October 22, 2011 · 7:07 pm

Thank you, Aaron Smith

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The news that the Pittsburgh Steelers have placed Aaron Smith on the injured reserve list brings a twinge of sorrow. He played a key, unsung role on the defense for many years, never achieving superstar status, but never receiving the recognition that he deserves. He helped make the Steelers defense one of the dominant defenses during his thirteen years on the team. They never equaled the status of the Steel Curtain, although they exceeded that defense in some statistical categories. But the game has changed in over the last forty years.

This marks the third consecutive year that Smith has landed on injured reserve, unable to play a full season. At his age, one has to wonder, will he come back again? Even before his current injuries resulted in an end to his year, conversation indicated this could be his final year.

Should he come back again – should this be the end – either way – thank you Aaron Smith for the professionalism and poise which you brought to your role in the Black and Gold for so long.

See you along the Trail.

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October 22, 2011 · 2:17 pm

Willow at Harlem Meer

The willow,
driven mad by
thirst it cannot quench
via its root system,
dips its branches into
Harlem Meer.

Central Park
22 October 2011

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October 22, 2011 · 9:37 am

Negative calories?

I had some Ben and Jerry‘s ice cream last night.

I did not pay close enough attention to what I purchased. Nor did I notice when I served it.

My first taste brought a delightful coffee flavor. I then checked the label: Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.

Reading the label more carefully I realized that the flavor derives from Fair Trade Certified™ coffee extract.

That got me to thinking: such ice cream must have negative calories, right?

If so, or if not – I recommend it highly!

See you along the Trail.

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October 20, 2011 · 10:52 pm

Grief compounds grief

Grief compounds grief.

Each new loss, however profound or simple, touches old losses, however simple or profound, however raw or well-healed.

The losses need not be ours. When a family member – someone we love – even a friend – endures a loss, it sets the spider web of our emotions trembling. It touches our soul.

Each new loss tears at us, raking the scars and the scabs we carry – sometimes causing minor irritation – sometimes a bit of seepage – sometimes opening afresh old wounds – sometimes inflicting new ones.

Grief compounds grief.

I have shared that insight with family, parishioners and friends.

I have known that intellectually.

I have lived that.

Grief compounds grief.

In recent days, a number of my friends have experienced the death of dogs – faithful pets, beloved companions.

I have grieved for each friend – I grieved with each friend.

And in that grieving, I have come to realize – that I still grieve for Charley – who shared life with our family – who shared life with my brother’s family – for many years. On a pretty day at the end of April, Charley was put to sleep following a period of illness.

With a heart that aches for many reasons, I say to my friends who grieve the loss of a pet – peace. Peace be with you. Remember. Shed a tear. And rejoice.

Grief compounds grief.

See you along the Trail.

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October 20, 2011 · 10:20 pm

That grieves me, too

I grieve for Elias Ocean Johnson whose young life ended far too soon – almost before it began – and far too brutally. I tremble as I seek to imagine what his last moments were like – what his few months were like.

I grieve for Dana Johnson, his mother and all who loved Elias.

I grieve for Christopher T. Johnson who reportedly testified to, and was convicted of, killing Elias. Alabama executed Johnson this evening.

I grieve for the prison personnel called upon to take Johnson’s life; I grieve for those who love them.

Johnson did not want anyone to block his execution and he filed no appeals. What he said he did appalls me and offends me. The cruel, violent act that took the life of baby Elias also violated and brutalized our society.

Yet, in my grief, I also believe that by taking Johnson’s life, the state – our society – has also been wounded and diminished. Our willingness to take a life for a life appears an act of vengeance – not of justice – not of restoration – not of seeking some new possibility out of an act of evil.

I do not know what should happen to those who kill our sisters and brothers, however old, however young. That grieves me, too. But I am sure that capital punishment is not the answer.

See you along the Trail.

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October 18, 2011 · 11:32 pm

I wonder

Alabama will, in all likelihood, execute Christopher T. Johnson on October 20. Johnson has been convicted of a heinous crime – the murder of his son – a six-month old child. My heart breaks for Elias Ocean Johnson and those who love him. Johnson does not deny the crime – published reports indicate that he has admitted that he committed the crime.

Writers describe Johnson as a “volunteer.” He acted as his own attorney and has rejected appeals.

Yet even under these circumstances, I wonder:

What do we gain by Johnson’s execution?

How does it benefit Elias? Or protect other babies from abuse?

Does an execution – any execution – not demean and degrade the State and all of us? What does it say about us? What does it do to our soul?

Does imposing the death penalty – under these circumstances, under any circumstances – not brutalize our society? Is it not an act of vengeance – a denial of the possibility of repentance and renewal?

