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About jparquette

Fortunate and blessed in companionship with my wife of fifty seven years, in health and in modest, but more than adequate circumstances. Life is good.
February 5, 2012 · 11:08 pm

Fault Lines

Our American culture is replete with rifts both significant and trivial: rich vs. poor; equal opportunity vs. equal results; liberal vs. conservative; government as a solution vs. government as an obstacle; Patriots vs. Giants; pro life vs. pro abortion or pro assisted suicide; traditional one man one woman marriage vs. all manner of gay and sad alternates; Tea Party vs. Occupy Wall Street; Red Sox vs. Yankees; Bud Light vs. microbreweries.

Charles Murray, the libertarian political scientist and author, recently published his new book, “Coming Apart: The State of White America 1960-2010”.  He limited his research to the white population and his employment statistics to pre 2008 to mitigate the variances due to race and recession.  The results are striking.  He proposes that the political divide (Tea Party) and economic split (OWS), while divisive, are far from the worst of our deepening separations.  His conclusion is that the accelerating values gap between the upper middle class and the working class is debilitating and threatens to end American culture as we have defined it for 250 years.  Some of it is economic, but most damaging are the cultural differences.

Some definitions will clarify the argument.  Dr. Murray studied in depth Belmont, a white affluent suburb of Boston, and Fishtown, a white working class neighborhood in Philadelphia.  His classifications are calibrated by education and employment.  Most of the people in the Belmont group had at least bachelor’s degrees and worked as doctors, lawyers, business owners, managers and academics.  In the Fishtown group, most had high school educations or less and worked in clerical, retail or blue collar jobs requiring little training.

While taking into account the admonition about “lies, damn lies and statistics”, some must be included in this discussion for it to make sense.  Dr. Murray’s evidence is convincing.  Both upper and lower classes have been affected by the cultural tsunami of the last fifty years, but the mores and habits of the working class have been even more drastically altered, thus increasing the gap.  In 1960, the average annual family income in inflation adjusted current dollars for the elite ‘zip codes’ was $84,000; today in relative terms it is $163,000.  During the same time period, married families in the elite group dropped from 94% to 83%; among our working class married households has fallen from 84% to 48%.   Children raised by single parents have risen from 1% to 6% among the Belmont families, and from 6% to 65% among those with a high school education or less.  Regular practice of religion went from 71% to 60% in the upper middle class, and from 62% to 41% in the working class.  Controlling for the recession, the gap between upper and working class industriousness (dropping out of the jobs market and working less than 40 hours) has also grown demonstrably.

The distressing reality is that the cultural commonality among the elites and the workers has fallen apart.  “The centre cannot hold.”  Elites live in enclaves increasingly isolated from the common folk.  They eat different food, take care of their bodies differently, watch different entertainment, go to different schools, take different vacations and share less and less with fellow citizens of lesser means.  While there has always been a gap, as Alexis de Tocqueville noted about American culture in the 1830’s, “The more opulent citizens take great care not to stand aloof from the people.  On the contrary, they constantly keep on easy terms with the lower classes: They listen to them, they speak to them every day.”  For most that is no longer the reality of our daily lives.

Forty years ago or less, the population of America understood each other better, embracing a common civic culture and “shared experiences of daily life and shared assumptions about (core) American values involving marriage, honesty, hard work and religion.”  As we grow farther apart, communicating on a meaningful level becomes ever more problematic.  We talk at and around each other, not with each other.

The good news for Dr. Murray is that there is a burgeoning recognition  of the new American Great Divide as a grievous problem.   He suggests that the remedy is not amenable to government mandates or educational curricula; the cure is one family at a time, one person at a time and is the responsibility of each of us and all of us: to simply, make the effort to know one another better across the cultural divide.

One of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books was “The Long Winter”.  The life threatening challenges to Charles Wilder’s family were terrifying.  Our family sometimes wrapped in blankets just reading aloud about the cold and weeklong prairie blizzards.  Charles tied a rope from the door of their cabin to the barn. Each day he fed and milked their cow.  During the seemingly endless, howling storms, he would take a lantern, keep his hand on the rope and do his barn chores.  The rope protected him from losing his way in the storm; the blizzards were so intense that a dead reckoning error of just a few degrees would strand him, hopelessly unable to find his way back – a fatal mistake; he wouldn’t be found until the spring thaw.

Our lesson in that is this:  hold on to the rope.  Each family, each person.  Hold on to the rope.

Listening moves us closer, it helps us become more whole, more healthy, more holy. Not listening creates fragmentation, and fragmentation is the root of all suffering.
Margaret J. Wheatley

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January 29, 2012 · 10:40 pm

Free Speech is Not Always Free

Last Thursday at the Rhode Island Statehouse, the Occupy Providence folks joined by the “professionals” from Occupy Wall Street finally clarified their muddled message a bit while shutting down the Rhode Island Right to Life Committee’s annual rally in the rotunda.  Apparently greed is bad; abortion is good.  Abortion is so good, even though it already ends 23% of pregnancies in Rhode Island, there needs to be more of them, and indeed killing our unborn children should be an entitlement paid for with public tax dollars, breaching both tradition and the law in Rhode Island.

The governor, Lincoln Chaffee, recently issued an executive order to create the health benefit exchanges mandated by Obamacare.  When the state senate refused to pass the exchanges allowing abortion funding, the good governor took it upon himself to design them with the mandated payments for abortion.  This executive order is being challenged in the courts.  The Occupiers, like the governor, prefer administrative fiat and publically funded abortions, seizing by edict that which must be the legislature’s prerogative.  This strategy of executive strong-arming is exactly what President Obama explicitly has promised us should he be reelected.  The legislature be damned.

