SCIENCE SURVEY SKEWED ON TRUST QUESTION

The Science and Scientific American Magazines group has produced a rather alarming report on a survey of the public's trust of authority figures.  On a scale of one to five, with five being the most trustworthy, people were asked who would provide accurate information on a range of scientific issues. Surprisingly (maybe not too surprisingly), the results showed that scientists are highly regarded, while religious authorities are deeply distrusted.

Before getting too carried away with the results of the survey, however, it has to be understood that it was taken from readers of Nature and Scientific America.  This type of sampling bias is rather suspect.  It would have been more telling if the general public had been asked for views on the authorities in question, since science fans would certainly tend to rate scientists most highly.  One reviewer suggested that it was rather like posting a poll about the greatest musician of the age on a Justin Bieber fan site.

The evolution debate has been a hot topic for more than a century, however, and it is not all that surprising that "informed" people are comfortable with the views of pro-evolution scientists.  The rest of the report discussed more details of international views on various issues, and mostly they are positive.  Just keep in mind that these data are from a well-educated and science-friendly audience, and probably are not representative of citizens as a whole.

I cannot leave this post without posing the question: Does evolution really contradict creationism?  There are two parts to creationism.  Evolution, specifically common descent, tells us how life came to where it is today, but does not say why.  If the question is whether evolution disproves the basic theme of the biblical Genesis, that God created the world and the life in it, the answer is no.

Evolution cannot say exactly why common descent chose the paths that it did.  If the question is whether evolution contradicts a literal interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis as an exact historical account, then it does.  This is the main, and for the most part only, point of conflict between those who believe in evolution and those who put their faith in creation.

The scientist-slanted survey did a disservice to "religious authorities" in unfairly tarring them with the distrust brush.

IT'S HARD TO BE HUMBLE WHEN I'M THE BEST ME

As I contemplated my navel this morning (actually I was shaving and looking in the bathroom mirror), for some reason or other I wondered how it would feel to know that I was the world's best at something -- anything.  I really do not know who decides such things other than media commentators or, in some cases, the Guinness World Book of Records; but the title "World's Best" must carry with it a hauntingly mixed bag of emotions such as pride, satisfaction, pressure to maintain excellence, inevitability of someone in the wings poised to overtake you and the stress of meeting public expectations.

I have often thought that it would be nice to just once be "the best" at something -- a writer (Ernest Hemingway), an actor (Clark Gable), an athlete (Joe DiMaggio) or a singer (Frank Sinatra).  Oh I know, being the best is not always what it is cracked up to be and that it is lonely being at the top, but wouldn't it be comforting to just for a day look down at those on the bottom?  When you are the world's best, I'm sure that it is hard to be humble but golly, given periodic states of smugness, I'm sure that I would be up to the task.

I think that we all have had times when we fantasized about excelling at something and for many of us, that may be a good thing in that it can serve as motivation to keep striving to be the best that we can be.  Some wise "unkownymous" once said it best:  "Why compare yourself with others?  No one in the entire world can do a better job of being yourself than you."

You can take all the Ernest Hemingways, Clark Gables, Joe DiMaggios and Frank Sinatras in the world, but none of them can be a better Dick Wright.  God gave me a corner on the market.

Now finally, I realize that there is something I can be very good at, maybe even the best in the world.  If there is anyone out there who can be a better me than me, let he/she step forward.  I dare you!

As far as I am concerned, even with all my warts, wrinkles and borderline abilities, I am the supreme me.

Now that I think about it, it feels kind of good up here too, looking down as I do.  One problem though.  I don't see any other me's down there.  Guess that makes me unique -- and it doesn't get any better than that!.

WRITER HEAL THYSELF AS YOU WOULD OTHERS

I am a great one for giving advice through my writing on Wrights Lane.  Sometimes I think that I should concentrate more on giving advice to myself.  But, then again, maybe much of the time I am doing exactly that, albeit indirectly.

I know that opening salvo requires some explanation.

There have been countless times when I have been stressed or down in the dumps for some reason.  Just recently for instance, I have been struggling with a feeling of helplessness as I await a diagnosis on a prolonged, debilitating hip problem that I have been enduring.  Will I require surgery?  Will I be laid up for an extended period of time? In view of Rosanne's disability, who will provide required assistance during recuperation?  After so many years as a care-giver, will the role now be reversed for me?

Most of us, I'm sure, have days when we feel alone and exasperated, overloaded and unappreciated; when the many balls that we keep in the air aren't noticed, let alone rewarded; when dragging ourselves out of bed in the morning requires the determination of Hercules.  It is at times like this when any health problems tend to be magnified.

As I think about it now, sharing with others reminds me that I'm not experiencing life in a vacuum.  That other people have problems.  Other people have feelings.  Other people do not have all the answers either.  It reminds me that I am human and that we are all trying to buoy each other where ever possible.  That we are supporting one another while working through our "stuff".  It reminds me that I do not have to be perfect before I can help others because, instead it is my imperfection that bonds me to others.

I am reminded too that I am not supposed to weather storms all on my own, and sharing how I feel always lessens my emotional load.  Expressing it to someone else who may be undergoing the same thing, makes it seem less weighty.  That is exactly the concept behind "misery enjoys company."  It is my experience that misery is not the only emotion that covets company -- they all do in one way or another.

The force that guides the stars also guides each and every one of us because we are, or will, go through similar experiences.  Being able to share in this way is a beautiful thing.  Only trouble is that many times we choose to keep it bottled up inside.

I am of the opinion that we should be more expressive.  We should not be alone  in our experiences.  We need to understand that we are never alone or helpless -- even when we have hip problems and the future is a bit cloudy.

TAKE CONTROL OF INNER POWERS YOUNG GUYS

I have written about this before, but in my earlier years (between the ages 14 and 24) I was under the naive and mistaken impression that life was pretty much predestined.  I thought that all you had to do was just wait for things to happen and for opportunities to almost magically present themselves.  What did I know?  No one ever told me otherwise.

Quite honestly, I spent the first quarter of my life living in some kind of dream land, not understanding that I was wasting the most important and formative period of my life on fantasies -- a time when I should have been focusing on, and preparing for, the direction in which I wanted to go.  Oh sure, I knew that I wanted a good job and the wherewithal to nurture and to support a wife and family.  There was just one big problem...I had no idea of how to go about it.

Looking back, I don't think that I believed in myself all that much and failed to get serious about what I wanted to do vocationally until it was almost too little too late.  No one ever suggested that from the very beginning I had the ability to take control of my inner powers to direct my subconscious mind.  At no time did it dawn on me that I could eliminate negative thoughts with positive beliefs and that I could tell my inner powers exactly what I wanted.

I am thinking here especially of my two grandsons, one who is just completing high school and another who is several years removed from it and still considering his options.  I want them, and other young men their age, to know what I have learned the hard way -- that inner powers are always working for them, always creating and shaping their lives.  These powers simply respond to instructions and, given the right directions, they will most assuredly get exactly what they want.  It's all about attitude, setting goals and preparing for the future with drive and dedication.

