A Truman Democrat

 

     I call myself a Truman Democrat, perhasps even a liberal.  I have had  to ask myself why from time to time however and  a careful analysis has left me with the following beliefs.  Call me what you wish however.

     Republicans, and conservatives in general, want the best for people but it seems to me that they have the mistaken belief that men are honorable by nature and if left to their own devices will treat the poor and down trodden with affection and warmth.  That they will take care of their fellow man by giving the poor  and disadvantaged assistance to compete with the rest of us is not acurate as a group.  Men I know are very honorable but mankind , if left on its own without a check is greed y and mean.  Religion helps tame the great beast but even religion can run amuck without checks from the congregation. 

     I think that some sort of affirmative action needs to be in place to help (and I haven’t a clue how it should be structured) black, Hispanic, other people of color and the down drodden to enjoy the American dream.  It is not enough to remove the 200 year chain of prejudice  and bigotry and tell them they now can compete.  They have to be helped to the starting line.

Abortion should not be used as just another means of birth control but there may be a time and a place where it unfortunately  comes about.   But why don’t we take all the effort that  people use chaining themselves to the clinic doors  and redirect it towards changing adoption laws.

Medical care needs to be affordable and available to all.  We should be able to buy  prescription drugs for the same price that Canadians and Mexicans do.

Lawyers are not the bad guys, the media usually tells the truth, and most of us only hear what our bias wants us to hear.  Most of us don’t know anything for sure and  chose what we believe because we like a certain book or person who happened to tell us something that sounded pretty good.

However I do believe there are bad guys in the world and some one has to be the world policeman and I would just as soon it was us.  After we finish with Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan, lets just move down the list , all the soldiers are volunteers any way.  I believe in a mandatory two year service to our country , be it military , peace corps, Ameri-corps, or a church volunteer. 

Let us stop arguing about prayer in school and let those who want to do.   Let's provide vouchers so parents can send their kids to any school they want and  stop blaming teachers because the kids are stupid and  undisciplined.

Let's stop bitching about our  elected representatives and get active.   I know first hand that most elected officials will listen to you if you take the time to make a reasonable and well thought out presentation about how you feel.

So I am a truman Democrat or whatever that means.    Not that any of you care but that has never stopped me from lending some dignity to what would other wise be a vulgar brawl. 

Another Family Secret - Fern,Orville, Abe, and one more.

Fern Neibarger was a real Sooner.  She was born sooner than expected in Oklahoma soon after her mother and father staked a piece of land sooner than they were supposed to. 

Fern’s father proved to be no better of a farmer in Oklahoma than he was in Pennsylvania.  It wasn’t too many years later that the only land he could lay clame to was the plot he was buried in. 

Fern was farmed out, so to speak, to a cousin in Kansas City, Kansas to help clean, cook, and any other domestic chore the older cousin wished to be undertaken.  Fern started looking for a way out of the situation as soon as she got there.  Her rescue game at church one Sunday in the guise of a dashing looking fellow giving the sermon.  He seemed the type of man that held promise.  They were soon married and soon had two daughters, my mother being the youngest. 

Looks can be deceiving and Fern found out, not soon enough, that Orville really had no promise of financial future, was only a minor part of the church laity, and his mother, Alice, came along as part of the marriage. 

Orville was not a stupid or lazy man it was just some work was beneath him, some he thought was wasteful to spend time on, and sometimes his religious views irritated his co workers to the point that somebody had to go and it was usually Orville.  Of course all of this was taking place during the depression to make matters worse.  However Fern was resourceful.

Abe was the widowed mail man who also happened to own a grocery store.  During his rounds delivering mail he became acquainted with every one and their particular situation.  If some one was having difficulty he would make sure that now and then he would let them charge food at his store or in some cases just give them food to get by.  He started supplying Fern and Orville food items on a regular basis.

Orville appreciated the gesture at first but when Orville gained steady employment he noticed that Abe still kept coming around delivering free food items, but always when Orville was away.  Orville demanded that Abe never come back to the house which would have been tricky since Abe was also the postman, but as luck would have it Abe got promoted about the same time and no longer had a route.

Orville and Fern started doing more for the church.  Orville was called upon to do more lecturing while Fern wrote and edited religious pamphlets.  She became so adept at editing and writing that she was noticed by church officials in Independence.  (I hope you have noticed that I have not said which church started by Joseph Smith, nor will I for obvious reason that will soon be divulged.)

The officials in the church found it necessary to work with Fern closer and closer and a real professional friendship developed.  One day probably after a night meeting, which there seemed to be plenty of, Fern and one of the elders realized that their friendship had taken on another dimension.  Their ability to keep such dimensions a secret was not a success for very long. 