To reinforce their message, the Occupiers engaged in brown shirt thuggery and exercised their First Amendment rights by booing down the free speech of those who would exercise theirs.  Palpable anger, whistles, bumping, bullying grandmothers and children, fist pumping and pelting the high school girls of LaSalle Academy with condoms were taken, it seems, from the playbook of dilettante revolutionaries.  The well planned, orchestrated and slowly intensifying commotion started with signs and escalated with incremental crowding of the podium and intimidation of especially young pro life speakers to the point of making further speeches or prayers impossible.

They hooted down Barth Bracy, Executive Director of RIRTL, when he was telling them they weren’t part of the 99%, but a remnant of the survivors in the 77% of their demographic who dodged the abortionist.  Father Bernard Healey, who represented the Diocese of Providence, was prevented from leading the closing prayer.  The diocese actually implemented the homeless shelter that the Occupiers have been demanding ineffectually for months from the City of Providence.  Father Healey, an affable, intelligent man with a ready sense of humor, would have liked to pray for the mothers, the babies and the Occupy Providence mob, but was prevented from doing so.

These “revolutionaries” will eventually take showers (one would hope – those nearest them at the rally told us that personal hygiene was not their strong suit) and go back to their classrooms at Brown to check on their trust funds, but in the meanwhile they played winter camping out in tents in Burnside Park and disrupted the orderly gatherings of those with whom they disagree. Perhaps the Brown University Swearer Center for Public Service would consider setting up a homeless center themselves with the dorm capacity vacated by the Occupiers.  However, I suspect the Brown public service community is more comfortable with the theoretical when it comes to helping the homeless; the messy details are best left to other than the chardonnay crowd.

Providence Mayor Angel Taveras should follow the lead of the more courageous leadership in New York and Boston.  The time is past due for the Providence police to don their Tyvek hazardous material suits and filtered masks, clean out the tents and disinfect the area for use by the 99% of Providence residents and taxpayers who used to enjoy the park.

Freedom of speech is not a sometimes thing, available only to the loud and noxious.  The vast majority of Americans greatly value the right of peaceable assembly to express to their lawmakers their most heartfelt views on critical issues.  Pity the few who don’t so value the First Amendment and overrun that right for the rest of us with adolescent tantrums.

To suppress free speech is a double wrong. It violates the rights of the hearer as well as those of the speaker.  Frederick Douglass

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January 22, 2012 · 12:04 pm

Anniversary Waltz

In 1966, when he was nineteen, not much more than a boy really, he fell utterly in love with a girl who was so lovely, he caught his breath sometimes when he saw her. The sound of her voice brought him joy.  Her name was Rita, a name derived from Margarita or Marguerite, from the Greek and Latin, means “pearl”.  They could not be dissuaded by wiser parents and married in the winter of 1967, when they were twenty.  Spenser Tracy played the father character in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”, a great Stanley Kramer film of the same period; he told his daughter, who could not be talked out of marrying a black man (Sidney Poitier), that they would face great difficulty with a marriage of mixed race, but when he realized they were truly and totally in love, he told the family the only thing worse than them marrying would be them not marrying.  Rita and her young husband were in a similar state.

He hadn’t finished college, and Rita had just graduated as a registered nurse; she supported them for the first year and a half.  After a brief January Cape Cod honeymoon on semester break, the couple moved into a third story walk up apartment near the campus of Smith College in Northampton, MA, while he finished his degree at the University of Massachusetts.  He found summer work as a tree climber for an arborist company and paid for tuition and books. She started on a medical/surgical ward at Cooley Dickenson Hospital, where Ted Kennedy had recovered from a broken back suffered in the crash of a small plane. Very little extra money in the tin canister and they were completely happy.

Rita and Amy

More foolishness followed graduation.  After a year living back close to their parents, they ventured west for a year in Colorado: he as a tree climbing foreman, she as a pediatric nurse at Boulder General.  While there, their first child, Amy, was born, and they turned twenty three.  A long period of a dalliance starting with the almost obligatory left wing politics of Boulder followed. After returning to Massachusetts, first Boston, then Cape Cod, they moved for a decade to rural Maine.  In Maine, they survived the first real danger to their marriage in the midst of a long, cold winter, when the snow drifted halfway up the first story windows and cabin fever raged.  After nine years of marriage and months of their winter of discontent, they were literally a day short of separation with two young children, Amy and Gabriel.

Rita, Amy and Gabe

Reason, a return to the faith of their childhood, the grace of their sacrament and nothing short of a miracle intervened.  They stuck it out.  A difficult year later, their love bloomed again and never left them.  A third child was born while in Maine – Angela. They moved to Rhode Island, and their fourth baby, Meg, came home.

Rita stayed at home to raise their children for many years, except for some part time work as an obstetrical nurse and teaching as a certified childbirth educator.  When Meg started high school, she volunteered with the Diocese of Providence in their pro life office.  Her experiences with maternity nursing, training young mothers to give birth and with her own premature baby (2 lbs) had forged in her a profound fervor for pro life issues.

She was hired as executive director of a crisis pregnancy center, Woman to Woman, and then was recruited as executive director of the state wide Rhode Island Right to Life organization.  RIRTL offers material help to women in crisis pregnancies, educational talks at schools and churches, speeches at political rallies in the state house rotunda and maintains a legislative lobby. Rita did battle with newspapers, local television and legislators.  Her writing became effective, and she spoke to crowds of hundreds.  Upon her retirement, she received written commendations from both houses of the state legislature and the governor.  She had dinner with governors, bishops and congressmen.  None of which meant much to her, the commendations gather dust in a closet.  What mattered to her were the babies and the mothers. She was astonished at this public turn of events, but her husband was not.  Rita is a warrior.

