First Sighting!

    Now that the OFH has been moved down from the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers with a view over the Mississippi, I've anticipated seeing eagles. The river is frozen and there are snowmobile tracks on it. Consequently, the open water necessary for eagle's fishing will come later. Today I did see an eagle flying the downriver direction. It was far from my window so a distant view, but, clearly an eagle. It's always special to see that marvelous bird and occasionally I see them when staying in The Little House. 

   Life in the OFH could be a lot worse!

Takk for alt,

Al

Well, then....

     Five days of radiation with weekends off is a new experience. Not the radiation...well that's new...but, "weekends off." During my working years I once asked a newly retired person "How's retirement?" He said "It's like having all weekends." I replied "What's a weekend?" Having worked Sundays for thirty nine years and then retiring the 'weekend' wasn't part of my experience. Now, I go for treatment five days and then have a weekend...that's a new experience. 

    Some planning is going to be necessary to avoid boredom. Should I foment some mischief in the Old Folk's Home? Probably not a good idea...stay tuned.

Takk for alt,

Al

That was fun!

 My granddaughters, Evy and Sella, spent the afternoon with me in the Old Folk's Home. They were not surprised when I said that a lot of old people live here. They were keen to experience the dining room. Have I explained the dining room? There are three seatings, 4:00, 5:15 and 6:00. It's necessary to reserve by 2:00 so the kitchen can prepare. A meal consisting of a first course, entrée with side, beverage and dessert is $11.00.  There is a complete menu plus a special is offered at every meal. That, i.e., the special, is usually my choice, tonight it was white, chicken chili which was very good. Portions are appropriately proportioned: enough but not too much. Sella had a toasted cheese sandwich with a side of fruit. Evy ate an omelet with french fries, so back at the apartment she said "I'm going to eat bowl of frozen peas to be responsible" and she did.  Yes, and the food is good!

   Five delightful hours with no drama.

Takk for alt,

Al

           The dialog in this strip proves that John in Norwegian.

Five nineteenths!

      That's a fraction that doesn't get bandied about very often: five nineteenths. When my radiologic appointment concluded today it meant that I am five nineteenths through the cycle. My how fast the time flies when having fun. Or, as the frog was known to remark, "My how fun the time is when having flies."  So far so good, with little side effects yet.

    Other than my daily, early morning walk, the weather hasn't encouraged much exploration of the OFH's neighborhood. The building sits along West 7th Avenue, between Montreal and Lexington Parkway. Just north is the bottom slope of the hill leading to the bluff, it's part of the Highland Park Neighborhood.  I-35E is a couple of blocks to the east. That highway, as it descends from Mendota Heights to the Mississippi River, is visible from my apartment. With the river frozen no eagles have been sighted yet. 

   As I've often said "It could be a lot worse."

Takk for alt,

Al

Long ago and far far away!

       Writing yesterdays blog about the death of a former school teacher brought those school days to mind. That one room school did have electricity but about all it was used for was for the lights on the ceiling. It did not have running water nor telephone. Between my fourth and fifth grade years the coal burning stove was replaced with an oil burner. Then a bit of heat was retained over night as the stove was left on but turned very low. On the coldest days our lunches would freeze by noon in the entry. Through eight grades I had four teachers; 1-3, 4, 5, 6-8.  My first two years of school I walked the mile with three siblings, the next two with two brothers, then with one brother and my last two alone. 

    With this experience in my life it's no wonder I'm old enough for the old folk's home.

Takk for alt,

Al

              Rolf and Helen are two not wearing bib overalls! 😀

Memory unit here I come.

     While I was lunching in the OFH dining room today I took a call from my brother. Saying I'd call him back when I finished eating, I forgot until now. (4:30 pm) It's a good thing there is a memory care unit in the OFH.  I'll consider registering for it. 😀

    The purpose of his call was to tell me that one of our former elementary school teachers died. Long time readers of this blog may recall that we attended a rural, one room school for eight grades.  She was my teacher for grades 6, 7, and 8. Not only was she my teacher, she lived with us! When our farm house was remodeled it was configured with two separate living areas upstairs. Two stairways exited from the kitchen, up one staircase were three bedrooms where I lived with my family. Up the other staircase was a guest bedroom and the house' only bathroom. The arrangement worked well for housing a teacher. On weekends she went to her parental home.

