An Election Day Weave of Life Lessons from Big D

Today, I have a lot on my mind. It is the 22nd anniversary of my Dad, Big D, passing, and it is election day.  So, in honor of my Dad, to celebrate our democracy and organize the many thoughts in my head, I will attempt what former President Trump calls the weave.   

My definition of the weave is connecting several lines of disparate thought to develop a consistent theme.   Today’s weave will hopefully create a tapestry of life lessons that lead to wellness.  The thread that ties this weave together is the many lessons I learned from my father and how they have helped me become a better person.  So, let’s start weaving.

Big Russ and Me

I find myself missing Tim Russert this election day. Tim Russert was and still is my favorite journalist. He was the epitome of authenticity and enthusiasm for our democracy. The longtime host of Meet the Press, he was thorough, insightful, and always civil but challenging in his questioning.  I used to watch Meet the Press every Sunday but now seldom watch Sunday news programs.

Another reason I miss Tim Russert is his dedication to family. He wrote one of my favorite memoirs, Big Russ &  Me, about his relationship with his father, Big Russ, and the lessons he learned from him. 

Big Russ and Tim’s relationship reminded me of my one with my Dad, Big D.   The similarities are uncanny. Both raised four children with their wives, did not finish high school, had blue-collar jobs, and served in the military.   Believe it or not, both worked on a Garbage truck.  But most importantly, they both taught life lessons that made their sons better people.

I will not write a book like Tim for this election day weave of lessons (although I could and will someday).  Instead, I will provide the top five lessons I learned from my Dad, resonating even more loudly 22 years after his passing.

Get the Iron Out of the Door.   

What is the iron? Where’s the door?  Iron refers to large turbines that generate electricity in dams.   Big D was a steelworker/machinist, and it was his job to repair the turbines and get them out the door as quickly as possible to their destinations worldwide.  Equally important was ensuring the turbines did not have to come back through the door: this required diligence, consistency, and hard work.    

The lesson is to learn your craft, roll up your sleeves, and work daily at your vocation and for your family.  Worry more about your friends and family than the election, For more on this lesson and how I applied it to my career in information technology, please read my blog, Getting the Iron Out the Door.

There is Always Room for Improvement. 

My dad was good at getting the iron out the door, but he always looked for ways to make his team get it done faster, cheaper, and with higher quality. Likewise, he taught us that no matter how well you do, there is always room for improvement. 

He applied this lesson to his personal life.  As mentioned earlier, Big D and Big Russ had not graduated high school.  My dad left school to help his mom and family and entered the Air Force. He got his GED, machinist journeyman certification, and further education in a community college. 

I remember him returning after overtime at DeLaval and practicing the words fuma and puma in Spanish very intently.  Over 50 years later, I can still hear him practicing to better communicate with his fellow union workers. 

One more story about improvement from this lesson.  Improvement does not come quickly.  You must make slow, steady practice.  Big D  demonstrated this aspect by building a lake on his retirement property. 

I remember the first time my Dad started building the lake.  He had just got the backhoe and had begun scraping out a ditch.  He took my brother and me out there.  Then, pointing to a muddy gouge with a few puddles, he said proudly, “Look at my lake!”. 

My brother and I started laughing.  Dad said, “Why are you laughing?”.  My bother pointed out, “Dad, when you say lake, it connotates images of water!  This is not a lake. It is a puddle.”  Dad just shook his head, climbed in his backhoe, and said, “You will see smart alecks.” 

And we saw.  A year or two later, there was a full-fledged lake.  The following year, fish were in the lake and on a dock.  But Dad kept tweaking the lake up to the day he died. 

We wondered why he did this since he proved his point and gave us our initial lesson.   Having returned to the land recently with the direct coordinates in hand,  I found an aerial picture revealing he built the lake in the shape of Texas!  If you want to see the before and after pictures, read our blog, The Return: Have A Vision as Big as Texas.  And always look for ways to improve!

Be Tough, But Have A Heart.   

One area in which my Dad did not need much improvement was toughness. My brother tells a great story about my Dad at one of the campouts that Dad hosted for my brother’s fraternity.  Big D had fallen asleep too close to the fire, and one of his cowboy boots started burning!  The fraternity brothers shook my Dad awake, yelling Big D! Big D! Your boot is on fire.  Big D, not batting an eye, took off the boot, smashed it in the dirt, extinguished the fire, and said, “I am the toughest SOB that ever walked the face of the earth.” 

