Chapter 13: ‘Linking Us Together’

The values linking us together in America were timeless, and part of an unending chain, binding us together with the strength of their connection. It was a connection based on values, and those values were shared. As tough and confusing as life sometimes got, these links were a safe haven and connection to all that was good and right.

Team Sports were a living embodiment of these chains.  When everyone was acting together in unison, agreeing on a plan or goal, the game had the best chance of being won.  If only one person decided to break away, go off-sides, commit a foul, or worse get thrown out of the game, the whole team suffered with victory lost.  In a negative way, this underscores the importance of a strong connection keeping the links intact for the objective to be met.

It was only through strong links to each other that people survived the Great Depression, the bombing of Pearl Harbor, an ensuing and devastating World War, and its low point, The Holocaust.  Today, we are still dealing with the aftermath of 9/11.

 9/11 tragically pointed out that terrorists don’t only kill their sworn enemies … they kill indiscriminately!  In a dramatic statement of inhumanity, they tried to shock the world with their misguided and disconnected view of reality.  They profaned their allegiance to God by blaspheming him with their actions of despair and destruction.  They are links to a chain that is, at its end, connected to nothing, worshipping in many cases the same things they seek to destroy. Many of the 9/11 terrorists were out experiencing the worst of western culture, strip clubs etc., only days before they carried out the brutal attacks.

The value chain of generations past was a mutually shared affirmation. It reinforced the idea that by living together we could prosper if our values were shared. Living this way in America, we overcame all obstacles for over 200 years.  When I was a kid, and we had a bad snowstorm, my parents would always put chains on the rear tires of their cars.  The chains would allow the slippery rubber tires to reconnect with the snowy surface of the road, digging in, and creating a ‘grip’ that bare tires could never provide.  This allowed my parents, and our neighbors, to resume their normal activities and turn what was a temporary setback into a small challenge to overcome.

These chains metaphorically point out the deep connection we used to have with each other.  When times got tough, we dug deep, finding the ‘chains’ within our own psyches to get us through the tough and challenging times.  The ‘chains’ were only as strong as our belief in them and what they could overcome. Strength was based on each link and how it would ultimately fit with other links in the chain that bound us all to each other.   It was this ‘connection’ that created our sense of community, and it spread from our families, to our neighborhoods, through our states, and ultimately across our nation.  I also believe when we were the strongest this chain spread worldwide linking America with the rest of the world — a connection that in many ways has either been broken or abandoned today.

With these ‘chains of connection,’ we were able to become something bigger than just ourselves and share in the true wonder of moving mountains together.  Whether it was creating the world’s greatest economy, national infrastructure with our great dams and highways, or curing many of the worst diseases that had plagued the world for generations, we attempted these things with a unity of purpose and shared in the pride of accomplishment once our efforts were done.  Most of these things could never have been done by individuals alone.

Today, the celebration of division is killing America.  My generation kicked this into high gear with the mantra ‘do your own thing.’  Forty years later, we see what the result of doing your own thing has become.  What happened to ‘our thing?’ the spirit behind why men died at Valley Forge, Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, Normandy, Mt. Suribachi, and the rice paddies of Vietnam.  Brave young men are still dying today in far off places like the deserts of the Middle East.  Are we supporting them in the same way we did their grandfathers and great grandfathers?  Do they fight with a clear vision and light heart knowing the country is of one mind and behind them until they come home?  Do they watch the evening news, seeing the protests and division that have driven America into a sectarian society.

Thank God, we still have men and women brave enough to go to these places finding something deep within themselves, and each other, to get the job done.  What the military has not totally abandoned is the spirit of connection that our country has lost.  These men are bound to each other in an ‘Esprit De Corps’ that transcends any politics or attempt to divide them.  They are sometimes forced to fight two wars — the one on the battlefield before them, and a second war of public opinion that no courageous soldier should ever have to endure.

No country in the world has ever been 100% ‘right’ with a moral compass free of all blame.  That being said, no country in the world has ever been as right as ours. Democratic freedom, and its defense, is a shared idea. It’s been the defining link in our national chain from Lexington and Concord to the present day.

If we can’t agree on who we are, and what we are, the problem stays buried deep in what we have become. We need to look inside ourselves and admit to the emptiness we feel. We can only fill that emptiness by acting together. An 8-ounce glass of water has little power, but magnified 300 million times, it turns into a powerful force that can wash over us all.

I am here today because of what so many men and women gave their lives for over the past 250 years.  I am writing this, in a fervent attempt, to reconnect us to our American Core Values and to each other.  Together, we can reconnect the links in the great ‘Chain of Unity’ that, up until recently, defined us as a nation.  I write with the hope that sacrifices made in its defense, and its shared value system of Freedom & The Individual Rights of Man, were not in vain.