    At least we could have gotten a ride to school and back, but, no we had to walk that mile both ways no matter the cold. She went to school early and came home late. It's a bit awkward to house one's teacher when one is an adolescent. She joined us for breakfast and dinner and I suspect that Mother made her noon lunch. In her favor was that she didn't use her proximity to my parents to rat me out. My academic failures are not her fault. 

     Rest in peace; Bonnie Pierce, September 11, 1930-January 23, 2022. 

Takk for alt,

Al

The school building, where Bonnie taught and I was a student for eight grades, is now in my nephew's farm yard. 

      

Recommended Reading!

    It's a puzzle, why I lost interest in reading for a bit. But, now I'm happy to settle in my new recliner and read. A few days ago I quoted from Ann Patchett's book of essays These Precious Days. Now that I've finished it I'm happy to recommend it. Covering a wide variety of topics, very autobiographical, it would be a good book for a busy person. She/he could read an essay, leave the book for awhile, and come back to it without the issue of having lost the thread. It is interesting, full of wit and wisdom, reflective and a delight.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Thanks, MJV!

Six down, thirty two to go!

      Once a week, after the radiation therapy, I meet with the doctor. He's older, affable and concerned. It's a wellness check to be certain that I'm handling it okay. When the radiation was planned last November the duration of the treatments was un-decided. He said "The duration is determined by the insurance company. I prefer doing it in eight weeks. However, sometimes the insurance company says 'that's too expensive, do it in six.'"

    The duration had never been explained to me so in the visit with the doctor today I asked, "six or eight?" He said "seven and a half, there will be thirty eight" thus "six down, thirty to go." Score one for me, and "thanks, Humana!" my insurance company.  My brother-in-law thought glowing in the dark would be appropriate for Epiphany Season...preacher joke. 😉

    Waited listed for a parking stall in the garage of the OFH, scraping off the ice and snow for the daily trek to radiation. brings back memories of the old days. At least now, unlike then, the car always starts.

Takk for alt,

Al

Well then! ???

      After multiple attempts to write a new post blogspot wouldn't accept it. After I modified yesterday's blog to explain the situation suddenly I'm able to make a new post?  Go figure. This effort has exhausted my attention span, which is slightly less that a three year old, so this will be gist of today's post.

    Know that I am alive, well and begin my second weed of radiation tomorrow.  No side effects yet and glowing in the dark apparently will wait.

Takk for alt,

Al

Help, the blogpost site will not allow me to enter a new Post on 1/23/22

     I can update this pervious blog but I cannot open the "New Post" tab.  I've logged off, restarted the computer, to no avail.   I'll keep trying but there will not be much of a post today.

Takk for alt,

Al

Geography Lesson Needed  1/22/22

   When we first visited the OFH in October seeing the view from the apartment window I made the erroneous assumption that it overlooked the Minnesota River Valley, with the city of Mendota Heights visible on the far bluff. WRONG!

        While at dinner last night with Harry and Polly they mentioned a nice park not far from here. Harry offered to walk me to it so we made arrangements for a walk this morning. On the hike, after we crossed Shepherd Rd., we entered Crosby Farm Regional Park. "With about 6.7 miles of paved trails, the park provides a beautiful setting for an afternoon's walk, run, or ride. Trails run along shady, wooded bottom lands next to the Mississippi River, along the marshes of Crosby Lake, past scenic picnic areas, and connects to the Mississippi River Boulevard parkway."  Notice it says Mississippi River...not Minnesota River. My bad 😕!

   Here is more park information from the St. Paul brochure. "Crosby Farm Regional Park is named after Thomas Crosby, an English immigrant who staked out 160 acres in the valley southwest of the present-day junction of Shepard Road and Interstate 35E in 1858. Before Crosby's death in 1886, the farm became one of the largest and longest running in the West End and Highland Park area. A succession of families farmed it between 1902 and 1962. The Saint Paul Port Authority purchased the land in the early 1960s and leased it to the City for park use."