Does Johnson’s willingness to be executed absolve the state or change the reality of the death penalty?

I wonder . . . but I still oppose this and all executions.

See you along the Trail.

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October 17, 2011 · 9:11 pm

View from the front of the train

I had never been there before –
not that I have all that much experience,
but I do ride the subway regularly –
I have done so since I have been in New York.
I prefer it to the bus
or even a cab (unless I am carrying a lot of stuff).
So that’s kind of often,
yet not all that much,
but nowhere in those trips,
however many,
however few,
have I ever done
what I did today.

On a homeward journey,
I hurried down the steps in Grand Central
to find, sitting in the station, a number 3 train –
clearly about to depart,
nonetheless prepared to receive boarders.
I did. Into the lead car, I slipped.
The doors closed, and were caught
by a privileged child with his umbrella and a sneer.
They reopened and a number of travelers poured in.
They drove me, gently I admit,
but relentlessly drove,
to the front of the train. The very front.

Never having been there before,
a moment passed before I realized the view;
when I did, it grabbed me; I became entranced –
watching red, blue, green, white, yellow –
flashing colors of light,
girders blurring on the side,
the track disappearing under the train.
I moved closer to the window;
watching a fantastic world,
only tearing myself away
from the view at the front of the train
when I feared I would miss my stop.

Shire on the Hudson
17 October 2011

 

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October 17, 2011 · 8:36 pm

Eyes between his feet

Faithfully, patiently, his black eyes sat between his feet.
His white hair, lightly, very lightly peppered hung over his shirt collar.
oblivious to the passengers who looked them over carefully,
his thumb flicked open his watch to learn the time.

The train slowed as it approached the station; his eyes stood
on all four legs, certain this was the stop; he patted a haunch,
spoke softly, and shortened the leash; his eyes sat back down.
When the train squealed to halt, they rose, and together departed.

Downtown 3 Train
17 October 2011

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October 14, 2011 · 8:17 pm

Do you remember Allison?

I loaded the laundry and started the machines. Laundry night, bound to brim with excitement.

I stopped by the vending machine to pick up a Diet Coke. As I started back through the security door, I heard a group coming into the building. I did the nice thing and waited for them, holding the door.

Their interactions clearly marked them as an extended family; their clothes showed they had gathered for a family event of some sort.

We crowded on to the elevator. They made family jokes and talked about other family members. In the few short moments we rode together, names were named and tales told.

Finally someone mentioned Allison. The name drew a reaction.

“Allison?” said one of the younger men standing behind me.

“You remember Allison,” replied one of the women. “You wanted to marry her at Uncle Percy’s funeral.”

At that point the elevator reached their floor and they piled out of the elevator, leaving me to wonder:

Was a proposal made at the funeral? Did the wedding ever take place? Why not? How were Uncle Percy and Allison related, if at all? Where is Allison now? Is she well? Does she miss what could have been? Was she already married at the time of the funeral?

Many questions that will keep me up all night.

See you along the Trail.

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October 13, 2011 · 8:49 pm

Sometimes heroes fail

I am watching a movie about one of my heroes: Shake Hands with the Devil. It is a wrenching and painful movie set during the Rwandan genocide – a time of brutality and horror; a time of failure – failure by the nations, leaders and peoples of the world, failure by the United Nations, failure even by my hero.

Lieutenant-General Roméo Dallaire, of Canada, served as Force Commander for UNAMIR the UN peacekeeping force for Rwanda between 1993 and 1994. He was there for the 100 days of genocide. Dallaire did not stop the genocide. He did not command perfectly. He made mistakes.

During a scene set in a hospital, a woman says to him: “We’re dying and all you say is there’s nothing you can do.” Did that scene really happen? Perhaps. I would need to re-read his book. But it could have.

He is credited with helping to save thousands. Yet he remains haunted by individuals – hundreds of thousands of individuals – who were not saved – who perished on his watch. As the CBC notes: “After Rwanda, Dallaire blamed himself for everything. He sank deep into despair. He attempted suicide.”

Why then, do I consider Dallaire a hero?

Because he tried. Faced with the situation, so many turned away. Even though they knew – even though Dallaire told them – they world turned its back on Rwanda. In the words of another line from the movie, the world dismissed Rwanda as “just one more African mess.” But Dallaire stayed and tried. He remained faithful – faithful to his charge and faithful to the people.

So for Roméo Dallaire – for the unnamed people of Rwanda and soldiers and medical personnel and journalists and others who stood with him – for all who stand against death and evil – for all who work for life – I give thanks.

See you along the Trail.

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