REFLECTIONS ON TIME THEN AND NOW

Twenty-years ago on December 31 people began to wonder what will happen when The Digital Transformation begins?  Would transactions made in 1999 be honored when banks began to use zeroes to record financial and personal deposits?  How would Hospital, Police and Fire Departments  operate?  People began to store water, food and other necessities in fear that delivery systems would be interrupted. Though the engineering changes had been studied and anticipated many years before, there was a sense of uncertainty that calamity would happen when the great Crystal Ball of New York would ring out the message "Happy New Year 2000!"   I  believe the same sense of uncertainty and fear is felt now.

To overcome our fear then we sought the advice of honest, reasonable leaders who were not arrogant.  We found  information easily and accessibly through a free press.  As citizens we used technology to  help us improve deficiencies and extend opportunities for education.  In the next twenty years we will experience more changes.  Sometimes we may call upon religious or spiritual faith to ease us through change, but  let that faith not question one's loyalty to this country.  It is not a single person or  ideology that will lead us safely.  Not one of us is above the law, it is our heritage.    We need to listen more to correct injustice.  We need to examine our own behavior.  The New Year allows us to be hopeful that America's fairness  will be seeded by the kindness we citizens accord each other.

May good health, good weather and common sense be accorded you and yours in 2020.

                                            HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020!

                                         

WORDS AND WIT THAT INSPIRE

I was curious  about the article "The Polymath Who Led With His Wit.*"

I had never heard of a polymath.   Nor did I know of the writing of Clive James a literary critic until I read his eulogy. At first I thought polymath was about mathematics.  In some ways the logic of mathematics combined with the rhythm of music are the things I enjoy most about writing.

James was 80 when he died. I read of his literary accomplishments and of his ability to laugh at himself and illness.  He left a legacy of quotes. In one of his final interviews he talks of "The childish urge to understand everything doesn't necessarily fade.  If you don't know the exact moment when the lights will go out, you might as well read until they do."

Would that all of us understood that kind of plain, earthy language.

                                          _________________________

*The Polymath Who Led With His Wit
Dwight Garner/ An Appraisal
New York Times, 11-30-19

NEW POST NOVEMBER 13

THANKSGIVING 2019

PEACE, SO STRONG OUR DESIRE, SO FRAGILE TO ACHIEVE

OUR TABLE HOLDS FAMILIAR AND NEW DISHES

SURROUNDED BY FAMILY, FRIENDS AND STRANGERS

TELLING STORIES THAT PRESERVE US

AS WE REMEMBER THOSE NOT HERE.

Beverly Rehfeld

from St. Louis, Missouri

THE MEMORIES WE PRESERVE

Last week Don and I visited the August A. Busch Conservation Memorial Park.  We were hoping to catch a glimpse of the last of autumn's colors.  We did see some earthy colors like ochre-yellow and sturdy green trees, but what I found so beautiful was the nearly 7000 acres of land itself. The land was once owned by farmers and individual private property owners until it was sold by Missouri to Mr. August Busch in 1947. Mr. Busch's wife Alice contributed $70,000 to the Missouri Department of Conservation to preserve the area for public use.

We traveled the narrow but well marked roads around the park. We saw signs of the crop land that may have been in existence at the time the State of Missouri took over and created the nature reserve.  We saw some of the 550 acres of lakes and ponds and the remains of farming fields. Once in a while Don spotted a bunker or two used by the United States Army to store TNT and other toxic chemicals years ago.  As a result, the area became a part of the Federal Superfund Environmental Program.

Of particular interest to me was the boardwalk over the wetlands. It was not very large, but large enough to provide a small shack through which we observed ducks.  Some of the geese flying overhead "honked" loudly as if we had disturbed their area.  We searched without success to find frogs or even some small minnows in the weeds.  There was a small slick in the weeds which I wondered, could it have been toxic causing the absence of amphibians.