   The view from my apartment is even better now that I know I'm looking over the Mississippi River to Mendota Heights. 

Takk for alt,

Al

Serendipitous!

     In yesterday's blog there was a quote from the Ann Patchett book of essays These Precious Days. It's one of many sent by MJV. The plan is to finish reading it before reading American by Day. That plans turns out to have been a good choice!

    Four weeks of rather frantic downsizing cumulated in the Jan. 7, move to the OFH. Purging is not easy nor for the faint of heart. Perhaps that's why many persons avoid it and leave to others upon their demise. Constant decisions need to be made in the process: keep? toss? give away, and if so, to whom? The stress comes because those items have been kept for a reason. Most of the things are connected to some memory or another. 

   In an essay titled How to Practice, Patchett describes the situation a close friend experienced with the death of the friend's father, who had collected and never purged. Witnessing that scenario prompted Patchett to reflect on her own situation. Married, with step-children but no children of her own, living in a house filled with stuff, who would confront dealing with it all after her death?

   She, with the agreement of her husband, began purging. The intitial act of eliminating is difficult. Confronting what had been stashed, the questions of keep? toss? or, give? were daunting. Gradually as the effort picked up steam it became easier. After a woman had taken a number of items Patchett was giving Patchett writes about this exchange "She was thrilled, and I was thrilled for her. It had all changed that fast. The point was no longer making sure the right person got the right things. The point was that those things were gone." P. 70

   Yes! That was my experience! "The point was that those things were gone." That's exactly how it felt to me "I don't care where/to whom, it's GONE!

   This essay should be read by any who are contemplating or avoiding downsizing. For those who've already begun or done it will affirm their experience.

Takk for alt,

Al

They keep coming!

      When Norwegian by Night arrived it was accompanied by Ann Patchett's These Precious Days: Essays. Finishing Norwegian by Night a couple of days ago today the sequel, American by Day, arrived. All are gifts from MJV who says "American" is even better than the first.

    New York Times says Norwegian by Night "Has the brains of a literary novel and the body of a thriller." That's an apt description. An escape scene has an American 81 year old fleeing  by a tractor and other means. The book is reminiscent of the trilogy by the late Stieg Larsson, the Swedish author whose books were published posthumously beginning with The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, English version in 2008. The author Derek K. Miller deftly uses flashbacks in developing compelling characters. Flashbacks include scenes from the Korean and Vietnam Wars.  Read it if you want a thinking persons thriller though it is quite violent. It contains interesting reflections on the complications arising from Norway's welcome of immigrants. 

   This gem is found in Patchett's These Precious Days. "The trouble with good fortune is that we tend to equate it with personal goodness, so that if things are going well for us and less well for others, it's assumed they must have done something to have brought misfortune on themselves while we must have worked harder to avoid it. We speak of ourselves as being blessed, but what can that mean except that others are not blessed, and that God has picked out a few of us to love more?" P. 52.

Takk for alt,

Al

Advantage!

     It's not all bad to be a geezer. Last fall I replaced an old, yellow, swivel rocker in The Little House with a smaller Lazyboy rocker, recliner. It's worked very well for me so I wanted one for the OFH. Seeing an ad from the Lazyboy Store for a sale I called. Yes, they'd sell me the same model as in South Dakota, $711.00.  It would be available in April. APRIL??? There's serious practice sleeping to be done before APRIL!  Thanking them I said I'd see if I could find one in stock.

    Slumberland in Brookings sold the one for The Little House so I called the local Slumberland. Yes, they have them in stock for $348.00 and free delivery to the lobby of the OFH. For additional $78.00 they would take to the apartment and set it up. Reporting my experience with the Lazyboy Store the clerk at Slumberland said "We always undersell them by 40%,

  In South Dakota I'd taken the chair home in my CRV. They agreed to deliver it to the lobby of the OFH on Wednesday (today). When the delivery person called to say he was on his way I took a cart to the lobby to await. When he arrived he took one look at me and said "I'll take it to your apartment and set it up." After taking one look at me he must of concluded that I was too old and frail to handle it alone. Advantage: geezer. Where is he when I can use some help on the farm? 😃

Takk for alt,

Al

I finished reading Norwegian by Night, yesterday. I'll blog about it soon.