Rita loves to read, especially history; she is a lifelong learner.  Her active mind takes great pleasure in discussion of politics, cultural issues and history.  Her husband and she like very much to walk in the woods or along a beach, holding hands and speaking of many things – sometimes the lives of their children, sometimes their grandchildren, and sometimes the volatile topics of the day.  She favors a few deep friendships to which she is fiercely loyal and is a member of Red Sox Nation.  Rita likes to sing and play her guitar.  She draws well and enjoys sketching.  Her Italian and Portuguese heritage helped her become a good cook.   Her sometimes quick temper, which flows from her passionate nature, flairs far less frequently now, and they rarely have cross words.  Her husband still loves her like life itself; Rita is the greatest blessing of his life, and he is grateful.  The love of this young couple matured and will last them until death do them part.

Forty five years ago today they were married.  Happy anniversary, beautiful.

Proverbs 31

When one finds a worthy wife,           
her value is far beyond pearls.
Her husband, entrusting his heart to her,
has an unfailing prize.
She brings him good, and not evil,
all the days of her life.

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January 15, 2012 · 11:04 pm

Exultation

One of the more attractive and hopeful aspects of the human personality is our capacity for wonder, curiosity and the joy of the “Eureka” moment discovering the solution to seemingly insurmountable, vexing challenges.  A story from the past week brought this marvel to mind.

Public Broadcasting’s NOVA series ran a program about Hugh Hunt, a Cambridge University engineering professor, and his inquiry into an early WWII bombing raid by Great Britain that temporarily shut down the heartland of the Third Reich’s war equipment industry in the Ruhr Valley.  In 1942 with the war against Hitler in grave danger a British engineer, Barnes Wallis, convinced the Royal Air Force that he could breach the immense Möhne and Eder dams, which would flood coal mines and deprive the steel plants of necessary water and hydroelectric power to disrupt the production of tanks, planes and munitions for the German war machine.  Fearsome anti aircraft emplacements and the inaccuracy of bombs of the early war (only 10% hit within 5 miles of their targets) thus far had kept the dams safe.  To prevent air dropped torpedoes from reaching the dams, large, steel submarine nets were installed below the waterline across the huge lakes.  Wallis designed the famous “bouncing bombs”, code named “Upkeep”, which could skip across the water and sink adjacent to the dams, detonating after they dropped thirty feet below the surface. Delivery necessitated low level, risky flying.

On the night of May 16, 1943 a 617 RAF Squadron of 19 Lancaster bombers attacked the dams with the “Upkeep” bombs suspended beneath their fuselages. The concussive wave from their explosives, magnified by the weight of the water above them, blew out large sections of the dams and flooded the valleys.  In addition to damaging the mines and power plants, 25 bridges were washed out.  Eight bombers and fifty three members of the “Dam Busters” squadron did not survive the raid, but their success was one of the most significant of the war.

In 2011, Hugh Hunt was intrigued by how Wallis managed to skip what looked like oil drums across the water.  Most of the 1940’s notes were lost in local floods in 1960, and no one had been able to duplicate Barnes Wallis’s achievement since.  After months of meticulous research, Hunt was ready to test his theories at a remote lake in Canada.  He assembled a team that included a dam engineer and contractor to build a 30’ high model of the original dam.  They poured hundreds of concrete 2’ x 2’ x 4’ blocks that interlocked like Lego blocks, overcoming numerous design, soil type and topography problems.  First they cut a deep channel from the lake then built the dam in the middle of it.  Once it was completed, the last barrier of soil separating the channel from the lake was dug out, filling the channel behind the dam. It took six intense weeks to complete.

Two weeks of field testing in the lake required Arnie Schreder, a bush pilot with thirty years of experience, to fly his two engine WWII vintage DC-4 over 200 MPH only 50 feet above the water to achieve the necessary angle and speed of entry for the barrel.  Flying that low put the plane at risk of being damaged or even broken up by the impact splash when the barrel hit the lake.  Experiments with cement filled barrels had proven that a backspin of over 700 RPM was necessary to make them skip.  In Wallis’s version, an engine had been fitted to the bomb release mechanism under the plane to achieve the necessary spin.  Hugh Hunt devised a low budget solution that required spinning up the barrel with a large commercial drill to 1,600 RPM on the ground, and then releasing it over the lake before it slowed below 700.

At the last minute, tests proved their commercial drop mechanism designed for forest fire fighting was inadequate for the task, putting the barrel into the water at an angle, instead of the perfect parallel it required.  Two days before the crucial final drop, Hunt rented a local machine shop to alter the arms on the mount, personally cutting and welding into the night.  The day before the critical drop, Jim Bellevance, the dam contractor, stopped the leaks and finished the dam.  As each difficult hurdle was cleared, the team celebrated with shouts and hugs all around.

On the day of the final test, explosives were lowered into the water adjacent to the dam. The Canadian government’s toleration of this motley team of scientists, flyers and builders did not extend to letting them fly over sovereign territory with live bombs.  Hugh Hunt’s promise to Arnie Schreder was that if he could manage to skip the 300 pound barrel five times down the lake, into the channel and against the dam, Hunt would detonate the charge beneath it.  The crew pulled back to a safe distance and tensely watched the dénouement of a year’s planning and effort.  Arnie flew tight on the right line and low.  The barrel released perfectly and bounced hard five times and into the top of the dam.  When the dam blew, Hunt danced like a child, hugged one of his engineers and pumped his fist into the air.  No one watching could see scientists as detached and undemonstrative.

