This essay will appear
one day after my father’s
birthday. I do not have
much that is concrete to hang
on to since he died when I
was two and a half, sixty-three
years ago.
Add three years and that
will be my age early next
month. But I do have stories,
told to me by my mother and
several relatives. One of the
things that I have learned over
the years is that memories,
replete with their images, are
often more powerful than the
realities that they represent.
I felt that way quite starkly
when I finally got around to
visiting Thoreau’s Walden
Pond. I had a great day walking
the pond’s perimeter,
standing in the middle of the
small plot of ground that was
his cabin, and sitting on the
bank he sat on
musing on the
pond’s innate
wisdoms and
nature’s infinite
capacity to
teach us all we
will ever need
to know about
ourselves and
our preciously
short existence.
Today’s Walden
Pond has a
public beach,
its perimeter
path is littered
here and there
with trash, and
the silence that
so buoyed Thoreau’s
spirit has dissipated,
replaced by the sounds and
vestiges of modern life. There
is something to be said for
staying away
from mythical
places.
One of
my mother’s
favorite
stories about
my father is
about how he
would come
home from
his office, often
late, and
pick me up
and carry me
around the
Oriental rug
in his office.
At the height
of his career
he was the
country’s leading theater architect.
As a result, he worked
long hours and was away
from home often. I did not
have to be crying or cranky;
he just wanted to spend some
time holding me.
I can not claim to have any
immediate memory of those
moments.
But now, when I hold my
grandson Grant in my arms
and walk around the rug in
his living room humming the
tunes to him that I hummed
to his dad, it is as if time has
backtracked on itself and I am
my father and Grant is me.
The void deepened within me
over the years by his palpable
absence closes, if just for a
few moments, and I feel my
father presence in so tangible
a way that it is impossible
to describe. These are rare
moments of pure joy to hold
on to.
In ``The Brother’s Karamazov,’’
Dostoyevsky writes, "
that there is nothing higher
and stronger and more wholesome
and good for life than
some good memory, especially
a memory of childhood.’’
Mine is not an actual memory.
But it is a memory nonetheless,
a quite powerful one that
has always had the effect on
me of what Wordsworth calls
``a renovating virtue.’’
Pictures also have a way of
either conjuring up the past or
creating a memory that is as
meaningful, and useful, as any
rooted in real experience. Earlier
this year my cousin Fred
sent me several photographs
of my paternal grandparents,
neither of whom I ever knew.
One picture of them, standing
arm in arm, and seeming
to be looking right at me, sits
atop my desk.
My mother and father are
to their right, and my son Tim,
their grandson, sits to their
left. It is as close as we have
ever come to being together.
If I include myself, it is the
closest we have ever come to
a family gathering.
And the wonderful part
of it is that every day when I
turn on my desk lamp before
first light and see my family it
is as if time and death never
happened.
The pictures animate both
past experience and imagined
experience. Both are equally
powerful.
I would like to think that
each of us carries such lovely
baggage and that as we travel
through life and time from
year to year these moments
in our lives serve to wash
away the despair so easily felt
in light of humankind's increasingly
adept capacity for
self-destruction. Perhaps, to
Columns
Hawthorn Hill: Handed down memories of dad
- Columns
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
It is with sadness that we note the passing of long time friend, and distantrelative, Jane Patrick. Over the years we have worked with Jane in a number of organizations including Women’s Club and the Community Advisory Committee at Bassett. And, of course, in later years we joined her, along with the other Dinner Belles, for any number of delicious meals. But we do think that our favorite memory that we shared with Jane was when we discovered, having both married Cooperstown natives, that we shared Cooperstown Christmas plans.
Continued ... -
Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Cheers for the Blue Rabbit!
My handwriting’s always been an embarrassment. Way back in elementary school, while most of the others were developing a clear, sometimes graceful hand (especially the girls), my penmanship showed no improvement.
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In These Otsego Hills: This and that ...
We have found the weather so far this year to be on the unusual side. And while we have no problem with the fact that we have received very little snow, we are of the opinion that what we have had instead is not particularly to our liking either. In fact, we are very hesitant to venture out much as we live in fear that the rain will turn to mixed precipitation which will freeze into a sheet of ice. And we are definitely opposed to encountering a sheet of ice underfoot. In fact, we are so hesitant that we now have taken to canceling our participation in events based on what just might be a dubious forecast.