                               My new chair.

New kid...

      This Old Folk's Home has a nice entrance with a canopy, entry and a drive-up to let off passengers. A bit off to the side is another, single, entrance door. As I was about to exit that side door for my morning walk a staff person stopped me and said that "guests are asked to exit through the main doors."  I replied, "I'm an inmate not a guest." 😊 She, then, let me proceed out the door. Being the new kid in residence it's not surprising that some staff don't recognize me. 

     The message remains the same "life here could be a lot worse."

Takk for alt,

Al

That was easy!

      It was 5 minutes down the steps to the car. Then there was 20 minutes driving the 15 miles to the parking lot. Another 5 minutes from the car park to the clinic. From the time I was called in to the room for radiation it was 13 minutes until I was out. This will be my routine for 39 more times, but who is counting? 

   This being my first trip from the Old Folk's Home in St. Paul to Methodist Hospital in St. Louis Park the measurements will be helpful in timing my excursions. Thanks to Madame Marie Curie, and a host of others, radiation is my friend. Yes, I'm grateful!

    MJV sent me more books, among which is Norwegian by Night, Derek B. Miller. About which The New York Times says "Has the brains of a literary novel and the body of a thriller."  Now that I'm about a third of the way through it I'd agree with that description. It's also fun becasue it's set in Norway so many of the places are familiar to me.

    A Norwegian man and his daughter are discussing her marriage prospects in the book. She says, "...it is near impossible to know whether a Norwegian man is interested."... Her father replies, "Daughter, it's not hard at all. You look for the man staring with the greatest intensity as his own shoes while in your presence. The kind of man who is too tongue-tied to try talking to you. This is the one you're looking for." pp 41-42.

   This reminds of the old joke that you can tell an extroverted Norwegian because he looks at your shoes when he talks to you. 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

Missing Kaia!

     It's been nine days since I arrived at the Old Folk's Home. The pattern of living that's developed has been short on physical movement. In the absence of Kaia, who is at doggie camp for awhile, it's all to easy to be sedentary. The 60 steps, climbed 2 or 3 times a day do provide a bit of cardio vascular exercise. Yet, were Kaia present, I'd be doing much more.

    Today I added a walk outside, climbing Lexington Parkway. That's a practice, walking outside, I intend to continue or I'll be totally out of shape when Kaia returns. My brother, older, walks two miles every day on the prairie. Our father would be proud of him, Dad was a great walker. Going to look at the crops I'd suggest taking a tractor but at his insistence we'd walk instead. 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Have I mentioned that life in the Old Folk's home could be a lot worse?

                                      In the dinning room.

Recommended reading.

     For a few months reading wasn't on my agenda. Now that's changed, why I don't know, but I'm reading again. The Shepherd's Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape, James Rebanks. is a memoir of his experience as a shepherd. Growing up on a sheep farm in the northern Lake Country of England, Rebanks always wanted to raise sheep. Though he graduates from Oxford he returns to his ancestral home as a sheep farmer. 

    His description of shepherding, and his biography, is divided by the seasons; summer, autumn, winter and spring. He is unsparing of the realities of raising sheep, none of which were really surprising to me with my farm background. The book is a New York Times bestseller so I do wonder what persons not familiar with the realities of animal husbandry thought of some of his graphic descriptions.

    This story is a paean to the long tradition of raising sheep in conflict with the increasing tourist identification of the Lake Country as a vacation destination. He works through his internal conflicts about tradition versus modernizing in print giving the reader and interesting and thoughtful commentary on values by which to live.

    Yes, I recommend it.

Takk for alt,

Al

Alpha and Omega!

     For enrollment at Luther Seminary two years of New Testament Greek was a prerequisite. That requirement was fulfilled while I was a student at Augustana College, (now University) Sioux Falls, S.D. How much of that Greek I've forgotten became obvious when the COVID variant, Omicron, appeared in the news. "Let's see now, that's a Greek letter isn't it?"  Delta did not confuse me.

