When we left the sun was barely rising over the horizon and yet the streets were crowded with people on their way to work. I was thankful that I no longer have to rush out of the house each morning as I did in the years when I was working. I also thought about an article that I recently read that reported the results of a study that found that most Americans are sleep deprived. 

When I was young there was much talk about how technology would one day allow mankind to work less. Back then prognosticators insisted that we would eventually see twenty to thirty hour work weeks and enjoy much more time for relaxation with our families. Forecasters described a wonderful world in which machines would help us to realize the best of ourselves with less effort. Of course, we all know that few people work shorter hours today. In fact they may even work more. The promised technological innovations have made it easier for fewer employees to accomplish tasks. Instead of shortening the hours of work, most organizations have simply reduced the number of workers that they hire. Most of the people that I know, including young children, seem to be filling more and more minutes of every single day with activities that actually serve to diminish the time that they have to sleep. Our nation is filled with people who are exhausted.   Continue reading “ZZZ” →

Our Brother’s Keeper

i282600889617910776._szw1280h1280_Knowing my interest in such things, my daughter recommended a documentary to me last week. I was doing a bit of cleaning and decided to watch it while I did my work. I rarely just sit when a program is playing. Call it attention deficit disorder or obsessive compulsive behavior, I can’t seem to quell my energy long enough to just stay in one spot unless I am writing or working on a tutoring project. This particular program, however, was so compelling that it captured my attention totally and I was soon in a chair taking copious mental notes about its content. I also found myself sobbing, the reasons for which will become clear as I discuss the remarkable film, Brother’s Keeper.

The documentary was produced in the early nineteen nineties by fledgling film makers who took out a bank loan to purchase the equipment that they needed. They had been transfixed by the story of the Ward brothers who lived in rural Munnsville, New York. Bill, Delbert, Roscoe, and Lyman had grown up on a dairy farm and when their father died while they were still young boys they dropped out of school and did all of the work to keep the family business going for their mother. Sadly she died in nineteen sixty five when they were all still quite young men. After her death the brothers became reclusive, only going into town to eat breakfast and carry out matters related to running the dairy farm. 

The Ward boys were outcasts because they lived in a way that few in the modern world would comprehend. They never bathed nor washed their clothes. They simply threw their garments away when they became too worn to wear. They lost their teeth early and grew unruly beards. Their tiny house was filthy and so small that they had to share beds just as they had done as young boys. None of them ever married. Instead they relied on one another for companionship. Their days were relentlessly uneventful as they cared for their cows and other animals. They lived in poverty and squalor seemingly without realizing how dire their social and economic situation actually was. 

On a morning in nineteen ninety one of the brothers ran to a neighbor’s farm to ask for help. Brother Bill was in very bad shape and possibly even deceased. When police and medical personnel arrived they found the man dead in his bed. It initially appeared to be just another old person dying from the effects of age, nothing to be concerned about. When the Medical Examiner checked the body, however, he found some spots of blood that lead him to be suspicious that the cause of death was more sinister. Therefore the police returned to question the three remaining brothers. 

The lawmakers took all three of the Wards to police headquarters and after hours of interrogation Delbert signed a statement confessing to suffocating his brother, asserting that the deceased had been complaining of pain for some weeks. He would later claim that the police had demonstrated to him how he had murdered his brother and that he had only agreed to sign the document because he thought he would be able to go home if he did. Because he had only a third grade education and an IQ of about 63 it is doubtful that he was able to either read or understand what he the information contained in the written confession. Furthermore he did not have his glasses with him and would not have been able to see the words even if he were able to read. When he was charged with murder the people in the small town became enraged and joined together to help him in his defense. 

While the citizens of Munnsville had generally avoided the Ward boys, they nonetheless knew them to be good if ignorant men who minded their own business and worked hard to eke out a subsistence living. They were appalled that anyone would accuse any of the men of a crime as violent as murder. They raised Delbert’s bail money and even held events in his honor. For the first time the Ward boys felt that they were part of a loving community.

The film follows the story all the way through Delbert’s trial and the final verdict. With a disturbing poignancy it shows the effects of low intelligence, lack of education, mental difficulties, social isolation, and poverty. The Ward brothers were throw backs to another era in our history. The modernity of the world had all but passed them by save for an ancient refrigerator and a small television that were the most precious of their possessions. They had no heat in their home even though winter temperatures were often brutal. There was no running water either. They had long ago given up on cleanliness so that decades of filth lay all around them. They had been left to themselves and their own resources as long as they didn’t bother anyone. People simply thought them odd but did little to help them until they were finally in dire trouble. 

