Monthly Archives: April 2009

April 20, 2009 · 21:05

How can a Opening Day Rain Out be God’s Will?

Tonight was where I need to take exception with Saint Augustine and John “no I’m not having fun” Calvin.  Now I have to admit that I am not a very good Augustinian or Calvinist unless perchance it suits me at the time.  Where I really have a problem with them in in the subject of Predestination.  Now before all the hyper-Calvinists or neo-Augustinians get their panties in a wad or knickers in a twist, I am not referring to the subject of salvation, election, double predestination, or even double secret predestination.  These subjects were argued between my fellow students back in seminary until I wanted to throw up.

I figure that the Deity Herself is not stupid and since She created everything, of course in cooperation with Jesus and the Holy Spirit…I am after all certainly an orthodox Trinitarian in such maters, I figure that She knows who are Hers.  Where I do however differ with the former party animal (Augie)  and frustrated lawyer (John Boy) is in the matter of how this applies to baseball.

Tonight was an interesting night.  I got to the parking lot and the heavens opened.  For 30 minutes rain came down in buckets.  There was lightening and thunder, but the storm passed.  The tarp was rolled away from the field but the infield was in great shape.  However the umpires ruled that the outfield was unplayable.  Now I have been to plenty of games at Harbor Park and seen much worse conditions which were ruled playable.  Obviously this was a case of the Devil’s mischief and not a case of God’s will.  For had Calvin and Augie known about Baseball and the fact that it is the preferred sport of the Almighty, they could not have made such statements about Predestination.  Certainly a rain out of a home opener cannot be God’s will.  I am actually predisposed to believe that the postponement or cancellation of any Baseball game is not the will of God but the work of the Devil.  Now I am not one to give the Devil a lot of credence, because I believe that Christ has defeated him.  Likewise I am not one to find a Demon behind every bush.  However, to be sure, for God to to taunt us with beautiful weather on opening night after a deluge of the type that we experienced was not the work of God.  Indeed this opening day rain out  had to be the Devil’s work.  I remember opening day of 2005 when the weather was 38 degrees at game time, the field wet and winds blowing 20-30 Mph with gusts to 50 mph from Center Field.  That game was played, and numerous others in awful conditions.

I guess there can be a caveat in this, perhaps if the Giants or the Tides are behind in a game and it is before it becomes official that might be the work of the Deity herself, spot of Divine intervention as when Jesus turned the water into Ale (the Saxon translation) at the wedding at Cana.  Of course such speculation leads to certain irregularities and inconsistency on belief, however, one has to take such matters in stride and simply trust God.  Humm…trusting God, what a concept.  I think I’ve read something about that before.  Maybe my time in seminary actually has paid off.

Anyway, there is always tomorrow.  My ticket can be used in another game, which means that I will be able to take someone  with me sometime.  The beauty of the season ticket is that if you miss a game for any reason you can exchange it for another game.  I think that I will have a number of opportunities to take friends to games this year, as I am sure that the Devil will work to keep me from this wonderful gift of God. Tomorrow I go out again, same time, same seat, but hopefully better weather.

Peace,  Steve+

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April 19, 2009 · 21:16

The Church of Baseball at Harbor Park- Opening Day Tomorrow


1972-oak-park-al-rams

The 1972 Oak Park Little League Rams sponsored by Alex Spanos. I am to the left of the coach in the back row.

“Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.” Yogi Berra

Baseball is back at Harbor Park tomorrow as the Norfolk Tides take on the Charlotte Knights in their home opener. Weather could make this one a bit sporty.  Rain and thunder during the day tapering off overnight.  Hopefully my prayer vigil will succeed in persuading the Deity Herself to intervene.  This has not always been the case, a few years back the opening day was in early April.  The weather was 38 degrees with winds gusting to 45 mph coming out of center field. This was a tough game even by my hearty standards.  I finally took my ever long suffering and nearly hypothermic wife home after the 7th inning stretch.  Since then she has been wary of opening days here in Hampton Roads.

This season is cool because I have a season ticket for the first time.  Section 102, Row B Seat 2.  Right behind home plate, field level.  It doesn’t get any better than this for me.

If you haven’t figured this out yet, baseball is a passion for me.  I was out in town at a Starbucks following a meeting and I had my Tides hat and warm-up jacket.  The barista asked if I worked for them.  I simply replied “No, I’m a Priest, and a proud member of the Church of Baseball.”  This elucidated a laugh from the charmingly polite girl who promptly gave me my non-fat mocha, sans whipped creme. I’m not sure if she understood the significance of what I said, but to quote George Will: “Baseball is Heaven’s gift to mortals.”

I’ve never played for a baseball team, or softball team that won it all.  I guess in some ways I can empathize with fans of the Cubs and Giants, who wait every year to once again be disappointed as their team finds a way to salvage defeat from the jaws of victory.  This years Tides, who are the AAA farm team of the Baltimore Orioles may be up to something good.  They are 6 and 4 and seem to be playing pretty well.  They have a 5 game win streak coming into the home opener.  The Tides have 3 of the International League’s top ten hitters at this early point of the season.  Their pitchers have a team 2.60 ERA which right now is second in the league.  This is a far better start then the last few years and hopefully it bodes well for the team. When I was a kid, I used to watch the Stockton Ports of the California League when they were an Orioles farm team in the early 1970s.

The closest thing I have been to a championship baseball team was back in 1972.  I was a member of the Stockton California, Oak Park Little League Rams, sponsored by non other than Alex Spanos, the current owner of the San Diego Chargers. We were probably his first team to almost win a championship.  It seems fitting.  We wore the same colors as the Chargers and lost in the championship series, losing by a run in the final game.

I think that Little League, if you can get parents who want to run their kids teams out of the picture, is great for developing virtues that help kids later in life.  At least it did for me.  We had a great coach.  A guy named Phil Deweese. At least that’s how I think that he spelled it.  He was a great coach for us and actually spent time teaching us how to do things like hit, pitch,field and run the bases.  I did better at fielding, was a less than stellar hitter and usually played 2nd Base though occasionally I would play 3rd, Center Field or Catcher. Phil was great with us.  He taught us to have fun while working ahrd at the basics. We did well, had a great season and came close to winning the championship.  I was able to drive in a run and score a run in our one win of that series. My hitting in the playoff series was better by far than at any time in the season.He added to the things that my dad had been teaching me patiently for years in our back yard.  Unfortunately dad was deployed to Vietnam and did not see us play.