As I left the duck blind which faces East toward the Mississippi River, I thought of the people we had seen fishing and hunting and biking along the way. I wondered too what reaction there may have been by Native Americans who may have spotted strangers about to inhabit their land. Did people object to the Federal Government's takeover of their property because of a "strange law" known as Eminent Domain?

When we left we were refreshed and inspired. The Memorial, through the efforts of Alice Busch to keep alive and preserve this part of Missouri's history, benefits all of us. Being there was a reminder of the power of land and water and of how both can be enhanced or destroyed by humans and nature.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF HALLOWEEN

One week before Halloween and one year after the murder of Jews who had been worshipping in a Pittsburgh Synagogue I sat in a simple Chapel in Cincinnati.  I was with my son Andrew Rehfeld, his wife Miggie Greenberg, my grandchildren Emma and Hoben and their friends, Julia and Corbyn.  We were together to celebrate the Inauguration of Andrew as Presidentof Hebrew Union College - Jewish Institute of Religion etablished in 1875.

We were joined by more family members, colleagues and a delegation of people from St. Louis and from other cities and countries around the world.  My older son Edward was in Australia working with the Laborers' International Union of North America on a conference.  He was able to stream the Inauguration proceedings by computer.*

The Inauguration lasted three days during which time we observed the rituals so familiar to the Jewish people.  We broke bread with strangers. We listened to familiar music sung in Cantorial style played on new and ancient instruments. We danced.  We studied Torah with students, rabbis and other learned men and women. We ate, and we remembered those people of all ages and beliefs no longer here.

 We went by bus from the College Campus, to visit and enjoy the hospitality of three different Temples.  We visited the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center and the historic Plum Street Temple where the inauguration of Andrew Rehfeld Ph.D. as the tenth President  of the Hebrew Union College took place.

 Even after Mother Nature poured drenching rain on the proceedings, when the rain abated I felt as if we had been reminded of our heritage to seek justice and law to overcome hatred and fear of others,
and I thought how grateful I was to have been a part of it all.

                                    _________________________

*Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute
HUCmoji  huc.edu/HUCmoji

AUTUMN'S PROMISE & REMEMBRANCE

Right in the middle of political frenzy and religious remembrance comes Autumn.  It brings holiday observance for those of faith as well a sense of awe for the impact custom and nature can have.

Suddenly roads and fields are dry.  Clouds that seemed to be permanently fixed above us are gone.  The drenching rain gives way to a fine and billowing mist.  The sky becomes crystal clear and temperatures drop.  Trees and shrubs show their color and reveal the hiding places of small creatures.

 We know Autumn will give way to Winter too soon but we delight in this season as it is. We promise ourselves to enjoy the crunch of leaves under foot before we need to deal with snow and ice.

"BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?"

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?*
We elected a man
who told us
all things
would be better
and he could do it alone.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
He wore a red cap
and used a helicopter
and fleet of cars
to wherever he went
and there was great excitement.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
Before he came
we worked hard
on our jobs
and loved our land.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
We helped keep
our waters clean
our skies free of pollution
our wetlands free of development
and our streets and roads
trash free.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
We worked
side by side
with all people
studied with all children
cared for those with disabilities
and tried to reverse long-held injustices
even when he told us some of us were unworthy
he refused to tell us his worth.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
We survived
floods, storms and intolerance
and he came to console us
but took away the laws
that would have helped us.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
He shows affection
for people, children and families
murdered by guns
but will not encourage Congressional
Representatives to sign laws
to reduce and register
the number of weapons
available in states and the nation.

BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
Now our children, parents and grandparents
sing out in a chorus of anguish
he "tweets" his reply
he leaves a trail of
state, national and international documents
that took years of study, planning and negotiations
he claims to have no merit and wipes them away.


For all this
BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?

_____________________________

"BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?"
Was a song of World War II written in 1930
it asked why have we squandered our nation?
With apology to Lyricist E.Y."YIP" Harburg
and Composer Jay Gormey.