  Kurt Philip Behm: May, 2024

Show me a man

without contradiction

I’ll show you

— no man at all

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

Darkness Reigns

Shunning the light

power hides

in the shadows

gathering allies

— proffering fear

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

Chapter 11:  The Butcher At The Corner

The butcher at the corner was always trying to teach my grandfather new words in Italian.  My grandfather was of Irish and German descent, but he always took the time to try and learn a few words so the next time he came into the shop, he could greet ‘Nick’ in a few words from his native tongue.  Nick in turned learned a few Irish limericks from my grandfather, interesting to be sure, but probably not stories he could tell around the dinner table at home.  

Every time my grandfather entered the shop, he would be greeted with: “Buongiorno Senior Danny,” and my grandfather would respond: “Top A The Mornin To Ya Senior Nicola.”  These two men formed a bond over many years that transcended any language barrier or separation of geography based on birth.  You could hear it in the laughter they shared, and see it in the mutual respect they held for each other in their eyes.  

My grandfather wanted to be able to share some culture with Nick, not because he was so interested in learning Italian, but because he was very interested in getting to know Nick. They became the best of friends over forty years and attended all family functions together.  As a duet, they often sang both Irish and Italian folksongs after a few ‘pints,’ or several glasses of the home made wine Nick made in his basement.

What they shared was special, and the superficial differences between them made it even more so.  The important thing is that they shared.  They shared a belief in their religion, their country, and in each other, that transcended any difference that you might notice from the outside. Together, they became bigger than either could be alone.  They knew this instinctively and made every effort to embrace these surface differences and make them their own.  My grandfather would often lecture me on Italian food and history, telling me, that this or that was so, because he had heard it from Nick.

                  In Their Laughter They Became One

The butcher at the corner, and my grandfather, figured out one of the great secrets of life, and that is that we’re only different in what we admit to.  If the same admission is that we’re fundamentally the same, we can travel down the road of sharing and community — basic tenets that America was founded upon almost 250 years ago.

To reach out, we first have to let go. We need to abandon the notion that only our way is best, and move away from the bias and prejudices that build fences among us. Only then will we realize that the other person is waiting for our acceptance to become something together that we could never be alone. Imagine this magnified over 300 million people.  That’s the way it used to be in our country, and to be truly great, that’s the way it will have to be again.

                 To Reach Out, We First Have To Let Go

Chapter 12: ‘All Roads lead To Rome’

Those who left home to serve their country, or to attend school, learned a magical lesson.  In the service, you learned that even though the guy in the bunk next to you may have been from Oklahoma, and you from New York, the ‘apparent and surface’ differences between you only magnified your attempt to get closer to each other.  In almost no time at all, you discovered that the big and fundamental things between you were the same.

His parents had raised him to respect his elders, our flag, God, and country, just as our parents had us. Even though his small town in Oklahoma made have had a population of 207, and our town over 200,000, the lessons we had learned growing up transcended any census figure or geographical location.  We both had grown up in America, and whether big town or small village, cold northern climate or western panhandle, the things we valued were the core beliefs we shared.

                      Our Roads Really Did Lead To Rome

The Rome I am speaking of metaphorically is the common path we were all on. It was taking us to a better place where people of like mind worked together and sometimes died defending the things they believed in and the freedom that allowed those things to be so.  We didn’t agree in some sort of ‘stepford’ way. We agreed because we learned these lessons of correct behavior when we were very young. They were lessons that stood the test of time and felt right, not only when written down, but inside our hearts and minds as we were encouraged to do the right thing and to let ‘our conscience be our guide.’

Our ‘Rome’ was a shared ‘pursuit of happiness’ built into the American Dream, that every kid grew up seeking, and every adult treasured more than anything else.  It was the shared understanding that America was more than our buildings and our Declaration Of Independence.  America was our history, a history of freedom, paid for and insured by those willing to die for it.  Those who sacrificed led the way and have preserved our freedom for over 250 years.  It’s been said that there are no atheists in foxholes and I believe that’s true.  There are very few unpatriotic non-believers when we go through hardship and ultimately prevail together.  The reason we do it together is because, as a group, we have always believed and agreed upon its core value.

                            Is That Still The Case Today? 

During my junior year at college, one of my roommates, in the apartment we rented, was a black fellow named Tom from Newark New Jersey.  Tom had grown up in the poorest of inner-city neighborhoods, but through perseverance, diligence, and the support of a strong mother, he made it through high school with good grades and found his way to a good university.  He was also a good athlete.  