I was reminded of my 3 year old granddaughter, Gianna.  She will spend a half hour painstakingly building a Lego structure with windows, towers, bridges, cars, stairs and doors. Her intense focus is a marvel.  When it is finally finished to her satisfaction, she will look at us and her creation with great satisfaction, then delight in smashing it to oblivion.  Absolute delight.  Exultation.  The joy of simply being human.

Fair is what we see, Fairer what we have perceived, Fairest what is still in veil.

Blessed Nicolas Steno.  Father of modern geology with significant contributions to anatomy and paleontology as well.  Danish Bishop. Born January 11, 1638. Beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1988.

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January 8, 2012 · 6:41 pm

The Fourth Greatest President in American History (Part 1)

Future Mount Rushmore?

President Obama consistently differentiates Himself from mere mortal politicians. No great surprise that in his impregnable narcissism during an interview on “Sixty Minutes” he portrayed the ‘accomplishments’ of his first term as superior to any prior president with the possible exceptions of Johnson (presumably Lyndon), FDR and Lincoln.  (Click here to watch video – back arrow to return to blog.)  I am hard pressed to catch my breath with that claim.  Even CBS had to do a double take (or in this case an outtake).

Compare the Roosevelt response to the Great Depression and the Obama response to the financial crisis of 2008.  A debate about Keynesian economics is way beyond the scope of this humble blog, but FDR faced a far worse unemployment and financial crisis than we experienced in 2008.  Unemployment topped 25% with a 37% rate of non-farm unemployment in 1933.  He built permanent public works projects such as the Hoover Dam and developed a public employment program, the Civilian Conservation Corps, which hired young, single men between 18 and 25.  These men were exercised into good physical shape, trained to be more employable and accomplished multiple conservation goals in erosion and flood control, forest culture and protection, disaster relief, structural improvements and wildlife conservation – not quite the same as the nonexistent ‘shovel ready’ jobs of the Obama era. Over its 9 year history until the beginning of WWII, over 2.5 million young men had jobs, money for their families and restored dignity.  Stan Musial, Aldo Leopold, Chuck Yeager, Robert Mitchum, Archie Moore, my father and father-in-law were all enrollees.

In contrast, President Obama crafted the most egregious example of pork barrel earmarks-for- friends Federal spending in American history, over $800 billion.  His history of crony capitalism extends from the earliest years of his career.  As an Illinois state senator in his book, “Audacity of Hope”, Obama told of having his credit card declined when his law business was out of money.  His political ally and wealthy campaign donor, Robert Blackwell, paid him an $112,000 legal retainer to save him from bankruptcy.  What his book failed to note was that State Senator Obama shepherded through a $320,000 Illinois tourism grant to subsidize a state Ping-Pong tournament that benefitted Blackwell’s table tennis company.

President Obama’s long political and financial connections with the now imprisoned ex governor, Rod Blagojevich and real estate developer Antoin (Tony) Rezko as well as with millionaire slumlord and Democrat king maker Valerie Jarrett (still with him as his Senior Advisor on Public Engagement and Intergovernmental Affairs) and Mayor Richard J. Daley are well documented in NY Times bestselling author, Michelle Malkin’s 2009 book on the Obama administration history, “Culture of Corruption”.  President Obama’s roots are deeply embedded in Chicago Democrat machine politics.  The corrupt profligacy of the American Recovery and Investment Act of 2009 is no surprise, but a predictable continuation of his record.

In the interest of brevity, let’s look at just one facet of the Recovery Act, the Department of Energy’s 1705 Loan Guarantee Program and 1603 Grant Program for alternative fuel and green power projects.  As documented in Peter Schweizer’s recent book, “Throw Them All Out”, oversight of the loans distribution was not entrusted to a scientist or even an experienced Department of Energy bureaucrat, but to Steve Spinner, an Obama appointee.  Mr. Spinner was previously on the campaign’s National Finance Committee, was a significant campaign contributor and bundler himself; he sat on the White House Business Council.  The grant allocations were stage managed by Sanjay Wagle, who was the co chairperson of Cleantech and Green Business Leaders for Obama, which supplied millions for his campaign.

Of the $20.5 billion in ‘green’ loan guarantees, $16.4 billion went to companies “either run by or primarily owned by Obama financial backers – individuals who were bundlers, members of his campaign’s National Finance Committee or large donors to the Democratic Party.”  Most were early backers of his presidential run for office.  The Solyndra scandal was the most public failure ($573 million in loan guarantees), but there were others.  As you may remember 35% of Solyndra was owned by George Kaiser, major Obama donor and bundler.  The President personally went to the California factory twice to brag of all the green jobs created there.  Solyndra never was able to manufacture a solar panel for less than they sold it for.  After the bankruptcy, all jobs were lost almost overnight.

Loans often went to previously small or almost nonexistent companies.  The owners often took advantage of the credibility lent to them by the guarantees, took their companies public and cashed out.  Steve Farber, a major donor to the DNC and the 2008 convention host, along with Steve Westy, who bundled more than $500,000 for the campaign, openly advertised in the Wall Street Journal that their connections would ‘hook up’ a company for loans and grants.

Some, such as Granite Reliable Wind ($135 million), were companies directly connected to White House staff.  The company was owned by CCMP Capital, of which Nancy-Ann DeParle, White House Deputy Chief of Staff, had been the managing director.  A wind farm subsidized by the Federal government cost less than 55% of what non subsidized companies had to pay.  Grants were given to companies with less than 10% private equity skin in the game.  Normal grant approvals required at least 30% private equity investment.  The Congressional General Accounting Office found numerous incidents of a lack of transparency in the applications and favoritism to ‘friends and families’ among the winners. The GAO was ignored.

