Farewell 2019

--WHEW-- What a year!

All I can say of 2019 is this: I am glad it's almost over!

A house divided

There is little less--actually nothing more--disappointing than discovering a sibling supports Donald Trump. And that this sibling thinks the impeachment trial nothing more than a waste of time and money. Instead of seeing Trump as the traitor he is, the view held here is that Nancy Pelosi is a criminal.

I guess the fact that the Donald has no love for us, only he and his own selfish self-centered needs; the fact that Donald has betrayed our country, our allies, and worst of all, every single American; the fact that he is a spiteful, vengeful, petty little man; the fact he demeans his detractors, his so-called enemies, foreigners, women, the disabled, and gays (and anyone who is a "neverTrumper").

Remember his holiday greetings a few years back? "Happy New Year to all, including to my many enemies and those who have fought me and lost so badly they just don't know what to do. Love!" This is the mentality of the man. What kind of leader says something so hateful? And who and why would someone follow someone so petty?

He thinks he knows better than us, he thinks he is smarter than everyone else (just ask him about wind turbines) and has no moral compunction about walking on our backs to get to what he desires. Just ask all the businesses, all the people, he has destroyed.

I guess these things make no difference. Needless to say, I am seriously disheartened that about half of my siblings are so misinformed, and seem to be happily so.

If this were any other person, I would say everyone is entitled to their [stupid] opinion, no matter how wrong, but this is not just anybody. This is a sibling whose opinion I care about, and it saddens me deeply about this turn of events.

For strangers, this would be easy. I do not owe someone I do not know anything, but a family member? How do you deal with someone you hold in regard? I won't mince words, this hurts.

I honestly do not know how this will turn out.

Your vote counts

Tomorrow (by noon) is the end of early voting here in St. Joseph County and Election Day is Tuesday. I urge, no, I beg you to get out and vote!

I have not missed voting in an election since 1976, I even voted long distance from Afghanistan in the 2008 election. I used to view presidential elections as the only ones that really count, but I have come to view that as an incredibly misguided notion, and I think we Democrats are slowly wising up to that idea as well.

Through the past few decades, the Republican Party has made inroads taking over small towns and school boards across this nation. Think about this, a recent poll said people who call themselves Republicans view public education with growing disdain. Republicans call colleges a 'breeding ground for liberalism,' and a threat to traditional American values.

But I digress. In St. Joseph County, and many other locales here in Indiana, battleground elections for a number of mayoral and community will be decided.

I have been a voting poll worker since 2010, and I have noted one fact that deeply disturbs me. Election turnout is pitiful. In our primary election earlier this year, not even 30% of the eligible voters could be bothered to show up.

One of my coworkers at Barnes & Noble told me a few weeks back she has not voted since Bush v. Kerry in the 2004 election. First off, my jaw was fractured when it hit the floor. After I pushed her for a why, she said, "I don't care. They're all the same." At that point, I banged my head against the wall. If anyone truly thinks the Democrats and the Republicans are just alike, they are clearly NOT paying attention. And if one accepts that thought, it is clear the Democrats are not getting their message out.

I feel a great deal is riding on this election, and doubly so next year! I think it imperative that as many people show up this Tuesday and again, especially next year. If you think the two parties are exactly alike, you must educate yourself. Look for some non-partisan websites discussing where the two parties stand.

As a St. Joseph County voting judge, I cannot steer you in one political party's direction or the other, and I surely need not say one word on which party I believe has the average Joe's best interests to heart.

So... instead of telling you who to vote for, I merely say get out there and VOTE!

Honoring our fallen

I have run, maybe, a dozen 5 and 10k races (two mini-marathons and one marathon) in my life, and I can honestly say today’s 5k had me all choked up on numerous occasions. The Tunnel 2 Tower 5k is run in memory of the firemen and first responders who died in the line of duty on September 11, 2001.

Hundreds, if not thousands of the runners/walkers represented the five branches of the Armed Services and veterans, police, firefighters and first responders. Thousands more were corporate, special interest organizations, and non profits such as the Sheep Dog Impact Assistance, the group for whom I represented today. And still thousands more, all were there to honor fallen heroes.