Watching the story of the Ward boys was heart breaking and I cried multiple times. It was difficult to view but something that I felt I compelled to do. As Mike and I have traveled in our trailer we have often driven into areas so different from our urban environment as to make us uncomfortable. The abject poverty of some people is all too apparent. The opportunities in some places are so few. We see evidence of social rot on virtually every trip that we take. There are thousands and thousands of Ward boys in our country that we rarely take the time to consider. Through combinations of ignorance and illness they have to fight just to stay alive. They often become hopeless. They are part of a great American tragedy that we don’t always see up close. 

The interesting thing about the Ward brothers is that they were actually quite hard working men. They did not simply sit around waiting for welfare checks. They arose early each day and cared for their livestock even when snow covered the ground. They lived much like our ancestors would have. They never owned a car and their needs were quite simple. They often ate soup for dinner and virtually never enjoyed the kind of entertainment that most of us take for granted. They didn’t feel sorry for themselves either. They were rather stoic and taciturn individuals. They had figured out a way to survive from one day to the next that seemingly worked for them. 

As an educator I often wondered and worried about some of my students who struggled so mightily to learn. They too lived in poverty and were part of an unbroken cycle of one generation after another barely scraping by. Sometimes I became angry that we had so few answers and options for them. Our educational systems all too often fail the very people who most need the knowledge and the skills necessary to do better than just living forever on the edge. We can’t all go to college nor would we want to. Instead of only celebrating those who earn degrees we should also individualize our efforts for our students to include training and certifications for becoming electricians, mechanics, welders, plumbers and other skilled craftsmen. 

Simply throwing money at our economic problems isn’t enough. Even today coal mininers in Kentucky and West Virginia are unemployed and unsure how to proceed in a rapidly changing environment. Rather than just giving them compensation we must also be aware of the need to retrain them and to bring alternative job opportunities into their communities. It’s easy to pass environmental legislation that seemingly helps us all but more difficult to take into account those who will lose their livelihood. We can’t just ignore the plight of those among us who have become chronically poor. Education is our main weapon for combating such situations but we can’t simply create a one size fits all curriculum and think that we have done our best. If we are honest we will admit that we have let down so many of our children just as the town of Munnsville forgot the Ward boys. 

We are all our brother’s keepers. We can’t turn our heads away when we see horrific situations. The problems will not go away if we ignore them. We need the seriousness and the willingness to tackle them honestly and as a community. Hats off to those who are battling in the trenches as educators, doctors, and counselors. The work that they do will bring change to one person at a time. 

Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory

i282600889617884931._szw1280h1280_According to the Miriam Webster dictionary a hero is:


a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability
an illustrious warrior

a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities
one who shows great courage

I’ve had a number of heroes in my lifetime, starting with my father, but if I were challenged to quickly name a single individual whose life demonstrated as many of the aforementioned qualities as possible it would have to be Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I have been fascinated by him and his work from the time that he walked among us here on earth. He was in reality an imperfect man like the rest of us but he somehow found an inner resolve again and again to carry out a mission from which he sometimes wanted to run. In the end his dedication to an incredible cause lead to his violent death, a particular irony given that he was always determined to bring about change through passive resistance and peaceful demonstrations.   Continue reading “Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory” →

Class of 66

i282600889617719916._szw1280h1280_I don’t usually think about my high school days much anymore. In May it will have been fifty years since I graduated and I suppose that reaching that milestone has prompted me to think back to those days. I was only seventeen years old on commencement day and still somewhat of an emotional mess. My experience during the four years at Mt. Carmel High School were a mixed bag to say the least, but then I suspect that everyone feels that way about their teen years to a certain extent. I certainly had some incredible moments but I also endured some painful episodes that caused me to question my self worth. I would have no interest whatsoever in repeating that grand adventure but overall I have to admit to mostly enjoying myself.