Tom couldn’t live the American Dream, like many of us, while he was young.  He had to wait until later, when he had his degree, and could go back and help his mother and brothers better their conditions at home.  Tom was able to do this because his mother never abandoned hope or her belief in him.  Mrs. Scott believed in the fundamental goodness of America. Even though her day in and day out life as a domestic worker was a challenge, she never gave up the hope that her children would do better.  America, up until the 1970’s, was a nation where children always did better than their parents, but that was an America that had a shared value system. 

The first two weeks Tom and I lived together there were many questions, as we prodded each other trying to find out how different we really were.  I was surprised and pleased to find out that Tom shared most of the values I had, and in many cases felt even stronger about them than me. We had had the same strong parenting and watched the same T.V. shows. Tom’s heroes were the same as mine, and we were both excited to find out that Willie May’s was our favorite baseball player.  In those first two weeks, Tom stopped being that kid from the urban ghetto and became a trusted friend. And one who almost forty years later has become a treasure in my life. 

I asked Tom one day what it must have been like walking home from school in Newark and playing outside on his block.  Tom explained to me what he heard from his mother, Esther, every night at the dinner table.  Mrs. Scott would tell her three boys that “The right thing is not dependant on who does it, being right is everyone’s duty and obligation. Just because someone chooses not to do the right thing doesn’t change what they should have done.”  Tom’s mother constantly reinforced to her sons that doing the right thing is the right thing to do for its own sake.  These are brave and insightful words from a woman whose physical and emotional playing field was not level … and certainly not fair.

 She Believed In The Principles Of Right And Wrong In Spite Of Her Living Conditions  

Much of America over the past 200 years has been like that. Too many have struggled with adversity while still believing in the future and the power of positive change.  This has been made possible by the strong tenets of their faith and their belief in each other.

Tom’s mother also taught him to never dwell on the negative.  He was, and is, one of the most positive people I have ever known and has been a shining example to my children that anything in life is possible.  Tom didn’t know his father. He had abandoned the family when Tom was four but hadn’t been around much even during those first four years. Instead of using this as a crutch, or excuse, Tom became the man of the house and developed a sense of responsibility far in advance of his age.  He became the only ‘father figure’ his two younger brothers would even know.  

Tom told me these things, and more, on the way to a football game in Rhode Island one weekend in 1969. Because of the way we felt about each other, his story became part of my story.  I taught Tom to surf in Ocean City New Jersey the next summer, and I like to believe that part of myself became part of him.  I know I wanted it to be that way, and he has told me in so many words that he felt that way too. I remember vividly how my parents reacted to first meeting Tom when I brought him home for a Christmas visit in 1969.  

Both of my parents had grown up in poor neighborhoods during the ‘Great Depression’ and had tears in their eyes as Tom shared what it had been like growing up in Newark, in a two-room apartment, with a single parent.  My Mom and Dad loved him right away. Not because he had been poor and unfortunate, but just the opposite, because he was so rich in spirit.  My Dad and Tom became so close, as the years went on, that my Dad ended up becoming the father that Tom never had.  My father had grown up in a tough white ghetto, in the Kensington section of Philadelphia, and in many ways was more like Tom than me.  There’s something about true poverty that crosses all color lines.

Tom’s Road To Rome had more bumps and potholes in it than mine did, but we were pointed squarely in the same direction.  We both knew that in the ways we looked different, society would often focus on that. We also knew that because of our shared belief in what was possible, and in each other, we could change that perception.  By coming together as friends, we created something stronger than any bigotry or bias that would try to take that friendship away.  

By looking past our superficial and surface differences, we found what was real in each other and reveled in the things we both held dear. It was upon these things we shared that we built a lifelong friendship, one that shared the even bigger dream of our generation for a better world. One of the first things Tom and I shared was our music.  Our favorite artists were the great ‘Soul’ groups coming out of Detroit like the Temptations and the Miracles.  The power of music never ceases to amaze in the way it transcends division and separation, drawing the listener in to something higher and more cerebral.  Unfortunately, the powerful messages of love and togetherness, that these groups sang about, has been replaced by violent and negative ‘rap’ artists who glorify and give credence to the negativity of the streets in our inner city’s.

As a result of drug infestation, and the violence that accompanies it, the ability for a young man like Tom to travel the positive road to Rome has been made much more difficult.  Because we have not been able to agree on basic fairness issues, our inner cities have become denizens of the profane and brutal elements of our society, often feeding off themselves in a downward spiral of poverty and despair.  Every day, millions of kids are faced with the agonizing decision between doing the right thing or taking the easier and misleading road of drug pushing and violent street gang involvement. 