I was kind of a utility player, something that in today’s game you seldom see.  Utility players were guys that could be plugged in either in the field or as a pinch hitter.  They were not the team all stars, but could be counted on to give a solid performance.  That was me.  I kind of continued this as an adult playing softball, but more often than not ended up at 2nd base, occasional 1st or 3rd base.  I caught one year and was run over at home plate by a really big guy as I was going in the air to catch the throw from the outfield.  I landed hard enough to break my throwing arm.  At the time I was having my best year ever hitting.  After cussing the guy out I was finally pulled when it became apparent that I could not throw the ball. What is amazing to me is that I endured the pain to play another inning and even hit, an infield single.

Anyway.  This game is in my blood, God speaks to me through baseball. The ballpark it is one of the few places, besides my ICUs and a small Episcopal Church that I worship at that I can feel safe in public, praise be to PTSD.  At least the Deity has helped me in this regard.  Anyway, as I go back to my rounds about the medical center tonight I also maintain my prayer vigil for tomorrow’s weather. I can’t wait.

Peace, Steve+


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April 18, 2009 · 22:11

These Boots were Made for Walking: The Navy NWU Suede boots

Well I have been wearing the new “Navy Working Uniform” now for a couple of weeks.  This is my user evaluation. I wrote a while back about the Navy going to this uniform whose camouflage serves no real purpose, other than perhaps to help hide from sharks if you fall overboard.  In that post I compared the uniform design and look with that of other camouflage uniforms currently being used by US Forces.

As far as the uniform itself.  It is pretty comfortable.  It has a similar feel to the USMC Woodland MARPAT.  It is permanent press and very easy to care for, wash and wear all the way.  The uniform has no Velcro on it at all. This is a slight deviation from that of the Marine uniform which has Velcro to fasten the shirt pockets.  The NWU has buttons like the old BDUs, but since no pressing or starching is needed you do not need to worry about the buttons wearing through the material.  Sleeves are rolled in the “Army” style versus the traditional USN/USMC way.  This is actually easier to do than the other way and does look good.  Once you figure this way out it is really hard to screw it up. If you are purchasing them please know that they fit “larger” than the old BDUs.  I wore a large size shirt in the BDUs.  However a large in the NWU, like the MARPAT could be modified to be a double breasted suit jacket. It is big, so don’t just assume that if you wore a certain size in the BDU that it is the same as the NWU.  Try them on before you purchase four sets of NWUs on-line.

The Navy Blue T-shirts are a lot better quality than past t-shirts.  They hold their form, don’t shrink and don’t have areas where the seams are frayed or loose.  The trousers fit comfortably.  Like the USMC MARPATs there is a bit of elastic in the waist which makes them very comfortable.  The only thing that takes getting used to is the fact that the NWU, unlike every camouflage uniform that we have had since the 1980s has a zipper versus a button fly.  I am still undecided about if I like this or not.  The zipper is good quality, but takes some time getting used to on a camouflage uniform.  Let’s face it, I had gotten used to the buttons on the BDUs, DCUs and MARPATs.

Name Tapes and insignia rock on this uniform.  Since it is not a field uniform the name tapes and rank are not subdued. Enlisted members, in pay grades E1 through E6 have silver name tapes, rank insignia and warfare devices with a few exceptions such as the Navy Gold jump wings .  Chief Petty Officers have gold name tapes and rank and keep the silver enlisted devices with the same exceptions as the junior enlisted.  Officers have the gold name tapes, and rank the same color as their metal insignia, either gold or silver depending on the rank.  Officer qualification badges or warfare devices are also gold, with some exceptions such as the basic EOD badge or entry level “Army type” jump wings.  The gold colored devices really look sharp against the blue background of the uniform.  All insignia on this uniform are sewn on. Plan on spending an additional $18-$24 per uniform for sewing.  This could be cheaper, but I think that $3 a patch is pretty standard most places now days.  If you can get it done cheaper do it.

The “cover” or the “hat” to non-Naval Service types, is the traditional USN/USMC 8 point cover.  Sized in 1/8th of an inch increments it is easy to find a size that fits perfectly.  The bill can be formed into a nice shape without damaging the cover.   Rank is worn on the front panel by all pay grades.

The best things for those ashore are the suede boots.  They are steel toe safety boots.  However unlike most boots of this type they are pretty comfortable.  I spend a lot of time on my feet in the ICUs that I work in and really like them. They broke in very quickly, the fit well and my feet don’t feel sore when I leave work.  The suede upper ensures that there are no “hot spots” on ankle or Achilles tendon areas.  I am not required at this point to have the smooth leather boot since I am not on ship.  However I do not hear as good as report about the smooth leather version.  Evidently they are harder to break in and the Belville brand have similar problems to the USMC and Army Belvilles.  I had a pair of Belville’s briefly in Iraq, but they were uncomfortable and fell apart really fast.  My suede boot are made by Bates and the only real drawback to them is the price.  At $122.00 they are more expensive than the smooth leather, but I find the added comfort to be worth the cost. Boots are worn bloused as they have been with all USN and USMC camouflage uniforms.

I cannot report how they wear outside at this point.  I do think that in a hot weather climate on a stationary post that they could be quite the heat collector since they are so dark.  The overcoat, which I do not yet have seems very well made and looks like it will be a good piece of gear for cold or foul weather at sea or ashore.

Anyway, I hope this helps those who are getting ready to get this uniform and makes the Army guys jealous as their ACU Velcro sticks to everything in sight.  I was wondering if our enemies will start erecting Velcro barriers to hang our Army guys up on instead of barbed wire or concertina wire?  That would be interesting and if I was the Velcro folks I think I would start marketing that idea.  After all the economy can use all the help that it can get.

Peace, Steve+

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April 17, 2009 · 20:08

Long Goodbyes- Letting go when a parent has Alzheimer’s disease

jeff-dad-and-me-at-ca-capitol1Better Times: Jeff, Dad and Me in front of California State Capitol around 1972-1973

We all hit times of transition in our lives.  Sometimes these involves moves, job changes and relationship changes.  However the hardest seem to be the passage of generations, especially when we see our parents passing away or in their final months. Alzheimer’s disease makes that process different, it’s not like a heart attack or stroke although strokes can have a similar effect, cancer or renal failure.  Alzheimer’s takes the person that you knew away long before they die.  It is the longest of goodbyes.

