Southern Sojourn

Going down to Springfield!

I went to Springfield today, visiting the city of my birth for only the second time this year. I've been so tied down to a strict drug rehab schedule that I simply haven't been able to put together enough free hours in a row to make it worth visiting the city! Today I took the bus there, with the usual holdover at Veteran's Park in Holyoke. There I unexpectedly ran into Amber, a friend of mine from rehab.

The patients in rehab were divided into three groups. The largest consisted of street folk from the so called urban culture. Drugs are as much a part of their lives as sunshine or air. The second group were people that can't be described as being in any category, they're so blown out on drugs they've lost any real sense of their own identity and have just turned weird. The third group was people like Amber and me, Grateful Dead sort of stoners. We were the smallest group but we stuck together, flower children among burnouts and gangstas, and Amber was a great help to me at times, listening to me and consoling me when I was confused and unhappy and going through withdrawal. She ended up getting thrown out of rehab for fighting with a nurse. I never knew what became of her, and it was great to see her today looking healthy and happy. I took her picture....

Then she took mine:

As you might imagine, being in Springfield for only the second time this year I had a lot of errands to attend to. However, I did take the time to stop in for a few minutes at the Springfield Control Board meeting this morning. City Hall is always a trip!

I climbed the antique spiral staircase to the mahogany chambers where the Control Board meetings are held.

There Board Chairman Chris Gabrielli was presiding over a dull economic development discussion.

 



The two local officials on the board are Mayor Dom Sarno and City Councilor Bud Williams.

 




Later I was by the new federal courthouse, which is almost completed. Notice the two ancient trees in front. The whole building was designed to accommodate those trees, believed to be among the oldest in the city. 

At the beginning of construction in 2003 I took this picture of local historian Greg Metzadakis posing by one of the old trees on the otherwise cleared lot. 

Here is the exact same tree as it appeared this morning. 

One thing I haven't been able to do since my Dad died in December is to go and visit his grave in Saint Michael's cemetery in ol' Pine Point. Saint Rose is the name of the cemetery lane he is buried on. 

I was surprised to realize that he was just recently buried!

I had forgotten that here in New England, where the ground in winter is ice-hard, they often wait until spring to bury those, like my Dad, who died in the dead of winter. I also saw that the year of death has not been put next to my father's name. He had his birth year and name put on the stone about ten years ago, leaving the year of his departure to be filled in. 

I had to leave the cemetery earlier than I wanted to because a terrible thunderstorm came up. It rained the whole bus ride back, but when I got to UMass the rain stopped and the sun came shining through, creating a beautiful rainbow. 

A rainbow reminds us of God's promise that after something bad must come something good. 

Dad News

What happened.


Me and my Dad on his last birthday in August 2007.

My Dad's obituary did not appear in today's paper, but I'm assuming it will tomorrow. The wake will be on Tuesday and the funeral Wednesday morning, but I can't be more specific than that right now.

Although my father, who was 77, has been in decline for most of the year, his death struck us as somewhat unexpected. He had a major operation for lung cancer earlier in the week, but he appeared to be making an amazingly good recovery. Then suddenly he had a stroke and that was that. So I guess you could say his amazing recovery came to an abrupt end!

Thanks so much to everyone who has called or emailed me and my family, I really appreciate it. I know some of you have expressed concern that the stress of a major death in the family might cause me to relapse, but don't worry, that ain't gonna happen! I know nothing could make matters worse than for me to get high.

I will say that it is hard for me to wrap my head around the reality that both of my parents are now dead. Gee, does that make me an orphan? I guess in the natural order of things we are all orphans in the end. I think part of what makes losing a child so hard on people is that it's unnatural - the parents should go before the kids. For me that natural transition is complete. Indeed my parents entire generation is quickly disappearing.

After them, it will be my generation's turn. Now there's something that's hard to wrap your head around!

My relationship with my father in his last year alive was complicated by my discovery that I had an older, full-blooded brother whose existence had been kept a secret from me. Confronting my father about this deeply buried family secret was very difficult and caused tremendous stress for him and for my entire family. However, in the end it was well worth it as my lost brother is now fully integrated into our family. One disappointment however is that my lost brother never got to be in the physical presence of his father, although they did communicate by phone, so at least there is that comfort.

Anyway, I'll have more detailed information on what's going on tomorrow.

In the meantime, as predicted another terrible storm blew through our Valley last night. I laughed to see this snow covered bike in Amherst today. Did the bicyclist forget and leave it leaning against the tree, or was it abandoned in despair?

 



In Northampton this morning Channel 40 was broadcasting live from downtown. 

Look at the big truck they have to lug around just to broadcast locally. Meanwhile, I can film something and put it on YouTube where everyone on the planet with a computer can see it by using only a camera that fits in my pocket. Is it any wonder that the lumbering dinosaurs of the media mainstream are dying?

I was certainly happy not to be meteorologist Eric Fisher this morning, broadcasting in an arctic blast! Notice the blue ribbon around the tree to the left of Fisher. Those are popping up on trees throughout the Valley as a sign of sympathy for the victims of the brutal triple murder in Springfield the other day. 

When I'm tempted to feel sorry for how my Dad's death is casting a shadow over my Christmas this year, I remind myself of what that family is going through.