So Long, Mr.G

My weekly quilt group meets in the community center. This Tuesday I happened to linger near a bulletin board and was drawn to read a notice from the local funeral parlor.

I have no idea why I read it; having moved twelve times in 43 years I never look at the obituaries because either I already knew someone had passed or I didn't know the person who had passed.

But this time my heart caught in my throat, for I recognized the name of the deceased. I read the whole notice, and was confirmed: my high school biology teacher, Mr. Gasiorowski, was gone. I had no idea he lived a few blocks away from our home of two years.

I loved Mr. G. He earnestly loved his subject and teaching us kids. He told great stories about whatever we studied, intermixed with mentions of his beloved White Sox team, managed by Eddie Stankey. When Mr. G talked about meiosis and mitosis he became so excited, his eyes shining. The mystery of life amazed him.

My 1967 diary is full of small references to Mr. G. Including this story:

Yesterday we had to inoculate a medium in a petri dish with bacteria. We used yeast as the bacteria. As we worked on this, Mr. G went around in case any trouble came up. He came over to me and said “I hate kids. I really do. I hate them!” as a serious joke. I told him that wasn’t a very nice thing to say, and asked why he was a teacher then. “I don’t know. Every weekend, I ask myself that. Every night I go home thinking how much I hate kids. But I usually forget about it after my 5^th Manhattan.” I laughed. He made another round of the lab tables, and came back with some sarcastic remark about, “OK kids, lets climb on each other’s shoulders and make like the Tower of Babel.” Everyone looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders as he passed by with his famous last words, “I hate kids.” 

One of several Mr G. sketches I did during class. 

I shared the obit link on various Facebook groups related to my high school and hometown and the comments came flowing in, previous students who all ranked Mr. G among their all time favorite teachers.

Mr. G has left a wonderful legacy.

http://www.gramerfuneralhome.com/obits/obituaries.php/obitID/660008/o/Robert-Joseph-Gasiorowski

Remembering The Assassination of Bobby Kennedy

In a few weeks my review of Bobby Kennedy: The Making of an American Icon by Larry Tye will post. I finished the book June 4, the day before the anniversary of his assassination.

June 5, 1968 Wednesday

I woke up and turned on the radio. A grim, somber man was talking. No music, no happiness, no funny DJ. Because at 12:15 this morning Robert Kennedy had an attempted assassination against him. It took place in the Ambassador Hotel in LA. Senator Kennedy is in surgery now--brain surgery. He had two bullets in his head. his heart, they say, is in good health. Four other people were wounded. It happened right after his speech.

When I first heard he was shot, I cried. I stopped to listen. The tension--there was little relief when I found he wasn't dead.

What's happening? Why?

Kathy was really upset about it. She told me her parents don't understand, don't care. Dorothy on the other hand talked about boys all the way to school. I had my ear glued to the radio I brought along.

Mr. Stephen gave a speech on Kennedy and held a moment of prayer for his recovery. All the heads bowed, solemn, still, not a sound in the gym. Anne Hoffman, exchange student, gave a long speech that touched the heartstrings, dripping with sentiment. It was beautiful. She cried. I could have died. 

Mr. Stephan reported that Senator Kennedy was alright, the brain surgery was over. Applause, relief, smiles with sad eyes, everyone knew, everyone cared.

So reads my diary pages from my sophomore year in high school when I was still fifteen. It was days before the end of school. I wrote that Robert Kennedy was a bright hope in a time of division, working for racial unity. I was worried about America's future: what happens when all the great men are murdered?

It had been a hard year of ups and downs for me. Friendships lost and gained, crushes on boys who avoided me and breaking up with the boy who desired me, choral concerts, classes with beloved teachers Mr. Gasiorowski (biology)  and Mr. Rosen (journalism), flunking geometry. 

And the suicide of a boy I admired, the son of my favorite English teacher, the assassination of Rev. Martin Luther King, and now Robert Kennedy. I had held a simple faith in humanity and the basic goodness of people, but that faith was coming apart. 

Two days later I was thinking about death and dying. I spiraled down into self pity and fear. Still to come was the lengthy hospitalization of my mother with me in charge of my little brother and basic household duties, Dad visiting Mom evenings. I hit rock bottom before realizing I had a (then) simple faith in God, and that knowledge changed everything for me.

But it was this event that was the tipping point, the murder of a man who represented hope. Kids need to believe the adult world will protect them, that the greater community can handle its problems and solve them. 

Later I realized it was just life. My parents lived through World War II. My grandfather was orphaned by age nine and had to fend for himself, working himself through college. My grandparents left a land where they were considered undesirable and a threat. The belief in a past Golden Age is myth.

