The Loneliest Road(s) In America

For Thanksgiving 2018 Cheri and I took a little road trip to Denver, Colorado.  My/our youngest daughter, Valerie, and her husband, Matt, moved from Dallas to Denver last year.  They have a nice house and a nice life.  My/our other Harper daughter, Jessica, flew in from Idaho.  She has a nice house and a nice life in Idaho, but more on that below.

Our road trip to Denver took us from the San Joaquin Valley of California to Lake Tahoe, over the I-80 to Reno, across Nevada and Utah to Salt Lake City, and partway to Cheyenne, Wyoming.  Snowstorms closed the I-80 and we had to backtrack and take a different route.  We ended up forging our way on a snowy and icy two-lane road (Wyoming 430) wending through some of the loneliest parts of Southern Wyoming south of Rock Springs.  Cheri's all-wheel drive car was up to the task, but I could imagine sliding off the road, being buried by snow, and not being found until some cattle rancher found us at the spring thaw.  At the border of Wyoming and Colorado, the road became a dirt road (Colorado 10 North) wending through some of the loneliest territory in Northwest Colorado.  We made it back to civilization and on down to Denver.  Along the way we saw some really beautiful country we did not expect to see, and would never have seen but for an unexpected road closure.

Including Cheri's three kids (and their families), our blended family now boasts five "kids" in five different states -- Pennsylvania, Indiana, Colorado, Idaho and California.  We both love all five of our 30-something kids and their families and are glad to have them all in our lives.  The circumstances that brought Cheri and I together and blended our families was something like the road closure on I-80.  The way we planned to go was blocked, and a new way had to be found.  The paths of our lives are not what we intended, but we have experienced unexpected beauty along our new paths.  

Some of our friends have all of their family surrounding them within a short distance.  They needn't plan so carefully or spend so much time or money to get together, so they see each other often.  This is how it was with my parents and siblings for a number of years, and I imagined it would be this way for my family, as well.  Perhaps it would be this way if Sue hadn't died from complications of cancer in 2010.  Perhaps not.  The last book Sue read was by Maya Angelou, and I love the Maya Angelou quote on the page I found marked:  If you don't like something, change it.  If you can't change it, change your attitude.

 Five kids in five states is an opportunity.  We also love the beauty and diversity of the lands of these great United States, and having five kids in five states gives us more opportunity to see more of what's out there.  Denver and Boulder boast some of the finest scenic mountain environs, and while we were out there visiting we got out and reveled in some of the beauty.

Sue has a cousin, Chris, who lives in Denver not too far from where Valerie and Matt settled.  Both of my daughters, Valerie and Jessica, have enjoyed getting to know their 2nd cousin, Chris.  Chris had a road-closure-life-detour experience himself recently when his wife also passed from cancer.  Chris is a gem of a nice guy and a long-time professional chef.  He, along with his good friend, Madeline, cooked Thanksgiving dinner, and Madeline hosted us at her beautiful house.  King Solomon, in all his glory, never "ate so good!" (Cheri made three awesome pies to close the evening.)  Madeline is a gracious and accomplished person, ironically an oncologist, and it was a pleasure to meet her.  We enjoyed several fun outings with Chris and Madeline while we were in Denver.

Speaking of road closures and detours in life, in the summer of 2018 Jessica's husband of 8 years decided he didn't want to be married anymore.  This had the potential to be a crushingly lonely road for Jessica.  However,  since she couldn't change the way things were, she has changed her attitude beautifully.  She has a good teaching job in Idaho with great co-workers, good friends in Idaho, a nice house in Idaho, and supportive family and friends scattered around the country.  And a cute little dog named Rico.  While it is not the path she planned, the detour will take her many beautiful places she never expected to go, and would not have gone had the road not been unexpectedly closed.