   Alpha and Omega, the first and the last letters of the Greek alphabet are easy to remember becasue of the Biblical reference.  Those letters came to mind  when I was at dinner last night. Sitting alone in the dining hall, as I was finishing my meal, a couple would have sat with me were I not about to leave. They took a different table in my eyesight. Observing them it struck me that they looked familiar. Leaving my table to exit the dining room I paused to visit with them.

   Not long into the conversation we established that we had met at Carolyn Folke's house a couple of times. In the course of the conversation they mentioned that they were the first people to move into the Landings, which was mid-December 2020. (Alpha)  It was six days since I arrived taking the last available apt. (Omega)

    They made a remarkable statement about their life here. They said "we've always liked living here, and it gets better every week."  Well, it's as I said "It could be a lot worse." 😉

Takk for alt,

Al

"One more thing..."

 When we were downsizing it seemed every time we thought we were done we'd find one more corner, one more box. Residing in the old folk's home...someone assumed the old folk's home was a nursing home 😊...as I do now there is always 'one more thing' at the condo. A carpet cleaner is cleaning the carpets as I type this. Eleven years of living on them...you can imagine. 

   Tomorrow I'll be there again for 'one more thing'.😉 But I stick with my statement that my new digs could be a lot worse. (Ask a Norwegian friend to translate that for you.)

Takk for alt

Al

Kennel to kennel......

     How would Kaia respond to me if I glow in the dark?  Some dogs can smell cancer, do I smell different to Kaia? Kaia was boarded in a local kennel as we navigated the chaos of the move. Today, I retrieved her from that kennel and dove her to her natal kennel at Brainerd. She'll be there for a longish stay while I'm doing radiation. She road part way in the front seat so we could have some face time.

   Pine Shadows Kennel, Brainerd, is where she lived her first five years. She's been with me almost a year. Pine Shadows is her home away from home. The staff were excited to see her, and she them. She'll have excellent care in a familiar place until I can retrieve her. 

    In her absence I am less active. I've disciplined myself to use the stairs to my fourth floor apartment. However, it's a step down. There are 214 steps to my condo and only 60 to this apartment. Attempting to compensate for the difference I use the steps here more frequently. 

    That's the news from the old folk's home!

Takk for alt,

Al

Opps........

       " Into every life a little rain must fall" goes the old saying. The plan to get the surplus furniture removed from the condo today did not happen. It looks as if it's going to Good Will next week. Any takers for two nice, oak bar stools, 2 oak captains chairs, metal 2 door file cabinet....😃...free to a good home? Listing is going to be delayed a bit but what's the rush?

     Meanwhile, I'm settling into life in the old folks home. There are planes in sight approaching the airport which is not far away. Apparently this building is not on a flight pattern so there is no airplane noise...don't even hear any with my hearing aids in. 

    Life here could be a lot worse!

Takk for alt,

Al

To market!

      It looked familiar. It looked different. Making a quick trip back to the condo today to facilitate some furniture removal provoked differing reactions; familiar but different. It wasn't particularly emotional. The remaining furniture should be removed tomorrow.  Thursday the carpets will be cleaned. Deep cleaning is scheduled for Friday. There's a couple of minor fix it things for the weekend.

    On Tuesday, the 18th the condo will go on the market.  Judy Jensen is the listing agent and she's affiliated with Edina Reality. She was the agent with whom we worked both buying and selling our house in Golden Valley. We bought the condo directly from the previous owner but she helped us with the paper work. I know her from the time we both lived in Sioux Falls, and she was Lars' Sunday School teacher.

   So that's my story and I'm sticking with it. My brother-in-law suggested I'm too effusive about my new digs. From now on I'll go back to my usual remark: "It could be a lot worse." 

Takk for alt,

Al

95% ????

       Leading the pack in the 'unpacking sweepstakes' we're at the approximate 95% done stage. Joanne would be proud of the rapidity with which it's going. Two purchases needed: a small recliner, similar to the one in The Little House, and a modest desk...oh, and perhaps a kitchen chair or two. With a few pictures up it already begins to feel more like home. Ten hands this afternoon accomplished much. 