I was actually pretty lucky, living in my suburban home with two parents, attending a great school, having home cooked food on the table every night and a K-Mart wardrobe every fall. But today I will allow myself to remember the sadness and crushed hopes on the day that Robert Kennedy was shot.

Murder and Baseball in Depression Era Detroit

Terror in the City of Champions: Murder, Baseball, and the Secret Society that Shocked Depression-Era Detroit by Tom Stanton is a thrilling and terrifying read.

Stanton begins his narrative in 1933 as Frank Navin signs Mickey Cochrane in hope that his Tigers would finally win a championship under his watch. At the same time a series of unsolved murders in the Detroit area were ruled suicides. Stanton weaves the narrative thread of winning teams and murderous mayhem through 1936 when the Black Legion was finally identified.

Detroit became the "City of Champions" when wins by the Tigers, Redwings, the Lions, and Joe Louis brought together a city crushed by the Depression.

Detroit was also the 'automotive capital of the world', attracting workers from the South to factory jobs. The largest Catholic congregation met in the Shrine of the Little Flower in Royal Oak, MI, now a national shrine. When it burned down in 1935 controversial Father Coughlin rebuilt it with money contributed by his radio followers. He preached a mixture of worker's rights, government control of railroads and major industries, Antisemitism, and he supported some Fascist policies. President Roosevelt finally shut his radio station down in 1939.

It was also a time when the Black Legion's reign of terror pressed men into membership on threat of death, flogged or executed backsliders, and assigned hit men to kill targeted 'enemies' of America: Catholics, Jews, Socialists, Communists, African Americans, liberal lawyers and newsmen. The leaders' ultimate goal was to depose President Roosevelt and take over the American government--to save it from Communism.

Reading about the Black Legion carrying out their meetings and activities in locales known to me was sickening. The group grew out of the ashes of the KKK. Men were invited to a club or gathering, but when they discovered what was really going on it was too late to back out. Pledges were signed at gunpoint and members given a bullet to remind them that betrayal meant death. It was a reign of terror. Bigwigs ordered regular 'joes' to carry out abductions and executions. At least one African American man was murdered just for sport.

Black Legion robes and guns found by police

Membership climbed into the tens of thousands across the Midwest, reaching into the ranks of police, courts, and elected officials. It was said all of Oakland County's government were members! I live in Oakland County!

When Captain Marmon came from Lansing to investigate he soon announced the Black Legion was responsible for at least 50 Michigan deaths. Old cases were reexamined; murders had been ruled as suicides. But his investigations were stymied. Cover-ups prevented following through on leads. J. Edgar Hoover ignored demands for action. The Ford Motor Company would not allow permission for the police to drain Ford Mill Pond, said to hold bodies. Major-General Bert Effinger of the Black Legion lived in Lima, Ohio. The local police would not execute a search warrant on his house. Effinger went missing.

Had it not been for a Legion member's confessions and telling police of activities and crimes no one would have been brought to justice. The downfall of the Black Legion was a relief for thousands who spent every day in fear.

I am not a sports fan myself but my limited knowledge did not prevent me from appreciating, or following, the book's saga of the Tigers. I now know who Schoolhouse Rowe, Hank Greenberg, Micky Cochrane, and Frank Navin are! I proudly can say I now know why Navin Field is important to my acquaintance who is involved in vintage baseball played there and why the Navin Field Grounds Crew are fighting the installation of artificial turf on the field. I do love when history books make one understand and appreciate the present! Stanton is able to bring these men to life.

This multi-layered book offers a full picture of Depression Era Detroit. It has always been a complicated city.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

"Once in a blue moon, a city bears witness to the best and the wort of times. Such was Detroit's fate more than a generation ago as the Tigers, Lions and Red Wings reached new sports heights while the Black Legion too often ruled the night. It's a great tale and Tom Stanton has done a marvelous job telling it." Tim Wendel, author of Summer of '68

Terror in the City of Champions: Murder, Baseball and the Secret Society that Shocked Depression Era Detroit
Tom Stanton
Rowman & Littlefield
Publication June 1,  2016
ISBN 978-1-4930-1570-2 hard cover $26
          978-1-4930-1818-5 eBook $24.99

Keeping Busy

David Maraniss came to the Troy, MI library to talk about his latest book Once in a Great City: A Detroit Story. The auditorium was filled!