Our journey home to California from Denver put us onto U.S. Route 50, a road Time Magazine described as "The Backbone of America."  We were on the stretch of U.S.Route 50 running through Nevada, which is known as "The Loneliest Road In America."  We stayed on Route 50 all the way to Carson City, Nevada, and then to Lake Tahoe.  And, in places, like some unexpected and unwanted moments of our lives, it is a lonely road; but my goodness, it is beautiful.

https://unusualplaces.org/u-s-route-50-americas-loneliest-road/

https://www.newsweek.com/2015/06/26/route-50-rode-nowhere-343735.html

Immigrant Valley

No Greater Purpose, No Greater Evidence of God

Recently I posted this picture on FaceBook with the assertion that "Our nation's family separation policy was, and continues to be a moral failure."  To be clear, I am referring to the recent immigration enforcement policy of the United States to forcibly separate children from their parents when they illegally cross the Southern border of the U.S.  Several of my friends have pushed back on my assertion, and I feel the need to explain my feelings further.

First, let me briefly discuss my credentials, and what this is not about.  I am a conservative independent.  I voted for Reagan and the Bush boys.  I am not a Snowflake, but I am a Christian.  I did not vote for Trump, but this is not about Trump.  I am not against immigration laws, nor the fair enforcement of immigration laws.  However, I am also not against immigrants, and I support the fair, just and humane treatment of all people, including immigrants -- and even illegal immigrants.

One point of pushback is that the people who are being forcibly separated from their children are "breaking the law."  We are talking here, generally, about people crossing the borders of countries.  We are not talking about, for example, killing another person, stealing large amounts of money at gun point, or some other heinous crime warranting long imprisonment.  This "crime" of which we speak is more like a misdemeanor crime.  Yes, it is "breaking the law" to drive over the speed limit.  Yes, it is "breaking the law" to fish without a fishing license.  Yes, it is "breaking the law" to buy or use certain "banned" things.  And yes, it is "breaking the law" to cross the U.S. border without permission and at a place which is not a designated point of entry.

I grew up in Reedley, California. Reedley is in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley.  I once started to write a book titled "Immigrant Valley" loosely fashioned on my early memories. Growing up in Reedley, I got to know many German/Russian Mennonites, farmers mostly, who crossed many borders of other countries, sometimes legally and sometimes illegally, to flee persecution and seek a better life in the United States.  Most of them were successful, well off, and well regarded.  Their stories of illegally crossing borders, sometimes at peril of death, were regarded mostly as stuff of folklore; their feats and bravery were admired and celebrated.  I knew their children, too -- went to school with them.  They were my friends.  Their families were fine, upstanding Christian families, central to our community.  Nobody I knew ever argued that it would have been morally right or justifiable to forcibly separate those families because they "broke the law" in crossing borders.

My late friend, Nick Friesen, was a 14 year old boy, living with his family in Russia when the Russian Revolution broke out.  His family chose to flee Russian persecution by driving a horse and sled at night over a frozen river on the Southern border of Russia into China.  They faced death by shooting for trying to leave Russia, and entered China illegally.  From China, they applied for and were granted legal entry into the U.S.  At Ellis Island, each adult had to show that they had a certain amount of money to support themselves (I don't remember the amount).  Between all of them, they only had enough money for one person to pass, so one would show the money and then pass it back.  They all got through the Ellis Island check point on one stack of bills.  I admired them for their lawlessness and chutzpah.

I got to know many other "lawbreaking" immigrants while growing up in Reedley.  Most of them were Mexican, and most of them worked on the farms of the "lawbreaking" immigrants from Germany and Russia.  They were my friends, too.  Many of them, and their children, are now also successfully integrated into "our" United States life.  Like the German and Russian farmers, many Mexican immigrants are farmers and their children are professionals in all walks of life.  Most of us fear God, pay our taxes, obey most of the laws we are subjected to, and contribute to our mutual well being.  Most of us try to treat others as we would want to be treated, because, well that is what we believe God has told us to do.