At the start of the race we stood near one of the Fire Engines Firehouse) that sent their teams to the World Trade Center that morning.

Near the end of the race, for at least a mile, on both sides of the street stood firemen and firemen in full dress uniforms holding banners with a photo and name of a fallen policeman or firefighter. I shook the hands of what seemed like nearly all of them as we passed them by.

A number of times we stopped to let some of our older members catch up with us. At one of those points I noticed a woman holding an obviously handmade placard with the photo of a fireman lost on 9/11. I asked her if he was a family member. She said he was her son.

There was no way I was moving forward without giving her a hug and a “I’m sorry for your loss.” (I am all teary-eyed recounting this poignant moment)

As we neared the finish, there were thousands of JROTC members, junior and high school kids, and countless other people from all walks of life present to cheer us on.

This is a race I wanted to run, but could not. I think I am making it my mission for next year.

Many races are run for the sake of sport. This one comes from the heart and soul of New Yorkers who will never let us forget.

Cokie Roberts: A paragon

Do you have heroes? Sure, we all do.

As a kid, my heroes typically was astronauts, my Grandparents, and my uncles, and especially my parents. In later years as I matured, my heroes were writers, especially journalists. How could I not? My generation had David Brinkley, Chet Huntley, David Chancellor, Howard K. Smith, Harry Reasoner. Roger Mudd, Dan Rather, and at the top of the heap, the venerable Walter Cronkite, often called the most trusted man in America.

In the 1980s to the present, the news has been delivered to us by Jane Pauley, Barbara Walters, David Muir, Hugh Downs, Diane Sawyer, Tom Brokaw, Gwen Ifill, Lesley Stahl, Andrea Mitchell, Judy Woodruff, and Peter Jennings.

News reporters were my guiding light. Journalists inspired me. A few years back I ran into Mike Collins, a longtime local news anchor, at our store (Barnes & Noble). I sheepishly walked up to him and told him how much he had inspired me to become a Navy journalist.

In subsequent years, one name I grew to admire and respect was NPR/ABC News' reporter-anchor-commentator Cokie Roberts. I was introduced to her as a member of the team on ABC News This Week with David Brinkley, George Will, and Sam Donaldson. She later co-anchored the program with Sam Donaldson after Brinkley retired.

Years later, I was pleased to learn she also was a commentator on NPR. and delighted any time she contributed.

Cokie died today from breast cancer at the age of 75.

In my view, Roberts was brilliant. She was insightful. She was relentless and fearless. She was funny and her wit was sharp yet gentle. Above all, she was a consummate professional. She made it all look easy when questioning the politicians who found themselves on the receiving end of her demands for answers.

She said in a recent interview she would like to be remembered as a mother, a wife and a friend to those for whom she cared. I do not think she will be forgotten by any who cherish unbiased, integrity-based journalism.

I deeply mourned Walter Cronkite's passing in 2009. His death hit me hard. No one lives forever, but I think I will feel as deep a sorrow for Roberts' passing as I did for Cronkite.

Roberts is survived by her husband Steven, her daughter Rebecca, son Lee and their six grandchildren.

Remembering Sean

Have you ever met someone on Facebook who you felt you knew personally? Sean and I became good friends eight or nine years ago and I loved the connection we made. We often talked and we kept promising to meet someday.

I can imagine you know where this is heading. All too often, there is a bad thing about somedays and the tomorrows that never come.

Sean became ill with cancer and after his valiant effort of fighting it, he passed away January 1, 2014.

I always dread today for it is his birthday and I am thinking of him.

I miss you, my friend.

An epidemic of violence

In one of my threads on my Facebook page, it was suggested that too many people are pointing fingers about the epidemic of gun violence plaguing America. Alas, I do not see any way but pointing fingers.

The NHS (National Health Services) has wanted to do research on gun violence for decades. Now, maybe we're all sick to death of yet one more study. What's to study? Guns kill people. Okay, okay, people with guns kill people.