My dad has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s for some time now.  He has been going down bit by bit for the past several years.  It started slow, in fact we didn’t initially notice it.  He started not remembering things and having minor fender bender accidents which we found out about later.  As he continued to go down his mental status, nervous behavior and lack of awareness increased.  As this happened my mother tried to take care of him herself, she tried hard, but was unable to cope with him.  Eventually she began to wear down.  When he fell down and broke his arm in several places last year it was the beginning of the end for him, an end that is likely fast approaching. Since he broke his arm his mental status and physical condition have deteriorated significantly.  Additionally his disease process has affected my mom, who has not taken care of herself the way that she should.

I saw him in the spring of 2007 just before I went to Iraq, and last year after my return from Iraq I made three visits to the California from my home in Virginia.  I anticipate a trip out in the relatively near future.  Neither my dad or my mom are the parents now that I grew up with, the disease has taken a toll on both of them. Of course we all think about the patient, but the closest caregiver is often worn down to nothing by the process.  This has been a process of a long goodbye for all of us.

Diseases such as Alzheimer’s are hard to deal with.  They are slow moving and because they are rob the person of who they are, difficult to watch.  Those closest to them seldom realize what is happening until things start really getting weird.  Such was the case with my mom.  my dad was having auto accidents and other problems before his diagnosis. Before this dad was active, involved with community groups and an avid golfer.  He loved all kinds of sports and to travel.

His deterioration has been most remarkable to me.  This is perhaps due to my distance away from where my folks live.  I don’t see him everyday.  Thus when I go back my benchmark for how I see him is different than that of my mom and brother.  I can see the major changes in every visit because of the distance.  Likewise I can see the deterioration in my mother’s condition with each visit.  I can see the toll that my dad’s disease has taken on her. She is not the same as she was even a few years ago.

Even though I am not in the same town, I am reminded of my parents on an almost daily basis.  In my work in the ICU of a major Naval Medical center I get to spend time with a lot of people who are a lot like my folks.  My parents are retired Navy, my dad retired as a Chief Petty Officer back in 1974.  I am a quintessential “Navy Brat.”  I grew up in it, I lived and guess that I still live for the adventure of military life.  I find that there are a couple of major sub-groups of military brats.  Those who loved it and somehow continue that type of lifestyle, and those who don’t and as soon as dad retires never look back.  They never move again if they can help it.  My brother is like that, he has remained and been very successful as a teacher, and now school principal in the town that we retired in.  He has a wonderful family and it turns out that we are a lot more alike than we are different.  I see a lot of this where I work.  It seems that a good number of the patients and families that I get to know in our ICU are my parents generation.  Their kids are often “Navy Brats” like me. We have a shared experience of life that you do not find in many other places.  It is like we are family.

While I spend time with these folks, many going through end of life situations, I often see my parents.  Every old retired Chief, or retired Chief’s wife reminds me of my folks.  They remind me of the good times and the bad.  They remind me that I am awaiting my time to be be at my parents bedsides, not as the Priest, but as the son. With every one of these visits  I am back home.  During clinical pastoral education training you are taught to recognize what is your stuff and what belongs to the patient and the family.  I’m pretty good at doing this, but even recognizing this fact, the feelings can run pretty strong.  Like the Romulan that I am I am not a big fan of emotion.

This is a long goodbye.  Alzheimer’s ensures that you do not wake up and find that your parents died suddenly and unexpectedly.  They die a little more every day. With each visit I have returned to my home and duty station wondering when I will hear that either mom or dad has passed away.

This week was hard.  I got a call from the nursing supervisor of the place where my dad is being cared for.  His condition has gotten worse, his weight is dropping rapidly, 10 pounds in the past month despite increases in diet and nutrition.  The call came at a unusual time, when I saw the number I thought that it was the call that said he had passed away.  The lady who called is an old high school classmate who not only is concerned about my dad but also my mom and she let me know that dad has lost 4 pounds in the last week. His doctor is surprised that he is still alive.  He is down to 116 pounds, and even when I saw him at 130 last year he looked really bad.

We made the  decision yesterday to make my dad a hospice patient.  He will remain where he is, but will now will receive hospice care.  The decision was another watershed.  My brother and I both have known and made our peace with the fact that my dad is in his final months or maybe even days.  The end is coming, and is sooner than it once was. It has been harder for my mom, I don’t know if she will recover, she had somehow hoped beyond hope that he would somehow regain himself.

The goodbyes to my dad have been said, but they are not finished.  When that will be is still uncertain.  Until that day things will remain in this no-man’s land between life and death.  I know that there are millions of others going through similar situations and to them I say “you are not alone.”

Peace, Steve+

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April 16, 2009 · 21:37

Here’s to you Jackie Robinson

“He led America by example. He reminded our people of what was right and he reminded them of what was wrong. I think it can be safely said today that Jackie Robnson made the United States a better nation.” – American League President Gene Budig

“Life is not a spectator sport. If you’re going to spend your whole life in the grandstand just watching what goes on, in my opinion you’re wasting your life.”  Jackie Robinson

April 15th 2009 was the 62nd anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s first game in the Major Leagues with the Brooklyn.  Robinson’s first game with the Dodgers came a full year before President Truman integrated the military and a full seven years before the Supreme Court ruled school segregation unconstitutional.  It was not until 1964 that the Voters Rights act passed in Congress.  Jackie Robinson paved the way for a change in American society that has continued for 62 years since his debut at Ebbetts Field on April 15th 1947.

Jackie’s feat was a watershed moment in the history of our country.  Blacks had struggled for years against Jim Crow laws, discrimination in voting rights, and even simple human decencies such as where they could use a rest room, what hotels they could stay in or what part of the bus that they could sit.  In baseball many white fans were upset that blacks would be coming to see Robinson in stadiums that they would not have been allowed in before.  Players from other teams heckled Robinson, he received hate mail, people sent made death threats, he was spiked and spit on.  But Jackie Robinson kept his pledge to Dodgers owner Branch Rickey not to lash out at his tormentors, as Rickey told him that he needed a man “with enough guts not to strike back.”

Jackie Robinson played the game with passion and even anger.  He took the advice of Hank Greenberg who as a Jew suffered continual racial epithets throughout his career “the best ways to combat slurs from the opposing dugout is to beat them on the field.” He would be honored as Rookie of the Year, was MVP, played in six World Series and six All Star Games.  He had a career .311 batting average, .409 on base percentage and .474 Slugging percentage. He was elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame in 1962.