Big D was tough due to his childhood, but he still had a big heart. He taught us that you must be firm but fair and have a heart for others. I best learned this lesson when I ran away from home. 

When I was 16, I made the rash decision to run away. I was distressed that I was moving away from my home in New Jersey and losing my friends. I thought the world was ending, but really, it was only beginning.

I do not know how he knew where I was going, but my Dad found me. He told me that he was sorry and that I was tough. He then explained that we needed to move to Texas to make a better life. He then hugged me, and I got in the car. There was no yelling. There was only love. 

You can read more about this story and other lessons in the blog: The Lesson Learned When Running Away.

Be Part of the Community.

Another thing that my dad instilled in me was the power of community.  My dad was our Cub Master,  our baseball and basketball coach,  a Union Vice President, a softball player, and a member of several men’s clubs.    He also had diverse friends and included some of our friends in our family. 

I carry with me the importance of community. I am a leader or participant in several civic organizations. The lesson I learned from Big D about community was threefold.

First, he led or was present in our activities to be part of his children’s lives. Second, when you meet people face to face, it is hard to stay in an argument.  You can cast aspersions on someone on Facebook without truly facing them.  It is tough to hold a grudge or an argument when you have to see the person the following week.  Last, when we act in the community, we build others up instead of tearing them down.  We become stronger when we act as a team.

The First and Last Lesson – Be Thankful. 

Big D was always thankful for his community and friends and was unafraid to show it. I will miss the heartfelt prayers of thanks my dad used to say before Thanksgiving dinner. They were simple but profound and gave thanks for all that was given to our family. 

But I will never forget the first Thanksgiving without him and the miracle provided us in his remembrance. I recommend you read the full Thanksgiving Cows blog here, but here is a synopsis and the lesson. 

Two weeks after Big D died, we went to my dad and mom’s ranch one last time for Thanksgiving. The ten cows he was raising were all expecting.

As we rounded the bend, my family saw two new baby calves. During the rest of Thanksgiving, a new calf was born about every hour, so there were nine near dinner time. However, one cow, Rosie, had a problem birthing her calf.  

After much chasing and antics, we finally got Rosie in the truck and took her to the veterinarian.  We did not have Thanksgiving dinner, but I would not have missed the event for the best food in the world.

I had never seen a calf being born; it was a tremendous sight. The vet wrapped a rope around the half-born calf and pulled it. The calf was born after a few moments that seemed like an eternity. After lying on the ground for a few moments, the calf made its first few steps and was alive.

At that moment, despite missing Thanksgiving Dinner, I was never more thankful. I was grateful for my dad’s gift of the cows, and I was thankful for the timing and happiness that the calves’ birth gave me and my family.

Whenever I feel let down or frustrated, I think back to the story of the Thanksgiving calves. And that is a Game Changer. Counting your blessings can change your attitude to one of positivity. It can lift you out of the despair of failure and toward the hope of tomorrow. 

The End of the Weave, Hope for Tomorrow. We close our weave by coming full circle to tomorrow’s election. Whether your candidate wins or not, let’s remember the lessons of Big D.  Wake up tomorrow to get the iron out the door and food on your family’s plate.  Look for ways to improve yourself and those around you.  Be passionate about your beliefs, but have a heart for those who may differ.  And most of all,  Join in the community and be thankful for this great country.  We owe it to the legacy of Big D and Big Russ.

Christmas in Crosswicks

Christmas is meant for community. We are brought together each year by the light that came into the world.  This joy is to be shared among friends, family, and neighbors!   

I remember sharing this joy and love in my hometown of Crosswicks, NJ.  I have written two other blogs on Crosswicks linked here if you want to read more.   American Anthem: More Crosswicks less Crosswise A Penny A Minute, A Lifetime of Lessons

I decided to write this blog after seeing several pictures of my old hometown from my childhood and current friend, Katherine Caldwell.  Other pictures are in the video at the end, also produced by Katherine Caldwell with a new song to an old tune from me.  But the one below of Main Street blanketed in snow got me dreaming of Christmas in Crosswicks.

Crosswicks in Snow image by Katherine Caldwell

I never tire of thinking of Christmas in my hometown.   The snow glistening in the trees.  The 100+ year old Christmas tree bursting into light!  Neighbors singing Christmas Carols around a bonfire and later warming themselves with hot apple cider.  The candlelight service in the 200-year-old Quaker Meeting House.    There are four main reasons Christmas in Crosswicks is special and makes the holiday shine brighter.   