As you think about dreams and what's important in moving toward an ideal lifestyle, you might realize that we all are either moving toward or away from dreams and ambitions.  If we procrastinate, we are putting off dreams; in some cases for a few years or maybe forever.  When we delay dreams, we miss out on life.

The ideal is to live dreams NOW before is is too late.  It is important to take some action each and every day, no matter how big or small, as dreams are pursued.  It is a valuable exercise to see yourself actually achieving your goal and then tracing the steps that you took to attain success.

Here's the bottom line:  If you are not living the life you want, if you have yet to attain the success yearn for, if you are not in the relationship you want, if you are not as healthy as you want to be, then you are not sending the right messages to your subconscious mind and your inner powers.  When you doubt yourself and lose confidence, you are conditioning yourself to struggle.  You get used to it, doubts continue and things progressively get worse.

No one ever attained instant success or received a lucky break without working for it.  Breaks are self-created, make no mistake about it.

Do your research, young fellows (girls too, for that matter).  Study the traits of successful people.  Don't be shy in talking to those who are already in the field(s) or discipline(s) you are considering.  You will be surprised at how much they respect your interest and they will be flattered by the fact that you sought them out for information.  The bonus?...The more you network in this way, the more doors will  open for you down the road.

Don't be like the frog laying on a rock in a stream with its mouth open in the hope that a bug will sooner or later fly into it.  Be the aggressor.  Turn things around by taking charge of your destiny.  Consider well your thoughts, beliefs and attitude so that they are focused on what you want and not on what you don't want.  Leave doubt and insecurity to the losers.

Also, don't be afraid to start out in a menial job as a means toward an end, if that is what it takes -- and it usually is.  It was a rite of passage experienced by your father and your grandfathers before him.  You have to start somewhere and the sooner you begin picking up your own tab the better.  Gain all the education, training and experience you can along the way.  It cannot help but result in dividends in the long run.  Understand that in the business world, cream is recognized as such and always rises to the top.

Shed complacency about your future.  Get busy and stay busy.  Be the best of what you can be as you work toward a desired goal; even extending yourself if and when needed.

By all means, make time for a social life and any hobbies that you might have, but not at the expense of achieving your goals.  It's all about priorities and the focus to stick to them.  We all need healthy balance in our lives and we learn as we grow older to juggle a job, family responsibilities, special interest activities and spiritual needs.  Self-fulfillment  is a must for all of us, as is fun in all things.  That's what we call life as it is meant to be.

Don't be like me in 50 years and say:  "if only I'd known then what I know now..."  I want to save you from all that guys!

In conclusion, I would say good luck, but it has been my experience that you make your own luck too.

ACT NOW TO GIVE LIGHT TO YOUR DARKNESS

I was thinking the other day about dual meanings of words.  In this instance the simple four-letter word "dark" was foremost in my mind.

We use "dark" in reference to a color or shade -- "her dress was a dark brown" or "it is very dark out this morning."  The word  "Dark" can also be used to describe a mood or frame of mind, i.e. depressed, bitter, angry, down in the dumps.  Then again, "dark" takes on a slightly different twist when we do not understand something or we are in doubt about a certain issue; for instance: "I am completely in the dark when it comes to installing electrical wiring."

The later reminds me of my old friend, Humphrey, who was a highly illumined man and one who as a consequence was never in the dark about anything.  "Whenever you are in doubt as to the course you should pursue, after you have turned to every outward means of guidance," he once counselled, "let the inward eye see, let the inward ear hear, and allow this simple, natural, beautiful process to go unimpeded by questions or doubts."

He went on to emphasize that in all dark hours and times of perplexity, we need to follow one simple direction, found, as all needed directions can be found, in "the dear old gospel which so many read but so few interpret."  Without hesitation he quoted the line from the bible: "Enter into thine chamber and shut the door," and suggested that there is no spot on earth and no conceivable situation in which any of us may be placed where we cannot follow that direction without delay.  What he was saying was that it was not necessary to escape literally to a private closet with a key in the door.

To emphasize his point, Old Humph  more than once told the story of a man of intuition who worked at a desk in a bustling, and often noisy, business office.  Entirely undisturbed by the many voices and sounds around him, the man would, in any moment of perplexity, draw the curtains of privacy so completely about him that he would be fully enclosed in his own psychic aura, and thereby as effectively removed from all distractions as though he were alone in some primeval woods.

Taking his difficulty with him into the mystic silence in the form of a direct question to which he expected a certain answer, he would remain utterly passive until the reply came, and never once through many years experience did he find himself disappointed or misled.

Indeed, intuitive perceptions of truth are the daily bread to satisfy our hunger, coming like manna in the desert.  The key, of course, is to act instantly on intuition because the more we delay, the more we invite erroneous impressions and conflicting moral fantasies to complicate matters for us.

Bottom line: Give light to your darkness, dear friends.  Follow Old Humphrey's final words on the subject:  "Listen to and be guided by the voice of your own soul, the voice of your higher self!"

THE NEED FOR SELF-EXPRESSION

From virtually the day we are born we are encouraged to express ourselves.  Because of shyness and a lack of confidence, self-expression did not come easily for me as a youngster.  I am still conscious of my ability (or lack of same) to communicate effectively when what I say is met with blank expression, or what I write drifts off into the nether lands.

Still, for some unknown reason, I am driven to to use the written word to express myself.  Good or bad, reasoned or pointless, editorially solid or a piece of fluff, writing fills a need within me.

Self-expression is about being able to say what you mean or want to say -- what is truly on your mind.  It is about expressing yourself in words, music, painting or any activity that allows inner expression or emotion to come out.

Some people like me find it easier to write something than to verbalize exactly what is being felt.  Others express themselves through creating materially, i.e. painting, building, inventing; still others need an audience to preach to.

Early in my career as a newspaper reporter and then a public relations practitioner, I read a lot and networked a lot, generally repeating bits and pieces of what I read, heard or observed -- sneaking an opinion into my copy here and there that may, or may not, have survived the swipe of an editor's pencil.  Most of the time I was either summarizing or emphasizing rather than creating something original.  Writers-for-hire conform to the style of the publication or corporation that employs them.  This experience, however, helped me in the end to adopt a style of my own and an appreciation for the freedom and satisfaction derived from bonafide self-expression, influenced only by what is on my mind and in my heart.

I am intuitive enough to know that there are people (particularly those who knew me in my formative years) who question my motivation in talking about religious matters on this site or to philosophize on life in general, as I am wont to do on occasion.  "He wasn't the brightest light academically."  "What all of a sudden qualifies him to speak on such matters?"  Behind-my-back snickers and sneers in the past have also not gone unnoticed.  Criticism, likewise, has come with the territory.

I even recall an incident several years ago when I was being congratulated for a church sermon I had delivered as a lay preacher.  "You missed your calling, Dick," the nice lady commented.  "Oh no he didn't!" a long-time friend interjected, "I knew him when...!"  That one continues to smart just a little.  It may have been spoken in jest but the insensitivity of the comment robbed me of a rare opportunity to bask in the compliment of the moment.