All of this is not to say I don't think we should have immigration laws.  We should, and we do.  And what is the point of having a law if you don't enforce it?  I am not against the fair enforcement of laws, although there are many laws and penalties in the U.S. and California I don't agree with.  What I am against is mistreating people, and in particular, mistreating children, for the sole sake of intimidating them, and others like them, from attempting to cross our borders.

Before the Civil War, it was "illegal" in the United States for certain black "people" -- chattle, really -- just slaves -- to leave their master-owner.  Those who did were whipped, tortured, and killed, to discourage them and to set an example and intimidate others against "breaking the law."  Slave children were separated from their parents and sold.  This conduct on our part, I believe, was cruel and wrong and a moral failure within our great Nation.  One of many.

In the same way, I believe forcibly separating immigrant children from their immigrant parents is cruel and wrong and immoral when it is not a necessary thing for us to do to enforce our immigration laws.  Most people who are apprehended after crossing our borders illegally are deported.  Okay.  Sometimes due to the time it takes for legal processes there is a need to "detain," i.e. imprison them.  Okay.  Heretofore we have had a policy of  detaining families together, and generally when they have been deported, they have been deported together.  

I get it that some of us are angry and upset about illegal immigration, disgusted with Congress for not doing anything, and worried about the future of our Country and our communities. However, our recent policy of family separation at the border is designed solely to punish and intimidate those who would attempt to cross our borders illegally.  In many cases, no thought or concern has been given to if, how, and whether a reunification of the children with their parents could occur.  I can only imagine the anguish of both the parents and the children who have suffered these forced separations.  I simply cannot accept that crossing a border illegally is the kind of "breaking the law" we would use to justify this kind of mistreatment of real people,

Change Is The Normal Order of Things

     In July of 2017 I was privileged to take a week-long cruise up the inside passage to Alaska with almost all of my family.  The thing is, this is a much different family than I had, or than I could have predicted when I took my first Alaska cruise 11 years ago.  And prior to this trip, many of these "new" family members had never even met each other.  In my estimation, though, the trip and the getting-together-for-the-first-time was a grand success, and I am glad for each one who was a part of this epic adventure.  

     Pictured above are two of my grandsons on our balcony intently watching a sea plane taking off. These two live in Pennsylvania, so we don't get to see them all the time.  Each time we do see them, they have changed quite a bit. Most of us understand that, with children, they change so fast you'd better be watching all the time or you will miss something.  We all change, though.  All things do.  It is the normal order of things.  

     Pictured below is Glacier Bay.  It is the crown jewel of any Alaskan cruise.  The calm crystalline waters streaked with glacial silt and brimming with aquatic life, the majestic mountains clad with snow, and in places strewn with trees and brush and flowers and wild life, the skies, both cloudy and gray, blue and bright, and the massive glaciers descending from the heights and slipping into the bay. This was, for thousands of years, the home of the Tlingit people.  The Tlingit people named these glaciers before any white explorers came.  What we now know as the John's Hopkins Glacier was called "Path to the Mountain" by the Tlinglit people.

     My first cruise to Alaska was in July of 2006.  I went on that trip with my amazing wife of 26 years, Susan, and two good friends, Gary and Sue.  I was in my forties then, and young enough and arrogant enough to not be fully cognizant of all the changes my life had already been through.  My life then was on an ascendant path with no downward trajectories in sight, or so I believed.  Susan and I were on the Path to the Mountain.

     But as impressive and seemingly unchangeable as Glacier Bay may be, it is ever-changing, and has changed dramatically in only a short time.  250 years ago Glacier Bay wasn't a bay at all, but an alluvial plain bisected by a river.  Extending down the alluvial plain was what we now call the Grand Pacific Glacier.  The Tlingit lived on the silted plains by the river below the glacier, as they had for generations.  Then, due to massive amounts of snow falling on the mountains above the glaciers, the Grand Pacific Glacier expanded and moved rapidly down the alluvial plain.  Some Tlingit stories describe the glacier advancing "as fast as a running dog."  The glacier overran the homeland of the Tlingit, and carved the alluvial plain into what we now know as Glacier Bay.  Then the glacier retreated, leaving the bay.  The glacier has retreated over 65 miles up the bay since the time it was first explored by John Muir.  