I read his book over a year ago through NetGalley. You can read my review at
http://theliteratequilter.blogspot.com/2015/09/once-in-great-city-detroit-story-by.html

Maraniss addressed the inspiration behind his book, his Detroit childhood, and the main themes in the book. He showed several short films including the Superbowl commercial that inspired him to explore his response of nostalgia.
 http://www.candgnews.com/news/michigan-notable-book-author-explores-detroit-60s-92631

Maraniss noted the changes in  Detroit since researching his book starting in 2011, mentioning the influx of young people and the new businesses in Mid-town. His book addresses the dismantling of historic African American communities under the guise of "urban renewal.  It prompted me to ask a question. I follow Angel Flournay, author of The Turner House set in Detroit, on twitter. A few weeks ago she was in the city and tweeted her shock at finding herself the only person of color in Midtown. So I asked Maraniss if he thought that Detroit's come-back was reflecting the historic racial split of Detroit's past. He replied that officials are aware of the need for all communities to be involved with restoration.

*****

We have removed a 40+ year old pine tree and trimmed out 40+ year old silver maple. It's all our neighbor's fault, as he was removing two trees and thought we would want to ( he wanted us to) remove the pine.

The Pine Tree Before

The Silver Maple Before

The trees in our yard were all planted in the 1970s by my father. The pine had a curved trunk, ran through all the electric and cable lines to the house, and the trunk split into two half way up. The maple has shallow roots and it hung over the electric lines and our garage roof. So we trimmed it up.

 We watched as he climbed up the tree and cut one branch of the trunk then the other.

And the maple looks so different now!

The neighbor's tree greatly shaded our yard. We actually have some sunshine now...which is giveing hubby ideas for plantings...

Lab Girl by Hope Jahren: Survive and Thrive

Reading the beginning of Lab Girl by Hope Jahren through The First Look Book Club I was charmed by Jahren's voice and put the book on my 'to read' list. When I saw it on the new book shelf at the library I brought it home with me.

"Each beginning is the end of a waiting. We are each given exactly one chance to be. Each of us is both impossible and inevitable. Every replete tree was first a seed that waited."

Jahren has faced many challenges: a lonely childhood, working herself through school, struggling as a female scientist against the prejudices of a male dominated field, finding funding for her projects. Her success can be verified by her choice as one of Time's 100 Most Influential People, her Fulbright Scholarships, and her long relationship with her lab partner Bill. She found love and faced a difficult pregnancy sans medication for her bipolar disorder to have the child that changed her life.

"I have learned that raising a child is essentially one long, slow agony of letting go."

Jahren's writing is so lovely to read. Her love of her work as a geobioloist and her awe of nature shines through the pages. She alternates chapters on her life with chapters about the world of green growing things around us.

The self-portrait Jahren paints reveals her personal challenges and insecurities without being confessional and raw. Her lab partner/best friend/soul mate Bill is interesting and complicated, eccentric and brilliant. He once lived in a hole in his parent's back yard. We come to love him as much as Jahren does. We are happy when her loneliness is ended by marrying a man who 'gets her.'

To read a section of the book go to http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/248239/lab-girl-by-hope-jahren/9781101874936/

To read an interview with Jahren go to http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/the-secret-life-of-plants-and-lab-girl-author-hope-jahren/

A gorgeous book of life. Jahren contains multitudes. Her book is love as life. Trees as truth.” —Beth Kephart, Chicago Tribune

Lab Girl
Hope Jahren
Penguin Random House
$26.95 hard cover
ISBN:9781101874936

For the Glory: Eric Liddell's Journey from Olympic Champion to Modern Martyr

I was barely into my twenties when I met Dr. Maybell Marion Holmes. She had been born to missionaries in China and later returned to China as a missionary. Her parents fled China during the Boxer Rebellion. Her father Rev. Thomas D. Holmes wrote a book, China Stories, about his experiences. Marion lived into her nineties. I only knew her for a few years before my husband's work brought a move.

While reading Duncan Hamilton's biography on Eric Liddell For the Glory I chastised myself for not having probed Dr. Holmes for stories. She had first hand experience of events of which I was totally ignorant. To think of what I could have learned!

The Chinese resented how the Western was influencing their country. Comprised mainly of peasants, the Boxers rebelled by destroying railroads, killing missionaries, and attacking foreign enclaves and diplomats. President McKinley joined Europeans in sending in troops. The Manchu Dynasty joined with the Boxers. It was the beginning of the Chinese Revolution.

Eric Liddell's parents were missionaries in China during the Boxer Rebellion until his father suffered a stroke. Eric idolized his father. "Be ye perfect" became Eric's goal, an example set by his father's embodiment of the ideals taught by Jesus.


Most people know Eric Liddell only from the 1981 movie Chariots of Fire which follows his career as a runner in the 1924 Paris Olympics.  The movie portrays Eric as a high minded idealist, adamant about keeping the Sabbath; he will not race on Sunday. A friend exchanges races; Eric runs feeling God's pleasure and wins a medal. The movie ends with a few lines about Eric becoming a missionary and dying in China.