When confronted with rumors that were never admitted to or proved, Fern’s friend quietly resigned his position, donated some money to the church and had a library named after him.  Fern on the other hand said that the church had no right to judge her, that she had done nothing wrong in her view and would not give up the laity position she held in the church.  She was threatened with censor and she, based on some doctrine of the church, demanded a trial in front of the entire body of elders.  She was informed that if she insisted on such a trial she would be excommunicated from the church.  She insisted. She was found guilty of transgression against the sacrament of marriage.  Orville was so humiliated of course that he divorced Fern and he and Alice left. 

Like I mentioned above, Fern was resourceful.  She had two kids to take care of.  She looked up Abe, married him and lived happily ever after albeit for not to long.

Fern made the most out of what remained of her life.  She became active in Scouting, spent summers with Abe at Camp Nash, a Boy Scout camp in Kansas, started the first Girl Scout troop in KCK, wrote and published a book of poems and one on religious symbols.  She became very active in a non denominational congregational church.  She contracted lupus fell and broke her hip and ended up dieing at 52 leaving Abe with a huge hospital bill.

The hospital bill was soon paid by an anonymous party.  The only information the hospital would give the family was that payment was drawn on a bank in Independence, Missouri. 

Another Family Secret - Part 1

Joseph Smith and Me

Just a few blocks west of the old Jackson County Square Court House rests several acres of land hosting three religions reportedly founded, and rightly so, by Joseph Smith.

Mr. Smith did not start three churches of course, he started just one.  It took his followers to fight and fuss and split things up, which they are still doing and now there are plenty of splinter groups, but they are not represented in the area I am writing about.

The story goes that Joseph Smith was looking around for a place to move the headquarters of the Mormon Church from Ohio.  He apparently had a revelation in Independence, (why he came to Independence in the first place I am not sure,) at a location just west of town which to this day is called the Temple Lot.  He proclaimed a temple would be built there “without hammer or nail” and the Independence area was he revealed to his followers the original Garden of Eden.

It is not my intent to give a history lesson or a theological discourse about the Mormon Church and their pilgrimage but let it suffice to say that the Mormon’s, the Community of Christ, and the Church of Christ –Temple Lot, are represented in and around the Temple Lot and all their patriarch to be Joseph Smith and the one true church.

The Mormons, or the Latter Day Saints, have a Visitation Center on excellent kept grounds.  It is manned by volunteer Saints, as they call themselves, from all over the country.  They will provide you guidance about the church and its history and if you want will even provide you with some evangelism, but they are not pushy or over barring.  They are extremely nice, immaculately dressed, and as a friend of mine once said “well scrubbed looking.”  It is a nice place to visit for no other reason than its historical and cultural impact on the City of Independence.

 

Southwest of the Mormon visiting center is the Church of Christ, Temple Lot.  They claim to have in their possession the “true” portion of ground that Joseph Smith proclaimed the temple would be built.  They have a small visitation center also and they will readily show you the two stones where Mr. Smith carved in the date and the survey information about the site.  You venture outside and you can find the four corner survey markers just waiting for a temple to be built.  Problem is that the Church of Christ is like the read headed step child and has no money to speak of.  The man who was in the small visitation center the day I went there was the eldest elder of the church. ( Some refer to them as the Hedrickites which they don’t mind a bit.)  The gentleman wanted to convert me more that inform me about their history and how they came by way of the Temple Lot but I was not interested in being converted.  In all fairness to the Church of Christ, Temple Lot folks, their claim to the area is true.  Regardless if Joseph Smith actually said that is where they were going to build th Temple I am not sure, but they are.  I left my evangelic friend and ventured over to the Community of Christ Temple.

The Community of Christ Church is due east of the Temple Lot and north of the Mormon Visiting Center.  The Community of Christ Church changed their names a few years ago from The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  It was a mouth full to say when one was talking about them when I was growing up so most people just called them RLDS.  I am not sure why they changed their name but I am sure a lot of thought was put into the matter.   The Temple is the most interesting building in all of Independence.  I guess I could describe it but a picture does it much more justice. 

The Temple houses all the administrative offices, or at least most of them.  They have a huge archive, a museum, a sanctuary, a prayer garden, a huge organ with 5600 pipes I think, a chapel and a bunch of art work.  It is readily open to the public.  The people who meet and great the public are nice, knowledgeable, witty, and more lay back than their Mormon friends.  They dress business casual and really make you feel like you are one of them.  The Temple sanctuary is actually used seldom for services.  They do have organ recitals every day which if you like organ music is a nice experience.