If there is ever a time of life when one gets stuffed into a clique it is in high school. The placement process at Mt. Carmel added to the creation of very artificial groupings. Each student was essentially ranked based on results of an entrance exam and grades in junior high. Initially I was slated to be in the second tier from the top but my teachers insisted that I receive a chance to run with the big dogs in the honors class. In a sense that decision determined my destiny for the next four years. I was so frightened of demonstrating that I didn’t belong with my more intellectual peers that I worked day and night to keep my grades high. This created a kind of self imposed isolation for me that was further complicated by the fact that the only class that I shared with the rest of the students was Religion. I literally only saw the other members of the Class of 66 when I was passing from one room to another or at lunch.

I joined a number of clubs but the ones that I chose tended to keep me with the same students with whom I shared classes. I had been the Captain of the Twirlers in junior high but when I saw how beautiful the members of the high school baton team were I lost my nerve and decided not to try out. I certainly possessed the needed skills but I was an unbelievably late bloomer. It would be a very long time before I no longer looked like a small child. Somehow I couldn’t see myself wearing the short skirts of the twirlers nor having anything in common with them. When I announced that I simply wanted to be one of the marchers my mom let me know how heartbroken she was. It became such an issue between the two of us that I found it easier not to even become a member of the Cadettes. That has perhaps been my biggest regret because it would have provided me with an opportunity to meet more of my classmates. 

I loved my teachers and other than a science class here and there I don’t recall disliking any of the courses. I felt an amazing world opening up before me and I reveled in learning. I had always struggled a bit with arithmetic but I found Algebra and Geometry and Trigonometry to come quite naturally to me. That is when I really began to actually enjoy mathematics. Of course my first love was English and little wonder with a teacher like Father Shane. He taught me an appreciation of grammar, literature, writing, music and art. He introduced me to a world that I had never before known. I suspect that in many ways he was much like my father who had so long before given me a love of reading. Father Shane took my natural instincts and honed them until I was truly ready for more difficult challenges. 

I had wonderful friends. My life wasn’t totally about studying. We had tons of fun attending sporting events, talking on the phone, shopping, listening to music and planning parties. Of course boys were a reoccurring topic of our conversations. I won’t divulge the names of my heartthrobs but there were certainly a number of young men with whom I fell in love from time to time. Nothing ever came of those crushes but it was fun to dream. I was socially backward at that time and as shy as they come. I would grow out of my self consciousness rather quickly in college but during those high school years I often wanted to just be invisible.

I can’t say that I was unpopular. I did indeed have a large number of friends and I was often the victor in various elections. I served on the Student Council and became an editor of the newspaper. I had at one time considered becoming a doctor and as such became a member of the Medical Careers Club where I eventually served as the president. Surprisingly I had no fear when it came to speaking or debating. Somehow I was able to think of myself as another person when addressing a crowd. It was something that I enjoyed and for which I had a certain talent. 

I’ve spent fifty years becoming someone far different from the little girl that I was back then. I’ve been around the block a time or two and I’m not self-centered like I once was. I am who I am and I really don’t worry about what others may think of me. I’ve had a wonderfully purposeful life and I totally like myself. I have experienced all of the things that back then I worried would never happen. I found my kindred spirit, married, and became a mother. I did well in my occupation and achieved a certain level of respect. I have formed amazing friendships that have sustained me through the good and the bad times. I can honestly say that I believe that I have contributed positively to the world. Now that I am retired I am living the dream that always lingered in the back of my mind by finally writing for an audience on a regular basis. 

I’ve begun to reconnect with some of my classmates, many of whom I only vaguely knew back then. I have found them to be wonderful people. We were all brought up to cherish certain qualities and characteristics that would make us good and worthy citizens of the world. We have each done our very best during the last fifty years. Some have become wealthy but most of us are mostly average middle class sorts whose worth is not found in fame or materialism but in the way we treat the people that we meet. 

We have all grown in wisdom and age and grace before God and man. Our faces and hands bear the lines of experience. Our heads hold varying numbers of gray hairs. We remember those good times when we were so young but treasure this moment. We are proud of ourselves and our accomplishments. We exchange jokes and come together when one among us is sick or dying. Hopefully many of us will gather together sometime this year to reminisce and catch up. After fifty years the only clique is the great big family that we have grown to be. We will celebrate one another and the fact that things turned out pretty well for almost all of us. Life is wonderful that way. We mature and learn to value what is most important. It’s too bad that we didn’t figure everything out way back when. We would have had so much more time to enjoy one another’s company.