Once we lose these young people to the world of drugs and gangs, it is almost impossible to ever get them back. Shining examples like Tom only make a small impact when he revisits his neighborhood and tries to work with the youth center where he grew up.  We need to put programs, and people, in place to spread and reinforce the messages of optimism, education, and a better life to these kids who, through no fault of their own, may never hear it any other way.  The road out of their neighborhood can lead to Rome also — if we can remove the barriers and roadblocks that obscure their view.  

The athletes who ‘escape’ the ghetto are few and far between and put a lace curtain on the overpowering problems that they are fortunate enough to leave behind. Their success often leaves a false impression on the kids still living there, thinking that they too will grow up to be Michael Jordan or Deion Sanders.  Is it possible … yes, but only for the very, very few. What about all the others that get left behind?  The lace curtain of false opportunity slowly closes, as these children become dropouts, and then wards of society, either on public welfare roles, or as inmates of an overburdened prison system.  

Tom went on to become a Doctor of Sports Medicine. In addition to his medical practice, Tom has a counseling service where he advises young college athletes. He reminds them that the ‘riches’ of pro sports happen only to the very few, and that the real riches of their athletic ability lie in the education that that ability has provided them.  

Through our time together, Tom and I discovered that our dreams were really the same.  The dream of maximizing our full potential, and having the opportunity to raise a family and provide and teach those same dreams to our children, happened for both of us.  Tom paid a much higher price for his dreams, and as a result, they mean even more to him. 

The possibility of two young men, coming together as Tom and I did and sharing the dream of America, gets tougher every year.  There are more obstacles in the way.  The sins of our fathers and grandfathers should not continue to be passed on, but the dreams that they collectively fought and died for should be.  

Someone once said: “Show me a man without a dream, and I will show you no man at all.”  One of the great tragedies of the new millennium is that we have stolen these dreams from our young people.  In destroying the roads that could transport them from where they are, to where they need to be, we commit cultural genocide.  A sin for which no punishment may ever be enough.  I heard a ‘Rap’ artist once say: “I sing about the streets, but I’m no longer from the streets.”  It’s an admission that he is making a lucrative living off the poverty and depression of those who unlike him can’t get out.  It seems, in many cases, that the dream of today is to shatter what’s left of the dream of others.                                 

To change the way things are, we need to ‘share’ in not only the goodness that we all seek in our hearts, but in the nightmare of those who cannot dream the dream.  We now know that welfare doesn’t work … opportunity does!  The old saying that ‘it’s better to teach a man to fish than to feed a man a fish’ is as true in our nation’s poorest neighborhoods as in any segment of society.  

Most of my generation, despite the popular impressions of Woodstock etc., knew drugs were wrong, and most of us avoided them.  Even the few that used ‘recreational’ drugs during the 1960’s moved past them as they evolved into adulthood with families and careers. Most users were experimental … quickly in and then quickly out.  

Drugs today are the main economic disincentive of the black ghetto, although they appear the opposite to the young generation living there.  They exact a much bigger cost from their participants than any temporary financial gain they pretend to offer.  They create a culture that drives their users away from real opportunity, trading a fantasy future based on lies and corruption for one that has the true freedom and change that they so desperately need.  In most cases, it is the future itself that is stolen from these neighborhoods, to be replaced with a violent, and often life ending consequence, for those who are conditioned to feel that they have nothing left to lose.

The only thing necessary to reopen the economic, and cultural Road To Rome, is to change the minds of the younger people living there.  This will only be possible when real opportunity is presented early, with clear cut instructions showing how this will lead to a better and happier life.

If all roads lead to Rome … How Many Esther’s Are There To Lead the Way?  

Sitting here thinking

about the past

regret for time mislaid

What’s done is gone

all swans in song

— tomorrow’s yesterday

(The New Room: May, 2024)

Chapter 9:  Big Brothers, Big Sisters, Friendship & Mentoring

On the first day of school, every first grader was assigned a ‘big brother’ or ‘big sister’ from the 8^thgrade.  These were our designated guidance counselors and caretakers during the entire term of the first year.  This was something the 8^th graders took seriously and a responsibility that not every 8^th grader was given.  If you were lazy or irresponsible, this honor would go to someone else.  The care of these younger children was a serious matter, and you treated the 1^st grader in your charge like your younger brother or younger sister at home.

You duties entailed number one, making sure that they had a safe way to get to school.  If both of their parents worked, a rarity, you would try, if it wasn’t too far, to meet them at their house and walk them to school.  Most students lived within walking distance. By today’s standards, the 30-minute walk many of us had would seem too far away.  Back then, the walk to and from school was one of the highlights of our day.