     Constantly, I'm counting my blessings. Invited to dinner last night with long time friends, Roy and Dorothy, who now live just down the hall from me, we were joined by acquaintances, Glen and Ann. Dinner was lovely, conversation flowed freely until the dinning room staff wanted to go home.  The food was great. Ordering from a menu, the special was salmon, a first course soup/salad, entrée, side dish, dessert and beverage cost $11.00.  My food was very good. When the dinner broke up Roy and Dorothy invited us to their apartment for more conversation.   

    The view out the sliding glass doors of the apartment is over the Minnesota River Valley. It's exactly what I need to avoid claustrophobia, a vista and distant horizon...my prairie sensibilities you understand.

    The task this week will be to ready the condo for listing for sale, Four weeks ago I left The Little House and here I am in the old folk's home. 😁

Takk for alt,

Al

80% ???????

     Last night Lisa and I worked at settling until 9pm. Today Lars' four have been here for the day. With all that help I'm about 80% settled. Even have a dinner invitation, in the building, tonight. Slept the best since coming to the cities three weeks ago. Kitchen is totally settled, thanks to the women in my family. With a center island, and L shaped cupboards, there is much storage space in the kitchen. The refrigerator magnets add a homey touch. 

    With my first solo move since 1963, Joanne's presence inhabits every step of the process. This place, with all it's social opportunities, would delight her. Me? I'll socialize enough to fill me people bladder, then excuse myself to walk Kaia. 😊 Speaking of Kaia, she in a local kennel until Wednesday, then I'll take her to her natal kennel for safe keeping and longer term boarding. I certainly miss her and I think she'll be happy here. 

   So, all's well with me and I hope it is with you and yours!

Takk for alt,

Al

St. Paul

     Now for the first time in my life I reside in St. Paul, MN. Nothing like choosing a day when the temperature is minus 18.  It was a day long process managed by Lisa and Lars. My job was just to stay out of the way, a task at which I excelled. Too much came with me which is no surprise even after vigorous downsizing. No fires today. Certainly glad I hired movers rather than lugging furniture ourselves. Coming down in the world, now my view is from the 4th floor instead of the 15th. This view has more trees and less buildings. The apt. faces exactly SE so it offers great winter sun and will be shaded during the summer. 

    Leaving the condo was emotional. Joanne loved it there and Joanne died there. The space contains so many memories but the memories remain even though I no longer occupy the space. Staying there alone last night was melancholy. During the whirl wind of downsizing mostly I experienced fatigue. No doubt much of the fatigue was a form of grief.  With everything packed and ready to move it was a quiet evening in the condo. A couple of good friends with listening ears were very helpful..

   Now to the unpacking....

Takk for alt,

Al

The Adventure of Moving!

       "What's that smell?" " Flames reached the ceiling!" "Would the smoke alarm and sprinklers go off?" There's nothing like a good fire to light up the moving process. No, neither the alarm nor the sprinkler went off. Soot and and ashes in the sink and a smoky smell in the condo is the only evidence. Want to hear more, or should I wait until tomorrow? 😁

     When the packers arrived they placed packing papers on the cooktop. The top was accidently turned on, perhaps on high. It was hot enough to ignite the papers. By the time it was discovered  flames reached the ceiling. One of the packers grabbed the burning papers, threw it into the sink and turned on the water. Thus, both the condo and the building, not to mention the five persons in the condo, were saved. 

    That incident certainly adds a bit of drama to moving!

Takk for alt

Al

Just about there.

    All of the downsizing is done. Packers will pack what we haven't. The movers will come and transport it all to the old folk's home. Soon, I'll be among the old folks who call that home. My initial forays to the building have been encouraging. Residents have been very friendly, welcoming and report their happiness with living there. Onward and upward.

    This large condo, with much storage space, illustrates a danger. What's the danger? Having too much storage space is a danger. As I travel about and see all the storage facilities that have popped up it begs the question; "for what is all that stuff being saved?"  Why did I save so much?  Well...there is less now!

Takk for alt,

Al

Kaia is spending a few days at doggie camp during the chaos. I sure miss he

Bishop Tutu, part 3.

     This is a continuation of the story of Bishop Desmond Tutu coming to the Quad Cities to receive the Pacem In Terris Award.