A final typical example was Leucadia Energy, which was awarded grants and loan guarantees totaling $3.5 billion for three separate projects.  The company is a subsidiary of Leucadia National.  At the time of the administration’s decision, Leucadia Energy had annual revenues of $120,000 and one employee, when it was given billions.  Perhaps not surprisingly, Chairman and CEO Ian Cumming was a member of the 2008 Obama National Finance Committee and DNC Convention Committee.  Cumming wrote large personal checks contributing to Obama campaign funds in the weeks just before the approvals.  Eighteen months later in December of 2010, exactly three jobs had been created.

Next week another aspect of this fourth greatest presidency.

“Associate with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company.”  George Washington

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January 2, 2012 · 7:35 pm

Retrospectives

Papa Jack hanging Christmas lights in our first house in Maine

Retrospectives for the previous year are ubiquitous in late December:  “The Best Of” and “Worst Of” lists – movies, theater, books, television, every sport known to humankind and Broadway shows; news stories of significance ranked by their impact on our lives and imaginations; fashion and entertainment “ins” and “outs”, championships and crushing defeats.  Late December also evokes a personal retrospective.  December 29th marked what would have been my father’s 95th birthday and the 29th anniversary of his death on the day he turned sixty six, especially poignant for me since I will turn sixty six in February.

Papa Jack was, as are we all, both ordinary and extraordinary.  He didn’t make any Man of the Year lists.  He was a salesperson selling all manner of products and services over the course of his career from land in Arizona to Yellow Page ads and Walpole Woodworker’s fence; death befell him prior to retirement, he liked his work most of the time.  A father of six and grandfather of fourteen, Papa Jack was an imperfect, but unforgettable Dad. He had few role models to learn to be a father, growing up in pre-Depression three deckers in Lynn, MA, a small hardscrabble mill city of working poor and lower middle class folks north of Boston.  His own father, a show troupe manager from Buffalo, NY, was killed in World War I shortly after my father’s birth; his mother, a former Vaudeville singer and Irish immigrant, died when Papa Jack was still a teenager.  Before World War II, he assembled aircraft engines at the “G.E.”, Lynn’s largest employer.   After Pearl Harbor, he joined the Army.

His closest Army buddy was ‘Sonny’ (John) Laracy, the twin brother of my mother, Betty, which is how my parents met.  Sonny and Jack slogged through half of France, Luxemburg and Belgium; he never told us combat stories, except for one.  Most of his WW II stories poked fun at his predilection for humor and running afoul of rules.  Sonny and he were scouts in an advanced Intelligence and Reconnaissance unit for the 52nd Armored Infantry Battalion.  My dad was a sergeant, and they had their own Jeep, although he told us of driving a half track as well.

In the early bad days of the Battle of the Bulge, in the Ardennes Forest of Belgium, troops were pinned down in the snow by deadly artillery, tank and small arms fire.  On December 18, 1944, my Dad and Sonny were separated as the Germans overwhelmed their position; my Dad remembers looking across a field and seeing Sonny racing away, waving back at him, unable to come back with only a suicidal run risking the lives of the other soldiers clinging to the Jeep as an option.  My father, along with many others, was captured and spent the next three months as a prisoner of war.  He spent several weeks living in a boxcar when American Mustangs returning from protecting bombing runs frequently strafed German trains.  The Americans would form the letters P O W in the snow to caution the pilots and stop the shooting.

At the end of his three months as a POW, the Germans drove several canvas roofed trucks transporting the Americans into a remote field.  The prisoners were herded out of the trucks to stand shivering in the snow.  Another truck backed up to the huddled men, surrounded by their guards. The tailgate dropped to reveal a tripod mounted machine gun and two grim German soldiers, one of whom jacked back the action to chamber the first round.  A tense and hopeless silence followed with only the sounds of the cooling engines.  No birds sang.  After what must have been minutes, but seemed an eternity, the soldiers manning the gun laughed mirthlessly, and the truck drove off, leaving the prisoners to make their way back.  When their captors slipped away, American soldiers soon liberated them.

I remember when I was ten or so, attending a Fourth of July cookout at a friend of my family’s.  The friend was Norwegian by birth and had a wood fired sauna in his back yard.  My dad went in with a couple of others.  As a joke, one of the other men jammed a shovel against the door, and started setting off firecrackers against the walls.  My father yelled for him to stop.  He did not.  My father screamed the only time I ever heard that sound; he was a big man, a strong athlete.  He kicked the door off its hinges and emerged furious and shaking.  The joker ran into the house.

My father was the king of street football quarterbacks among my friends and brothers. In his early twenties, he was the home run champion of the Lynn Softball League, playing for the General Electric team.  Before Tee Ball existed he almost despaired of trying to teach his eight year old son how to hit a baseball.  He patiently drilled a hole through a ball, and secured it with a string and a nail to a tree branch where I would happily, though for the most part, ineffectively flail away.  He stood and called out in the stadium at my college graduation, “That’s my boy!”

My dad drank a bit too much, smoked too much, told an easy, usually irreverent and wonderful joke at any opportunity, especially at wakes, and could quiet a room with his memorable Irish tenor.  Not a dry eye after Danny Boy.  My earliest memories of church are in the choir loft while my father would solo Ave Maria or Panis Angelicus.  To help remember his voice, we only have three songs recorded by my brother on a Dictaphone at my cousin’s wedding in 1970. The sound quality is not good, but he can be clearly heard on this link.  Papa Jack sings “On This Day”  Back arrow to return to post.

He was, like most of his generation, flawed, but resolute, and for his kids, a faultless hero.  A year before his death, he came up from Massachusetts, and we roomed together at a three day Catholic men’s retreat in Augusta, Maine near where I lived.  During recreation time, we played in a volleyball tournament and won.  He no longer could soar as he once had, but was a master of the heart breaking deke and soft placement of a point winning shot.  At the end of the three days, our families joined us.  We all took a turn telling briefly of our experience on the retreat. I was able to tell him and the couple of hundred in the audience that I loved him and always had.  I’m forever grateful that I did.

