Hiding deep in a recent newspaper – away from all the major stories – was a major story.
The article told how the most painful event in Taiwan's modern history is on display in two museums and a park in Taipei, the capital.
The complex depicts “the 228 incident” that occurred Feb. 28, 1947. Then Taiwan was governed by the Kuomintang – ‘nationalists’ engaged in a struggle with Mao Zedong’s communists for mainland China -- (a struggle lost in 1949).
In response to 1947 demonstrations by Taiwan citizens, Nationalist troops were brought from the mainland to squelch protestors.
They killed between 18,000 and 28,000 people, launching a campaign against Nationalist opponents, principally Communists, that lasted until martial law was lifted in 1987.
The 228 complex is an acknowledgement of an atrocity.
The Kuomintang still governs Taiwan. It was the villain here.
What if we were to acknowledge all the atrocities committed by our government?
The decimation of Native Americans.
The World War II interments of Japanese (and German and Italian) citizens.
Troops squelching strikes.
And slavery. And Jim Crow.
And private prisons and the incarceration of immigrants.
There are more stains on our heritage than confederate flags. None of them should be glorified or justified but all of them should be acknowledged. We would be better for it. Perhaps even less arrogant and self righteous.
Just a thought.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Monday, July 6, 2015
Nursery Logs
While on a trip with four of my friends, I took a shuttle bus to a Vancouver, British Columbia park – Capilano, a rain forest. I got there early, before the masses. A solitary guide, Katy, stood by the entrance to a walk around a pond.
She led me around the little body of water, introducing me to its wonders: ferns, salmonberries, and a nursery log.
Fallen to the forest floor, the remains of a magnificent tree had become the breeding ground for future life. Look closely and you can see the beginnings of redwoods, and pines and ferns and salmonberries.
Wandering off to other parts of the park, I saw other nursery logs – reminders of the amazing cycles of life and death that surround us. All the time. And it’s all good. And still too sad.
Many of my dearest friends are dying. So many of them from some form of cancer. Others, from Parkinson’s or some insidious form of dementia. I guess we/they are old enough – whatever that means. But it still seems wrong, unjust, unfair and far too sad.
She led me around the little body of water, introducing me to its wonders: ferns, salmonberries, and a nursery log.
Fallen to the forest floor, the remains of a magnificent tree had become the breeding ground for future life. Look closely and you can see the beginnings of redwoods, and pines and ferns and salmonberries.
Wandering off to other parts of the park, I saw other nursery logs – reminders of the amazing cycles of life and death that surround us. All the time. And it’s all good. And still too sad.
And not sad. It occurs to me that we are each an amalgam of all that we learn from each other, and from the places we visit. Each of us is a nursery log – sprouting the ideas, words, smiles, tears and laughter that others have shared. And each of us is richer for it. Each of us – in some way – perpetuates the lives of those we love. It’s just more fun when we can see their faces
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Gift of a Grizzly
Thursday, May 28, I was one week into a trip with four friends I known for nearly 40 years. We had already seen countless splendors – rainforest in Vancouver, majestic mountains, waterfalls, eagles, elk, osprey, black bears.
That Thursday was the first day we crossed the apex (we would cross it several times as our bus route wound up and down mountain roads) a point from which water flows in three directions – to the Pacific, the Arctic and the Atlantic.
Just before lunch we had walked on the Columbia glacier – marveled at the pale blue water of its melting and were appalled by the fact that it (like other glaciers) was only a fraction of its earlier size … an ending supply of water for North America.
Moving on down the Icefield Parkway on a day that had already overwhelmed us with beauty, someone on our bus spotted the grizzly.
Mike, our driver-guide, pulled to the side of the road. Everyone watched in wonder as the awesome creature moved closer. Just out of hibernation, he kept his head down, feeding, while trotting toward the highway – so big, so graceful – golden in the afternoon sun.
What a gift – to glimpse his magnificence.
The waning hope of this planet is that, somehow, glaciers and grizzlies endure.