It was on these treks, back and forth, that you oftentimes experienced your greatest adventures.  You would try to find a new, and shorter, way each time and always different from the one you had taken the day before.  In reality, there was only one way home, but we dawdled and zig-zagged, and cut between different houses, so it always seemed like our navigation was different.  Every one of us fancied ourselves as Meriwether Lewis —blazing new trails for others to follow.

When walking home with one of our ‘charges,’ it was straight home by the quickest and safest route. In the morning, for safety, we tried to take the pathway that would have the least car traffic so our younger ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ would be safe and not afraid.

Once at school, we helped them put away their coats and get their desks in order.  We also asked them if they were having any trouble with their ABC’s or numbers. If they were, we would work on those things on our way to and from school. 

Once ensuring their safety, our next most important job was to instill in them a knowledge of what would be happening over the next 8 years.  What better example could there be than 8^th graders who were completing the journey, and in 9 short months would be graduating and heading off to the various high schools that served our area.

We reveled in the success of these younger charges, as they learned to read and eventually count as high as 100 before their first year would end. Often, they would paint us special pictures, depending on what we liked, and based on the stories we told them.  These became some of our most prized possessions, and over 50 years later, I still have mine prominently displayed. 

What we did, more than anything else with these little people, was share.  We shared our time, our laughter, and our concern for them, and were rewarded with love and admiration in return.  Yes love, the kind of love that needs no reason or explanation, one that is given freely and without asking, and a love once received that was so special that we couldn’t wait to give it back in return.

                                 It was a love we shared

We loved watching these little kids going through the same magical process that we did and hearing Sister Rita Marie tell the same stories, with the same inflection and emotion in her voice, as when she had told them to us so very long ago.  They also got to share, through the power of her instruction, the knowledge of what true value was in life.  She taught each one of them in a special way that was tailored for their own individual needs, emphasizing always that what was given away would come back 100 fold, and how to be a true friend. 

We reinforced the same lessons to our young charges at recess and on the way home in the afternoon. We knew they would again hear the same things from their parents over dinner that evening (does anyone remember family dinners), and the chain of connection that we shared would only solidify and get stronger.

                        We Really Were ‘Parents In Absentia’

Like the relationship between parents and their children, the accomplishments of these little ones, and their occasional misdeeds, reflected on us.  We took great pride in their victories and we suffered with them when things didn’t go well.  They struggled, they learned, and they played together, all the while knowing they would never be alone.

               It All Worked Because We Were Willing To Share

This willingness to share didn’t happen by accident or osmosis. It was handed down, and then taught, in a system run by highly principled women who knew its intrinsic value and what it would ultimately mean for all of us.  

Whenever I meet another person who went to parochial school, or in most cases any public grammar school during the 1950’s, there is an instant kinship and connection.  After 15 minutes, we usually end up finishing each other’s sentences and marveling at how identical our upbringings were.  No matter how far removed our childhoods were geographically, it made no difference. The lessons the nuns taught were universal in their message and roadmaps to a better life. 

What gets shared among young children today?  The desire for more of what they couldn’t get enough of yesterday — and will still yearn for tomorrow?  In the abject isolation of a destructive video game, or violent TV program, they withdraw further and further inside of themselves, missing much of the beauty that is only brought out by others. In the absence of cell phones, I-pads, and video games, we personallygot to know each other, and in many, if not most cases, those friendships we made are still strong today. It takes another human being to bring out the best in you, and vice-versa.

              Not A Machine Or Unfeeling Scion Of Technology

The obesity of today’s younger generation is caused by inactivity and a series of lazy and uninformed choices. It is driven by a search for temporary comfort and gratification at the expense of their health and self-esteem.

I’m sure, looking back 50 years from now, we will have discovered that diseases like Obesity, Diabetes, Autism, ADHD, and Anxiety & Depression, were all at least partially caused by an inactive, poorly nourished, and degenerative lifestyle.   

We couldn’t build a bird house, assemble a scrapbook, or put together a model airplane without the glue or adhesive that held it all together.  We faced many challenges and obstacles on our journey toward 8^thgrade, but we encouraged each other, respected the rules, learned to laugh at ourselves, admonished the stragglers when needed, and most importantly — did it together.

The Glue We Had Was A Set Of Core Values That Proved Their Worth When Times Got Tough

Chapter 10: TV & The Messages It Held Inside

My generation, the Baby Boomers, was the first to be raised, at least in part, by television. The magical gray box held wonders beyond compare for a 5 year old fixated in its presence. You would marvel at the places it would take you, as it became your special nanny, while your parents were off tending to the chores in the ‘real world.’