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December 18, 2011 · 4:08 pm

Dona Nobis Pacem

The Christmas vs. Holiday tree controversy is threadbare and tedious, even in Rhode Island.   Going into the last week of Advent, it is advisable to avoid other combustible topics unrelated to the season: brevity and simplicity this week.

Christmas celebrates the birth of Christ: the rest is accoutrement. This is a particularly difficult focus to maintain in 2011. George Will once wrote in an honest, low moment, “Christmas will soon be at our throats.”  Regardless of Black Friday, marketing that begins in October, tinsel, flash, dreadful derivative music and parties, our little family prefers to keep the gift giving thoughtful, but minimal, sing perennially moving traditional carols, hold candlelight processions led by the little ones to the crèche my father-in-law built and my mother populated with exquisite hand painted ceramic figures of the Baby Jesus, Joseph, Mary, sheep and shepherds, camels and kings.  Simplicity in this thorny time of year is our hope; attaining simplicity is an annual struggle.

Two Advent readings resonate this year and convey two most valuable Christmas lessons. The saints speak most eloquently.

 The first reminds us to seek out peace, even and especially when chaos and FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) threaten to overwhelm.  From Thomas à Kempis’s classic, “Imitation-of-Christ“:  “A man who lives at peace suspects no one.  But a man who is tense and agitated by evil is troubled with all kinds of suspicions; he is never at peace with himself, nor does he permit others to be at peace…  Above all things, keep peace within yourself, then you will be able to create peace among others.  It is better to be peaceful than learned.”

The second Christmas message is that every human being we encounter has intrinsic worth as their birthright and must be treated with dignity and respect irrespective of the accidents of nativity, appearance, intelligence, equanimity or station.  The eternal human soul is existentially dearer than church or planet or universe or any ephemeral thing.   From a sermon by Blessed Isaac of Stella, a 12th century abbot:  “Christ dwelt for nine months in the tabernacle of Mary’s womb.  He dwells until the end of the ages in the tabernacle of the Church’s faith.  He will dwell forever in the knowledge and love of each faithful soul.”

So to each of you precious souls reading these words and to those you love: Merry Christmas, a peaceful, simple Christmas season and a blessed 2012.

A lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.      Garrison Keillor

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December 11, 2011 · 8:38 pm

Entropy

Wind turbines appear from a distance to rotate anywhere between indolent and enthusiastic, but in close their lethal potential is apparent.  Perfectly balanced atop a two hundred and fifty foot tower, three graceful blades encompass a diameter of nearly one hundred and forty five feet.  At the tips, they crush through the air at nearly one hundred miles an hour.  To steady powerful torque, the tower is anchored in tons of concrete.  Their whistling has been compared to the sound of a rapidly flying duck close over the water, only louder and incessant.  Clustered wind farms, located in geography with steady Class Four and Five winds, drive neighbors and wildlife to distraction.  The base of a typical tower well north of Cheyenne is littered with corpses of dead birds and bats, including sage grouse, which finds half of its North American habitat in Wyoming.  Since steady winds and large human populations are usually not found in close proximity, hundreds of miles of high voltage towers are necessary to transmit the electricity.  The wires and wind farms disrupt the routes and winter feeding grounds of migratory mammals such as antelope, elk and bison.  When the wind is becalmed, there is no power; when demand is not required for the grid, the spinning is fruitless.

The point is not that this means of generation is tilting at windmills, but that any source of power carries an environmental impact and is imperfect.  A coherent energy policy continues to elude us.   “Green” advocates condemn all power generation that consumes fossil fuels, but the alternates do not provide an answer in the midterm future.  When total expenditures for various methods of power generation including construction, fuel and production costs, waste disposal and decommissioning at the end of their effective lifetime are tallied, the costs per kilowatt hour and the percentage each represents of U.S. total generated power are as follows:

  • Hydro electric:  $ .03 – 6.1%,
  • Nuclear: $. 04 – 19.7%,
  •  Coal:  $ .04 – 48.7%,
  • Wind:  $ .08,
  • Solar:  $ .22 – All renewable sources, including wind and solar: 3.0%,
  • Natural gas and Petroleum: $ .10 – 22.5% (21.4% of it gas and 1.1% oil).

Given the percentages of our energy derived from hydro carbons as well as their cost advantages, it is not clear how they could be supplanted by renewables hastily without profound economic disruption.

Nuclear and hydro have their own limitations. Carving out hydro dams is disruptive, interring whole towns under millions of tons of water, and the site opportunities are limited.  Although spent nuclear fuel can be reprocessed with 99% efficiency, eventually waste has to be safely stored and sealed for centuries; Chernobyl, Three Mile Island and Fukushima remind us that human error or uncontrollable natural events can visit catastrophe upon wide areas.  Biofuels have been a disaster of rainforest depletion and higher food prices for those most vulnerable.   Solar cells require energy intense manufacturing similar to computer chips, and the mining of silicone and other minerals has its own inherent environmental degradation.  A solar cell must produce for almost a third of its projected life to “pay back” the energy consumed in its manufacture.

The controversy over the Keystone Pipeline and the process of horizontal drilling and “fracking” is yet another unresolved opportunity.  The enormous reserves of natural gas and oil from shale deposits in the United States and Canada have the potential to give us time to let economic forces develop alternative sources.  Yet, we remain deadlocked and even insult our friendliest neighbor.  Canada will sell their gas and oil; whether they sell to us or build an alternate outlet to their western harbors to ship to China remains to be seen.