My only response to questions and situations of that nature, is to say that human kind's greatest gift is the privilege of speaking our minds, hence the freedom of speech and religion, two of our inalienable rights.  In my advanced stage of life I resist the impulse to hold back.  If I have something to offer, I give it in the hope that what I write somehow strikes a chord and fills a need for someone, somewhere.

For the life of me, I cannot excuse myself for having exercised my creativity through writing, albeit ever so humble.  Every so often it has enabled me to turn something mundane into something magical.  The bonus comes when, unconsciously, I have opened a new window to the world through which fresh air can enter.  That is always my fondest hope.

Creativity through self-expression is a precious force that pervades every aspect of existence and can bring its influence to bear on every part of our world.  It has potential to change everything for the better.

I am not sure how much time I have left to adequately craft into words what is in my heart.  Creative fulfillment is always just beyond my reach.  Time is fleeting.  Bear with me, friends old and new, as I attempt to express myself with the best of intentions and motivation for as long as I am able and when conditions allow.  It's what I do when my heart moves me, regardless of how I may be perceived.  In suppressing the gift of self-expression, I miss a calling!

WHAT'S IN A NAME? A NICKNAME OF COURSE!

I have often wondered about certain names in the English language that have no apparent correlation with standard nicknames assigned to them.  Take my own first name for instance -- Richard.  I was christened Richard and my birth certificate clearly shows "Richard", yet from the word go I was called "Dick".

For others, two first names may be a bit confusing.  I have found, however, that there can be an upside to having both a birth name and one of the many standard associated nicknames.  For me it is a matter of mood.  If I am feeling particularly "uppedy" or professional, I tend to use the more distinguished and formal name Richard.  If, on the other hand, I am feeling...well, feeling just plain common ordinary Dick, I use the name Dick.  Regardless, I always have to think twice when introducing myself or signing my name.  What, or who, do I feel like at the moment is the modus operandi.

As the proverbial fellow once said:  "Call me anything you want, just don't call me late for supper!"

A recent virtual history group discussion about the name of a former mayor of my home town, sparked my curiosity this morning.  A photo (circa 1940) of this particular individual is apparently labelled "Donald" Thomson yet one member of the group has suggested that he may have been known as "Dan".  I suggested that both names have every possibility of being correct, as strange as it may seem.  I know one other Donald who was better known as Dan, several Jacks who were Johns, Williams who were Bills, Eds who were Teds and Margarets who were Peggys, just to list a few.

On the surface this makes absolutely no sense at all, but a little research has cast some light on the subject for me.  Carol Wilkens, a communications professor who dabbles in writing and research, has taken it upon herself to study how certain standard nicknames came about and it is fascinating how far back in history many of them go.  Here is a sample of some of the names she has explored.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*I should clarify at this point that "standard" nicknames are not to be confused with with nicknames arbitrarily applied to individuals on the basis of physical characteristics, family connections, fondness, habits, sports, jobs or vocations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John-Jack

One of the most famous bearers of this name, John F. Kennedy, was known to friends and family as "Jack." But I wonder if he knew how much history that name had? John is a name with history stretching back far into Biblical times. However, during medieval times, the name John was altered slightly in the Germanic tongues to Jankin or Jackin. Out of that, we get the nickname Jack.

Richard-Dick

Just as with the previous name, medieval times brought about Dick as a nickname for Richard. The Normans, descendents of Vikings who resided in northern France, had a unique way of trilling their "r" sounds. When the English attempted to pronounce Richard as the Normans did, it was reported that they could not quite do it correctly and the "r" came off sounding like a "d". Thus Dick became a pet name for Richard.

Henry-Hank

Just as with John, Hank was derived from Hankin, a form of Jankin. Originally Hank was a nickname for John but over time it became closely associated with Henry.

Henry-Harry

Harry was the Medieval English form of the Germanic name, Heimiric or Henry.

James-Jim, Jimmy

The medieval pet form of James was Jim. Many of the names in medieval Europe were altered like this because of the conflicts in languages. In England for a time, there were contradictory Romance languages of the Norman French and the harsher, guttural languages of the Germanic tribes: the Danes, the Saxons, and the Celts. When one couldn't pronounce the name exactly, a new name was born. But the original name never went away completely. This is also how you get Molly as a nickname for Mary.

Margaret-Megan, Meg, Peggy

Margaret was derived from a Romance language (Latin) so it did not translate easily into Welsh (a Germanic-derived language.) Megan was the form the Welsh used and Meg/Peg/Peggy were nicknames for Megan. Today, most use Megan as a formal name but some do use it as a nickname for Margaret.

Sarah-Sadie, Sally

Sadie most likely came about as a nickname for Sarah based on the medieval English attempt to pronounce the Norman trilled "r". (See Richard-Dick) The "r" came off as a "d" sound in English. Sally probably came about due to similar circumstances. Some Germanic languages may have attempted the trilled "r" and it came off as an "l" sound.

Edward-Ted, Teddy

Again, Edward was derived from the Norman French and English/Germanic speakers interpreted it as Ted or Teddy.

Susannah-Sukie

Susannah is also a Romance language name and Sukie was the closest pronunciation the Germanic tribes could associate.

The list is extensive and most can be traced back to the conflict in the Romance languages versus the Germanic tongues. So if you are curious about a name and nickname pairing, check to see what language they are derived from. And most likely, you will have found your answer.

I LOVE IT!

WHAT KIND OF "GIVER" ARE YOU?

Presbyterian churches across Canada held special services this Sunday highlighting ongoing support for people around the world affected by poverty, emergencies and injustice.  In the post that follows, I take liberties by extracting portions from a text that was prepared for delivery from local pulpits on "Presbyterian World Service & Development Sunday".  I feel that the message effectively puts the gift of "love" today into proper perspective.   


“Love” is a very popular word in our society and people spend much of their lives in search of it. But as we all know, this often goes unfulfilled, is often misunderstood and is more than often misused. The latest search on Amazon.com reveals some interesting results: when you type in the word “money”, it lists over 90,000 book titles, “sex” has nearly 90,000, “heaven” has over 27,000, “God” has over 170,000, and for “love” there are over 240,000 book titles listed.

If you Google the word “love” you will get over 4.2 billion hits with some websites called, ilovedogs.com, ilovecheese.com and ilovelucy.com. If you’re looking for a partner there is trueromancedatingservice.com, lovetest.com and matchmaker.com. There’s even a website called, thelovecalculator.com, which claims to give you the odds of your relationship lasting!

The common element in these sites is that love is seen as something that arises exclusively out of human desire and belonging, solely within the realm of human gratification. It is created by humanity for humanity. This seems to be the way that many people see it.

One man wrote to the popular columnist with a problem: “Dear Abby, I am in love and I am having an affair with two different women other than my wife. I love my wife but I love these other women too. Please tell me what to do, but don’t give me any of that morality stuff.” He signed it, Too much love for only one. Abby’s reply was classic. She wrote:  “Dear Too much love for only one. The only difference between humans and animals is morality. Please write to a veterinarian.”