Like all mediums of information, The T.V. was neither inherently good nor bad.  That depended on the intention of the programmers behind the camera. As young children, we experienced the final result, and in 1955 that result was almost always good.  The messages the T.V. brought were mainly those of accepted, time tested, family values, and our parents were comfortable and confident letting us watch by ourselves.

Back then, the message always ended with the good guy winning and the cowboy wearing the white hat saving the day.  The one’s wearing the black hats were always the villains, and implicitly we knew this when they first appeared on screen.  The good guy’s stuck together in our T.V. shows, and the bad guys were those who didn’t hold to the accepted social order (values) and wandered off in search of self-interest by breaking the law, creating havoc, and usually getting caught and then punished by shows end.  The message of these early shows reflected the shared values we had as a society and only served to reinforce what we were already being taught in school and at home.

I can remember my mother and father coming into the living room as I was watching re-runs of the ‘Our Gang Comedy’s’ from the 1930’s.  They were among my very favorites, and my parents would sit down with me and watch them too.  They would then relive all over again their childhoods during the Great Depression and tell me over and over how much that series meant to them when times were so tough.  The characters were called ‘The Little Rascals’ and had names like Alfalfa, Spanky, Porky and Buckwheat and always got into some kind of mischief.  They usually got caught, resulting in their acknowledging the errors of their ways, and learned a great lesson in the process. In many ways, they were as much a ‘morality tale’ as any told previously or since and a stark contrast to what the negative on-screen ‘entertainment’ provides for our kids today.

According to film historian Leonard Maltin, “Our Gang put boys, girls, whites, and blacks together in a group as equals.”  To be equal, we had to agree upon and share in what makes us that way.  Back then we had no problem doing that.  

                                             As equals  

‘Our Gang’ was comprised of some upper middleclass kids, but mainly poor and black kids all playing together. In playing and seeking out common goals, they set aside any petty or surface differences in their pursuit of adventure and fun.  They may have come from different economic or social circumstances, but they realized, when playing together, that that’s all that they were. The magic and the adventure of the task at hand superseded any variation in class, color, or social standing. They had much more important things to do than worry about petty differences and spent all of their time playing, planning, and conspiring as a group.

                        They Had More Important Things To Do! 

The images on T.V. came to us in black and white, and the messages they carried inside were black and white too.  No confusion or embarrassment in trying to be ‘politically correct’ like today. Their messages were linked both spiritually and ethically to the ones we learned outside when the T.V. was turned off.

Shows like Lasssie, Rin Tin Tin, Gene Autry, The Lone Ranger, Howdy Doody, and then Superman, all came with a message that if the right choices were made, good would triumph over evil.  We felt better after watching these shows, and again our parents would often break away from what they were doing and watch them with us.

                            Another Thing We Shared Together! 

With our decoder rings and coonskin caps, we cheered for our heroes on the 11 inch screen.  We knew that they might struggle for a while, but in the end would always win the day. They let us know that the same thing applied in our personal lives as well.  I remember going to see Gene Autry in Northeast Philadelphia when I was 8 years old. Gene Autry, along with Roy Rogers, were the biggest cowboy stars of my young generation. Gene had his horse Champion, and the Son Of Champion, with him at the outdoor demonstration.  

Gene took the time to walk the entire crowd and tried his best to talk to every child who stood outside the corral.  His questions to each kid were always the same … “Are you doing good in school?” and “Are you listening to your mom and dad?’  I left that day knowing that my on-screen hero was real, and the things that he told me, and encouraged me to do on his program, were things he believed in his heart.  I also knew he had served his country bravely during World War 2 when many stars in Hollywood hadn’t.  He represented the best of all the things, and we all wanted to be like him. 

Our on-screen heroes also encouraged us to have piggy banks and to save our penny’s, explaining to us the magic of doing the right thing every day (saving) and how quickly it would add up.  They also reinforced that good things take time, and that immediate gratification was the imposter of the short-sighted. We filled our piggy banks by having paper routes and redeeming used soda bottles and didn’t ask our parents for the money, knowing that they hadn’t asked theirs.  

When that bank got so full, that it wouldn’t accept another dime, you  knew you were the wealthiest person in the world, or at least on Rockingham Road where I lived.  Your parents proudly accompanied you to the local bank where you had opened your first passbook savings account with your name on it (Mom and Dads too).  At birthdays, and holidays, you might have some relatives who wanted to ‘invest’in your future success by making your passbook even heavier with the magic it contained.