There are two another building located in this Garden of Eden area that has dominated Independence for many years.  One is the Auditorium.  It has hosted many an event and most of the high school graduations in the surrounding area.  There was always Handel’s Messiah performed each year and was a great tradition.  (I understand that the new Kaufman Center will be hosting it from now on.  I hope it is only a temporary move.) It is a complex piece of architecture, well maintained, and an asset to the community. 

The other is called The Stone Church.  That was the first Community of Christ Church in Independence, very much a church like looking structure and sort of the anchor church.

The three religions mentioned above have been very influential in the community and added a lot of dignity and culture to the area.  There is a lot of jealousy from some non church member toward the Community of Christ Church.  I suspect that much of the jealousy is because the Church has been influential local politics and as a group are pretty successful socially and financially.

Now what has all this got to do with any of my family secrets?  Well that will be forthcoming in part 2

Caribou Spirit

                                                                 

Caribou Spirit                 

This article first appeared in Whispering Wind.  American Indian: Past and Present,

Vol. 35  No. 6

The class was sort of small today.  There had been a funeral yesterday and as usual the day after few showed up for school.

The kids talked me into letting them get on the computer and talk to kids in other villages that dot just north and south of the Arctic Circle.  My students are not the only ones that can manipulate a teacher to let them participate in the state of the art district chat room.

No sooner had the kids gotten into the intricacies of chatting with those they had met at various school district functions, when in walked the Inupiaq teacher, who just so happened was a village elder.  I could tell she was mad.

“I want everyone off the computer and sit facing me!”  We all did what we were told.

“What kind of people are we?”  The kids had apparently heard this before ans sort of out of sync mumbled something about being Inupiaq.  “What did you say?  Say it like you mean it!”  Louder and in unison came the reply, “WE ARE INUPIAQ!”

“I just heard that a high schooler,” she began, “was involved in killing a fawn and leaving the body on the tundra, letting it rot.  We do not kill fawn and we do not leave meat to rot.  We kill for a purpose, not for fun.  That is not what we do.

“There have been caribou migrating through our village ever since I can remember and eve since my Anna (grand mother) can remember.  Now why do you think that is?  It is because the caribou like us.

The Shamans tell us that whenever you kill an animal you need to break its neck to show respect.  In that way the spirit of the animal will return to the heard and tell them that those people in the village are good people, ‘they show respect to us, we need to return next year and make sure they have food.’

And now what do you thin that fawn is going to tell its mother about how nice and decent the people of our village are?  I believe this with all my heart.

“If I ever hear of anything like this happening again AI am going to call the game warden and tell them who did it.  I know, the spirits do not just tell the heard.  I don’t care who you are, shame will come on you and upon your family.”

She turned to me, said Taiiku (thinks) and left the room as quickly as he had entered.  The kids did not say anything but went back to their computers and returned at least one foot back into the 21^st century.  Several glance in the direction of one boy who kept his head bowed and made no eye contact with anyone.

The First Family Secret

Family Secrets - Aunt Daisy

Aunt Daisy lived alone.  She was born the same year that President Truman was and out lived him by ten years.  Daisy never married and was the only non retarded daughter in a house hold of 6 boys.  She was 21 years older than my grandfather and was responsible for much of his parenting. 

Daisy outlived all her family even my grandfather so therefore she was the recipient of all the collectables that the family acquired through the years.  Daisy never married because the family, so my grandfather told me once, never thought anyone was quite good enough for her.  She never worked at a paid job in her life so had no social security and no visible means of support.  My grandfather helped a little in paying for a one room apartment close to where we lived and for a time being she lived with the oldest brother, Frank, a not so nice guy so it was said, who had a wooden leg due to a rail road accident.  She took care of the youngest boy at the beginning of his life and took care of the oldest boy at the end of his life.  Daisy never had a life of her own.  Some how she managed to survive through some sort of old age pension and a rail road pension that some how her brother or father, who had also worked for the rail road once, had managed to arrange.  Her limited income and survival technique was never really explained to me but that is not the family secret.

When Daisy died she left nothing to anyone, basically because she had nothing.  There were some knickknacks around the apartment that were sort of interesting and held some memories for me due to the fact that I had seen them all my life. 

It was left to my grandmother to get rid of anything that was left including Daisy who was buried in the family plot.  My grandmother asked me what I wanted and I said I liked the picture of the Gilded Age lady in the oval frame with the bubble glass.  I use to think it was a picture of Daisy when she was a young lady and when I asked as much she would laugh in what can only be described as a little embarrassing giggle with her hand placed over her mouth and mumble “no.”