1. Christmas in Crosswicks is Historic!  Crosswicks was settled by Quaker immigrants back in 1677.  Christmas celebrations and worship have been ongoing ever since.  The Quaker Meeting House that still stands and holds the annual Candlelight service each Christmas was built in 1773.    This years’ service went virtual except for the musicians due to COVID on Dec. 20, keeping the tradition unbroken. 

The Christmas of 1776 is particularly noteworthy. Crosswicks was occupied by Colonial troops of  General Cadwallader in preparation for the historic Battle of Trenton which one of the turning points of the Revolutionary War.   

I am also proud that despite Covid, Crosswicks celebrated the 101st lighting of the large Christmas tree that sits in the Quaker fields near the Community House.  To see the magic, look at this link for this year’s virtual ceremony.  Crosswicks Christmas Tree Lighting.  

One last historic Christmas moment relates to a historic building that was three buildings down from my home.  Brick’s Mincemeat Factory was built in 1879 and until 1968 was the state’s largest producer of mincemeat.  It is now a historical building but still holds special memories of the mincemeat pies we had each Christmas. Read more here – Brick’s Mincemeat Factory

The historic nature of Christmas in Crosswicks makes it special but not necessarily unique.  I encourage all in this unprecedented year to learn more about the history of your town related to Christmas. 

2. Sharing of Faith and Fellowship. Crosswicks had diversity when it comes to faith and denomination.  I already mentioned that the city was founded by Quakers and the Candlelight service at the Quaker Meeting House is a fixture of the holiday season.  But one of the things that I remember most about the holiday season is learning about Hanukkah at my elementary school each year.  I still remember the dreidel song taught to us by one of my friend’s mother. Also, that Hanukkah was the Festival of Light represented by the menorah. 

We also had the United Methodist Church which was attended by my good friend.  I would sing with her father, a retired Methodist minister, songs like Go Tell it on the Mountain that we did not normally sing in my Catholic Church.  We also had the historic Grace African Methodist Episcopal Church organized in 1868 located 3 buildings down the street from my house.   The church was  the first African American denomination organized and incorporated in the United States. I remember the Christmas hymns of joy echoing forth from the Church.  We of Crosswicks were of different faiths and denominations but we shared our beliefs and joy openly during the season

3. Joining in Civil Community.  We also joined each holiday season in civil community.  Each year our family joined our fellow “Crosswicksians” in the annual bonfire and Christmas Tree lighting.  We would all circle the tree at the Community Center and sing Christmas Carols both secular and religious.  Voices rising together as one community we sang of hope and love! Later we drank hot apple cider and ate donuts as we shared fellowship about the encroaching holiday Season.  To close the day, Santa Claus would ride on the back of the firetruck and toss candy to all of us.  It was all a kid could want!

4.  Exploring the Wonders of Winter with Friends.  After all that candy, cider, and donuts, we needed an outlet to burn off the calories.  Our rural town (imagine that in Jersey) offered a wealth of options in the winter month.  No Netflix for us!  We grabbed our skates and went skating on the Frog Pond behind the library or better, yet we sled down “the Hill” behind the old Firehouse.   I remember leaving the house at 8 am on some days and not returning until 9 PM.  The only break would be a grape soda and some candy at Applegate’s Market. 

We even exercised when getting our Christmas Trees.  No Papa Noel’s or Walmart for us.  We went with our Dad to cut down a tree at Nicholson’s Tree Farm.  I am envious of my cousin since she still lives down the street. 

In closing, Christmas in Crosswicks was full of faith, fellowship and fun.  That is why some forty years later, I am still dreaming of Christmas in the Crosswicks.  You may be dreaming of Christmas in your hometown.  Christmas in the year of Covid just feels different from those of the past.  We are asked to remain apart and not to congregate.  And when we are not standing apart, we are sometimes ripping each other apart with cutting remarks. 

For all, the light of Christmas may seem a bit dimmer this year.  And, despite our best efforts to set our homes alight like the Griswold’s, we cannot capture the brightness of a smile or the warmth of a human touch.  Light does not come from a bulb! Rather it comes from hearts joined with the joy of Christmas! 

I think God and nature conspired to replicate the Christmas star this Solstice, 2020 to remind us that when two planets conjoin their lights, the heavens are brighter.  Let us conspire, like my neighbors in Crosswicks, to virtually cross our wicks to bring the light of hope! Let us share the spark of humanity with each other to break the isolation of Covid and the rancor of rivalry! 