The Scriptures reveal to us a love that is more than something entangled with mere feelings and emotions. They proclaim a love that is real, genuine and beyond superficial human fancies. We are invited to embrace this love...

Several years ago a psychologist named three types of Christmas gift-givers and the characteristics of each. One is the Duty-Gift Giver. This person feels an obligation to buy a gift; it really doesn’t matter what it is, and not a lot of thought goes into it. Anything will do.

The second is the Traditional Gift Giver. This person always chooses something appropriate, like a book for the coffee table. It’s always an acceptable choice but maybe not a really personal gift. It’s nice, sends the right message and it never goes over budget.

The third type of giver is called the Passionate Giver. This person enthusiastically looks for just the right gift for the right person. The giver knows the right colour, the right size, and doesn’t mind going over budget if need be. The gift fits the need or desire of the recipient regardless of budget. The giver is simply happy to give it. Such a gift, naturally, is deeply appreciated by the recipient and elicits the most genuine and heartfelt thanks.

...At the very heart of who we are as Christians, this Passionate Giver concept of love is what defines us...Love is the foundation of the fruit of the Spirit: joy is love that sings; peace is love that rests; patience is love that endures; kindness is love’s touch; goodness is love’s character; faithfulness is love’s habit; self-control is love holding the reins. It is this love that has the power to transform us and change lives one by one.

The trouble sometimes with receiving something wonderful is that we can easily take it for granted and eventually come to expect only good things. This is the “entitlement mindset” that has permeated both our society and the our churches today. We have been blessed to live in a land of plenty, and as a result we have become complacent. Many times we are completely unwilling to give thanks to anyone for anything.

The Gospel message tells us that love’s power is in the fact that it was expressed to the world in a concrete way and that it was given with utmost passion. It isn’t connected with the whims of our emotions or gratifications. When our lives are characterized by the awareness of this gift and profound gratitude this gift causes, then we become committed to living out that same passionate love in our world as  agents of change for The One who first gives passionately to us.

Presbyterian World Service & Development unites partners overseas and congregations here at home to address the root causes of poverty and make positive changes in our global village.  The relief agency works to restore human dignity, ease the pain of want, promote self-help and encourage community co-operation.  Financial contributions from local churches help make this world-wide ministerial mission possible. 

"OLD EDDIE" NEVER FORGOT

1st Lieutenant Eddie Rickenbacker was one of the most effective American pilots in World War I. The former race car driver shot down 26 enemy planes during the war. He posed for this photograph beside his plane in 1918 near Rembercart, France.

After serious consideration, and for the record, I feel that clarification is needed for the Capt. Eddie Rickenbacker story related by my father Ken Wright some 63 years ago and reproduced in an earlier post, "Bread of Life...".

Rickenbacker's plane was not "downed" in the Pacific Ocean during World War 1.  The incident, in fact, actually took place a number of years later, in 1942, while the former WW1 flying "ace" and Medal of Honor recipient was on a special Pacific tour assigned to him as a volunteer for the U. S. government.  His findings ultimately went to the U.S. War Secretary and subsequently Gen. Douglas MacArthur, commander of the Pacific Rim during World War 2.  The four-engine B-17 bomber in which he was a passenger, went off course and ran out of fuel causing it to crash into the ocean where the crew and Rickenbacker were afloat for an agonizing 24 days before being miraculously rescued.

After his military service, Rickenbacker went on to be a race car driver, an aviation consultant of note and a respected Eastern Air Lines executive.


By means of follow up and elaboration, my dad's reference to the plane crash and the unexpected role played by a seagull in Rickenbacker's ocean rescue, was reinforced by popular minister and inspirational author Max Lucado in his book titled "In they Eye of the Storm," published six years ago.  Here is an extremely interesting and touching excerpt from the book.


OLD EDDIE

"It happens every Friday evening, almost without fail, when the sun resembles a giant orange and is starting to dip into the blue ocean.  Old Ed comes strolling along the beach to his favorite pier.  Clutched in his bony hand is a bucket of shrimp.


"Ed walks out to the end of the pier, where it seems he almost has the world to himself.  The glow of the sun is a golden bronze now.  Every body's gone, except for a few joggers on he beach.  Standing out on the end of the pier, Ed is alone with his thoughts...and his bucket of shrimp.  In a few short minutes the bucket is empty.  But Ed doesn't leave.  He stands there lost in thought, as though transported to another time and place.  Invariably, one of the gulls land s on his sea-bleached, weather-beaten hat -- an old military hat he's been wearing for years.


"When he finally turns around and begins to walk back toward the beach, a few of the birds hop along the pier with him until he gets to the stairs, and then they, too, fly away.  Old Ed quietly makes his way down to the end of the beach and on home.


"If you were sitting there on the pier with your fishing line in the water, Ed might seem like a funny old duck, as my dad used to say; or a guy that is a sandwich shy of a picnic, as my kids used to say.  To onlookers, he's just another old codger, lost in his own weird world, feeding the seagulls with a bucket of shrimp.  Most would probably write Old Ed off, down there in Florida.


"That's too bad.  They'd do well to know him better,  His full name was Eddie Rickenbacker  He was a famous hero back in World War 1.  On one of his (volunteer) flying missions (1942) he and the plane's seven-member crew went down.  Miraculously, all of the men survived, crawled out of their plane, and climbed into a raft.  Captain Rickenbacker and the crew floated for days on the rough waters of the Pacific.  They fought the sun.  They fought sharks.  Most of all they fought hunger.


"By the eighth day their rations ran out.  No food.  No water.  They were hundreds of miles from land and no one knew where they were.  They needed a miracle.  That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for that miracle.  Then they tried to nap.  Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose.  All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft


"Suddenly, Eddie felt something land on the top of his cap.  It was a seagull. 


"Old Ed would later describe how he sat perfectly still, planning his next move.  With a flash of his hand and a squawk from the gull, he managed to grab it and wring its neck.  He tore the feathers off, and he and his starving crew made a meal of it -- a very slight meal for eight men.  Then they used the intestines for bait.  With it, they caught fish, which gave them food and more bait -- and the cycle continued.  With that simple survival technique, they were able to endure the rigors of the ocean until they were found and rescued.

"Eddie Rickenbacker lived many years beyond that ordeal, but he never forgot the sacrifice of that lifesaving seagull.  And he never stopped saying 'thank you.'  That's why almost every Friday night he would walk out to the end of the pier with a bucket of shrimp, and feed the seagulls with a heart full of gratitude...

Museum display of Old Eddie's belongings
collected after his ocean rescue.  Note the
military cap that served as a landing pad
for a seagull.

"This is another case of the power of prayer, especially when all involved in a situation pray en mass.  Whether it's the power of prayer of a few thousand aboard a carrier or eight men in life rafts.  God will hear those prayers and answer accordingly.  He lifted the fog that day and He put the seagull on Eddie's head.

"Never underestimate the power of prayer!"