That Thursday was the first day we crossed the apex (we would cross it several times as our bus route wound up and down mountain roads) a point from which water flows in three directions – to the Pacific, the Arctic and the Atlantic.
Just before lunch we had walked on the Columbia glacier – marveled at the pale blue water of its melting and were appalled by the fact that it (like other glaciers) was only a fraction of its earlier size … an ending supply of water for North America.
Moving on down the Icefield Parkway on a day that had already overwhelmed us with beauty, someone on our bus spotted the grizzly.
Mike, our driver-guide, pulled to the side of the road. Everyone watched in wonder as the awesome creature moved closer. Just out of hibernation, he kept his head down, feeding, while trotting toward the highway – so big, so graceful – golden in the afternoon sun.
What a gift – to glimpse his magnificence.
The waning hope of this planet is that, somehow, glaciers and grizzlies endure.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Argentinean Flamingoes
As we pulled out of town toward Jasper National Park, Mike,
our bus driver (who was expert at spotting wildlife) called our attention to
the “Argentinean Flamingo” atop a telephone pole.
In unison, 49 of us leaned right and did indeed see a
curvaceous pink form aloft.
None of us thought it was indigenous to Alberta, Canada.
49 pairs of eyes bored into the back of Mike’s head.
He explained. Osprey build their nests near water on a high
perches -- the telephone pole was right by a little river. Every year they come back, adding more
material to the nest. It can get pretty messy. And that, in turn, can
thoroughly screw up telephone calls.
Many experts, with all due environmental, ecological and
biological consideration, sought solutions. Some proposed elaborate (and
expensive) devices to discourage osprey from building nests atop telephone
poles.
One line repairman had another idea. He went to Home Depot
and bought a plastic pink flamingo for $10 Canadian. He placed it atop the
telephone pole. Problem solved. No nest.
Elsewhere on our Canadian journey, we saw an osprey nest
atop a pole specifically designed to hold an osprey nest. The chick resting
inside seemed pleased. And the nearby telephone line was unscathed.
Would that all dilemmas could be solved so simply.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Stealth Cat
It was obvious that I needed to take my cat Guinness to the vet. I wasn’t sure about Herbie but I thought he should be checked out.
After confirming that the cats were elsewhere, I closed the doors to my bedroom, the study, the TV room, and the guest room. I hauled the cat carriers up from the basement. I enlisted my neighbor to assist in capture and transport.
About half an hour before our appointment, my neighbor, Eldon, arrived and we began the capture process.
Predictably, Herbie was easy. I lifted him into his carrier and closed it.
Now for Guinness. He had run upstairs when Eldon arrived. Since all visitors spook Guinness, Eldon went upstairs to herd him to the first floor. But Guinness was nowhere to be found upstairs. The only open room was the bathroom and Eldon checked behind and in every possible hiding place.
In past searches, Guinness has been found in the laundry room cupboard (the cupboard door doesn’t latch so he paws it open and slips in before it closes). He wasn’t there. Not in the floor level cupboards or the ones above the sink.
So we checked the kitchen cupboards. They don’t latch either. He wasn’t there. We checked the pantry and all its shelves. He wasn't there.
He wasn’t under the couch or in the fireplace nook in the living room. Sometimes the cats slip behind the books in the bookcases. We pushed all the books back. He wasn’t there.
We re-checked the upstairs bathroom – the downstairs bathroom – the kitchen – the pantry – the laundry room. He wasn’t anywhere. We checked again. We even checked the rooms that had had closed doors. He wasn’t there.
Herbie was crying. I let him out of his carrier. We told him to find Guinness but I don’t think he was interested. Anyway, he didn’t.
I called the vet to say that we would be late. I called my Pilates teacher to say I might not make it to class. We re-checked everything. Guinness wasn’t there.
We kept asking ourselves, “How can one cat outsmart two relatively intelligent humans?” We gave up. I offered to make some tea. Eldon helped me hang a picture. I served the tea.
We were sitting at the dining room table sipping tea when there was a resounding thump in the laundry room as Guinness jumped down onto the dryer. He had been inside a cardboard carton on the top shelf in the laundry room.