We may not be able to be together in real time this year, but we can strive to be together virtually.  Reach out to old friends on Zoom.  Say a prayer for someone in need.  Donate to a charity.  And most of all honor the light that has come into the world with worship and kindness for all.  And until next year, I am dreaming of Christmas in Crosswicks.  Let me close with a song.  

The lyrics are below:

Photos by Katherine Caldwell, lyrics and sung by Don Grier to tune of White Christmas

Christmas in Crosswicks

I am dreaming of Christmas in Crosswicks,

Just like the ones I used to know,

Where people got together,

In all kinds of weather,

To watch the Christmas tree aglow!

I am dreaming of Christmas in Crosswicks,

And the bonfires in the night,

May all your memories be bright,

And when we cross the wicks with neighbors, we bring more light!

American Anthem: More Crosswicks less Crosswise

I turned off the news yesterday because I just could not take it any more. Whether you watched CNN, MSNBC, or FOX, it was all the same. People pointing fingers. People shouting at people and not listening to each other. And much worse than that. As I shut down the vitriol on my TV, I asked how has this nation devolved into an us versus them mentality.

It was not always that way.  We once had civil discourse and the social intermediaries (clubs, little league, community centers, and other institutions) that brought us together.  I think the late Charles Krauthammer who both served as Walter Mondale’s speech writer and conservative commentator, said it best: “Of course we are shaped by our milieu. But the most formative, most important influence on the individual is not government. It is civil society, those elements of the collectivity that lie outside government: family, neighborhood, church, Rotary club, PTA, the voluntary associations that Tocqueville understood to be the genius of America and source of its energy and freedom.”

We have gotten extreme, but it was not always that way. We did not always launch ourselves into the opposing sides of Twitter feeds at the drop of a hat, but rather listened to the opposing sides of people we respected in our community. We sought out the commonalities that brought us together and the spark of humanity that resides in each one of us.   We listened to one another and learned from one another at the PTAs, Little Leagues, Community Centers and institutions of everyday life.  We need to return to these social institutions and turn away from the emptiness of social media.

The best example of a community of sharing and caring is the town that I grew up in Crosswicks.  My town’s main claim to fame was it was the launchpad of the revolution – the Battle of Trenton that won us a country and a nation.  In that town of Crosswicks, we had a mix of liberals and conservatives that all got along and progressed for the betterment of our country and our community.  Thinking about my hometown, I started thinking how did our nation – the collective Crosswicks – become so Crosswise?  What caused the demise of the democracy?  Simply this.  When you cross the wicks (Crosswicks) of a candle, the light burns brighter.  But when you get cross wise, the fire of freedom becomes extinguished.

Picture of Crosswicks

So tonight, I will ruminate on what made our little hamlet of Crosswicks bring people together instead of pulling them apart.  And the answer is quite simple – it was community organizations not affiliated with governments, Facebook, or corporate organizations.  It was organizations by the people, for the people and run by the people.  Let me talk about three of them:

  1. Little League – Back before the day of club Soccer run by professionals, we had Little League. It was run by volunteers who wanted to teach kids a sport and bring communities together.  I am now 55 and can still remember every moment of every Chesterfield Red Sox versus Chesterfield Black Sox game.  The whole community came together to watch the teams compete.  There may have been some arguments on the fields of friendly strife, but what I remember the most was being with my friends, learning from my father and other parents, and sharing fun with the community.  I am not trying to cut down club soccer which is still a unifying organization.  But there is something different learning from the people of your community instead of professionals that are getting paid.
  2. Scouts – I cannot talk to Girl Scouts, but I can talk to Cub and Boy Scouts. These institutions brought together people from all walks of life for fellowship and fun.  Both my mother as a Den Mother and my Father as a Cubmaster were involved.  We got to learn how to compete fairly in the Pinewood Derby and Rocket races.  We also learned how to develop our skills and help one another with our various badges.  As part of a Den, Pack or Troop, you learned how to cooperate and care for those in your group.  You also learned about how through differences and diversity, you create strength.  I will never forget how our Boy Scout troop was able to take the disparate talents and succeed in a weekend campout.
  3. Community Center and Library – The heart of Crosswicks was the community center and library.  In the summer program at both institutions, I first fell in love with books, learned how to draw a cartoon dog and cat, and participated in parties on Halloween and Christmas.  It did not matter the color of your skin, your political institution, or your religion.  All the people in Crosswicks were brought together to share in fellowship and learn new skills.  In the end, it is really what you learn and apply rather than what you earn and deny that makes a mark on the world.