A lot of people say mental health is a driving issue of gun violence. It sure is, how can anyone in their right mind wantonly take the life of another?

So if mental health is an issue, let the NHS do their job and study it, BUT the GOP/NRA partnership has for years shut down funding for that. The Democrats have repeatedly attempted to revive the Brady Bill. Again, the GOP/NRA has shut that down. Opponents say there are no needs for more background checks. If the current system of background checks aren't doing the job, this needs to be looked at. Too many people have "legally" slipped through the cracks. You all have surely seen the memes that say it is easier to purchase guns and ammunition than it is to get certain prescription (opiates).

It seems to me, there should be certain controls that raise a flag when someone buys thousands and thousands of rounds of ammunition or large numbers of guns. Seriously, I don't recall the particular case, but I remember the killer of one recent mass killing had just prior to his deed, bought 6,000 rounds of ammunition. 6,000 rounds? Just how many deer did they think going to kill (that's sarcasm, folks)?

And who needs an AK-47 or other assault-style rifles. Don't give me the schtick that some people want it for hunting. Yeah? Hunting humans because no hunter worth their salt hunts with a weapon that is best left in the hands of members of our Armed Forces or police (and don't even get me started on some police over the top actions, which is best left for a totally separate conversation).

I do not think someone "nonchalantly" walking into a gun shop should be walking out. Yes, I know that is not quite how it works, but I do think in some cases, it is far too easy for someone to buy a gun.

I know some people cringe when I suggest this, but I still think gun ownership should entail mandatory gun training (annually?) and ownership insurance. It works for car ownership, why not for guns (and I don't care if auto ownership is not a second amendment issue)?

Today, it is illegal to advertise smoking cigarettes on television. Same goes for the sales of hard liquor. I think the same should be said for gun sales.

Personally, I do not think the Second Amendment is sacrosanct. I also do not think it means what some gun advocates wants it to mean. What part of a "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed." means everyone who wants a gun should have one? If gun ownership means "well regulated militia," then go join the Armed Forces.

AND, why oh why, does a second amendment right override my/our right to the pursuit of life and liberty?

It is estimated that there are 393,347,000 guns in America, and that is only an estimate. Again, there are no concrete figures because the GOP/NRA has blocked serious study. Incidentally, the population of the USA is 326,474,000, which means there are more guns here than there are people.

I do not dispute that gun ownership for hunting and home protection is a protected right. I believe "stand your ground" laws make killing too easy. I believe gun laws need to be more consistent from state to state. Personally, I do not think someone should be allowed to buy a gun in a state that they do not reside (one of the recent killers from California purchased his guns in Nevada). I do not see anything wrong with more strict background checks and longer waiting periods.

One can argue that there are plenty of roadblocks in place now. Perhaps. But something is not working. We should not be seeing news reports of daily mass shootings. Why is it that in no country in the world do we read of their citizens performing gun acts of violence as occur here? Are the mass killings that have been happening to us on an increasing frequency the new normal? Are schools, hospitals, workplaces, shopping centers, churches, etc., to now be the accepted sites for target practice?

Whatever the answers are to stop this epidemic, we are clearly not doing it. Thoughts and prayers are not actions, they are nothing more than patting one's self on the back for a polite Christian response. "Business as usual is not a response. It is a moral shirking of our duties to protect the ones we love. I say...

Enough is enough!

 

A life led by example

Flowers Jenkins has passed away. Who, you ask? Flowers was one of the finest men I have had the privilege to know. When I started working at the food pantry seven and a half years ago, Flowers was one of the first people I met there. Like many of the volunteers at our pantry, Flowers was in his 80s (I am the youngest member of our pantry's staff). 

Flowers, an African-American man, was one of the most Christian people I have ever known. He lived the principles of Christ's teachings. He volunteered his time, energy, and presence at our pantry for the first six years I've been there, but his service certainly predated me by at least five or six years. His dedication to helping others was paramount.

Quick to wit, smart as a tack, funny, insightful, he was very astute to people's character. 