1925 Liddell as painted by Eileen Soper http://www.weihsien-paintings.org/NormanCliff/people/individuals/Eric01/p_painting.htm

The story behind Eric's Olympic win is set forth in the first part of Hamilton's book, and he brings Liddell's personality and gifts to life. He comments on ways the movie altered truth for the sake of story.

But it is Eric's life after winning the gold that becomes most riveting, especially the last third of the book about his missionary career in China while under Japanese occupation during WWII. The author is certain he is writing about a saint, and makes us believe too.

Liddell returning to Japanese occupied China as a missionary

The man in these pages has the mind of a winner, the determination and drive to push himself beyond endurance. It is a trait he takes into all his life.

Eric was sent to an isolated village mission which fell under Japanese occupation. After a vacation break the mission society sent Eric back to the mission. It was a fateful decision. The missionaries were put under house arrest then rounded up and sent to a concentration camp in a run down former mission school. In over crowded, unsanitary, and claustrophobic conditions, the internees struggled to deal with the waste and developed a Black Market to supplement their scanty food supplies.

Eric kept up a public face of encouragement while teaching in the camp school, but also hauling water, cleaning excrement, offering non-judgmental counseling, and organizing sports events and races. His health steadily declined, and he died in the camp, emaciated and weak, after suffering several strokes. He had brain cancer.

For the Glory is a wonderful biography, inspiring and glorious, horrifying and sad. But beyond the sadness there is hope. Liddell's example of loving your enemies inspired a camp internee, Steve Metcalf, to become a missionary to Japan. Metcalf called it 'passing the baton of forgiveness.' To have witnessed the atrocities the Japanese inflicted on the Chinese, and yet forgiven them, came out of their deep faith and obedience to the teaching of Jesus.

Eric's daughter, whom he never saw, grew up resentful until she realized her father was meant to be in that camp, touching the lives of many, part of a bigger plan. She realized her family was meant to share him.

Eric's favorite hymn was Be Still My Soul, translated by a fellow Scott. Did he know these words would be needed to comfort him during his earthly trial?

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still now
His voice Who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, his heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all he takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change are tears are past
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall he view thee with a well-pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

http://www.hymnary.org/text/be_still_my_soul_the_lord_is_on_thy_side

I received a free ebook through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

For the Glory
by Duncan Hamilton
Penguin
Publication May 10, 2016
$27.95 hard cover
ISBN: 978159420627

Thoughts At The Symphony

 Orchestra Hall

Since returning to Metro Detroit we have been enjoying the Detroit Symphony Orchestra directed by Leonard Slatkin. At Orchestra Hall or the neighborhood concerts, on the DSO to Go app or Livestream internet television, it has been a delight. Maestro Slatkin does a wonderful job bringing the music to the people.

 

Every time I hear the symphony live I realize how listening to a recording or radio is lacking.

Last evening we heard Joshua Bell performing Lalo's Symphonie espagnole, which I had only heard on radio before. It is a real showpiece for violin and Bell was amazing! The concert started with a tribute to Steven Stucky, performing his Dreamwaltzes, which Slatkin first directed 30 years ago. And the concert ended with Prokofiev's Symphony No. 5 in B-flat major.

The program notes quotes Prokofiev: "I wanted to sing the praises of the free and happy man: his strength, his generosity and the purity of his soul. I cannot say that I chose this theme: it was born in me and had to express itself." It was written in 1944 "as a means of putting into music all of the mind-boggling suffering which Russia had endured during the Nazi invasion, but also to look forward to what many people then felt was an almost-sure final victory."

The symphony premiered in Moscow the day that the Soviet Army crossed the Vistula on their victory march into Nazi Germany. Prokofiev lifted his baton but was delayed by the sound of gunfire. As the symphony came to its end "it became clear that the end of the war was indeed insight."

With the coda, the martial sounds of war with the drums and percussion instruments driving the music louder and more belligerent, the couple in front of me turned to each other in silent laughter. I wanted to give them a Gibbs head slap. Where I was experiencing the impact of war into human life they thought the 'intrusion' was funny.

But I had been thinking of how 1944 was less than ten years before my birth, how I grew up thinking the war was ancient history while around me my parents and grandparents knew otherwise. And I considered how lucky I am: my grandmother and her family, and my husband's grandfather, left Russia a hundred years ago. And fifty years before that the German Ramers. Because had they been in Russia and Germany they would have lived through the war--or died in it.

Great music at once engages my rapt attention while also freeing my mind for free association, forging connections between my knowledge and experience to the music.