These are just three of the intermediary institutions that brought us together in Crosswicks.  I will never forget the friends that I made. And, even 40 years later, when my friends from Crosswicks express their disparate views, some quite different from my own, I listen and learn.  Never underestimate the power of Crosswicks and intermediary institutions to bring people together.  Let us all as a nation, cross wicks and make the light of our common humanity shine brighter!

America the Beautiful But Broken: A Prescription and a Promise (Re-post)

After a 30+ day shutdown decided to re-post this timely blog. I was in church and as in every week before July 4th we sang America the Beautiful.  This time I really looked at the words and as I sang at the top of my lungs (anyone who ever heard me sing knows that is the only way I do it), I choked up.  You see I could sing some of the lyrics like spacious skies by rote.  But other parts I should read and remember.  And on this July 1 as we head into the celebration of our nations birth, I want to convey the words that choked me up.  In this time of uncivil discourse, I think it is necessary to remember what binds us together as a nation.  It is not military might or economic strength but rather the belief of liberty for all, freedom from oppression, and most of all, the steady march of progression toward a more perfect union.  So, let’s dissect the versus focused on the bolded sections.

1. Verse 1. O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

Commentary.  We are truly a blessed nation.  We have resources and the freedom to pursue happiness and the means to do it.  So why the vitriol and the rancor on both sides.  We need more brotherhood and sisterhood and less tweeting on both sides.  We do not have a problem, we have an opportunity!  We have people that believe in our country coming to our borders for a better life.  True, it is not all of them.  We cannot take in those impostors who want to harm us.  But most people escaping from the south just want a better a life.  Surely the country that rebuilt our enemies with the Marshal Plan, sent people to the moon, and built a nation of immigrants can discern in a professional way the people that do not wish us well. We have done it before and we can do it again.  Instead of protesting, roll up your sleeves.  This immigration problem is solvable and we a nation built on immigrant citizens and a history of practical solutions to thorny problems can do it.  The President and Congress can do it if they put down the iPhones, look up to the Heavens, and realize how blessed we are.  Call me naïve, but I think at the end of the day, we all want a fair but firm response to the immigration crisis.  Heck we may even consider a new Marshal Plan for the South.

2.Verse 2.O beautiful for pilgrim feet,
Whose stern impassion’ d stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America! God mend thine ev’ry flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

Commentary.  This is by far the most consequential verse.  The first line “O beautiful for pilgrim feet” speaks to how the pilgrims escaped religious persecution and later civil strife to find this beautiful country.  Like the pilgrims of yesteryear, the pilgrims of today are seeking the same thing – liberty and the ability to reach their human potential.  We must be a resting place for those men and women of good intent to find their home free from persecution.  Note I said good intent.  There are some with ill intent but we need a humane process and procedure to discern who they are.  Those of good intent have and will protect our nation, build innovation, and will progress us on our path to a better nation.  Which brings us to the later stanzas of this verse.  We have flaws as a nation but we are the best thing going.  Do not kid yourself.  But we will lose our leadership status if we neglect self-control as one stanza of the song points out.  As one President and a famous Saturday Night sketch pointed out we must practice prudence and self-control.  All of us, especially the President, need to stop the late-night twitter rants and practice prudence and self-control.  Lastly, our liberty is built in law.  We somehow need to figure out a way to expedite legal immigration and provide asylum for those who need it and an opportunity for those that want it!  Laws do that and where the law stops or hinders it we need to change it.

3. Verse 3. O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!
America! America! May God thy gold refine

Till all success be nobleness,
And ev’ry gain divine!

Commentary:  It is a disgrace to those men and women that laid down their lives for this beloved country, that we cannot stop the bickering, and the twittering, and find a solution to this immigration issue (and other issues facing our nation).   We are to be refined, refined by the blood of patriots, and anyone who does not look in their hearts to find a middle way does the soldiers that fought and died for this country dishonor.  We also must show mercy to those like us are seeking a better life and freedom. I ask everyone to rise-up, roll up their sleeves, and put on their working boots to solve our issues.  And our President and Congress need to lead the way or get out of the way!

4. Verse 4. O Beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam,
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

Commentary:  The patriots dream is that their country continues to press for a future!  One that sees beyond the years and today’s expediency to understand the nation’s imperative is to welcome those decided in the course of liberty and freedom.  In the end, America is not a nation but an idea.  An idea that those with the will and the drive can escape to a new beginning where the tears will stop, the freedom will flow, and the nation will prosper!

Flag on July 4th
Photo by Stephanie McCabe on Unsplash