Every kid in the 1950’s knew the story of ‘The Tortoise And The Hair,’ and understood that it was by continual effort, not just a grandstanding initial burst out of the starting blocks, that true progress was made.  It was the choice of putting aside the temptations of the present, and contributing to something larger and more important, that they taught us on T.V.  We all knew that the value in saving, and planning for the future, would override any temporal persuasion and allow us to eventually accomplish much bigger things.

                  Again, These Messages We Got From Our T.V.’s 

Just think of the symbols and messages that exist on T.V. and in Video Games for kids today.  Violent action figures that continue to kill and maim, basing their success on how much damage they can do.  These violent messages reach children today at a young and impressionable age. Unless parents are conscientious and extremely vigilant, the young child is damaged severely before he or she is even given the chance to understand that the world can, and should, be a different and more uplifting place.

Occasionally, our T.V Shows would deal with tragedy and even death, but it was presented in a spirit of hope and renewal and a belief in the future.  I remember how I felt watching ‘Old Yeller’ when the dog was shot after contracting rabies while defending the boys from a wolf and had to be put down.  I was sad for days until it slowly started to sink in.  The message was that sometimes life isn’t fair, but we can be, and that doing the right thing in certain situations was the hardest thing of all.

                    And That Made It All The More Worth Doing!

Rin Tin Tin, a tan and black German Shepherd, was my personal favorite.  He was the troop mascot in a cavalry unit, and Rinty was always saving some trooper from an Indian attack or rescuing someone who was either lost or being held prisoner in the American West.  Rin Tin Tin embodied the moral message that the army and the settlers shared in common, and he proudly served to enforce these values when called upon by his master.

Rinty was both loyal and obedient, courageous and brave …traits we all tried to emulate in our everyday lives.   

He also knew the difference between right and wrong because that is what he had been taught.  We all loved and wanted to be like him and trained our own dogs to be at least partially as heroic and adventuresome as Rinty was.  As I got older, I always had German Shepherds as my personal dogs.  In real life, they share most of the qualities, and nobility of character, that Rin Tin Tin personified on screen.

In many ways, we love dogs so much because of the purity of their character.  They are totally loyal to their masters, and would in most cases die in the protection of those that they love. They often give up their own interests, in the pursuit of deferring to their masters, and want nothing more than to serve something, or someone, they see as bigger than themselves. They truly are man’s best friend!

                  And T.V. Portrayed Them Exactly That Way

Whether watching ‘Sky King,’ ‘Sgt Preston Of The Yukon,’ or ‘Daniel Boone,’ I never saw any cross-legged kid, sitting in front of the T.V., confused as to what the message was in the show he was watching. We all cheered together, laughed together, and cried together, based on the plot at hand because we all shared in the values within the message that was showing on screen.  The good guys were always good, and the bad guys always bad.  No matter how desperate the situation got in one of those shows, we always knew that good would win out in the end.  It was in this spirit, of sending a positive message of hope, that the T.V. shows during my childhood were at their best.

Imaging what a young person watching a show today, laced with sex and violence, must be thinking.  He or she can’t help but come away from that show diminished and in less control of themself than before. The only value in T.V. today is one shared by the parents.  Many parents today use television and I-pads to keep their kids occupied, and out of their ‘hair,’ while they check their emails and watch even more violent and sexually explicit programming thinking, in error, that they are spiritually immune from its negative effects. 

If you have children of your own, and no parental controls on your T.V.’s, … then shame on you.  If you allow your children to watch T.V., play video games, or with I-pads, at their friend’s houses without the same controls, then I echo the sentiment.  Children grow up fast enough as it is without having the very core of their childhood ripped away from them by these violent and destructive electronic pariahs.  In many ways, T.V. — and its electronic counterparts — are the great progenitor of the downward moral spiral that we seem to be on. 

My head is neither in the clouds nor do I live in a world of fantasy … in most ways I am a realist.  The realities of the world today I am all too familiar with, but I am unwilling to anoint them with unlimited power over our children in a capitulation that there is nothing we can do to fight back.

When young children, and teenagers, bring guns into our schools, with mass murders and suicides the result of their misguidance, what does this tell us about their state of mind and what they see when they look into the future?  As young children, we had heard the stories about Nagasaki and Hiroshima and the devastating results those two bombs caused.  We also knew they were dropped with a higher purpose, and in the end saved lives.  Invading Japan, which would have been the only other alternative, would have resulted in many more lives being lost on both sides.  We understood their purpose, and we also understood the difference between self-protection and preservation and wanton destruction and violence.