Today Jackie Robinson’s feat is history, but it should not be forgotten.  He was a pioneer who made it possible for others to move forward.  He would be followed by players like Roy Campinella, Satchel Paige, Don Larson, Larry Dobie and   Willie Mays.  His breakthrough had an effect not just on baseball but on society.

Jackie Robinson would have an effect on my life.  In 1975 the Stockton Unified School District voted to desegrigate.  I was in the 9th grade and preparing for high school.  As the school board wrestled with the decision anger boiled throughout the town, especially in the more affluent areas.  Vicious letters were sent to the school board and to the Stockton Record by parents as well as other opponents of the move.  Threats of violence and predictions failure were commonplace.  In the summer of 1975 those who went out for the football team, both the sophomore and varsity squads began to practice.  Black, White, Mexican and Asian, we bonded as a team, the Edison Vikings.  By the time the first buses pulled up to the bus stops throughout town on the first day of school, the sense of foreboding ended.  Students of all races discovered common interests and goals.  New friends became guests in each others homes, and all of us became “Soul Vikes.”

30 years later the Class of 1978, the first class to be desegregated from start to finish graduated from Edison held a reunion.  Our class always had a special feel about it.  Looking back we too were pioneers, like Jackie Robinson we were far ahead of our time.  When I look at my friends on Facebook from Edison I see the same faces that I played ball, rode the bus and went to class with.   Things have changed.  Even 30 years ago none of us imagined a African American President, we believed in each other and we saw potential, but I don’t think that anyone believed that we would see this in our day.

I think that Jackie Robinson prepared the way for other pioneers of Civil Rights including Dr. Martin Luther King.  Today, 62 years plus one day, Jackie Robinson looms large not only in baseball, but for the impact of his life and actions on America.  Here’s to you Jackie Robinson.  Thank you and God bless.

Peace, Steve+

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April 15, 2009 · 22:42

Death and Taxes

As usual I procrastinated on my tax return until the last minute, got it in with a couple of hours to spare thanks to H&R Block Tax Cut 2008.  Thankfully we got some of our annual contribution to the Federal Government back.

Taxes have always made me nervous.  I remember when I was a poor college student making almost nothing having to pay what was then the astronomical sum of $250.00. This was because my employer did not withhold anything since I made almost nothing.  When you are a college student working more than one job to make ends meet and not on any scholarships, even that now laughable amount was frightening.

I remember my parents always going to this old tax accountant in our town to get their taxes done every year.  I went with either mom or dad one year, probably around February of my 9th grade year.  It was a typical cold, foggy and dank California Central Valley day.  The guy’s office was in a drab, cube shaped brick building which had burglar bars on the windows.  The place looked like a jail.  The guy looked equally drab with “coke bottle” glasses, and I couldn’t imagine anyone actually working in such an oppressive environment.  He looked like a Troll. But year after year my parents would trudge down to this guy’s office to have their taxes done.  Of course this was way before the Internet and programs like Tax Cut or Turbo Tax were not even imagined.  I think it was seeing how depressing the tax accountant’s life was put the fear of God in me.  I never wanted to live like that, so I probably over-react.  I wait until almost the last minute to file frantically digging through my files, gift receipts and other documents to ensure that I file an accurate return and not end up in jail.  Doing things this way probably means that I will never get the full credit that I am do, but what can I say?  Instead of just blaming it on my parents tax accountant I can also use the stress of PTSD to explain my procrastination.  I do have to admit that the past two years have been more stressful in doing these things despite having things that make it far easier to do.

Today was also the day that I had to go in for my Periodic Health Assessment (PHA) mandated by the Navy. As far as I can tell I am doing a bit better than last year and appear to be pretty healthy, knock on wood.  I also got back up to about 4 miles for my PT run.  This made me feel really good because I have struggled a lot physically this year with various injuries to shoulders, ankles and joints in my legs. So Lord willing I think I should wake up tomorrow on this side of the dirt. I’ll check the obituaries when I wake up just to make sure.

Peace, Steve+

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April 14, 2009 · 21:21

Minor Holy Days…The Tapping of the Maibock

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Today was the occasion of a minor feast at the beginning of the Easter season. Of course such things are important.  As Benjamin Franklin said “Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”

Today was the “tapping of the Maibock” a seasonal Lager at Gordon Biersch here in Virginia Beach.  We always attend the “tapping” of the new seasonal brew.  As I noted in a previous post entitled “the Fellowship of the Pub,” these are important events, especially in a season that is is a festival, such is Easter.  Patently the season of Easter being of course the season of the Resurrection and worthy of celebration.  Lent is over, and it is time to celebrate.  I’m glad that the folks at Gordon Biersch, whether intentionally or unintentionally waited until after Lent was over to re-introduce this seasonal lager.  After all as Martin Luther said: “It is better to think of church in the ale-house than think of the ale-house in church.”

It seems to me that God does indeed care for us, that She would indeed give us such a drink for our edification.  Jesus of course is not quoted about beer, but he did make some good wine, at least according the the chief wine steward at Cana. I’m sure had the Hebrews been more into beer than wine that he would have turned the water into beer.  However, Michael Jackson, a British historian  notes: “in the Saxon account of the Marriage Feast at Cana, where Jesus allegedly turned water into wine, ‘ale vats’ lined the room.”  The question that Jackson asks is “Was this a Saxon misunderstanding? Or did the Greeks introduce ‘wine’ from the Aramaic ‘strong drink”‘? Did Jesus actually turn water into beer?”

Being that my “inner nationality” according to a recent quiz that I answered is German, I have to side with the Saxons on this.  No offense to the Greeks, but obviously this had to be beer.  My logic is this.  God loves us, God made beer, and vats or kegs of beer are more likely to be at at wedding than vats of wine. Wine obviously would have been a more expensive drink and in would have come in wine-skins, not vats, at least not at a wedding. Since it is clear that the hosts of the wedding were obviously trying to cut costs we have to be skeptical of the claim that this was wine.  We also have to note that the stewards said that what Jesus made was better than what they had on hand.  It is patently obvious to me that Jesus produced a really good beer, or possibly an ale and not wine. Since Jesus is fully God and fully man then what Saint Arnold of Metz, the patron saint of brewers said is true: “From man’s sweat and God’s love, beer came into the world.”

