A bit of history from The Writer's Almanac, Oct. 30, 2016

It's the birthday of the second president of the United States, John Adams, born in Braintree, Massachusetts (now part of Quincy, Massachusetts) (1735). He made a name for himself as a young man by arguing against the British right to tax the colonies. He was elected to the First Continental Congress in 1774, and began to argue that the British Parliament lacked any legal authority over the colonies. He quickly became the most respected advocate for breaking with Great Britain. People began to call him the "Atlas of Independence."

It was Adams who nominated Washington to serve as commander of the Continental Army, and it was Adams who chose Jefferson to write the Declaration of Independence. And it was he who persuaded the delegates from the colonies to adopt the resolution in favor of independence. He stood up on July 1, 1776, and spoke about independence, without notes, for about two hours. No one knows exactly what he said that day, because no one transcribed his words, but Thomas Jefferson later said, "[Adams spoke] with a power of thought and expression that moved us from our seats." The resolution was adopted the following day, on July 2, 1776. It was probably the greatest day of Adams's life.

Is Football Morally Bankrupt?

      Have you ever heard of Six Man Football?  I don't know if it exists anymore but that is what we played when I was in high school.  There is Eight Man Football in Minnesota, which, like Six Man, is designed for smaller schools.  In Six Man every player was an eligible receiver on offense and it had almost as much running as basketball.
       There was a time that I was a rabid Vikings fan.  It was in the days when Fran Tarkenton was quarterback.  It seemed that I lived and died with the Vikings fortunes.  Eventually I left football behind.
     Many charges have been brought against football.  On many university campuses the football coach is the highest paid employee earning much more than the president.  The distortion that football causes in higher education could be one avenue to pursue in answering "Is Football Morally Bankrupt?"
    Another possible indictment that could be used would be to cite the statistics of increased domestic violence during NFL games.  Similar to this argument is the trail of disorderly conduct caused by college and professional football players.
     A case could be made against football based on the tremendous expenditures on stadiums and other venues related to football. One could argue that schools, health care, road and bridges, etc., would be better uses for such money.
    Let's set that all aside, and, at least for the sake of argument agree that, while there is some weight to those arguments, they alone are not enough to convict football.  There is one more case to be made that, I believe, makes football morally bankrupt:  physical injuries.
   Organized football begins at the elementary school level and continues through junior and senior high.  An orthopedic surgeon once told me that much of his medical practice was sustained by football injuries.  He was speaking of pre-college football.  Young people are very resilient and usually heal from their football injuries.  However, we now know that concussions can have lasting and serious effects on the brain.  We also know that injuries from which young people have apparently healed often are the location of arthritic problems later in life.
     The sports pages are filled with articles about injuries to players at various levels; high school, college and professional.  Public reaction is muted, perhaps like the proverbial frog in the pot being heated on a burner, the reality has gradually crept up on us.  If any other public activity caused the injury and suffering that footballs does we'd be shocked.
     Football players make a choice, it is true.  But they begin before they have an adult conception of reality and the thrill of competition and adulation of the spectators is hard to resist.  If they experience success at one level they are pushed to continue and by the time they reach the college level they have a high likelihood of having sustained permanent physical harm.
    Football is inherently violent.  It is good that measures are taken to reduce the likelihood and severity of injury.  However, if these measures were adequate the sports pages would not be filled with columns of injury reports.  Physical injuries;  this is the reason that I believe football to be morally bankrupt and I cannot in good conscience be a spectator.

Recommended Reading

         Once more with feeling...perhaps is a good way to describe my second reading of The Last Farmer: An american Memoir, Howard Kohn, published in 1988.  It's been so many years since I first read this book that I remembered only the broad outlines.  Ah, the blessings of a short memory...I can re-read and enjoy a book as much as the first time because so much is forgotten.
        Howard Kohn, former senior editor of Rolling Stone and the author of Who Killed Karen Silkwood writes this reflection on his farmer father and his relationship with him.  Fredrick Kohn was a 3rd generation German American farmer in Michigan.