     The Marjorie Glacier, pictured behind Susan and me in the picture above,  and the Grand Pacific Glacier in the background in the upper right of the picture, have both retreated further since I first saw them in 2006.  We can perhaps point to global warming as a contributing factor in the retreat of these glaciers, but changes in nature have been the normal order of things from the beginning of time. We don't always see change coming, though, nor do we always welcome it.  I could not have predicted, in July of 2006, that Susan would get cancer and be gone from this Earth by March of 2010.  Like the Grand Pacific Glacier advancing on the Tlingit, her cancer advanced "as fast as a running dog."

     Princess cruise ships have also changed in the 11 years since I first sailed the inside passage.  Not much, though.  They all are centered around a multi-floor atrium and feature multiple nice venues for food and entertainment and quiet reflection.  They still have formal dinner nights, but the current trend is for dark suits and dinner jackets, whereas 11 years ago it was tuxes and black ties.  I guess that is the result of societal changes more than anything.  The thing about change is, it is part of life, and it is inevitable.  We have to choose how we will respond to change.

      John Muir was a naturalist who celebrated changes in the natural environments he revered.  About experiencing his first earthquake in Yosemite, he wrote:

"At half-past two o'clock of a moonlit morning in March, I was awakened by a tremendous earthquake, and though I had never before enjoyed a storm of this sort, the strange thrilling motion could not be mistaken, and I ran out of my cabin, both glad and frightened, shouting, "A noble earthquake!" ... as if Nature were wrecking her Yosemite temple and getting ready to build a still better one.   .... and all Nature's wildness tells the same story-the shocks and outbursts of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering waves and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of every sort-each and all are the orderly beauty-making love-beats of Nature's heart."

     Of course, the Tlingit people were not celebrating when their home of generations was destroyed. Nor was I celebrating when my wife of 29 years succumbed to cancer.  But, as the Glacier National Park Ranger who boarded our ship said, we cannot focus on what is past.  All we have is the here and now, and we have to focus on what is special in the world as it now exists, and in our relationships as they now exist. 

     So now it is 11 years since I first cruised to Alaska.  I have remarried to a terrific lady named Cheri.  I have gained three more grown children, five more sons-and-daughters in law, and four more grandchildren.  Many things in life are trivial, but the pursuit of life, and the pursuit of happiness, and the celebration of all that is good in the here and now, are not trivial things. Shown below is the core of the mighty trivial pursuit team that twice blew away the competition on the Coral Princess.  This is my new, extended family, and as they will readily tell you, they (and those not pictured) are all winners.

     It is said that the Marjorie Glacier is advancing at the rate of about four to seven feet per day.  I am advancing at about the rate of one day per day.  One thing we have in common with Glaciers is that, the forces that propel us forward are put in place by God and are largely out of our control.  One other common thing about glaciers and people is, you have to meet them and spend time with them to get to know them and to appreciate their unique beauty.

     And I am pleased to report that all my blended family are inclined to appreciate nature, and to learn about nature and about each other.  They all exhibited, as John Muir described, "The earnest, childish wonderment with which this glorious page of Nature's Bible was contemplated. ... All evinced eager desire to learn."

     And I am grateful to God for all this beauty, and for all these special people in my life, and that it all came together in the here and now.

     John Muir put it better than I ever could, when he said, of Alaska, and of his being there with other people special to him:

"Look at that now.  Why, it looks as if these giants of God's great army had just now marched into their stations; every one placed just right, just right! What landscape gardening! What a scheme of things! And to think that [God] should plan to bring us feckless creatures here at the right moment, and then flash such glories at us!  Man, we're not worthy of such honor!  Praise God from whom all blessings flow!"