Peace and blessings, Steve+

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April 13, 2009 · 20:00

The Call

Note:  To clear up some confusion my references to “The Deity Herself.”  God is neither male nor female and Scripture records that God made Man and Woman in his image, not just Man.  Likewise there are both male and female images used in the Hebrew which refer to God.  I am not turning to “goddess worship” if anyone is concerned. I patently, as anyone who knows me well, understand God within the accepted bounds of the Trinity.  My use of the female imagery is for the most part to get people to think and maybe actually notice that I am referring to God. Maybe too it will encourage women who have been hurt or victimized by men, especially abusive fathers to see that the Christian message is not something that excludes them.  While some may not approve, or even think that I have succumbed to “political correctness,”  I see this as legitimate use of the language, which because of its limited nature can never fully show us the glory of God. Peace and Blessings, Steve+

I’ve been asked by some how I was “called” into the ministry or my vocation as a Priest and Chaplain.  I have done a lot, I mean really a lot of reflecting on this over the years.  Honestly, I don’t really know how it happened.  I mean I like sort of know, but the “how it happened” is pretty much a God thing I guess.  Looking back I think I get it, but am still amazed that I get to do what I get to do.  To use the words of Elton John “I’m still standing after all these years.” The reason I say this is because I’m NOT the greatest theologian, preacher, pastor, or even chaplain around.  Likewise, I know that I am certainly not among the most “spiritual.”  For me the Christian life takes work, really hard work.  There are guys and gals around who who can do circles around me in most of these facets of the Christian life and ministry.   Now on the other hand I don’t think that I drag up the rear, but I’m not going to over play my hand.  There are things that I think that I do pretty well, but I consider myself kind of a journeyman.

General George Patton recounted in his memoirs that “he prayed that he would never get ‘the Call’ because he knew that he would have to leave the Army.”  In some ways I think I can understand that.  Now I know that I was called.  In fact that call probably goes back to a pretty early age.  I found among things grandmother had saved a short paper I had written in the 4th Grade about Easter.  It was not about the Easter Bunny but it was about the Resurrection of Jesus.  So I guess that I had some kind of faith stuff going on back that far.  I think that the first inkling of a call came when I was 11 or 12. At the time the Roman Catholic Chaplain at our base took care of my Protestant family when a local church Sunday School teacher told me that my dad was a baby killer.  Toward the end of high I felt  that call during a NJROTC cadet cruise from San Diego to Pearl Harbor and back.  I wrote my grand parents that I felt that I was being called to be a Navy Chaplain.  I did a short term mission with a Christian Singing group called the Continental Singers and Orchestra in the summer of 1979.  By the way I was the spotlight tech, I did not sing, the Deity Herself was wise enough not to inflict my “joyful noise” on our audiences.  That trip was remarkable, but when I was getting ready for it my local church had a nasty split.  As a result I got caught in the middle of it.  I was in military parlance “collateral damage.” To tell the truth, that experience was kind of sucky.

That was rough, in fact my reaction was to withdraw.  I left that church when I returned and started attending the church of my girlfriend. Patently she is now my ever patient and long suffering wife.  The poor girl should have realized what she was getting into with me when about a month into our dating relationship I left for three months.   Yet she has persevered.

What I figured during this time was that the Deity and I would make a deal.  I would stay in church.  I would even teach Sunday School, and that I would go in the military as a “good Christian officer.” She being the Deity of course would agree to that deal, everything would be copasetic and we would cooperate on my terms.  Pretty arrogant for a 20 year old, but hey, like most young people I had my really dumb moments.  She of course had other plans….

So I went in the Army because Judy forbade me to join the Navy.  She had good reason. Her two sisters married knuckle-headed sailors who were always deployed.  Neither of course were good husbands.  She however let me go into the Army.  I said “cool beans” and I thought I was on my way to fulfilling the deal I had made with the Deity.  As I made my way through my young Army career it seemed that She used very unfair and devious means to rub the call in my face.  Chapel friends would tell me that I needed to stop running from God.  A good friend left the Army for seminary.  In fact the good Deity ensured that I was miserable even though I loved being an Army officer.  Finally in 1987 She used my Brigade XO, LTC Ike Adams to kick me in the teeth. We would run together at lunch. One day while running he asked: “Hey Captain, what do you think your doing with the rest of your life?”  I responded in typical junior Army officer fashion: “Well, I’m going to the Advanced Course, take another Company and after that get promoted to Major.”  I mean I had this planned out, and then he cut me off…”Well I don’t think that’s what God has in mind, you were called to the ministry and are running from it.”

If there was ever an “oh crap” moment, this was it.  People had been pinging on me for five or six years about this, but nobody, ever ever  dropped the bomb like that.  I could have died.  I had never mentioned anything about this to the man. Yet here he was, or God was, reading my mail.  This was not fun.  So I asked him: “How do you know?”  I was stunned by the reply.  “Well the Holy Spirit revealed it to me.”  Now Ike was not and is not a flake.  He was a Social Worker and career Army officer.  He retired from the Army and went to Asbury Seminary where he got his M.Div and University of Kentucky where he picked up his Ph.D.  He’s now the Chair of the Social Work Department at Asbury College.  Shaken by the incident I took myself home.  I told the long suffering Judy what had happened.  She told me “Well I could have told you that.”

So a year and some change later I left the Army to go to seminary.  I was accepted at Asbury, Austin Presbyterian and Southwestern Baptist.  I chose Southwestern for the simple reason that it was cheaper.  Back in those days before the Fundamentalist takeover of the seminaries, the Southern Baptist “Cooperative Fund” underwrote the majority of even non-Southern Baptist students tuition.  What would have been a $5,000 per semester or so bill was reduced to $1,000 a semester give or take a bit depending on the semester.  It was a good thing, because seminary was hell on earth.  How we made it through that ordeal is beyond me. It was like going through the gauntlet of Klingon Pain Sticks in the Rite of Ascension.

First Judy got sick and had to leave her job, a crummy one working for the government in an office rife with sexual harassment.  I left active duty during the Texas Oil bust of 1988.  I couldn’t get a job.  Seminary students without a technical skill were a dime a dozen, and the attitude of many employers was that they didn’t need you and if they did, they would not pay you much.  We lost everything, I mean almost everything but our books and our dogs.  We lost our house, our cars, and were pretty much poverty stricken despite working  full time in social service agencies, night shelters, pizza parlors and part time as a janitor.  Finally I had to take a semester off just to try to get back on our feet.