      "My father loved his farm, but her understood better than I the ironies implicit in passing on a farm in your own image.  The lands mocks the farmer by outlasting him and outlasting his family, no matter the number of successive generations.  The one thing of permanence that a father can bequeath---a life of respect and respectful virtues---will be rendered ironic and pathetic if he begins to act as if he is entitled to a bailout, whether from the government or from his children.  My father had to work at understanding this. It was not given. It was an achievement, like any work. I had thought of (Great-Grandfather) Heinrich as a pioneer, going off to a new land, and I had thought of my father as a stand-pat guy.  But I was my father who geared himself up for the bold stroke, who saw that the farm did not old us together, as I had thought, but stood between him and his children.  So he sold it and brought us back together, or rather had gone off to find us, all of us in our own places."

That was interesting!

  Out for a short afternoon walk with Trygve, the wonder dog, I was passing on a broad stretch of sidewalk between buildings when  I saw someone on a prayer rug in the Muslim prayer position. Standing over him was a person with a Trump tee shirt yelling abuse, slapping his head and kicking his legs. As I drew closer I could hear the abuser yelling "Get out of my country."   The young man on the prayer rug looked as if he might be African and his tormentor was Caucasian.
    As I challenged the attacker he backed away but continued the verbal abuse.  When I inquired  of the well being of the man on the prayer rug they 'fessed up'.  It was a social experiment to see if anyone passing by would intervene.  The funniest part was that the "attacker" was more intimidated by my dog than he was by me, though I was much larger than he.  What is so funny is that Trygve, while he weighs 60 lbs., is the least threatening dog ever.
    I regret that I din't spend more time in conversation with them but I think my adrenaline was too high and I just left.

Another Thought After Book Club

   "Participation in two book clubs keeps me reading.  One book club is in our old neighborhood and we read a wide variety of books.  The other book club focuses on history. Orphan Train, a novel by Christina Baker Kline was chosen by the neighborhood group but would also fit as history.
    "Between 1854 and 1929, so-called orphan trains transported more than two hundred thousand orphaned, abandoned, and homeless children...many of whom, like the character in this book, were first generation Irish Catholic immigrants...from the coastal cities of the eastern United States to the Midwest for "adoption"  which often turned out to be indentured servitude."  afterword p. 8
   The book is well written bringing  to light an important phase of  American life.  However, while it did reveal the difficulties many "orphans" suffered, in my opinion, it still went a bit light on how barbaric this experience could be.  Yet, I think it well worth reading."

   I wrote the above on a recent post.  Yesterday our book club had a good discussion of the book but after I got home theses thoughts occurred to me,

  We were all appalled at the reality of hundreds of thousands of children being treated in this manner. The book well illustrates the trauma and terrible situations in which many of the orphans were placed. The behavior of the workers who handled the children was roundly condemned.
   But, I think, there was one significant aspect of that situation that should have been named that we missed.  During those years the role of government was much smaller.  Today such a thing as an orphan train would be unthinkable, largely because of the role government plays in the welfare of children.
   In our current political climate there is much rhetoric about regulation and about the evils of big government.  Perhaps, but much of what government does is helpful.  As a dweller of a condo in the downtown of a city I am happy for regulations, e.g., you must pick up your dog poop,, that my brother living in the country would find intrusive and burdensome.  Government regulation of the welfare of children is now assumed and when government fails it is fodder for investigative reporting.  We should think carefully about what is good about government and that should also inform our attitude toward taxes...but that's a subject for a later blog.

Memories of a Typhoon (Hurricane)

    Hurricanes in the eastern hemisphere are called typhoons.  Having lived through one, all of the reporting of Hurricane Matthew brings back memories.  It's been a long time so some details escape me.
    It was during my time in the Marines and happened in 1961.  Our battalion left Camp Pendleton, CA in June and relocated to the Island of Okinawa, Japan.  We were stationed at Camp Suikran an army base on the southern end of the island.  The barracks were two stories high and made of poured concrete, so, quite secure in a typhoon.  So secure, in fact, that Marines living in Quonset hut barracks stayed with us for the duration of the storm.
   As storms go it was rather moderate with sustained winds slightly less than 100 mph. For about 24 hours the wind blew furiously from the south.  We all moved to the north side of the barracks away from the potential danger from broken windows.   Rather abruptly the wind died down and the sun came out as the eye of the storm passed over.  Then about 12 hours later the wind resumed from the north, lasted another 24 hours and then it was over.   There didn't seem to be much damage on base but civilian structures were a mess.
   When the storm approached all the Navy ships in the harbor put out to sea to ride it out.  I was in some storms at sea but never a typhoon.  It must have been some ride.
   We didn't go hungry during the storm  becasue each barracks was equipped with its own kitchen.  One company, consisting of  four platoons and support personnel, was housed in each building.  It was the only time I experienced company level dining and it was the least tasty food.  Usually dining was on the battalion level and the cooking was better.  However, Marine Corps food was never as good as the Navy's.  We always ate better when we ate with the Navy, for example, aboard ship. Marines never received the level of financial support as did the other branches of the military and that was demonstrated in Navy mess halls.