But now he was out in the open. He dashed toward the stairs. I caught him and, with Eldon’s help, got him into the carrier. Then I retrieved Herbie and put him in his carrier and we went to the vet.
We were only an hour late.
After confirming that the cats were elsewhere, I closed the doors to my bedroom, the study, the TV room, and the guest room. I hauled the cat carriers up from the basement. I enlisted my neighbor to assist in capture and transport.
About half an hour before our appointment, my neighbor, Eldon, arrived and we began the capture process.
Predictably, Herbie was easy. I lifted him into his carrier and closed it.
Now for Guinness. He had run upstairs when Eldon arrived. Since all visitors spook Guinness, Eldon went upstairs to herd him to the first floor. But Guinness was nowhere to be found upstairs. The only open room was the bathroom and Eldon checked behind and in every possible hiding place.
In past searches, Guinness has been found in the laundry room cupboard (the cupboard door doesn’t latch so he paws it open and slips in before it closes). He wasn’t there. Not in the floor level cupboards or the ones above the sink.
So we checked the kitchen cupboards. They don’t latch either. He wasn’t there. We checked the pantry and all its shelves. He wasn't there.
He wasn’t under the couch or in the fireplace nook in the living room. Sometimes the cats slip behind the books in the bookcases. We pushed all the books back. He wasn’t there.
We re-checked the upstairs bathroom – the downstairs bathroom – the kitchen – the pantry – the laundry room. He wasn’t anywhere. We checked again. We even checked the rooms that had had closed doors. He wasn’t there.
Herbie was crying. I let him out of his carrier. We told him to find Guinness but I don’t think he was interested. Anyway, he didn’t.
I called the vet to say that we would be late. I called my Pilates teacher to say I might not make it to class. We re-checked everything. Guinness wasn’t there.
We kept asking ourselves, “How can one cat outsmart two relatively intelligent humans?” We gave up. I offered to make some tea. Eldon helped me hang a picture. I served the tea.
We were sitting at the dining room table sipping tea when there was a resounding thump in the laundry room as Guinness jumped down onto the dryer. He had been inside a cardboard carton on the top shelf in the laundry room.
But now he was out in the open. He dashed toward the stairs. I caught him and, with Eldon’s help, got him into the carrier. Then I retrieved Herbie and put him in his carrier and we went to the vet.
We were only an hour late.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Morning News
In our local paper, the weather, ‘Dear Abby’, Horoscopes and ‘Today in History’ are published on the same page. Always interesting, the history factoids are sometimes amazing.
For example -- on May 5, 1945, six people in Oregon were killed by a Japanese balloon bomb – the only war fatalities on the North American continent.
Beginning in 1944, Japan launched more than 9,000 huge rice paper balloons filled with hydrogen and carrying explosive devices. Transported by the jet stream, these were designed to explode along the west coast causing mass destruction and forest fires. Only about 1,000 reached North America. And only one was deadly.
On May 5, Rev. Archie Mitchell and his pregnant wife Elsie drove up to Orgeon’s Gearhart Mountain with five of their Sunday school students to have a picnic. Elsie and the kids got out of the car to look for a good picnic spot while Archie drove on to find a place to park. The kids spotted the balloon lying on the ground and when they approached it, it exploded, instantly killing Elsie and Dick Patzke, 14; Jay Gifford, 13; Edward Engen, 13; Joan Patzke, 13; and Sherman Shoemaker, 11.
A memorial, the Mitchell Monument, is located at the point of the explosion. Several Japanese civilians have visited the monument to offer their apologies for the deaths that took place there, and several cherry trees have been planted around the monument as a symbol of peace.
Not only are the factoids themselves interesting, the juxtaposition among the factoids is fascinating. On the same day that six people died in Oregon, Denmark and the Netherlands were liberated as a German surrender went into effect. And in 1934, the first Three Stooges short was released.
After listing 'Today's Birthdays', The ‘Today in History’ column always ends with a ‘Thought for Today’. On May 5, it was from Hermann Hesse: “Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.”