Flowers loved bringing in articles about the 50s and 60s civil rights movement of which he and his lovely wife were intimately involved. He also shared pages and pages of jokes, most of them corny, but don't we all need a good laugh (and a groaner) at times?

Flowers served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War, and with thanks to President Truman's executive order ending racial segregation in the Armed Forces, he served our nation as an Army officer.

Every week that I saw him, he always asked about my week. We shared stories of our military service (at the time we met, I was still in the Navy). 

Early last year, Flowers left our staff, he and his wife moved to Chicagoland to be closer to their children. He was a great family man and he was a humble father and l loved hearing him speak of his children of whom he was very proud. I only met his wife a few times, but she was always as kind as her husband. 

I thought them the perfect model for a happy marriage, and to be honest, I envied them both.

This morning when I was at the church office, Lou Anne, our church's manager, let me know Flowers died on Sunday. His wife had left a voicemail last night. We all were stunned as he had not heard he was ill. I was then given the unhappy task of letting our staff know of his passing. 

I will miss Flowers and honor his commitment to helping those less fortunate. He was a good man, a very good man, and I can only hope to measure up to the standards he set for himself. Those of us who had worked with him will miss him dearly.

God bless you, Flowers. I think the world will be less kind with your passing.

Pulling the rug out from beneath our feet

I have been a Methodist most of my adult life. I was married in the Methodist Church in 1975 when I was but 17 years old. I found faith there for nearly ten years before moving away. Experiencing a crisis of faith in the 1980s, I walked away in shame and hurt, feeling I was no longer wanted.

In the intervening years, I felt that missing part of my life was beckoning, something I largely kept at bay out of the fear of rejection.

In 1997, I officially met the most wonderful, loving and inspirational pastor of my life. Reverend Mary Hubbard was the pastor for Central United Methodist Church. Unofficially, I had met her on World AIDS Day in 1989 at a candlelit ceremony at the original Central UMC. 

I am not a good Methodist, I am not a good Christian. I don't believe in the Bible. Sometimes I do not believe in God. Sometimes I feel I am a breath away from being an atheist. Like Fox Mulder's poster "I want to believe," I find the want is more than a feeling I have experienced.

Today I am feeling anger and worst of all, hurt and betrayal.

Mary Hubbard baptized me not so long before I was mobilized to Kuwait in 2005, and like a dear friend of mine, Marilyn Kruger, a devout Methodist and a pastor in her own right, both helped lead me down a road of acceptance. Like so many gays and lesbians, we have been brought up to hate who and what we are. 

God hates us, don't you know?

Not long after I separated from my wife in 1982, I found myself in the darkest of funks. Both Phyllis and I were hurting. We loved each other, but not in the ways we both deserved. I told Marilyn one night in a sort of confession that I was going to go to hell because of who I am. She was the first person who told me God loved me for who I am.

So for the short of this, I find myself angry at the developments at this week's United Methodist General Conference. Ever since I was a member at Central United Methodist Church, and now First United Methodist, I have held out hope that my church would come to its senses and welcome its gay and lesbian parishioners and join other faiths and fully embrace us--including its gay and lesbian pastors.

Both Central UMC and (more recently) the First UMC were members of a movement in the United Methodist conference, a movement called 'a church of reconciling faith.' In a nutshell, the movement is an effort to work from within to lead an unwilling church to become a more inclusive religious body.

Today was a huge setback--one that has the power to split the church asunder.

If you did not know this, Methodist pastors can be brought up on disciplinary charges and even fired for performing same-sex wedding ceremonies--or for being gay themselves. A number of Methodist pastors have bravely tried to fly in face of these dangers. Reverend Greg Dell of Chicago's Broadway Methodist Church was nearly destroyed for his brave stance. He was the first Methodist pastor to be charged and convicted of violating church procedures in 1999.

Now 20 years later, and even though marriage equality is the law of the land here in America. Methodist pastors are still forbidden to perform marriage ceremonies. My pastor Mary Hubbard has been on the side of marriage equality for as long as I have known her.