     The day's public events for Bishop Tutu began with Matins at the Episcopal  Cathedral, as reported in the blog two days ago. A large facility was needed for the award presentation. St. Ambrose College, now University, is a Catholic Diocesan institution in Davenport, IA. St. Ambrose administration volunteered their field house, which was the largest facility in the Quad Cities.

    There were over 3000 in attendance. Selected to make the award presentation, in my downsizing now, we came across a picture of  making the presentation to Bishop Tutu. How I came be the presenter I've lost the memory. It was certainly an exciting moment.

   I'll attach a link to a copy of the program.

Takk for alt,

Al

https://www.davenportdiocese.org/documents/2016/5/sapacem5-26-1987ProgramTutu.pdf

Too tired!

    With helping hands here during my usual blog time, the remainder of the Bishop Tutu story wait's until tomorrow. My apologies to both of you.

Takk for alt,

Al

Bishop Tutu, part 2.

      With Bishop Tutu's positive response to coming to the Quad Cities to receive the award  the planning wheels went in to motion. He set the date he'd be in the Quad Cities based on his schedule in Washington. D.C. When VIP's are involved suddenly other personages take an interest. Tutu accepted and invitation from the Episcopalian Bishop to lodge with him at his manse in Davenport. 

    A delegation went to the Quad Cities airport, Moline. IL., to meet the Tutus; the bishop and his wife,   Nomalizo Leah,  who went by "Leah". Airport security in the mid-eighties wasn't what it is today. We were able to meet them at the gate, accompanied them to baggage claim, where I commanded his two huge luggage bags. We bundled them into vehicles and brought him to the manse when I manhandled the bags up the stairway of the Victorian mansion.

   The Episcopalian bishop, not letting the opportunity pass, scheduled morning matins with Tutu as preacher. When Tutu entered the pulpit to begin is his sermon, beaming broadly, he proclaimed "I'm tickled pink to be here!" He giggled, then added "I am a man of color."  Effectively he laid out the reality of apartheid in South Africa, encouraged those in the service to get involved and gave direction of what they might do. This was all delivered in his winsome style, sprinkled with humor and no trace of bitterness. He was as winsome in private as we was in public.

   While the offering was being collected he circulated in the aisles, shaking hands and greeting people, always with a big smile. Bishop Gerald O'Keefe was present but refrained from communion. O'Keefe was famous for appearing to sleep at public events, then standing to speak, revealing that he hadn't missed a thing. During Tutu's sermon he looked totally awake  seen from my vantage point on the altar.

   This story will be continued in tomorrow's blog.

Takk for alt,

Al

                         Once again Earl speaks for me.😂

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, October 7, 1931-December 26, 2021

     I carried Bishop Tutu's luggage. It was very heavy!  Thereby hangs a tale. With Tutu's death memories of the time I was with Tutu came back to me. It was in the mid-80s and apartheid was still the rule in South Africa where Tutu lived. Here is the story of my connection to the Archbishop.

    During my years in Davenport I convened the Quad-Cities, (Davenport and Bettendorf, IA; Rock Island and Moline, IL) chapter of Bread For The World (BFW). The local BFW was a part of consortium of social justice agencies that cooperated in giving an annual award to person who had done much for peace and justice. The Social Action Office of the Catholic Diocese of Davenport was a part of that group. The local award was called The Pacem in Terris Award, modeled after the Pacem in Terris Peace and Freedom Award which is a Catholic peace award which has been given annually since 1964, in commemoration of the 1963 encyclical letter Pacem in terris (Peace on Earth) of Pope John XXIII.

   A condition of the local award stipulated that the recipient would receive it in person. It is helpful to have friends in high places. Wanting to give Tutu the award the issue of his presence in the Quad Cities was an issue. The representatives from the Diocesan Social Action Office went to their bishop, Bishop Gerald O'Keeffe, Diocese Of Davenport. Bishop O'Keefe talked to the Episcopalian Bishop of Iowa, who lived in Davenport. He used his Anglican connections to contact Archbishop Tutu. Tutu replied he'd love to stop in the Quad-Cities on his way to a meeting in Washington, D.C. Sometimes it pays to aim high. 😀

   To be continued in tomorrow's blog. 

   godt nytt år

Al

 

A selfie I took when walking Kaia this morning.