My dad would have enjoyed George Konig's book and his reference to the seagull story.  I am sure, also, that he would applaud my follow up to his "Bread of Life" column in the Chatham Daily News 63 years ago (see below).

The message lives on!

Edward Vernon Rickenbacker died in 1973, thirty years after his miraculous ocean rescue.

  

BREAD OF LIFE FOR THOSE WHO HUNGER

U. S. Capt. Eddie Rickenbacker, World War One flying ace.

I periodically review some of my father's literary work.  He was not highly educated from an academic standpoint but I never cease to be amazed by the breadth of his knowledge and the depth of his faith.  He did not have the luxury of a typewriter in those days, of course, and every word was written by hand with pen and ink while sitting at a family heirloom secretary in the living room of our home in Dresden.

A. Kenneth Wright

I was especially taken the other day by one of his columns published exactly 63 years ago by the Chatham Daily News.  In this particular "Voice of the People" piece entitled "Bread of Life" he referred to the biblical account of children of Israel and a gathering of thousands being fed from five loaves of bread and two small fishes and thusly emphasized  how God looks after His people.

What impressed me most was that he incorporated a Capt. Eddie Rickenbacker story to illustrate his point.  Here's how he related it.

"Many will recall the experience of American flier ace Capt. Eddie Rickenbacker and his associates who crash landed from their assault plane in the mid-Pacific, October, 1941.  All they were able to salvage from the wreckage was two life rafts.

"After days afloat in the ocean with no food or water, they became desperate.  They decided to try prayer and it was then that a sea gull landed on Capt. Rickenbacker's shoulder.  The bird was caught and cleaned.  The crew ate the gull and used the intestines for bait to catch fish which they also ate.  Then rain began to fall and they were able to collect the fresh water in receptacles and rags.

"In time Rickenbacker and his crew were rescued and to a man they gave full credit to God for answering their desperate prayers while hopelessly afloat in the Pacific.

"To have that sense of spiritual well-being that all mankind hungers and thirsts for, one must embrace Christianity in a serious, personal way.  Food for the body to sustain life does not suffice.  To satiate the instinctive human longing for spiritual well-being, one must turn to Jesus who proclaimed to the children of Israel and the gathering crowd: 'I am the bread of life.'

"It is of vital importance how we as a people, conduct ourselves and how we as a nation carefully choose our course to insure that we are on God's side.  No one needs to tell Canadians what is right and what is wrong.  We go into the year 1949 well read and with our eyes wide open.  It is up to us to decide if we are for or against the word of God and the teaching of Jesus Christ."

Two years later Ken Wright, who often signed off on his newspaper submissions with the pen name "Columnite", passed away at 52 years of age.  I was only 14 at the time.  He left me a legacy -- "From each and all we glean much that helps a little as we go about our daily duties."  I often wonder how seriously the writings of father and son have been taken over the years.  Somehow it doesn't really matter.

Heredity can be a mysterious thing, but we take it along with us on whatever path we choose in the journey of life.  The pride and faith of parent and offspring is mutual in the partaking of the bread of life -- and the written word.

RISE AND FALL OF LORD'S DAY LEGISLATION

As an illustration of the Victorian Sunday, consider the following illustration, "Toronto: Sunday preaching in the park," published in 1879. "Canadian Illustrated News, Vol. 19, No. 21, Page 329. Reproduced from Library and Archives Canada's website Images in the News: Canadian Illustrated News."

In feeding a very curious nature, I spent considerable time this week looking into the history of municipal elections in Ontario. (I know, I should get a life.)  Quite by accident I stumbled across the following notation from City of Toronto archives.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"City parks had to be closed on Sundays until August 1938, when they were opened providing that competitive games were forbidden (except, for some reason, tennis) and "no apparatus shall be used," which meant that swing sets and other playground equipment were chained and locked. Movie theatres were allowed to open on Sundays as of May 23, 1961. Beverage rooms were allowed to open on Sundays starting in 1962." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That note would seem extreme to any young person reading it today, but for those who grew up in the period, it was definitely a fact of life.  I was immediately taken back to a time in my youth (1930s and '40s) when, in my family, The Lord's Day was strictly observed.  I well remember my mother relaxing rules of the Sabbath to allow me to play baseball on Sundays and how half guilty I felt in doing so.  If we happened to lose a game on Sunday, which was rarely the case, I accepted it as God's way of levelling punishment on me because I was the pitcher in the game.


To this day, I try to avoid doing work of any kind on Sunday and admit to a degree of annoyance when I hear the rattle of neighbours' lawn mowers or the sounds of hammers and saws coming across back yard fences.  I still feel somewhat uncomfortable shopping on Sundays.  In many ways, I am very much a product of my upbringing, I guess.


When Canada was acquired by Great Britain in 1763, English laws prohibiting work and entertainment on Sunday came into effect in the new colony. In 1845 the province of Canada passed its own law forbidding anyone in Upper Canada "to do or exercise any worldly labour, business or work of one's ordinary calling", except for certain works of necessity or charity. At Confederation, when the British North American Act created our two-tier legislative constitution (federal and provincial), Sunday closing laws came (or seemed to come) under provincial jurisdiction.

A quiet Sunday was the social custom in Protestant Canada (Roman Catholics were mellower about it). If water had to be drawn or potatoes peeled for Sunday dinner, many made sure to do it on Saturday evening. Laundry was not hung out to dry on Sundays. "Even the irreligious usually went to church on Sunday; the religious went more than once" (Grant, The Church in the Canadian Era, p. 10), and "a great many Canadians spent the rest of the sabbath reading religious books or periodicals."


 In 1903, in hearing an appeal of a decision about the Sunday operations of the Hamilton Street Railway, the Privy Council in England struck down all Canadian provincial Sunday closing laws, on the grounds that these constituted criminal legislation, which by the BNA belonged exclusively to the federal government. In response, a campaign, joined not only by Protestant churches but also by Roman Catholic hierarchy and the labour movement, was organized to persuade the federal government to enact Lord's Day legislation. It was considered a huge victory against powerful commercial interests when the federal Lord's Day Act was passed in 1906. It prohibited sport, entertainment, and almost all commerce on Sundays, although it permitted provincial governments to make exceptions.

Sentiment began turning against Lord's Day legislation in the 1960s. In that decade Parliament passed amendments to the Lord's Day Act to permit cultural and recreational activities, agricultural and trade shows, scientific exhibitions, and horse racing. In 1985 the Supreme Court of Canada voided the Lord's Day Act as an infringement of the freedom of religion section of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms of 1982. The following year, however, it upheld the provincial Retail Business Hours Act of the Province of Ontario on the grounds that this had a purely secular intention. However, in 1992 the Ontario government repealed the section of this act dealing with Sundays, and most other provinces have also done the same with similar laws.

Our Sunday-go-to-meetin' forefathers must be turning over in their graves.

LET NEGATIVITY GO, SEEK POSITIVE DIRECTION

I have been experiencing a lot of negativity lately.  I think we all go through periods like that.  You know -- distrust, disappointment, misunderstanding,  misconception, disagreement, irritation, frustration, inadequacy, disenchantment, helplessness, aloneness.  It is a long list but it can be any one of the forgoing, or in any combination thereof.