“Fracking” may create some problems for aquifers, but the findings in Wyoming, Pennsylvania and Texas are to date inconclusive.  The only compromised well water appears to be in remote areas where old mines were revived with the process much shallower than is being done in new exploration.   When wells are drilled deep, protected by intervening horizontal geological formations and encased properly, there seems to be little risk of contaminating ground water.  Environmental activists want no use of hydro carbon based fuel, and so oppose the process and the pipeline irrespective of their real or perceived risks.  But gas burns cleaner than coal.

A “keystone” is a carved stone at the apex of an arch, that most efficient and enduring architectural element.  The keystone secures the structure and balances the opposing forces of the arch.  Perhaps this is an appropriate metaphor for a solution.  Along with converting more electrical generation and vehicles to natural gas, using our own reserves and buying from Canada, delivering it via the Keystone Pipeline to our own refineries in Houston leads us down the road to energy independence.  The pipeline has been studied in depth for three years and no serious environmental risk has been identified.  Construction of the pipeline means 20,000 jobs almost immediately.

Oil and gas production in our country with the new technology has grown jobs in this industry from 200,000 to 440,000 since 2003.  $38 billion in Federal loans under the current administration has added only 3,500 green jobs, and much of the money was wasted in Solyndra scandals and billions more in tax credits as windfalls to wind farm developers, artificially lowering their costs. Let the market sort out the efficiencies we need to solve our multifaceted energy challenges and end our dependence on unstable nations with stated intentions to destroy us.

Latin proverb:

Destitutus ventis, remos adhibe

“If the wind will not serve, take to the oars.”

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December 4, 2011 · 6:42 pm

The China Model – Handle with Care

Ambulances and vans pull to the side of a remote road and idle; surgeons and assistants wait patiently just after sunset.  Gun shots signal the onset of frantic activity.  The final few hundred yards are driven into an open area; still warm bodies of executed criminals, political prisoners and religious dissenters are carried into makeshift mobile operating facilities.  Body parts are hastily harvested with the occasional chest contraction or gasp from not quite yet dead donors.  The commodity market for livers, kidneys, corneas and the occasional heart not ruined by a bullet is lucrative (about $4,700 for a good kidney). Victims were given anti coagulants to help ensure good results and told the injections were anesthesia to mitigate pain during their executions.  The only provided anesthesia penetrated the right side of their chests at 300 meters per second from a Norinco knockoff of the 9 mm Tokarev Model 213, the reliable sidearm of Chinese officialdom.

Not some ghastly science fiction by Michael Crichton or Robin Cook, but true horror in an immense region in northwestern China called East Turkestan.   No , this story is true and was related to Ethan Guttmann from the Foundation for the Defense of Democracies by two former doctors forced into service by the Chinese Army:  Nijat Abdureyim and Enver Tohti, and was published in last week’s Weekly Standard.  They were ordered to cut deep and fast.  An estimated 65,000 Turkestan, mostly Muslim, were ‘harvested’ in the late 1990’s.  Ethnically, the original inhabitants are Turkic and now a minority to the imported Han Chinese.  More recently, this profitable sideline of culling those that challenge the state was visited upon the unlucky chosen of Falun Gong, three million of whom were funneled through Chinese corrections facilities.  Prisoners were blood tested and tissue matched before those selected for execution were lead away.  Occasionally, Chinese officials in need of a kidney or liver waited in a hospital and were matched with a not yet dispatched donor.  At the end of a restaurant interview, Dr. Tohti turned to Dr. Abdureyim, saying, “Nijat, we really are going to hell.”  His companion was silent and knocked back his beer.

When girls were born to Turkestan women, mid wives were known to inject them with “antibiotics”, which were not administered to Chinese infants.  Within two weeks, the babies turned blue and died.  If confronted, mid wives told the mothers their babies were simply not up to handling the “medicine”.  Well documented ‘one child’ policies and forced abortions by the Chinese government expose pervasive human rights abuse.  Tallying the atrocities of the Cultural Revolution, the government of China has murdered millions in the interest of the supremacy of the far left State and the People.

A second article about China this week by Andy Stern appeared in the Wall Street Journal editorial pages.  Mr. Stern is a fellow at Columbia University’s Richman Center and is the former president of the Service Employees International Union (SEIU).  According to the filing with the Federal Election Commission, the SEIU PAC was the largest single contributor to President Obama’s election campaign with over $27 million taken from the dues of healthcare, property services and public employees. Stern was appointed by President Obama to the National Commission on Fiscal Responsibility and Reform (?!?).  During his tenure, the SEIU also donated $6 million to ACORN, the community action group discredited for voter fraud.  The SEIU was deemed the “most engaged and influential” lobby for the ObamaCare bill.  Stern was the most frequent visitor to the White House during the first year of the administration – 22 times according to White House logs.   Perhaps some microbrews in the Rose Garden discussing preferred mentors of President Obama like Saul Alinsky (author of “Rules for Radicals”)?

In his editorial, Stern praises the superiority of the China model of the “planned economy” as clearly the future. The editorial is smooth and persuasively written.  “The free market fundamentalist economic model is being thrown onto the trash heap of history”.  He cites China’s ascent to become the world’s second largest economy, their 10% wage growth (although many citizens in China still live in third world conditions), their commitment to next generation Information Technology (how much is pirated is not mentioned), and he waxes most rhapsodic about their penchant for five year plans, while the “Americans are planning only for the next election”.  Five year plans worked out especially well for the late, unlamented Soviet Union.