About that time I was accepted into the Chaplain Candidate program in the National Guard.  I got back in school, but once again came to a point were my job was drying up and with it the money I needed to go to seminary.  I had been given my two week notice.  I was the highest paid hourly worker, expenses had to be cut and I was gone.  At that point I thought stick a fork in me, I’m done.  I took my last finals that semester in absolute despair thinking that all had gone for naught.  Walking down the hallway in tears I met a couple of my Professors, my Church history and Missiology professors. They saw me.  Both simply let me cry and then prayed for me.  I got home that afternoon, ready to quit. I figured that it was over and that I had failed. I was going to find a regular job and start over, maybe go back in the Army.  As I walked in the door the phone rang and I got a call from a Christian ministry that Judy forced me to apply to. They offered me a job doing counseling.  It paid better than anything I had since the Army and even had, get this, tuition assistance and medical benefits.   Now we still had some more rough times but somehow God got us through this incredibly difficult but formative time in our lives.  I think that She was ensuring that I would be able to care for those going through similar circumstances and never let me forget Her care and assistance as I slogged my way through seminary.  The weird thing about seminary was that this independent evangelical guy came out on the Anglican and Catholic side of life.  I had my Baptist and Assembly of God friends ask me if I was a “closet Catholic or Anglican.” Believe me, that was not a cool thing to be asked in a Southern Baptist Seminary that was getting hit hard by a Fundamentalist assault.

I finished seminary and was ordained in 1992, at which time I also became a National Guard Chaplain.  I did a Clinical Pastoral Education Residency at Parkland Hospital in Dallas from 1993-94.  That was an experience that helped me continue my education, formation and discernment at I continued to track in this Anglican-Catholic manner.  On top of this Judy became Catholic in 1994 and we moved to West Virginia where I took my first post CPE Chaplain job. This was a contract position at a hospital in the town where my parents were from and where my both of my grand mothers lived.  Unfortunately I worked bad hours and spent weekends on call at the hospital or with the National Guard or Reserves.  I had no fellowship, pretty much no life outside the hospital.  I was isolated and I knew that I did not fit in many of the churches in the town.  At a chaplain conference I met a Priest from a Anglican “Continuing Church” who told me about the Charismatic Episcopal Church in 1995.  My friend told me that he thought that it would be a good place for me.  I met with the local bishop and in July 1996 I was ordained as a Priest.  It should have been September, but the time-line was moved forward when I was mobilized for the Bosnia operation.  The day before my ordination my bishop made a comment to me.  He said that this was no longer about simply “doing ministry.”  He said it was about a Sacramental Grace that was ontological in nature.   In other words, it was something that God would do to change me in that Sacrament.

When I was mobilized I lost my contract job.  Thankfully, the Army managed to find ways to keep me employed as a base chaplain when I returned from Europe. This let to a string of events which eventually led me to the Navy Chaplain Corps.  I know that my call is that of a Priest.  That now is my identity, though I function as a Chaplain within that vocation.  I have been blessed in every assignment with wonderful people and almost in every place a supportive atmosphere.  My long military and Chaplain experience has helped me not screw up a lot since coming to the Navy.  I had made plenty of mistakes in the Army. The cool thing is that like changing services is like going from the National League to the American League in mid-season. All of your stats start over.  Kind of like the Bible says, “old things passed away, behold all things become new.”

I am a proud journeyman. I love what I do and the people that I work with and serve.  At the same time one day I will retire from the Navy.  I am sure that the Deity Herself will patently guide me into whatever She has for me as a Priest in her Church. I cannot imagine anything else.  I love being a mentor to young people, especially young ministers and seminarians.  If I have my way I hope to be serving as a Priest until the day that I’m really finished.  This is not about preaching, it is about serving God’s people, in Word and in Sacrament in whatever capacity the church decides to use me until I am done. I figure that since Jesus and the Holy Spirit and a whole lot of persistence  have gotten me this far that it must be right.

I hope that this somewhat explains my call and vocation as a Priest.  It has been to use the words of Jerry Garcia: “A long strange trip.”

Peace, Steve+

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April 12, 2009 · 14:40

Alleluia! Memories of Easter…Past and Present

easter-2002-on-hue-cityEaster aboard USS Hue City CG-66 off the Horn of Africa 2002

I find Easter to be an interesting time.  I tend to get reflective and while I do joyfully say “Alleluia! Christ is Risen!” I also tend to be somewhat subdued.  By nature I am reflective person, I like to watch, observe and think.  I am not into big Easter productions and extravaganzas. I prefer much more simple expressions of the Risen Lord.  I think that Jesus would go along with me on this as he spent that first Easter walking with friends, who failed to recognize him, and then breaking bread, he celebrated the first Eucharist after the Resurrection at Emmaus.

For me my most memorable Easters have been connected with my life in the military.  They have almost always been simple affairs, and most involving the liturgy somehow.  I think the first Easter that I remember was at Cubi Point Naval Air Station in the Philippines, it was seeing the Chaplains in their Summer White uniforms that still stands out to me today.  I remember a Easter Sunrise service at Naval Station Long Beach and looking in wonder at two “mothballed” carriers of World War II vintage, the USS Boxer and USS Princeton moored near the site of the service on the waterfront.  When my dad was in Vietnam and we had been made unwelcome in a civilian church, we attended Mass at the Quonset hut that served as the Chapel on the little Naval Communications station.  In my senior year of high school I made a cruise on Navy ships to and from Pearl Harbor Hawaii.  During the week at Pearl I made the trip to the Arizona Memorial on Easter Sunday.  For some reason that experience reverberated as loud as any church service I have ever attended.  When I was a young Army Officer running from God and hiding in the Chapel, the Deity Herself patently used the events of Holy Week to “rend my heart” so to speak.  I left the Good Friday Tenebrea service praying that Easter would come.  Our good Lutheran Chaplain, Lee Rittenbach had driven home the reality of Jesus’ death so well that I really started to understand what the disciples went through.  When Easter came I learned to say “Alleluia! Christ is Risen!”

After that I went through kind of a spiritual desert as far as Easter was concerned.  In seminary I was attending mega-churches which did nothing with Holy week, and made a big evangelical production of Easter, complete with overly loud and insipidly shallow “worship” music and laborious preaching.  I have to say that these big productions were more of an ordeal than a celebration for me.  During seminary we were going through sickness, financial disaster, loss of our home, cars and struggling to survive working multiple jobs while being a full time student.  How we got through seminary I will never understand, other than that the Deity herself provided for us through a lot of wonderful people.  The “happy talk” at church, the prosperity Gospel, focus on signs and wonders seemed to reflect almost a gnostic other worldly view of life that I did not see in the Scriptures.