Rosanne's comment the other day (reported two posts ago) to the effect that she was "tired of being a good person" and was going to become "a rotten person like everyone else", has been a factor for me in a rationalization of all of this.

Strangely, interaction with other people (or lack of same) is more often than not at the root of much of the negativity we experience.  I think that it is fair to say that we (and others), are not always as kind as we/they should be.  Even those with open minds and generous hearts can sometimes act selfishly and thoughtlessly or put up barriers that prevent deserved mutual progress. Things and people are not always as we would have them be, like little pieces fitting conveniently into the jigsaw puzzle of our lives.

When there is negativity in our world, it is imperative that we understand that it is not the end of the world as we perceive it.  Neither should we assume that we must have done something wrong to provoke it, nor should we blame someone else for how they have acted toward us in a given situation.

Sometimes we take things too seriously and it serves as a road block in moving forward in a positive way.  But look for positive direction we must. It may not be exactly where we expect to find it but it most certainly exists, somewhere out there.

Periods of negativity should not be interpreted as signs of permanent disadvantage.  When we literally dispense with them, let them go, everything seems so much brighter and lighter.

I LIKE POPE'S "SLOW DOWN" MESSAGE

I was particularly interested in an Associated Press story this morning out of Vatican City, indicating that Pope Benedict XVI is asking everyone to quiet down, even going so far sometimes as to tune out social media chatter.

In his annual communications message released Tuesday, Benedict extolled the sounds of silence.  He said a little bit of quiet makes people better listeners and better communicators by giving them time to think about what they are hearing and saying.  In a world inundated by tweets and 24-hour news coverage, that precious time to reflect gives words greater value, he added.

"Joy, anxiety and suffering can all be communicated in silence; indeed, it provides them with a particularly powerful mode of expression," he explained in a written message.

The Pope has in recent years used his annual communications message to comment on social media.  He urged priests to blog and Catholics who spread the faith on Facebook and other social networks, to be respectful of others.

This year, he turned his attention to the need to occasionally tune out information overload from social media to allow time for greater reflection.  He called for striking a balance between silence, words, images and sounds.

The 84-year-old Benedict is obviously in tune with the times and sensitive to the downside of addictive electronic communications.  This is one Protestant who will be following his advice.  I plan to slow down considerably and will definitely extend my previously-announced inspiration-fishing expedition.  This may come as a relief to certain Facebook and virtual history friends.

Rosanne, sobbing uncontrollably over a situation where her faith in humanity was sadly tarnished:  "I'm tired of being a good person.  I trust people and try to live by the rules, and what does it get me...Nothing!  It's just not fair!  From now on, I'm going to be a rotten person like everyone else."

I had to agree, there was a degree of truth in what she was saying.  Things are not always as they seem when initially presented to us.  We are often the victims of perception.

I pray that "the good" in Rosanne eventually prevails.  There are not enough good people in this world today!

FOR INSPIRATION...!

Will return when I catch some

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME ALONG THE WAY?: A GOOD QUESTION FOR WHICH I HAD NO ANSWER

Shakespeare wrote both comedies and tragedies.  There were funny moments even in his saddest stories and vice versa.  But, then, the best humour is black humour.  If we can laugh about what makes us cry, we are half way to healing even the harshest reality.

Have you ever had someone ask you a pointed question for which you did not have a reasoned answer?  Well, it happened to me last night.

We were watching American Idol on TV and I commented on one father who had displayed enthusiastic support and confidence in his contestant son, a very talented singer.  I happened to remark that my father had that kind of faith in me too before he passed away when I was only 14 years of age.  "No one ever believed that much in me I again," I half lamented.

"You had so much potential, Dick.  With your abilities, you should have been a millionaire," responded a very biased Rosanne who then added:  "Where did it all go wrong?"

Her out-of-the-blue, frank but honest comment resonated in my mind.  I was stunned into silence.  Try as I may, I could not come up with a rational answer.  Some 12 hours later, I still do not have an answer.  Wish I did!

I'm not sure if I want to laugh or cry over the irony.

Just a little something special...

THANKS MICHAEL!

ME AND MY SHADOW(S)

Something that I read this morning got me thinking about "being followed".  Some of the things that follow us in life are ultimately avoidable while others -- well, they just keep following us where ever we go.

For instance, I have a four-legged 15-pound "follower" at my heels at all times.  No matter where I go, my miniature rat terrier Lucy is right there behind me.  Many times I do not realize that she is there until I stop quickly for some reason, or take an unexpected step backwards.  I really do not know what I have done to deserve such a faithful pursuer but it is a special, almost indescribable and unconditional gift in life that only a dog lover can appreciate.

A fact of life, however, that is common to all of us is the shadow that is our constant companion.  We can make our shadow vanish by immersing ourselves in total light or total darkness.  We all have an option to make our lives so gloomy that all shadows merge into one great shadow.  But that is hardly a solution, nor advisable.  Neither is it wise to position ourselves where light can reach our lives from one direction only...That will cast even stronger shadows!

I often think that we should be a little more conscious of the kind of shadow that we are casting.  I doesn't help that we often dwell too much on dark or dismal aspects of life at the expense of all that is bright and positive.

Walk on the bright side my friends.  Let your shadow be the best possible reflection of yourself.

SUBSTANTIATING A NEED TO EAT SOMETHING

Rosanne (with pangs of hunger etched on her face):  "Please Dick, I need some substanense!"

Me:  "Would you settle for some sustenance?"

Rosanne:  "Okay...!"

RACIAL DISCRIMINATION: NOVA SCOTIA APOLOGIZES 64 YEARS AFTER THE FACT

Still not too late for my hometown


History is filled with tales of injustice. It is only on rare occasions -with the clarity of hindsight and benefit of careful thought and measured reason - that a society comes together to undo the wrongs of the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sixty-four years after the fact, Viola Desmond was last year offered an apology by the government of Nova Scotia for racial discrimination she was subjected to by the province's justice system.  The report of the belated apology was forwarded to me last week by a Facebook friend who no doubt anticipated my interest.

By means of background, this is Viola's story.

On November 8, 1946, she was driving through New Glasgow, N.S. when her car broke down.  While repairs were being made Viola decided to catch a movie at a nearby theatre.  She bought her ticket and went to sit in the ground level of the theatre, unaware of a policy allowing African-Canadians to sit only in the balcony.  She was told to move and refused as there was no notice of the segregation policy posted in the theatre.

The theatre manager called a policeman and together they physically carried the woman from the theatre, injuring her leg and hip in the process.  She was taken to the local jail and held overnight.  The next day she was brought before a court and charged with tax evasion, of all things.

The "crime" she committed was sitting in the main section of the theatre while paying for a balcony ticket which was cheaper.  The retail tax was calculated based on the ticket price so the authorities decided she owed one cent in tax for the pricier entrance fee.  She was found guilty, fined $20.00 and forced to pay the theatre's six dollars in legal fees.  Viola paid the fine but challenged the decision in the Supreme Court of Nova Scotia.