A Mixed Blessing

    Noble Academy, the Hmong charter school where I volunteer, has really grown.  When they were renting a building at 40th and Thomas in north Minneapolis space limited their enrollment to 800. Last year they moved to the new building they built in Brooklyn Park, just north of the village of Osseo.  Because they built for growth there were a number of empty rooms in the building.
    When I meet with my small group of students we leave their classroom and find a place where we can read audibly,  With all the empty rooms that was no problem last year.  Now the school has grown to a 1000 students and all the classrooms are occupied.  Therefore, I've gathered with my scholars at a table in the library.
    Meeting in the library has worked fairly well.  However, there are many times when entire classes come to use the library.  This has not distracted my students very much but with my compromised hearing, coupled with the student's soft voices, I often find it difficult to hear.
    This week my groups were moved into the library office and we can close the door.  Shutting out the noise was very helpful to me.  However,  the students behavior changed dramatically.  Suddenly they became all chatty.  While it is happy chatter it is a distraction from their task.
    We recently finished reading Yellow Fever; 1793, the same book I read with the 6th grade last year.  It is a historical novel based on a true epidemic that struck Philadelphia in 1793, a plague that killed 5000 people, 10% of the population.  Some of the characters in the book are actual people who lived in Philadelphia during that time.
    Now, their assignment is to write themselves into the story.  They have been doing research on the historical situation portrayed in the book.  Today it was time to begin their first draft of their story and the chatter was a distraction.  Finally I said "For the next 5 minutes no one may speak."   That worked wonders as they turned to the task at hand.  Repeating that practice several times gave a balance of time for interaction, which is important becasue they are encouraged to collaborate, and individual effort.
    They decided that they would also write each other into their essays.  The finished products will be quite delightful.
     While they were thinking about the research they'd done on 1793 suddenly one of them asked me if I remembered black and white photographs.  They were quite impressed that I was old enough for that.  Then she asked "What were shoes called when I was young?"   She was disappointed when I answered "shoes".   I am the oldest person any of them know.

Patience required

     There is a small piece of virgin prairie on some land we own in SD.  This land, 10-15 acres maybe?...has never been plowed because it is both hilly and rocky.  Previous owners fenced it for pasture.
     When we purchased it in 1992, two grasses made up 99% of the grass cover: Smooth Brome which is an import from Europe...possibly from Siberia...and Kentucky Bluegrass.  Neither of these grasses have much wildlife value, in part, becasue they are not stiff enough to stand up to winter snows. Enhancing wildlife habitat has always be an interest of mine.
   Because it is native prairie and becasue native grasses have more wildlife value I was interested in restoring those native grasses.  Plowing and replanting was not a feasible strategy because of the hills and rocks, besides, it would no longer be virgin prairie.   Burning, another restoration option, also isn't wise because it would be too difficult to control and keep the fire within proper bounds.
    Brome grass is an early spring grass, very aggressive and very difficult to eradicate and Bluegrass, also called June-grass, is also a spring grass.   Many of the native grasses are late summer grasses which is why they do not compete very well with Brome grass.  However, the early nature of the invasive grasses do provide a method of more natural control.
    The buffalo are long gone but other grazers are available to provide that control. A local farmer raises both sheep and cattle and he agreed to put his livestock in this pasture from early spring until the 1st of July.  For the first twelve years he used it as sheep pasture with one donkey included to protect the sheep from coyotes.  Big Bluestem, a late summer native grass that grows to six feet tall, gradually began to emerge.
    This summer the farmer pastured a large herd of cattle who did a more thorough job of eating down the invasive grasses.  This week I walked in that pasture and noted that the Big Blue Stem has made a significant comeback covering perhaps 25% of the ground. Other native grasses such as Indian Grass and Little Bluestem are also present.
    Patience is indeed required but it has been worth the wait.