She was virtually run off from Central UMC when she repeatedly told our church council that as much as she wanted to fully administer to our congregation (which was 90% gay and lesbian), she felt she could not and still have a career.

Again, 20 years later my pastor still cannot fully administer to her flock. This week's conference could have put an end to this. But no, my church has decided to not embrace a loving future for all of its members and staff.

And still, my church has decided I and my brothers and sisters are not worthy of God's love. Earlier today, while I was working at the food pantry, I had a number of conversations about this topic. One of my friends told me she feared this would split the church apart. I think that is a fair claim.

My church is beginning to feel like the promised land being denied to the Jewsand a rug being pulled from beneath my feet. I am reminded of a movie line, "I wish I knew how to quit you." If it were only so easy.

I told another of my colleagues that if I were ever lucky enough to marry, I would want MY minister to officiate, leading us through our vows; I want to marry in MY church; and to marry in front of my church family.

Today, my church said no.

Remembering Rodney

Last week I told you all how saddened we all were learning that our colleague from the food pantry had died the previous weekend. Today I learned how and where he died.

It appears Rodney was walking down Michigan Street late Saturday night and he stopped by a closed convenience store, sat down and leaned against a dumpster. He was inebriated, he fell asleep and never woke up. He froze to death in his sleep. He was found Sunday afternoon.

If there is any light in this awful tragedy, it is that he probably felt no pain as he succumbed to the winter cold, but as I feared, he died alone. I am in tears as I remember, in spite of this personal failing, what a good man Rodney was. God rest his soul.

Since there were no services held for him, those of us who loved him intend to hold some sort of private memorial gathering at a date to later be determined. 

I don’t know if there is a heaven. If there is, Rodney, I know you are there. If there is not, at the very least, I can say you made a difference while you were here, you were loved and shall not be forgotten.

Happy New Year? Remembering a friend

I would have preferred to start off this year with something more fun. Instead...

I was deeply saddened to learn that someone "in our family" passed away Sunday. Rodney Hetzell was part of our church family at the First United Methodist Church Food Pantry. I have known Rodney for nearly as long as I have been a volunteer at our church (seven years in February).

Not only was he a faithful helper at the pantry, but he regularly attended church services, often talking about one of Pastor Mary Hubbard's homilies.

Rodney deeply cared for the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. I sincerely doubt he would have considered himself disadvantaged. Why else would a homeless person work so diligently for others?

Rodney was 51 years old--and homeless (but still found it in his heart to help the pantry). He was a bundle of energy. I don't know of what Rodney died but I am guessing his inner demons (alcohol) finally overtook him. He just could not escape the drink.

Rodney stopped by the church a few days before his death looking for a place to stay. In the end, he was able to secure a stay at a local shelter for one night only. He recently mentioned he had slept on the streets one night last week.

I will remember his sense of humor. One of his favorite things to do was when he, Maggie and I went to the Northern Indiana Food Bank for our weekly purchases was to find some extraordinarily odd item. One week it would seaweed pasta, the next pigs' feet, or some other odious food item, knowing full well the items might end up on our shelves for weeks before some brave soul would take them.

I kid you not that he found something odd every single week... and he would laugh his head off about it. He delighted in this and with it, we laughed too.

Rodney and I both worked for the county election boards. We had some interesting debates, with affectionate jabs at each other's political leanings.

Recently, Rodney broke his foot. He blamed it on his clumsiness but we all knew it was because he had drunk himself into a stupor. Many of us, Maggie, in particular, did everything we could to wean him off the drink, but as we all know, only the victim can do this--and they have to want it badly enough to do it.

He never got over the loss of his parents with whom he was close. Rodney had one estranged brother in Pittsburgh but they had not had anything to do with each other for years.

I weep knowing Rodney was all alone here (aside from his friends) and sadly, he was probably alone when he died.

Rodney may have been homeless, but his keen intellect and curiosity were boundless. Often I would find him looking at books or on a computer at the downtown library.

This morning at the pantry, we took a few moments to remember him. We all are saddened and mourn him most deeply.