Amen
For example -- on May 5, 1945, six people in Oregon were killed by a Japanese balloon bomb – the only war fatalities on the North American continent.
Beginning in 1944, Japan launched more than 9,000 huge rice paper balloons filled with hydrogen and carrying explosive devices. Transported by the jet stream, these were designed to explode along the west coast causing mass destruction and forest fires. Only about 1,000 reached North America. And only one was deadly.
On May 5, Rev. Archie Mitchell and his pregnant wife Elsie drove up to Orgeon’s Gearhart Mountain with five of their Sunday school students to have a picnic. Elsie and the kids got out of the car to look for a good picnic spot while Archie drove on to find a place to park. The kids spotted the balloon lying on the ground and when they approached it, it exploded, instantly killing Elsie and Dick Patzke, 14; Jay Gifford, 13; Edward Engen, 13; Joan Patzke, 13; and Sherman Shoemaker, 11.
A memorial, the Mitchell Monument, is located at the point of the explosion. Several Japanese civilians have visited the monument to offer their apologies for the deaths that took place there, and several cherry trees have been planted around the monument as a symbol of peace.
Not only are the factoids themselves interesting, the juxtaposition among the factoids is fascinating. On the same day that six people died in Oregon, Denmark and the Netherlands were liberated as a German surrender went into effect. And in 1934, the first Three Stooges short was released.
After listing 'Today's Birthdays', The ‘Today in History’ column always ends with a ‘Thought for Today’. On May 5, it was from Hermann Hesse: “Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.”
Amen
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Never Brag
Last October I posted a blog entitled ‘Personal Ad’. In it, I itemized my attributes (a short list) and my less attractive features (a long list).
Among the attributes I cited were good teeth and hair.
Ah well.
I’ve always been a little proud of my hair – like the girl with natural curls in the ‘Peanuts’ cartoon strip. Now it seems that that hair is thinning. Mostly on top. Comb-overs don’t work. I got some ‘bodifying’ shampoo and some stuff you sprinkle on to cover the gaps. It will have to do.
Even last October, I said my hair was ‘okay’ … not amazing. I must have known then that my locks were failing.
But as I cited my faults – being near-sighted, hard of hearing, overweight, and borderline diabetic-- I repeatedly affirmed that “my teeth are good.”
Never write things like that. You are just tempting fate … or something.
When I went to the dentist last week, I was informed that one tooth will have to go. Fortunately, it is toward the rear of my mouth so when it’s extracted I won’t look I belong in the ‘Li’l Abner’ comic strip (does anyone still remember that?). But still there will be a gap (unless I pay $4,000 for an implant, which is not likely).
In my defense, it’s a ‘baby’ tooth. And it’s remarkable that it has lasted as many decades as it has (I refuse to enumerate).
And the rest of my teeth are still okay. I hope. I dare not say more.
Among the attributes I cited were good teeth and hair.
Ah well.
I’ve always been a little proud of my hair – like the girl with natural curls in the ‘Peanuts’ cartoon strip. Now it seems that that hair is thinning. Mostly on top. Comb-overs don’t work. I got some ‘bodifying’ shampoo and some stuff you sprinkle on to cover the gaps. It will have to do.
Even last October, I said my hair was ‘okay’ … not amazing. I must have known then that my locks were failing.
But as I cited my faults – being near-sighted, hard of hearing, overweight, and borderline diabetic-- I repeatedly affirmed that “my teeth are good.”
Never write things like that. You are just tempting fate … or something.
When I went to the dentist last week, I was informed that one tooth will have to go. Fortunately, it is toward the rear of my mouth so when it’s extracted I won’t look I belong in the ‘Li’l Abner’ comic strip (does anyone still remember that?). But still there will be a gap (unless I pay $4,000 for an implant, which is not likely).
In my defense, it’s a ‘baby’ tooth. And it’s remarkable that it has lasted as many decades as it has (I refuse to enumerate).
And the rest of my teeth are still okay. I hope. I dare not say more.
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