Marlborough Man With a Big Heart

    Two abandoned farm building sites on our land in South Dakota provided, what the law considers, 'attractive nuisances'.  Trespassers are tempted to explore the old, abandoned buildings and if they are injured while doing so we could be held liable.  Both sites had long been unoccupied; one since 1969 and the other since 1991.
    At the 1969 site there was a small silo, barn foundation...I had burned the barn a few years ago on a cold winter day...two cisterns, an abandoned well, a small house, and an unattached garage.     The 1991 site had a house and a barn that had collapsed a few winters ago under the weight of snow.
    I engaged a local contractor, a few years younger than I...isn't everyone?... to do the work. He looks a bit like the Marlborough man.  He began at the 1969 site.  One day, after he had begun work, he stopped by my garage in town where I was working on a tractor.  He reported that he'd buried the cisterns, barn foundation and silo.  The hole for burying the house and garage was also dug but now he was waiting.  He said "The garage is full of barn swallow nests and the babies haven't left the nest yet.  I won't bury the garage until they have left the nest."   He didn't expect me to understand...but, I thanked him for it,  I said "I feel bad that they won't have that as a nesting site next year."
   When the barn swallows left the nest and he'd finished burying the house and garage he moved on to the 1991 place.  With his excavator he dug a huge hole by the barn and with his caterpillar (he once let me try out his caterpillar) pushed the barn in and covered it up.  Then he dug a hole by the house but, when he began to lift the house, a large raccoon fled through the roof.  When he shut off the motor of the excavator he could hear baby raccoons in the house.  He investigated and found they were newborns.   So he went to town and consulted a veterinarian who suggested he put them in a box in the tree grove to see if their mother would return.  For three days he fed them cream with a syringe while waiting for the mother's return.  She did not return so he took them home and is raising them.
   Indeed, a man with a big heart!

Recommended Reading

   Participation in two book clubs keeps me reading.  One book club is in our old neighborhood and we read a wide variety of books.  The other book club focuses on history.  Orphan Train, a novel by Christina Baker Kline was chosen by the neighborhood group but would also fit as history.
    "Between 1854 and 1929, so-called orphan trains transported more than two hundred thousand orphaned, abandoned, and homeless children...many of whom, like the character in this book, were first generation Irish Catholic immigrants...from the coastal cities of the eastern United States to the Midwest for "adoption"  which often turned out to be indentured servitude."  afterword p. 8
   The book is well written bringing  to light an important phase of  American life.  However, while it did reveal the difficulties many "orphans" suffered, in my opinion, it still went a bit light on how barbaric this experience could be.  Yet, I think it well worth reading.

Noble Academy, 2016-2017

     Too much fun!  That's the short description of my year of volunteer work at Noble Academy during the 2015-2016 academic year.  Before the year ended the teacher invited me to participate in the same way this year.  I'm thrilled to be back...and it's even better this year.
      Working with four 6th graders we are just finishing the first book we've read together.  Fever: 1793, is a historical novel about a Yellow Fever epidemic in Philadelphia the occurred in 1793. Because the students all come from homes of English language learners their vocabularies are not well developed.  They are the most proficient readers in their class...reading at a high school level...so it is a delight to help them expand the words that they know.
     So why is it better this year?   One of the 5th grade teachers, with whom I'd previously worked, was disappointed that I no longer assisted in her room.  I suggested to her that, becasue I only 60-75 minutes with the 6th grade, I'd be happy to do the same for her if she'd like.  She could choose the students and the books for us to read as long as it was not at the time I was with the 6th grade.  She agreed so now I'm reading with 5th graders, too, and that's why it's better this year.
     The 5th grade is reading an old classic; BFG, by Roald Dahl.  One of my 5th graders told me that "he's my favorite author".    Another in response to my asking how many siblings...well here's the dialog:  "Me: How many brothers and sisters do you have?  Student: I don't know.  Me: What's your best guess? (A little pause while the student thought.) Answer: Seventeen."
    A number of factors make this an ideal volunteer opportunity.  No preparation is required of me, being there every day is not necessary, the students are exceptional and love to read...plus, of course it keeps me off the street.

Some of my 6th graders last year on 'dress up day'.

This year's 6th graders.  (Notice the fist salute.)