FINDING INSPIRATION IN CHANGING TIMES

After dinner last night, Don and I walked out into the dark night.  The sky was clear of clouds except for the brightly shinning half-moon over head. We followed a path to a small group of people who were huddled about telescopes.* They were untroubled by our presence and invited us to join them.  We peered through a number of different telescopes and learned in detail what we saw. Next to me there was an elderly women seated in her walker waiting for her turn at the telescope.  People of all ages milled about and spoke in hushed voices.

When my turn came at the telescope I was excited and awed.  I was able to see the craters on the moon.  The colorful bands surrounding Saturn were visual.  Venuses small surrounding planets were visible and were explained to me as creating a picture similar to what our astronauts saw when they looked back at Planet Earth from the moon.

Each day people around the world live with similar issues.  Issues like gun control, human and creature migration, pollution and the abuse we perpetrate upon each other and the environment.  Often our patience and tolerance for others is short and we begin to forget the significance of law in our personal behavior when our leaders represent greed and corruption.  As hard as it maybe, there is a great need to begin to deal with honesty and justice in States across this country and to try to understand the changes we may need to make for our own life style.

It is in this spirit and with great humility that I extend good wishes to my readers and their families for the New Year and the holidays which follow in 2019.

Beverly

*This custom is often offered by Astronomical and Science Centers
in States across the Country.

AUGUST 2019 ENDS HALTINGLY

We say "Goodbye" to the enjoyment of loose fitting clothes and sitting on the ground to picnic.  We listen to the soft hum of the cicadas as sun sets amid a lingering summer breeze. We realize Fall is upon us.  Once again, we don sweaters and walk on paths with fast-changing colorful leaves and wild shrubbery.  We sit outside before controlled fire and tell stories.

In spite of turmoil created by human failings or nature's unprecedented furor. We know we shall prevail.  We have been given the responsibility of preserving kindness, trust and the ability to make changes under law.  We will use our votes to do so.  We will open our hearts and hands to help each other and the stranger in our midst.

Have a good Labor Day Weekend.

GETTING TO 90

There are speed limits for all motorized vehicles. From automobiles to rocket ships to ships at sea, when the meter reads 90 it means slow down!  Not so for people.  In retrospect, ninety year old people are vibrant and enjoying life albeit differently from earlier years.

When I reached my fiftieth birthday I held my own celebration because I had reached the half-century mark.  I did so in a small, screened porch in my home in suburban Philadelphia. I could not envision going from 1929 to 2019 but here I am! I am not much for giving clinical or "how to" advice but I share with you now those events and people who have nurtured me all this time.

 I was about one year old when my mother told me she was going to have a baby. Then mother disappeared. The most vivid memory I have was when my father told me he would take me to see mother, and my baby sister. We were not allowed in the hospital, but my father lifted me up on his shoulder and pointed to a corner window.  When I looked up I saw my mother holding my sister and waving at me.  My sister and I are just 16 months apart.  To this day, when I pass the site of the hospital, I remember the excitement of that day.  Then 10 years later my brother was born. Mother told us we now have a little baby of our own.  Since then my siblings and I have been close regardless of where life has taken us.

I had the good fortune of being born into a warm extended family of  grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins by the dozens. Mine is a family whose members are both ordinary and extraordinary.  My clan includes high achievers and some who have not met with success.  As a family we are well educated.  Some have opted for a life of labor and study, while others have become recognized nationally and internationally for their work in the arts, music and medicine.  Some of us have stood in unemployment lines as we sought work, and some have been denied work for reasons of hatred and bigotry.

All of this is recounted now, dear reader, as I mark a very big birthday.  The attempt  to put together a list of people who have influenced me over the years is worthy of a book.  Each person from food servers to cooks, to maintenance people, to considerate care givers all have enriched my life by the way in which they have shared their own with me. From my two sons and their families and to my two grandchildren and their friends and my own.  And to my companion and his family,  I thank you
for becoming a part of my life.  May each of you know the joy of kindness and respect as you reach the age of 90.