A third “China” allusion this week is cited in a Yuval Levin National Review article. Peter Orszag, former budget director for the Obama administration, is quoted from his editorial in “The New Republic”.  He tells us we need to take power from Congress and give it to “automatic policies and depoliticized commissions.  Radical as it sounds, we need to counter the gridlock of our political institutions by making them a bit less democratic.”  President Obama has frequently said similar things, presumably as long as he controls the commissions.  He has told aides that making the changes he wants would be a lot easier if he was the president of China.  Whether ironic whimsy or a revelatory foretaste is up to you.

A favored quote of Saul Alinsky is, “History is a relay of revolutions” and another is “Power is not only what you have, but what the enemy thinks you have.”  His plan for the radicals of the sixties was to clean up, get haircuts and infiltrate through political action to the highest positions of power they could attain.  To underestimate their intelligence and determination is a grievous error.

The left is alive and well in Beijing, on American campuses like Columbia, in unions like the SEIU and on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, in Washington, DC.

“All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them.”  — Galileo

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November 27, 2011 · 9:43 am

Assassins

On Good Friday in April of 1865, the guard on duty outside the Presidential box, John Parker, took advantage of the time President and Mrs. Lincoln would be watching the play, “Our American Cousin”, to descend the back stairs of Ford’s Theatre to the adjacent Tatavul’s saloon and ordered a tankard of ale.  At the other end of the bar sat John Wilkes Booth, building his courage with a whiskey after completing his preparations. The assassin left the tavern, and as a celebrity actor strode unimpeded through the theatre.

Booth slipped into the unguarded dark corridor leading to State Box in Ford’s Theatre.  Timing his arrival to coincide with the funniest line of the play, he hoped the laughter of the audience would cover any commotion before he took his shot.  Booth checked through the small hole he had bored in the wooden partition earlier in the day and saw the back of the president’s head.  Silently he pushed back the unlatched door, extended his arm and discharged his derringer.  The ½” ball smashed into Lincoln’s skull just behind his left ear, traversed his brain and stopped just shy of exiting near his right eye.  President Lincoln slumped forward in his chair without a cry and died the next morning across the street in the commandeered bedroom of a boarding house with his wife Mary in the next room still in the clothes stained with her husband’s blood.

Booth’s co-conspirators, George Atzerodt and Lewis Powell, were not as lethal.  Powell forced his way into the home of Secretary of State William Sewell, and with his Bowie knife repeatedly slashed the bed ridden Sewell.  After a long recovery Sewell lived.  The hapless Atzerodt was too drunk to go to Vice President Andrew Johnson’s room at the Kirkwood House.  Only Booth accomplished his part in their deadly conspiracy to destroy the top three positions in the Executive Branch of the government.  Booth was never tried and was shot through the spine while resisting capture; he died at 26.

With the survival of the barely educated Andrew Johnson from Tennessee, the aftermath of the Civil War was dramatically altered and America’s “Reconstruction” followed a bad turn.  Lincoln had made clear his intentions of leniency and reconciliation, planning to use the balance of his final term in office to lead the country through healing and opportunity for nine million freed slaves.  The brutal corruption of the “carpetbaggers” sanctioned by vengeful Congressmen and undeterred by the inept Johnson sealed in the bitter resentment of the former Confederates and the ascendency of the Klu Klux Klan.  Embedded racism and Jim Crow laws persisted for another century.  A deep wound did not heal.  What could have been had President Lincoln lived can never be known.

Ninety eight years later in November of 1963, another president fell, but this time to a lone assassin, the troubled Lee Harvey Oswald.  A former U.S. Marine with a history of court-martials, Oswald returned from a three year defection in the Soviet Union with a Russian wife and child.  He hoped to emigrate again, this time to Cuba for another try at a “purer” version of socialist utopia, but Cuba examined his record and rejected him.  In April of 1963, Oswald missed with a sniper shot at retired General Edwin Walker, hitting the window frame in Walker’s home office.  He was never a suspect until after Dallas.  Oswald got a job at the Texas Book Depository in Dallas.

Lee Harvey Oswald brought an inexpensive, 6.5 caliber mail order, bolt action Carncano scoped rifle to work the day the route of President Kennedy’s well publicized motorcade was to pass in front of the Book Depository.  Oswald set up in a sixth floor window in a nearly deserted section of the warehouse and waited.

His first shot passed through President Kennedy’s neck, probably not fatal, and seriously wounded Texas Governor John Connally, sitting in the front seat of their convertible limo.  The second shot missed.  The confused driver inexplicably slowed the limo.  The third shot slammed into the president’s head, tearing out massive portions of his brain and skull.  He was rushed to Parkland Hospital, but President Kennedy was certainly instantaneously brain dead.   Oswald later in the day murdered Dallas policeman J.D. Tippitt when Tippitt exited his patrol car to question Oswald.  He was never tried and after his capture was gut shot in jail by Dallas strip club owner and police hanger on, Jack Ruby; Oswald died at 24.

Vice President Lyndon Johnson, a former Texas Senator, was sworn in on the plane that carried the President’s body before it headed back to Washington.  Kennedy’s wife Jacqueline stood next to Johnson still in the clothes stained with her husband’s blood.

President Kennedy had spoken of pulling back from Vietnam and was a fiscal conservative. Johnson escalated the Vietnam War and ushered in the Great Society welfare entitlement that debilitated the minority population for the next fifty years.  The war and the subsequent assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy five years later precipitated a generation of disillusionment, discontent and dilettante revolution, the repercussions of which ripple down to this day.  What could have been had President Kennedy lived can never be known.

Quote attributed to a homily from St. Marcarius (fourth century Egyptian monk):

“When a house has no master living in it, it becomes dark, vile and contemptible…. Woe to the house where no master dwells, to the field where no farmer works, to the pilotless ship, storm-tossed and sinking.”

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