Academically and from a theological point of view Easter began to rally take shape for me.  Reading the Church Fathers as well reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s The Cost of Discipleship, Emil Brunner’s The Scandal of Christianity, Alister McGrath’s The Mystery of the Cross, Hans Kung’s On Being a Christian and Jurgen Moltman’s The Crucified God brought me to greater understanding of the connectedness of Easter to the Incarnation and the Passion.  One of my professors, a kindly gentleman named Yandall Woodfin, made a comment in his Philosophy of Religion class:  “We do not do Christian Theology without coming to grips with the reality of suffering and death.”  That comment was at first offensive to me because my mega-church pastors all focused on the Resurrection.  Death to them seemed to be a bother. One pastor said in a sermon how he did not do visits to the sick.  When asked by someone how sick they had to be for him to see them, he stated “You don’t want to be that sick.”

However, what Dr. Woodfin said planted a seed in me.  This went from an academic question, to daily reality during my Clinical Pastoral Education Residency at Parkland hospital.  Doing various Holy Week services there, in the midst of the amazing amount of pain, suffering and death in that gargantuan Medical Center brought into focus and made real what Dr. Woodfin said.  At Parkland there was no avoiding death or suffering, and what Dr. Woodfin said was right.  We don’t begin to do Christian theology until we we deal with suffering and death.  Easter and the Resurrection don’t happen without the Incarnation and Passion of Jesus.  Easter disconnected from the reality of suffering and death is nothing more than a “happy thought” or escape that avoids the the great Mystery of Faith: Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.

After Parkland my understanding of Easter grew as I was immersed in the liturgy, began to observe the liturgical year, and occasionally “clandestinely” attend Anglican churches during Christmas and Easter. During this time Judy became Roman Catholic, something that accelerated what was already going on in me.  During my formation process and following my ordination to first the Deaconate and then the Priesthood, the understanding deepened as I saw how the Gospel in Word and Sacrament. As an Army Reserve chaplain serving on active duty I experienced the life of a parish pastor at a small base in central Pennsylvania.  There I saw how the how the liturgical year and life are so intimately connect.  In life and death, in sorrow and joy, in good times and bad, the Holy Spirit touched people.

Easter became even more part of my life when I became a Navy Chaplain and left the Army in the “rear view mirror.”  Here I began to see how wonderful Easter is when you do not have all the “smells and bells” “praise teams” or great music or facilities.  It goes back to simplicity.  On Easter Sunday 2001, I was on the USS Frederick, LST 1184 with my Marines going from Korea back to Okinawa.  It was on Frederick 23 years before that I had first felt the call to be a Navy Chaplain during the trip to Pearl Harbor.  In 2002 I was deployed on USS Hue City CG-66 at the beginning of Operation Enduring Freedom. Off the Horn of Africa we had both sunrise services as well as a morning Eucharist on our flight deck. While with the Marine Security Forces I spent an Easter celebrating Eucharist on the fence-line adjoining Communist Cuba.  I now have come back to critical care hospital ministry in my ICUs.  Here we live Good Friday every day.  For me Easter is not just a nice thing to observe, but a necessity in life.

This morning I attended the early Mass with Judy at Ascension Catholic Church.  I love the church, though it is a bit big and busy for me now after Iraq.  So I found me a corner near the choir where I could sit with my back against the wall, an emergency exit to my left, and where I could observe what was going on.  Yes I was having a PTSD moment, but I got through it with the help of the Deity herself and a little ant-anxiety medication.  But the really cool thing was seeing a man who was one of our patients on the ICU a couple of months back.  A man who almost died on us several times, and his wife.  We had grown close during that 2 1/2 weeks and he made it through.  He looked great this morning.  We all hugged and talked of how good God is before Mass, exchanged the Peace and then spent some time together after Mass. That was really cool.  What a way to celebrate Easter.

Life and death, pain and suffering, healing and resurrection.  Alleluia, Christ is Risen. The Lord is Risen indeed. Alleluia!

Peace, Steve+

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April 11, 2009 · 19:19

In Memorium: Chief John Ness and LCDR Jim Breedlove USN

breedlove-ness2

LCDR Jim Breedlove (Left) and Senior Chief John Ness 1975-76 Edison High School NJROTC

I have found that as I get older I find there are moments where eras end.  Today was one of those days. I came home from my overnight on call at the Medical Center I checked my e-mail and found a message from Maggie Ness.  She was the wife of my1st year NJROTC at Edison High School, Stockton California, Chief Petty Officer John Ness. She wrote to inform us that John had passed away on Good Friday after a long illness.

The death of “Chief” was expected.  As I said he had been sick for many years and had come back home in hospice care. His death followed that of our Senior Instructor and Detachment OIC, LCDR Jim Breedlove by about 14 months.  LCDR Breedlove died unexpectedly after a short illness shortly before I returned from Iraq last January.  Both of these men had a profound influence on me and taught me many lessons.  From them I learned a lot about responsibility, honor and commitment.

They had founded the detachment in the early 1970s which was not when you think about it a great time to begin any military activity on any campus as Vietnam was winding  down.  Both men had recently retired from the Navy.  LCDR Breedlove was  what we would now call a Surface Warfare Officer who spent a lot of his career in ship’s Engineering Departments serving often as the Chief Engineer.  Chief was a Cryptologic Technician.  In short, a codebreaker.  Chief has spent a lot of his career working in the intelligence side of the house.