Keep well and keep in touch.  Beverly

MEMORIAL DAY 2019

A few weeks before Memorial Day, Don and I visited Jefferson Barracks, one of the country's largest veterans' cemeteries. We were there to honor a man who served as Chief Petty Officer in the United State Navy more than 20 years ago. Before going to the cemetery we went to a sectarian funeral parlor where eulogies were provided by children, grandchildren, friends and colleagues. People told stories about the man's humility, kindness and his love of art and woodworking. The parlor was filled with people sitting and standing. Almost all got into the long funeral cortege to go to the cemetery.

When we came there the day was warm with a breeze that rustled the trees and shrubbery. The family gathered under a sheltered, open air pavilion at the top of a hill. Below us a small group of sailors came forward. Some peeled off from the others to fire a nine-gun salute. Two others, a man and woman, came forward and stood directly in front of the family. They began to fold the flag, turned and joined the other sailors. Taps was played by a veteran who had a Service Dog on the grass beside him. As we heard the wail of Taps, two sailors walked up and placed the American Flag and the empty shells used to fire the nine-gun salute into the hands of family members.

As we left many people continued to emerge from their parked cars to greet the family, and I saw the stark whiteness of the more than 350,000 grave stones of men and women of all ages and beliefs who often give and gave their lives to this country. They and we believed it was for a "Just Cause."

That was and is what Memorial Day 2019 means to me.

AS THE RIVER RISES SO DO OUR HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS

My companion and I drove down to St. Louis' waterfront to watch the Mississippi River rising to record-breaking levels.  Streets and roads were blocked and we were unable to get through.  We drove on until we came to Carondelet Park which provided a spectacular view.  We could see the river as it carried heavily-loaded barges, some covered by water. All sorts of wooden items like gates and fences were hurtling past with the speed of the churning river.

As we looked around the park we found small historically significant buildings with old soiled signs advertising a summer concert held more than 100 years ago. The river continued to rise.  It seemed to mock us as it flowed past.  Homes and apartment buildings were close by.  Picnic tables,  swings and and rest rooms once in use are now in disrepair. Public parks are places for all of us  to enjoy if they are not neglected by users and government.(*)  It is in them we can watch the moon rise and the sun set, where children can learn to ride a bicycle where older people can meet friends and teenagers play basketball. As we stood in Carondelet Park the rain began once again. The river seemed to increase its flow taking with it our hopes and aspirations for the future of public parks and land.


(*) The St. Louis Post-Dispatch article, "St. Louis Parks Show Signs of Neglect," by  Janelle O'dea

TIME TO COME TOGETHER

In the past few months, a number of events happened that have strengthened my belief that we will live and respect each other as we enter this Springtime.

The first event was on a trip I took with my companion Don Snyder, on which we crossed the flooded Mississippi.  Water was rising and the banks held trees so distorted I ached for their inability
to stand upright, and the wetlands were so submerged I had to strain to see them.

The second was the toppling of the Notre-Dame Cathedral Spire Tower.  It may seem strange that two such unrelated events seem bound together much less produce hope for the future.

I believe Mother Nature has the ability not only to inspire poetic words and art work but to tame human ambition if it brings harm.  As many times as natural buffers and engineering devices try
to shore up coast lines, the river defends what is rightfully its own path.

When the Notre-Dame fire broke out I felt the anguish of losing so much history representing human creative ability and the horror we do to each other by closing down our ability to think.

So it is that I believe we can come  together if we use the ability we have to think.

APRIL BEGINS BY GETTING RID OF MARCH

In the month of March, Old Man Winter behaved like the guest who is invited to dinner then stays late.  St. Louis was treated with the same quirky weather as were other cities and nations on this Planet.  When it should have been  time for Spring to come to our table, she remained hidden behind layers of mist, fog, snow and ice.  The lady seemed deserted by the Sun. Rivers raged when they should have been bubbling brooks.  Winter came to us much too soon and is still hanging around.