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Book Notes: Feinstein’s latest is sheer enjoyment
Most people who follow sports have probably heard of John Feinstein. As a nationally known author, sportswriter, pundit and broadcaster, he has brought a unique angle to sports journalism. His groundbreaking book on Bobby Knight’s 1986-87 Indiana University basketball team, “A Season on the Brink,” still resonates today as an all-time classic.
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Book Notes: No Trekkie should miss Shatner’s books
It would be hard to find a television phenomenon as popular as “Star Trek.” Even though it was only on television for three seasons and 79 episodes (1966-69) it attracted viewers and devotees that still follow it passionately 45 years later. The fanatical supportspawned several movies and television spinoffs. Star Trek conventions continue to this day. There has never been anything like it.
Continued ... -
Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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In These Otsego Hills: ‘Property must be secured or liberty cannot exist.’ − John Adams
Last week we were asked if we would be interested in previewing a documentary, “The Empire State Divide,”produced by the Foundation for Land & Liberty. And we were more than happy to do so as we understood the documentary dealt with the problems that continue to face family farms.
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From Fly Creek: Now wait a minute!
On the ninth day of Christmas, driving down Cooperstown’s Eagle Street, I saw something astounding! No, not “nineladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans” etc. I saw one jogger jogging. And puffing on a cigarette.
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In These Otsego Hills: Goals of the past and goals of the future
We have long subscribed to the concept that we are always more successful if we, number one, set a goal and then, number two, meet it. And this was our thinking when we decided before Christmas to watch at least part of every college football bowl game. It was perhaps an odd, if not completely nonsensical, goal.
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In These Otsego Hills: Not to our liking ...
It is with sadness that we note the recent death of Steve Nagel. The son-inlaw of our late husband’s cousins, Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek, Steve was married to the Ecklers’ oldest daughter, Gail. We had the pleasure of spending Christmas Eve with the Nagels and the Ecklers in Fly Creek, greatly enjoying the delicious food and delightful conversation.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
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Book Notes: Biography captures the real Stephen Colbert
It would be hard to find a comedian as unique as Stephen Colbert. As the host of “The Colbert Report” on Comedy Central he hasmanaged to leave his mark on the nation’s consciousness in both a serious and humorous sort of way. His unusual wit has allowed him to become American icon. It would be difficult to find another entertainer quite like him.
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From Fly Creek: Christmas and varied blessings
I’m still astounded! The last farmers’ market before Christmas, I was sitting up front, directly under the ceiling heater, shmoozing with the hoi-polloi. (That’s an awkward linguistic mix,but let’s let it go.) As I sipped my hot coffee, a gloved hand came to rest on my shoulder and a warm voice said, “Merry Christmas, Jim.” I looked to my left—it was Santa Claus!
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In These Otsego Hills: Always a learning experience ...
We must admit that we thoroughly enjoyed our 2011 Christmas celebration. We partook of Christmas Eve dinner at the home of Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek and Christmas Day dinner at the home of Sandy and Al Bullard of Milford. We had our usual Christmas Day brunch at home on Pioneer Street, although we must admit it was a tad bit later than usual as, what we enjoyed most about Christmas, namely our granddaughter Abby, took a great deal of time opening her Christmas presents.
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In These Otsego Hills: Coming up ... 2012
Difficult as it seems, 2011 is fast coming to an end. And it is always our hope that as a year draws to a close, the issues which have been in the forefront during the year will be resolved. Unfortunately, we suspect that will not be the case this year. Instead, we are fairly certain that many of the issues that plagued this year, will continue to plague next year. Thus we will find ourselves still musing about the same issues we have spent time with already. And while we have not come toany conclusions about many of the issues, we do think they would all likely benefit from both sides thinking critically about perspective, risk assessment and possible solutions.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Book Notes: Grisham doesn’t disappoint
John Grisham is one of this country’s most popular authors. Every time he publishes a book it’s an instant best-seller. He appeared on the scene about 20 years ago with his tense legal thrillers, “A Time to Kill” and “The Firm,”and hasn’t stopped producing top-notch novels since.
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From Fly Creek: Still singing, beyond our hearing
This column from Christmas 2001 still speaks deeply to me, and perhaps will to you, too. Take it, please, as my Christmas gift.
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In These Otsego Hills: The 2011 Cooperstown Carol
Since 1984, with the exception of one year, 1999, we have looked forward at the end of the year to going through all the issues of the paper in order to glean those news items which have been worthy of note throughout the year and which should make their way into our annual Cooperstown Carol.
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