She had not been told her rights when arrested, nor informed that she could hire a lawyer or question witnesses during her trial.  Despite these and other errors of law, the Supreme Court upheld the conviction.  The publicity surrounding the case and pressure subsequently applied by the fledgling Nova Scotia Association for the Advancement of Coloured People and others, led to the province repealing its segregation laws, but not until 1954.

In delivering the province's apology, Premier Darrell Dexter called Ms. Desmond a visionary, pioneer and Canadian hero.  "On behalf of the Nova Scotia government, I sincerely apologize to Viola Desmond's family and to all African-Nova Scotians for the racial discrimination she was subjected to in November 1946..." he added.  She was also given a royal pardon.

However, all this was too late for the victim.  Not long after the incident she closed her Halifax beauty parlour and moved to New York where she died in 1965 at the age of 50.

Upon reading this sad story, I was immediately reminded of my attempt to generate interest in an apology for African-Canadians who suffered well- documented discrimination in my hometown of Dresden during the first half of the last century.  Reaction to my suggestion in the form of several Letters to the Editor published in the Chatham Daily News was minimal and mixed. Generally, I think, I was considered an excrement disturber who had his nerve in opening old wounds needlessly.  There was an overriding consensus that, if racial discrimination existed all those years ago, it was no longer an issue in the community today.

My contention was that each generation should assume at least partial responsibility for the mistakes of the former and that apology can go a long way toward healing festering ills and deep resentments.  My remarks were directed in particular, to the current regional council of Chatham-Kent which encompasses Dresden.  I still think that I was right in what I attempted to do.

It has been pointed out that one quite striking feature of the politics of the last half-century has been the escalation of demands for redress, issued by groups who see themselves as the victims of historic acts of injustice.  Present-day governments and their citizens are being asked to bear responsibility for the actions and policies of earlier generations, and to take a variety of steps to correct the harm and injustice that they perpetrated.   Not all such demands have been successful, but many have been, and the costs incurred have in some cases been considerable.  The claims in question have been very diverse, both in terms of who is making them and in terms of the acts singled out as standing in need of redress.

So let's return to the question whether the idea of inheriting responsibilities makes sense at all.  Why do we find ourselves pulled in opposite directions on this question, sometimes wanting to affirm and at other times to deny that we can be held responsible for what our ancestors did?  We can understand this, I believe, in terms of a conflict between liberal and communitarian intuitions.

On the liberal side, we are drawn to the idea that we are only implicated in responsibility when as agents we have made some causal contribution to the outcome for which we are being held liable, and behind that stands the idea that we want to be in control of what happens to us: if we are held responsible for what other people, past or present, have done, then in one important respect we lose control of our lives.

On the communitarian side, we find ourselves identifying with other people or other groups of people, and feeling vicarious pride or shame in what they do.   With pride and shame comes responsibility..  Alasdair MacIntyre has expressed this well:

"…we all approach our own circumstances as bearers of a particular social identity. I am someone’s son or daughter, someone else’s cousin or uncle; I am a citizen of this or that city, a member of this or that guild or profession; I belong to this clan, that tribe, this nation.  Hence what is good for me has to be the good for one who inhabits these roles.  As such, I inherit from the past of my family, my city, my tribe, my nation, a variety of debts, inheritances, rightful expectations and obligations."

In other words, the communitarian intuition that supports the idea of inherited responsibility runs straight up against the liberal intuition that we can and should choose the relationships from which responsibilities spring, and this intuition is as firmly embedded as the other.

To justify taking responsibility for the past, we need to do more than simply point out that de facto people do often feel pride and shame in what their ancestors have done, and are sometimes willing to bear the resulting ramifications.  We need to find arguments that will support the communitarian intuition, or at least its consequences, to the detriment of the liberal one.

In Dresden's case, I am not so naive as to expect to influence the thinking of those who are too young to remember racial discrimination in their midst.  I had hoped, however, that those in my age bracket who witnessed racial injustices first-hand in the 1930s and '40s, talked about it over the supper table, and felt the helplessness of adolescence in doing anything about it, would now act on hindsight and find it in their hearts to join hands with others of like mind and say to their friends of colour: "I am so sorry for what you and your family had to go through in our time.  On behalf of our generation, and generations past, I apologize."

Unlike the Province of Nova Scotia apologizing for one ugly act of racial discrimination and segregation 64 years ago, we are talking about blanket discrimination for hundreds of blacks in the Town of Dresden for more than a century.  I rest my case.

SHINING NEW LIGHT ON IMPERFECTIONS

I received an interesting and revealing note from Wabi Sabi Love advocate Arielle Ford.  I have written before about Arielle and the ancient Japanese art form that honors all things old, worn and imperfect.  Here's some of what she had to say.

Hi Richard:


After Brian and I got married I discovered that "manifesting a soul mate" was the easy part.  The hard part was just beginning.


I was totally clueless about creating a great relationship.  After 44 years of being single, I was used to having my own way (all of the time) and since I managed to skip over having a starter marriage, I had zero experience in "partnership".

Arielle and Brian, the faces
of Wabi Sabi Love

One day I found myself being particularly pushy.  I witnessed myself pointing my right index finger in Brian's face (left hand on left hip) ragging him out about something...and I was shocked!  OMG, what was I doing?


I quickly apologized and then in a flash of insight said to him:  "The next time I get like this, and unfortunately there will be a next time, you have my permission to ask me 'when did Sheila enter the room'?"   (Sheila is my brilliant, amazing and sometimes overbearing Mom.)


Brian instantly got it and said to me:  "And the next time I am getting too patronizing, you can call me Wayne (his much loved Dad)."  This was the beginning of our dedication to practicing Wabi Sabi Love in our relationship -- a way to offset problems and to allow in more love.  It's like finding beauty and perfection in the imperfections of life.  For instance, if you had a large vase with a big crack down the middle of it, a Japanese art museum would put it on a pedestal and shine a spotlight on the crack...


To more love and light in your relationship(s).


-- Arielle

The point of Arielle's message is well taken:  We would all benefit from seeing not only our partners but other situations in life as well, in a whole new light that enables us to appreciate, even celebrate, imperfections.  Patronization has never been conducive to passion, harmony nor love.

I'm sure that I will be hearing more from Arielle on the subject of the Wabi Sabi Love that has changed her life -- and that of Brian.

HAVE HEART: THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NOW

Here it is the 5th of January and already New Years Day 2012 is but a memory relegated to the past, if not totally forgotten -- if you are a soul like me.  Maybe it's a symptom of old age like when you've seen several dozen of them, you've seen them all.

The year 2011 was not necessarily a good one for me but, as with all others, it was like an old friend and I was sorry to see it go.  I tend to be comfortable with the status quo and that could be a bad thing every much as it is good.