No matter how bad things were, some of the upside to all this was the presence of the young and old who raised strong voices to tell us we need to change our ways if we are to protect Mother Earth and  ourselves.

SUNDIALS IN THE MIDST OF TURBULENCE

In the midst of automation and world-wide turbulence a small number of people will meet in Denver Colorado to see Sundials. They are part of a smaller number of men and women who are members of the North American Sundial Society which meets annually. The Society's membership is made up of men and women of all ages and includes medical and professional business people, naturalists and educators and even families. During the Society's 3-day Conference participants will tour local  Sundials of historical interest.

I attended the 25th Annual Conference held last year in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The Conference tour included sites which gave us a glimpse of the way people measured and recorded change through Sundials which became a part of that city's history.

The Society's 2019 Conference will be held in Denver, Colorado in June at a time when our country is in great natural and man-made turbulence. Perhaps touring and measuring Sundials will once again help us better understand how to cope with human and planetary movement that sometimes appears uncontrollable.

(For more information about the North American Sundial Society go to: http://www.sundials.org/)

SKY WATCH MARCH 2019

This night, the eleventh of March

She comes out from hiding

The sky is crystal clear, not a cloud intrudes

Winds turn soft almost murmuring as if to acknowledge 

Even a slice of moon delights us and tells us Spring is on the way!

DO WE CREATE OUR OWN WALLS?

Sometimes I have my supper in a small restaurant near me.  Generally there is no specified seating nor is there a host or hostess to seat customers.  People pretty much go to a table with friends.  Sometimes
a customer will go to another table with strangers where there is room for others.  When this happens there is a good chance to get to know people I might not know otherwise.

That was the situation I was in a few weeks ago when I sat down with two women of color.  We chatted in an amicable way and then they told me they were waiting for another friend.  I offered to leave but they wanted me to stay.  I did  and we found a number of things to talk about.

We seemed to be enjoying ourselves until their friend arrived. It was clear to me their friend seemed annoyed with my presence so I excused myself and left.

Afterward, I wondered what had annoyed their friend who I also knew. Was it because I was of another color?  Was it because they simply wanted to have a private conversation?  Or was it because I imagined an anger displayed toward me?  I don't know.  What I do know is that we were at table with four women who might have enjoyed an evening together had we not allowed anger or anxiety to place a wall between us.

I thought too about the precious time we spend building walls when we are with people with whom we could share so much, yet in a mistaken effort to protect ourselves we create our own wall.

MY "WHAT IF" AWARD

There are more awards in America than you can count.  There are book awards, thousand  points of light awards and cooking awards.  Because of something that happened here recently I want to create the "WHAT IF AWARD" for  people who have the ability to call into play experience  and action when things do not go as planned or are not neatly outlined in job specification.

I live in a ten-story apartment building.  On each floor there are about ten apartments with just two some-time working elevators.  People who live here range in age from job holders to retirees who are  mid-life and older.  Most are mobile.  Some use walkers.  Some are in  wheelchairs.

On one of the coldest nights of this long winter both our elevators went kaput.  Some people were stranded coming into the building.  Some residents were stranded in the drafty lobby at a function that was taking place.  Only one member of our full-time management staff, our director of community services was on duty and about to leave for the day.  Our maintenance chief had just pulled out of the drive way toward home.

When the elevators broke down our maintenance chief turned around and came back to work.  The director of community services took off her coat, grabbed some chips, cookies and water and distributed them to residents who did not walk up the steps but stayed in the lobby.  Within a few minutes the fire department and local police arrived to assist with people who needed help.

The next morning the elevators worked. Our staff was weary. Residents talked of the help they received from people who extended themselves even when things did not go as planned. For this, I give them all
my "WHAT IF AWARD."