Wife Marty wanted the frame with the bubble glass and was not interested in the picture, I was interested in the picture but not the bubbled glass frame.  

I extracted the picture and dutifully gave Marty the frame. (Which she has hanging in her house today, picture being replaced by a McAnally original of some sort.)  After the extract I noticed that on the reverse side there was in inscription in what I recognized as Daisy’s hand writing – “Charlie as Woman.”  I was a little puzzled.

I asked my grandmother about it and she said that was a picture of Cousin Charlie who was a female impersonator some time prior to the 1920’s.  He was an actor but specialized in playing a woman on stage.  “We never really talked about him much, I sort of figured he was just a little strange,” my grandmother said.

I have recently looked for the picture but some how have missed placed it, but the one that appears here is close to how I remember it. 

 

There will be more family secrets shared from time to time.

The Steam - Alaska

The following is based on a story told to me by Morene Lamont of Pitka’s Point, Alaska.  A similar version was first printed in Whispering Wind, American Indian: Past and Present Vol.  35  No. 5,  2006

             

The Steam

“There wasn’t a breath in that land of death…”   Robert W. Service

There was a whispering wind that entered the village but stayed.  Not the kind caused by a fluke in the atmosphere but the kind that settled in the soul.

No one was as they had been and the elders said that this type of feeling was common in February, but the intensity was uncommon however they all admitted.  People tried different thing to alleviate their situations but such relief, while welcomed, was only fleeting for the individuals and did nothing for the collective community. 

The elders said that some One in the village would eventually be able to counter, what the local Shaman claimed was a curse, but that some One had yet to make them selves known.  The village was dark, gloomy, and stagnate.

One day a mother decided that she and her son needed a steam.  She had not had one for awhile and thought that it would at least temporally take away the feeling of despair.  She felt the despair of the village but she had a private despair also.  She had no husband to provided for the two of them this winter.  Although her neighbors had helped her out in the past, there was no guarantee she could expect the same this winter given the circumstance, and they, the neighbors, would be facing their own hardships though out this particular Arctic night.

As she entered the steam she was excited to see that the stones were blazing red hot and ready to have water thrown on them to cause the healing steam to fill her and her son’s lungs and skin.  She tossed water on the stones with the scoop that was used for such things, but instead of the crackling and steam vapor erupting from the stones there was nothing but a hiss, a little sizzle, nothing like the color of the stones indicated there should be.  “I am wrong,” she said, “the stones are not ready.”  They left the steam, fueled the fire underneath the rocks and waited.  Eventually she felt like the time was now right and re entered the steam, threw the water on the glowing stones but the same thing happened as before.

Two more times she repeated this procedure.

On her fourth attempt when all she received for her efforts was a cackle and small sizzle, she decided to wait it out inside.  It was warm after all and she was afraid that by the constant in and out she would catch cold or even worse her child would catch cold.

As she sat there waiting, her son said to her, “Momma, don’t let the man touch me this time.”  She asked him what he was talking about.  “Every time we walk in here a hand touches my head and runs his hand down my body onto my feet.”  Just as he finished saying that the woman started throwing up, uncontrollably so.  She could not stop.  She held her hand out to her son and gestured that she needed water.  The son provided a tin can full of water from the steam bucket.  She knew what to do.  She drank half of the can and threw out the rest.  She did this three times.  She stopped throwing up; she then urinated in the can and threw it on the fire.  She then took the scraping knife hanging on the wall that was used to scrape bad skin off when having a normal steam.  She scraped her body and then the body of her son.  She took her towel and rubber he body down then the body of her son.  She took her son and ran outside naked to the elements.  Stunned by the cold, she forced herself and her son to stay there as long as they could.  They both reentered the steam and noticed the embers looked different.  She wrapped herself and son back up in the towels, tossed more water on the glowing embers and the steam erupted into a familiar cleansing vapor.

They stayed in there for an appropriate time.  When they left the steam the sun was shining, there was a raven calling from somewhere and she felt as if the gloom of the earth had subsided.  People started coming out of their dwellings and it was apparent that the whispering wind of depressions was no longer there.

The village was blessed the rest of the winter with full beaver and rabbit snares and over flowing fish nets.  The moose from across the river were more prevalent than normal and even caribou were seen in the area, an event that had not happened even the eldest of elders’ memory.  In deed the village had returned to normal, perhaps life was what it seemed.

It was a good steam.  The shamans said that these things happen.  The lady and her son were given extra portions of each hunters catch that winter to help them through the Arctic night.

                                                           

More Pictures from Alaska

Ted Stevens International Airport

Anchorage
Cook Inlet
Turn Again Arm
Seward
Willow
Talkeetna
Mt McKinley