Five days ago we stood on one side of the calendar and stepped bravely into a brand New Year.  As the fireworks flew, the champagne corks popped (hot chocolate in my house) and the band struck up Auld Lang Syne, we all inwardly muttered to ourselves words to the effect of, "That was then, this is now."

And you know what?  Realistically, that has always been true.  Once a year at least, we more or less find ourselves in a position where we can hope for the best.  If we carry current life's problems into the next 12 months, we know from experience that eventually they will slip into the mist of history and that we have potential for change and improvement, if only we apply ourselves.

If there is merit in resolve, then by all means act upon it.  But do me a favor, dear hearts, stay the course.  Stay the course!

WAR SHIP BEACHED IN SOUTHAMPTON

The War of 1812 was fought between the United States and Great Britain from June 1812 to the spring of 1814.  The main land fighting occurred along the Canadian Great Lakes border with a number of the more notable naval battles taking place on Lake Erie.  From our Canadian history studies at school, we remember the names Sir Isaac Brock, Laura Secord, Charles de Salaberry and the great Shawnie Indian Chief Techumseh who was killed fighting for the British in the Battle of the Thames.

On January 1st, the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812 began officially but, at the Bruce County Museum  & Cultural Centre, work for a well-planned celebration of the historical period has been underway for some time.  Here's part of an amazing and exciting story, particularly for those of us living on the shores of Lake Huron in Southampton.

The H.M.S. General Hunter by artist Peter Rindlisbacher

The General Hunter, a former British war ship from the War of 1812, was discovered by accident some 10 years ago on Southampton's beach and was subsequently painstakingly excavated by some of the best archaeologists in the world who all volunteered for the project.

"It was one of the biggest finds on the Great Lakes," said marine archaeologist and project coordinator Ken Cassavoy.  The ship, which was excavated revealing a wealth of artifacts from three military entities - American, British and a Newfoundland regiment, was also re-buried twice in order to preserve her and, today, she lies once again beneath the sand.   The Hunter was captured in the famous Battle of Lake Erie by the American Admiral, Oliver Hazard Perry.

A replica however, is about to be built by a group of talented local enthusiasts in the Bruce County Museum, complete with one of the masts and three of the 10 cannon found in the beach excavation.

The mammoth 32 1/2 ft. mast weighing 1000 lbs (pictured to the left) was recently raised in the museum by a corps of volunteers from the Marine Heritage Society and the Propeller Club, under the the direction of Mike Sterling who used the principles of Archimedes, the ancient Greek mathematician, physicist, engineer, astronomer and inventor of mechanical devices such as the block and tackle that was used to lift the mast into place.

Beginning in the new year, construction on the deck of the General Hunter replica will begin with every detail meticulously worked out by ship recording and sailing expert Stan McLellan.

"This is a massive undertaking," says Cassavoy, "but we are very fortunate to have living in this area some of the greatest minds when it comes to detail, historical fact, and the ability to bring it all together to make it happen.  There are going to be celebrations all along both sides of the Great Lakes in 2012.  It's going to be exciting and, especially, here in Southampton with our direct tie to the War of 1812."

Mike Sterling, project co-ordinator Ken
 Cassavoy and Stan McLellan discuss the
precise details of erecting the ship's mast. 

The ship was discovered in April, 2001 when low lake water levels and a spring ice scour uncovered about a dozen of the ship’s frame tips, pushing up through the sand of the beach.

After a series of archaeological excavations of the wreck and years of historical research the find was  identified as the British naval brig General Hunter.  It was built in 1806, and served as a Provincial Marine transport ship on the Upper Lakes.  During the War of 1812 it took part in a number of successful actions as part of the British Navy squadron based at Amherstburg (Fort Malden), Ontario.  The General Hunter was ultimately captured by the Americans in the famous “Battle of Lake Erie” in 1813.  Following the war, in 1815, with its name shortened to Hunter, the ship was sold to a private buyer in the United States.  It was later purchased by the U.S. Army as a transport vessel and made several voyages during the spring and summer of 1816 carrying U.S. army material and men to various Upper Lakes ports.

According to a letter written by U.S. Army General Alexander Macomb to the U.S. Secretary of War, a major Lake Huron storm pushed the Hunter ashore and wrecked it on a remote Canadian beach on August 19, 1816.  Details in the letter and an attached legal declaration by the crew, found in the U.S. Archives in Washington, clearly identified the wreck location as that of the present-day Southampton beach.  All eight crew members and the two young passengers survived, managing to crawl down the broken mainmast and on to the beach as the ship was battered by wind and waves.  The crew rowed and sailed the small ship’s boat down the lake to Detroit, arriving a week after the ship was wrecked on the beach.

The Hunter as it was uncovered by archaeologists.

The General Hunter lay buried under the beach sand for nearly two centuries before its timbers were discovered pushing up through the sand.  The ship was fully excavated and all artifacts were removed.  Some of those artifacts, including a unique swivel cannon found on the wreck, can be seen in an exhibit at the Museum & Cultural Centre in Southampton.  The rest of the artifacts are undergoing conservation treatment at the Canadian Conservation Institute in Ottawa.  In some cases it will take several years to complete conservation but all artifacts ultimately will become part of the shipwreck exhibit at the museum.

In the spring of 2006 a dramatically altered beach profile and the continuing low lake levels, once again exposed a large number of ship timbers and put them at risk of serious damage.  The temporary breakwater was installed immediately and tons of sand was put in place, to keep this important shipwreck and the historic work barge that is buried beside it ,safe from the ravages of Lake Huron wind and waves.

A major study in 2005 set out a plan for next possible steps in the Shipwreck Project.  Consideration of this plan began in early 2007.  Those interested can see the plan “Southampton Beach Shipwreck Project: Recovery, Conservation and Display Preliminary Study,” at the Bruce County Libraries in Southampton and Port Elgin or at the Bruce County Museum & Cultural Centre in Southampton.  All the details of the shipwreck discovery, excavation and identification are also available at the same locations.

I find all of this extremely fascinating and will definitely photograph the replica ship for Wrights Lane when the museum project is completed later this year.

Saturday, December 31, 2011:  The Saturday Star this morning carried a front page headline:  "My father taught us that it's never too late to change for the better."  I could not help but think that the coincidental statement by a woman reflecting on the life of her late father, would have been a fitting lead for this untitled post on the subject of resolutions written by me several days ago.

Maybe it's still not too late!

One of the strangest things about the holiday season, is the way that it mixes the old with the new.  First we have the traditional celebration full of ritual, habit, convention and faith.  Then we get the great New Year celebration which is supposed to be followed by revelations and resolutions.

Ideally, from the start of January, everything must be new and different.  It is no wonder that we have difficultly with some of it.  Where do we start?  How do we start?

On the 30th of December we are now peeping nervously over the wall that divides us from our future.  We know what changes we would like to see but if you are like me there is always a question.  Can this be possible?  Is it realistic to think about change at this late stage of life?

The answer, of course, is that anything is possible at any time.  It is never too late to entertain change and to make a firm resolve.  The secret is to want something bad enough that you keep your resolutions for as long as necessary.  Be strong and patient, my friends!