These men were the glue that helped guide me through high school.  Their efforts expanded my world.  My world had become much smaller when my dad retired from the Navy in 1974 and I was miserable.  Yet because of these men  my world expanded, in fact the world again became a place of wonder.  During the fall of my sophomore year I was able to go to San Diego and ride the USS Agerholm DD-826 up the coast and home.  Later in the fall we went to Mare Island to spend time with the “Riverine” forces of Coastal River Division XI.  That spring I went to a “mini-boot camp” at NTC San Diego.  The next summer I spent a couple of weeks on the USS Coral Sea CV-43 and get some “on the job training” in the ship’s Medical Department.  On Coral Sea I was able to see the intricate workings of flight operations on a aircraft carrier. Coming back to school we got a ride on the USS Pyro AE-25 a ammunition ship based out of Alameda California.  On Pyro I met a Navy Chaplain and talked with him about the chaplaincy.  I also saw my first burial at sea.  The next winter we traveled to Portland Oregon to board the USS Mount Vernon LST-39 coming out of the yards and going back to California.  My senior year was the highlight of my time in High School.  A group of us went down to San Diego and took USS Frederick LST-1184 from San Diego to Pearl Harbor. We spent a week at Pearl seeing the history of the base, the USS Arizona and USS Utah memorials and spent Easter Sunday there.  While there I spent a day snorkeling at Hanauma Bay and came out with the sunburn from Hell.  One of my friends, Jeff Vanover still remembers me as the “Lobster man” after that experience.  We rode the USS Gray FF-1054 back to San Diego and again learned a lot. On Gray I met with a destroyer squadron chaplain and learned more about the Chaplaincy.  I sent a post card to my grandparents from the Gray.   I found it when visiting my grandmother in 1995.  It said: “Dear Ma Maw and Pa Paw, I think that God is calling me to be a Navy Chaplain.”  At the time I was a civilian hospital and Army Reserve Chaplain,. I chucked and to her that “At least I got the chaplain part right.”  I had no idea that the Deity herself would lead me into the Navy a few short years later.  Other Cadets went on other cruises.  Several rode the USS Blue Ridge LCC-19 to Acuploco Mexico.  Others went on a Coast Guard cutter for 60 days in the summer on Alsakan fisheries patrol.

There are several things to note about the Hawaii trip.  It was over three weeks long, which because part of the time was Easter break (yes it was still Easter back then) we missed two weeks of school.  Some people would say that this would hurt students academicly, but I think not.  Sometimes I think that kids need to get out and see the world under the care and supervision of mature people. You can always catch up on academics, but to experience the world is something most kids miss out on. Commander Breedlove and Chief Ness gave us the chance to explore and see things that other kids would never see.  For me the more important facets were that the trip put in my heart a love of the sea, and the call to be a Navy Chaplain while on Frederick, something that was driven home at Pearl Harbor and coming back on the Gray.  Even more interesting was that in April 2001, about 23 years after that I celebrated my first  Holy Eucharist underway on Frederick. She was then the last LST on active service in the US Navy when she picked my Marine unit up in Pohang South Korea.  The Eucharist happened to be on Easter Sunday.  Talk about almost impossible occurrences. If there is such a thing as confirmation of where you are supposed to be, I think that this qualifies.

Anyway, those are experiences that these two men allowed us to experience.  I don’t know of many high school students who got to spend about 70 days underway on Navy ships and have all the other experiences that these emn allowed us to have.

Now it is time for some “Sea Stories.”  Chief Ness was a colorful man, as many Chiefs of his era were.  If you have seen the movie Men of Honor you can get to understand a little bit of the Navy culture that shaped Chief Ness.  He was not profane like Robert DeNiro’s character, Master Chief Billy Sunday, but he was a man who pushed us.  He was to often blunt and to the point. At the same time he was caring while not taking any crap from anyone.  He taught us to were the uniform correctly, close order drill, basic seamanship and other subjects that would be common to any new sailor.  As far as academics, he was a good teacher.  Like I said he didn’t take any crap.  We had a couple of guys who cheated on a test that sophomore year, both scoring an “A.”  Chief caught them, it’s hard to fool a codebreaker.  He brought them to the front of the class and told them that they would each get half on an “A.”  They both thought that meant a “C.”  Instead chief drew an “A” on the chalkboard and erased the right half of the letter, leaving the figure of an “F.”  He also taught us to be on time. Something that in my later years I have become almost pathological about.  We were getting on a bus to go to NTC San Diego.  There was one Cadet who was late.  At the appointed hour Chief directed the bus to start moving although a car was pulling into the parking lot and the cadet was getting out.  The Cadet did not make an effort to flag down or chase the bus, so Chief left him.  He then told us if the young man had made an effort that he would have stopped the bus, but the Navy would not delay a ship’s departure for one person and that we needed to see the consequences of being “UA.”  He also had an award that he gave to Cadets who had problems goofing things up.  It was a 10 pound shot put mounted on a plaque.  He called it the “Iron Ball” award for people who could “foul up an iron ball.”  He let us settle our class grades.  He used a “Bell curve” to do our final grade.  A the end of the quarter he would put every student’s cumulative point total on the board with no names shown.  He would then ask us to figure out who should get what grades using the Bell curve as our standard.  Thus we selected 10% for “A’s” 20% for “B’s” 40% for “C’s” 20% for “D’s” and 10% for “F’s.”  Now he allowed some room for maneuver if there were natural big breaks between scores, but he made us make the decision. He did because he knew that we would all have to make hard decisions that impacted other people later in life and that we had to learn that lesson early.  Chief almost always had his ever-present cup of black coffee, with a ceramic frog inside of it eyes looking up.  We used to joke that his forefinger was permanently molded ino the shape of a coffee mug handle. Chief had a heart of gold. He had nicknames for us, and he gave us a hard time, but when we were down he wouldn’t kick us.  He taught leadership lessons that I will not forget.

LCDR Breedlove was my mentor and later in life friend.  He taught us more advanced Naval subjects including Naval History, Law and customs.  He also taught us navigation, damage control, weapons systems and combat systems. He arranged for all of our trips and went with us on many of them.  In short he began to teach us to be Naval Officers. After I graduated I staying in contact with Jim.  He was always excited to hear what was going on in my life. Whenever I went home to visit my family I always set aside time to meet him for lunch and have a couple of beers together.  He was a gentleman, a family man and a Christian. His death, coming at the end of my time in Iraq was devastating.  We had stayed in contact during the deployment and his sudden death shook me.  I have been looking forward to once again sharing a meal and a beer or two together.

I have gone on a little long, but these two men meant a lot to me.  They were fine men, loved their families and cared enough for us to let us hard lessons before they became lessons that would kill us later in life.  A fair number of us went into the military, some for just an enlistment and others for full careers.  I’m the last of our class on active duty.  I even met one of my classmates when I was an Army Lieutenant going through West Berlin back in late 1986.  We had been in Chief’s class that first year and he happened to recognize me.

Tomorrow is Easter and I know that John and Jim are present with God.  Pray for their families, especially Maggie. May their souls and the souls of all the departed, rest in peace.

Peace, Steve+

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