As horrible as it was to think about what those Japanese went through in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, we understood why it had to be done.  I don’t think anyone, including the confused and misguided young person with the gun in their hands, understands why someone enters a place of learning and starts indiscriminately shooting at everyone and in all directions.  A person like that can’t share the same value for human life that we all like to believe we share.  A person like that has had their moral barometer and compass shattered inside them. They are running sociopathically amok — devoid of any empathy for others — or sense of right and wrong.

People like this don’t just happen. They are created in an environment of abandonment, moral confusion, and despair. In many ways, the Columbine shootings were done by someone feeling even more helpless than his unfortunate victims did on that sad and tragic day.  

The television of today puts kids in these violent and destructive situations on screen.  If they are left unsupervised, the lines between fantasy and reality can easily become blurred, and over time these negative images pile up inside of them until one day the pressure becomes so great that they snap, hurting not only innocent victims, but themselves.  

Our TV programs in the 1950’s were an extension of our parents, our teachers, and our religious instructors.  They were a positive reinforcement and the best example of what the medium could be.  As has been said many times … “Art is a reflection of the society of its time,” and our time (in the 1950’s) was reflected in the most positive and uplifting light by the things that we watched.

What eventually happened to TV is what happened to our society in general.  By not sharing the same value systems that created those great programs, we’ve allowed our world to become polarized and divided with our heels dug in. In our misguided defense of what is politically correct, we have allowed the perpetrators of wrong to sit equally, and sometimes as overlord, at the table with those who are trying to do the right thing.  

To make matters worse, through misguided legislators and organizations like the ACLU, we pass laws and give legal rights to the creators of this violent and perverted programming.  As the famous comic strip character ‘Pogo’ said in the 1950’s …

                   “We Have Met The Enemy — And He Is Us!”  

The Muse continues to punish me

 whenever I write prose

Her slaps severe with pain heartfelt

no fury ‘hell hath known’

She sentences me to endless nights

and days when words won’t come

Until I succumb to writing verse

 and she — my breath becomes

(Fairmount Park: October, 2016)

Poetry’s spoken armor

repels the pointed spear

warding off tomorrow’s scars

enemies in fear

Each word thus protected

as phrases form anew

to vanquish what the darkness brings

— new battlegrounds in view

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

When our histories have finally been written, many, if not most, of the important things to havehappened will not have been purposed or planned for — but will have happened in lieu of those things.

That College or University that you went to may have been in lieu of the one you initially thought you wanted to attend but couldn’t get into.

The woman you married may have been the best friend, or roommate, of the girl you initially tried to date. But because of time or circumstance you ended up taking her out instead.

Like Reggie Jackson being traded from the Orioles to the Yankees, some of our best accomplishments are the result of finding ourselves in one situation in lieu of another.  My family physician, when I was a kid, only went to medical school because he was refused entrance into the university engineering program which had been his first choice.

How many of these alternate, and in lieu of, situations have impacted your life and maybe shaped the important events that went on to make all the difference?

Many times, life is calling out to us from places that we refuse to hear.  The universe has a plan, and the secret is to get in lockstep with that plan and value the options we are presented and the new choices it gives us.

I’m sure the doctors, scientists, farmers, and businessmen (all patriots), that became our Founding Fathers never intended to lead a new and emerging country to freedom and independence.

They were being called to something bigger than their original and proprietary decisions had mapped out, and history will forever record the importance of their answering that call.

The best parts of all of us are often those undiscovered. They are sometimes most evident to others while being blind to ourselves.  As we recognize without help or assistance the talents of our children, we are often in the dark when it comes to seeing those same things in our own nature.

Every parent starts T-Ball or Pop Warner Football wanting their kid to be either a pitcher or quarterback. If that were allowed to happen, where would the great third baseman and linebackers come from?  We very often need the help of others to determine the right and correct roads for us to walk down.

Kris Kristofferson and Louis Armstrong did not have the greatest singing voices in the music industry.  They did however, go on to write —and sing — some of the greatest songs in popular music during the last 100 years.  We often need to go against the grain and swim up-stream to achieve our greatest levels of success.  The rain that falls on the highest peak in the Rocky Mountain range does eventually find its way to the ocean.  The route it takes is determined by something beyond its ability to control.

The next time someone says to you: “You have a great voice; you ought to sing professionally,” or, “I think that’s a great idea; you should send it to a magazine,” maybe you should listen.  More than just that one person is reaching out to you …

                                            The Universe Is Speaking!

Creating one more empty space

for every one I fill

Answers close within themselves

— questions open still

(The New Room: May, 2024)

Memory

without language

Joy

without pain

Sight

without prescience

Deed

without claim

Truth

without compromise

Faith

without prayer

Grace

without blessing

Love

— never shared

(The New Room: May, 2024)